#so in light of recent events....... here they are

[appeypie]

Used to love this manga as a kid….

[helioooss]

fable

synopsis: minji and y/n are both from a conservative town - and end up falling for each other. days are spent sneaking around…longing for someplace they can be themselves.

w/c: 5k+

warning: homophobia, death, mostly internalised, swearing, drinking, kissing, having to hide who you really love sucks. just angst

a/n: okay, this is important. as per recent events, and the sole reason why i’m publishing this now: i will not be continuing this story as it just feels like a fever dream to write about women loving other women - specifically (and surprisingly) in a country like america, where this is set. as of right now, there will be no part two.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

rhodes was a quiet country town, one where the land stretched out wide and the houses were all spaced apart, each standing tall with big porches and rocking chairs that creaked with the passing winds.

folks around here lived simply; big families, old traditions, and everyone knowing each other’s business, even when you’d rather they didn’t. the only real landmarks were the towering silos, murphy’s diner and the stretch of farmland that seemed endless.

most of your afternoons were spent in your pa’s garage, under the hood of a truck or fixing up your old dirt bike. you had an affinity for engines, grease-streaked hands and the rhythm of mechanical work that required no words, just understanding. keeping to yourself mostly, you were content with the company of horses, the comfort of solitude and the occasional bonfire with your old man.

it was just him and you, after all.

then there was minji. she was as close to royalty as you’d get around here. your family lived in a modest house with a big porch that overlooked acres of field. across from you was her family estate — a sprawling place with manicured gardens, stables, and a wrap-around porch that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. their cars were sleek and pristine (except for the old bastard her dad loved driving around), it was the kind of place people would point out as if it were a tourist attraction.

more than that, she had a charm that seemed to light up every room she walked into.

since you could remember, the two of you always walked to school together even though you didn’t really know her. it was a quiet, unspoken arrangement that had developed over the years, when parents told you to look out for each other.

conversations were rare; she was usually scrolling through her phone or listening to music through one earbud while you kept your gaze on the gravel road, hands in your pockets. you never questioned it and she never acknowledged it, but somehow, every morning, she’d be waiting at the end of her driveway and the two of you would fall into step.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first time you really looked at minji was a fall morning in junior year and she was standing under the maple tree at the end of her driveway — her hair catching the early light, eyes focused on some distant point beyond the fields.

she looked so serene, so out of place in the rough simplicity of rhodes and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was something special; someone you wanted to know, even if you never could.

but people like her weren’t meant for people like you — so you kept your head down and fell into step beside her as usual.

and you were okay with that.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

until one day, she surprised you by initiating a conversation as you walked down the familiar road to school.

“you know, you’re kinda mysterious,” she said, her voice teasing but curious. “you don’t ever talk, even at school.”

you looked at her, caught off guard. “me? i think i’m just quiet.”

she laughed, a sound that made something in your chest tighten. “no, it’s more than that. you’re like…really the silent type.”

you shrugged, not really knowing what to say. words weren’t your strong suit; you were more at ease with tools and machines than with people.

however, there was something about her that made you want to try.

over the next few weeks, you found yourself talking to her more. she would start conversations; it was mostly small things — questions about school, comments about the weather, a shared laugh at the antics of the local town characters.

however, each word, each moment felt significant, like you were building something fragile and precious between you.

“so, what’s your favourite song right now?” she asked, a big grin plastered on her face as she kicked pebbles ahead of you.

you thought about your answer, humming. “my pa’s always singing bruce springteen, so probably one of his songs.”

she clapped in excitement, turning to you. “so does mine, which song?”

“y’know, i’m on fire — a classic,” you rubbed your nape, feeling small under her gaze. “but when we’re at murphy’s, he plays rocket man on the juke.”

“but what do you like? imagine we were at the diner right now, what would you sing?”

“well, right now, i’ve been humming to i remember everything; zach bryan.”

she nodded, satisfied. “good choice - i’ll listen to that tonight and think of you.”

and then one morning, you found her waiting by the fence at the end of her driveway, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger as she stared out over the misty fields.

you greeted her with a nod, falling into step beside her. “you look bored.”

“i always am,” she heaved out a sigh. “there’s nothing to do ‘round here.”

for a while, you walked in silence, the gravel crunching under your boots as she hummed a new tune. it was quite obvious that there was a lot going on in her mind, so you let her be.

“do you ever get tired of rhodes?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

you glanced over at her, surprised. “what do you mean?”

she shrugged, looking down at the road as she walked. “it just feels like…i don’t know. like i’m supposed to be somewhere else. somewhere bigger.”

you considered her words, feeling the pull of her restless energy. “you mean the city?”

“maybe,” she murmured. “somewhere with more people, more things to do. sometimes i feel like i don’t fit here, you know?”

you nodded, though your own feelings were mixed. it was predictable yet comforting in its own way. yet you could understand her need for more, her desire to break free of the small-town expectations that kept people in their places. “what would you do?”

“law, music; anything to get out of here,” she said without hesitation, her eyes lighting up. “it’s silly.”

“it’s not silly,” you replied softly, surprised by the passion in her voice. “it’s brave.”

she laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. “i don’t feel very brave. i mean, look at me. all i do is cheer and go to parties and pretend i’m happy with all of this.”

you didn’t know what to say. she had always seemed so confident, so sure of her place in the world. seeing her like this, vulnerable and unsure, made you feel closer to her in a way you hadn’t expected.

“well,” you said finally, keeping your voice light, “if you ever want a ride out of this place, i’ll let you borrow one of my pa’s a hundred trucks someday.”

she glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “you’d really let me borrow those precious trucks?”

“maybe,” you said, pretending to think it over. “as long as you promise the old boy not to crash it.”

she laughed, the sound filling the air around you, and for a moment, the tension melted away, replaced by something easy and warm.

yet deep down you knew, she was going to leave one day.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was a chilly afternoon at school and you were leaning against the wall outside your classroom just waiting for the bell to ring.

you’ve got your hands in your pockets, watching the last leaves fall from the trees outside. the day has been long, filled with the usual classes and quiet looks exchanged with minji as she passed you in the halls. she always offered a small, secret smile — a reminder of the connection the two of you were quietly building.

you were lost in your thoughts amongst the crowd when a shadow loomed over you.

taehyung, one of the football players, all swagger and confidence as he stands a little too close, sizing you up like you’re beneath him. you’d fixed his car a few times before; his dad’s an old friend of your uncle’s and he would stop by the garage a handful of times, always with that same arrogant smirk.

“hey y/n,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest. “i need you to look at my car again. it’s making this weird noise, and i don’t have time to deal with it.”

you raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his tone. “when’s it making the noise?”

he shrugged, as if your question was pointless. “i don’t know. all the time, i guess. you’re the one who’s supposed to know about these things, right?”

prick.

you bit back a retort, reminding yourself that this is just how he talked. besides, fixing cars wasn’t just a job to you; it was something you enjoyed. “bring it by the garage after school. i’ll take a look.”

he didn’t say thank you, didn’t even acknowledge your offer to help. instead, he scoffed, looking at you like you were a servant he summoned. “good. i’ll swing by later. and don’t keep me waiting, alright? i got football early.”

before you could respond, another voice cut in. it was minji; and she didn’t look too impressed.

“excuse me,” she said, her tone icy and uncharacteristically sharp. she was standing just a few feet away, glaring at him with a look you’ve never seen on her before. “is that how you talk to people who are helping you?”

he turned to her, surprised, then chuckled, clearly amused. “oh hey, minji. didn’t see you there.”

“obviously,” she snapped, taking a step closer. “because if you had, you might have remembered that it’s rude to treat people like they owe you something.”

he seemed taken aback, clearly not used to being called out, especially not by someone like her. “what’s the big deal? it’s just y/n. she’s used to this kinda stuff.”

“just y/n?” she repeated, her voice growing colder. “y/n’s doing you a favour. the least you could do is show a little respect.”

you stood there, stunned, not used to seeing minji like this; fierce and protective. part of you wanted to pull her back, tell her it was all good, but the other part is quietly grateful for the way she was standing up for you.

he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “whatever, minji. i don’t get why you’re so worked up over this.”

“because it’s common decency, taehyung,” she said firmly. “and maybe you should try it sometime.”

the tension hung heavy in the air, a standoff between the most powerful kids in town as a few students nearby glanced over, was a rare event to watch.

“fine,” he muttered, barely meeting your gaze. “thanks for, uh, looking at the car — i guess.”

it was a half-hearted apology, but you took it, nodding slightly. “no problem.”

with one last glare at her, taehyung stalked off, muttering under his breath. as soon as he was out of earshot, she turned to you, her expression softening, worry flickering in her eyes.

“sorry if i overstepped,” she said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “it just…he shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

you sent her a small smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”

she shrugged, but there was a softness to her gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “maybe not. but i wanted to. you’re too nice sometimes, you know?”

you laughed, glancing down, feeling a little shy under her stare. “guess i just don’t see the point in getting worked up over guys like him.”

“well, maybe you should,” she said, her tone teasing. “or you could just let me get worked up for you.”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled, trying to ignore the way her words made you feel.

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you in a way that felt natural. then minji looked around, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“wanna skip the rest of the day?”

you raised an eyebrow. “skip school? miss ‘perfect attendance’ minji wants to cut class?”

she laughed, her smile wide and free. “just this once. come on, let’s go into into town.”

you hesitated, glancing back at the school, but the look in her eyes was too tempting to resist. with a grin, you nodded, gesturing towards the main door. “alright, then. let’s stop by murphy’s.”

skipping class wasn’t something either of you did often, but today felt different — a small rebellion that felt like it belonged to you and her alone.

the two of you walked in comfortable silence down main street, minji bumping her shoulder playfully against yours every so often. the breeze danced the leaves around, the occasional folks passing by and giving you questionable looks - you didn’t say much, but the unspoken ease said more than words could.

after a few blocks, you found yourselves standing outside murphy’s diner, the familiar chipping paint and neon sign buzzing quietly in the afternoon light.

you held open the door, nodding for her to go in first. “after you, punk.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she stepped inside. “i should be saying that to you, you’re the bad influence here.”

“i think it’s mutual at this point,” you replied with a grin, following her into the diner.

the place was nearly empty, save for a couple of regulars at the counter and murphy himself, looking half-asleep behind the cash register. he perked up slightly when he saw you both, adjusting his stained apron and giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“hey kids,” murphy called out, not quite smiling but his eyes crinkling in what could pass as friendly. “what brings you in here on a school day?”

“just felt like a change of scenery,” minji answered, sliding into a booth by the window. she glanced at you, a mischievous spark in her eyes. “thought we’d come sample your famous pie.”

he snorted, crossing his arms. “famous, huh? that what they’re calling it now?”

“sure is,” you said, grinning as you took a seat across from her. “heard you’ve got some new ‘experimental’ flavours going on. i might be feeling brave today.”

“i’d rethink that if i were you, your pa’s guts couldn’t even handle it,” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “but i’ll get you both a slice of the apple. can’t go wrong with the classic.”

as he shuffled off to the kitchen, minji leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hands. “you come here a lot, huh?”

you nodded, looking around the diner with a sense of quiet fondness. “yeah. it’s kinda like…i don’t know. a second home, almost. it’s pa’s favourite place in the world — him and murph go way back.”

she smiled, her gaze softening. “i can see that. i used to come here with my mum when i was little. she’d always get me one of those gigantic milkshakes, and then i’d feel sick for hours afterward.”

“so nothing’s changed,” you teased, and she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“not true. now i can handle my milkshakes without the regret,” she looked around, taking in the retro red booths, the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner and the small posters lining the walls. “it’s got that old charm to it, you know? like it’s been here forever.”

“probably has,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t listening in. “murphy’s just as much a part of this place as the food is.”

she laughed, shaking her head. “and his infamous temper. last time i was in here, i saw him argue with some poor guy over how much sugar he was putting in his coffee.”

“sounds about right,” you said, chuckling. “you know, i think he’s convinced he’s running some kind of fine dining establishment.”

“let him dream,” she replied with a grin. “it makes this place more interesting.”

murphy came back a moment later, setting down two plates in front of you, each with a thick slice of pie that steamed slightly, the golden crust flaking off at the edges.

“your pa know you cut classes now, y/n?” he sent you a funny look, one that made you gulp. “you in luck, i keep secrets to m’self these days.”

“thanks murph,” you smiled as minji tried to suppress her laughter.

he poured you each a cup of coffee without asking, grumbling under his breath about “kids these days�� before disappearing back behind the counter.

she picked up her fork, cutting into the pie and taking a tentative bite. her eyes widened, and she made a small noise of approval. “okay, i’ll admit, this is actually pretty good.”

you took a bite as well, nodding in agreement. “he’s a little eccentric but the man knows how to make a pie.”

she glanced over at murphy, who was pretending not to watch you both from the corner of his eye. “maybe we should give him some credit.”

“don’t let him hear you say that,” you warned, keeping your voice low. “next thing you know, he’ll be charging ‘gourmet’ prices.”

she laughed, covering her mouth, and for a moment, everything felt easy and light, like the two of you were just regular kids, free from the weight of expectations or small-town gossip.

you watched her laugh, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners, and felt an overwhelming sense of warmth in your chest.

“so, what else do you do around here?” she asked, leaning back in the booth and sipping her coffee, eyes fixed on you with genuine interest. “besides fixing trucks.”

“not much, honestly,” you admitted, shrugging. “sometimes i’ll go out riding horses. there’s this trail out by the woods that’s perfect for it.”

“do you actually?”

“yeah,” you replied, a little surprised by her excitement. “my family’s got a few. i’ve been riding since i was a kid, how have you not seen our horses?”

“i guess i never noticed,” she said, sounding almost awestruck. “i always wanted to learn, but mum was convinced i’d end up falling off and breaking something.”

you chuckled, picturing a young minji, her eyes bright with excitement. “it’s not that dangerous, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

“well, i wouldn’t know what i’m doing, so there’s that,” she replied, laughing. “maybe someday you could…teach me?”

the question caught you off guard, but you nodded, trying to keep your voice casual. “yeah, sure. we could go sometime. i’d love to show you.”

a comfortable silence settled between you as you both finished your pie, stealing glances out the window at the quiet town beyond. it was strange, this sense of peace you felt around her, like you could share anything and it would feel normal.

after a while, she sighed, setting down her fork and looking at you thoughtfully. “thanks for bringing me here. i feel like i’m seeing this town in a new way, you know?”

“happy to share it with you,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “you make it feel different too.

minji’s cheeks flushed a little, but she didn’t look away. instead, she just smiled as you both let the quiet settle in again, savouring the feeling of being together.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one weekend, like you had promised, you led minji toward the stables; showing her around the fields and introducing her to the horses. she was practically bouncing with excitement, taking everything in with curious eyes.

she’d been asking about the horses ever since you’d told her about them back at murphy’s, and today, she’d finally convinced you to let her come by to meet them.

“they’re even bigger up close,” she said, her voice filled with awe as she reached out, hesitating just a moment before brushing her fingers over the soft nose of your favourite horse, duke.

you grinned, patting duke on the neck. “he’s a gentle giant, aren’t you, buddy?”

duke gave a soft snort, leaning into your touch and her face lit up with a smile that made something warm bloom in your chest.

“can i feed him?” she asked, glancing at you for approval.

“sure,” you replied, grabbing a couple of carrots from the feed bucket nearby. “just keep your hand flat and he’ll be careful.”

she took the carrot, holding it out with her hand as you instructed and giggled as duke’s soft muzzle tickled her palm. “oh my god, he’s so sweet!”

“yeah, he’s a good boy,” you said, watching her with a fond smile.

seeing her here, surrounded by the horses and the familiar quiet of the stables, felt strangely right, as if she’d always belonged.

as she moved on to pet one of the other horses, you heard footsteps coming up behind you. turning, you saw your dad strolling into the stables, wiping his greasy hands on an old rag.

he raised an eyebrow when he spotted minji, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“well, well, didn’t expect to see you bringing company out here, y/n,” he said, his gaze flicking from you to her with a look of pleasant surprise.

she turned, a bit flustered but quickly recovering with that bright smile of hers. “hi mr. l/n,” she greeted him, polite and cheerful as ever.

“minji,” he began, chuckling softly as he extended a hand, which she shook firmly. “heard a lot about you from your da. never thought i’d see you out here in the stables with y/n.”

“guess i just wanted to see the horses,” she responded, throwing a quick, slightly embarrassed glance at you. “she’s been telling me all about them.”

“did you now?” he gave you a knowing look, one that made you want to roll your eyes, but you held back. he’d always had that look in his eye whenever he saw you with friends, but this was different, he seemed more…amused.

“she’s never seen them ‘round, pa,” you laughed. “can you believe that?”

“well, make yourself at home,” he told her with a wink. “and darling, while you’re at it, i need you to run down to mrs. kim’s pet store later and pick up the order i put in. she’ll know what it is.”

“sure thing,” you replied, used to the occasional errand for him. “anything else?”

“and since you’ll be out, why don’t you stop by murphy’s and bring me one of those experimental pie slices too? been hearing a lot about his latest concoction.”

minji laughed, catching the joke. “are you sure you want to try it, mr. l/n? murphy’s experimental flavours can be…questionable.”

your dad chuckled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “that’s exactly why i want it. figure life’s more fun with a little culinary risk, right?”

“you sound like murphy,” you said, shaking your head. “can i take the ‘88?”

“yeah, well, maybe he’s onto something,” your dad replied with a grin, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “alright, you two have fun with the horses. don’t let her talk your ear off about their ‘good temperament,’ minji.”

you huffed. “you didn’t answer my question!”

“yeah, yeah, whatever - s’long as you keep minji impressed over here.”

you rolled your eyes as he walked away, a smirk on his face as he disappeared out the stable door, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“your dad seems nice,” she said, her voice soft, watching him go.

“he is,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “he’s the one who taught me everything about taking care of these guys. treats them like family.”

“i can tell,” she said, her stare lingering on you with a look that made you feel both shy and a little flustered. “him and my dad drink in our garage sometimes.”

“talking about cars and engines, i bet.”

“when do they not?”

after a while, you finished up at the stables, promising minji that you’d let her come back to ride sometime soon. together, you walked down main street, heading toward mrs. kim’s pet store for your dad’s order.

when you pushed open the door to the shop, the familiar musty scent of birdseed and old carpet washed over you.

mrs. kim looked up from the counter, her ever-present scowl deepening when she saw you and minji step inside.

“what do you two want?” she barked, her voice sharp as ever. her parrot, archie, squawked in response, as if echoing her sentiment.

“just picking up an order for my pa,” you replied, unfazed by her grumpiness. “he said you’d have it ready?”

she grumbled something under her breath, shuffling off to the back room. archie, watching you intently, tilted his head and squawked again, “no freeloaders!”

mrs. kim had been running the pet store for as long as you could remember; she was infamous for her suspicion of teenagers and her tendency to talk to her parrot, archie, as if he were her business partner.

“archie’s in a good mood, i see,” minji whispered, fighting back a laugh.

“archie’s always in a ‘good’ mood,” you replied with a smirk. “he and mrs. kim are like two peas in a pod.”

“i heard that,” mrs. kim snapped from the back room, making both of you jump.

you shot minji a look, both of you trying not to laugh. a moment later, she returned with a small bag and set it on the counter, eyeing you suspiciously. “make sure your dad pays on time this time, y/n.”

“he always does — got the wrong person again, mrs. kim,” you replied, handing her a few bills as she huffed, muttering about “young folks” under her breath.

as you turned to leave, minji leaned over the counter, giving mrs. kim a bright smile. “thank you, mrs. kim! we’ll be back soon for more of archie’s wisdom.”

her scowl softened just a fraction, and she gave her a begrudging nod. “well, you better keep your hands off the merchandise if you do.”

“of course,” minji replied, her voice light, before giving archie a little wave. “bye, archie!”

archie bobbed his head, squawking one last time, “no freeloaders!”

the two of you finally left the store, stepping back onto the sunny sidewalk, both of you dissolving into laughter as soon as you were out of mrs. kim’s radar.

“i swear, she’s the grumpiest person i’ve ever met,” she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “but i kind of love her.”

“i know,” you said, shaking your head. “town wouldn’t be the same without her, though. she keeps us all on our toes.”

“yeah,” she agreed, a soft smile on her face. “it’s kind of funny…i always talk about wanting to leave, but when i think about leaving people like mrs. kim or murphy behind, it actually makes me a little sad.”

you looked at her, surprised by the vulnerable admission. “you’ve been around them your whole life. it’d be weird not to have them around.”

“i know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “as much as i want to get out, sometimes i think about what i’d be leaving behind. like…like little pieces of myself are tied to this place.”

“maybe that’s what makes it home,” you said softly. “all these weird, wonderful people who make this place what it is.”

she looked at you, her expression thoughtful, and nodded. “yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“archie’s a character, too,” you added, switching back to a lighter conversation. “he’s probably the one keeping her in business.”

“definitely. everyone goes there just to see him, not her.”

“well, at least your dad knows how to keep life interesting,” she mumbled as the two of you strolled back toward murphy’s diner. “between ordering experimental pie and dealing with mrs. kim’s antics, i’d say he’s living his best life.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth in your chest at the thought of your pa and the quirky charm of your small town. “yeah. he’s got it all figured out, i think.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sun was just starting to set as you sat on the porch with your dad, the last light casting a warm glow over the fields. he rocked slowly in his chair, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked over at you.

“so…you and minji been spending a lot of time together, huh?” he asked, in that familiar teasing tone of his.

you rolled your eyes, trying to act unbothered. “we’re just hanging out. she’s nice, that’s all.”

“just nice?” he raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “funny, ‘cause from what i hear, you’ve been giving her the grand tour of rhodes and introducing her to all the horses and such. don’t usually do that with just anyone.”

heat crept up your neck. “it’s not like that,” you muttered, glancing away. “besides, nothing’s ever gonna happen. you know how this town is — everyone goes to church on sundays and thinks people like me are going to hell.”

he was quiet for a moment, letting your words settle between you.

you felt the weight of them, the ache that came with knowing this town had walls, even if they were invisible.

“and anyway,” you continued, barely above a whisper, “minji’s straight. she’s probably just being nice ‘cause she feels sorry for me or something.”

your dad shook his head, his eyes soft and understanding. “kid, that’s nonsense. i don’t think she’s the type to spend time with someone just ‘cause she feels sorry for ‘em. from what i can see, that girl genuinely likes being around you — her da says that too.”

“even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.” you sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in your voice. “this town…it’s not like people here would ever accept it. i mean, they’re all so set in their ways, and they’ve known each other forever. they’d never understand.”

he sent a thoughtful nod. “you’re right that people here got their ways. but you know…folks talk, but they don’t talk bad. they care about family, about helping each other out. they got their beliefs, sure, but i don’t think they’d turn their backs on you; you’re family.”

you looked down, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve. his words gave you a flicker of hope, though you weren’t quite sure if you believed him.

“and besides,” he added, a sly smile breaking through, “this isn’t about the town, is it? it’s about how you feel.”

“i know, but it doesn’t matter now. or ever. she’s too pretty, anyway.”

he leaned in, dropping his voice like he was sharing a secret. “so…you think she’s pretty, hey?”

you felt your face burn as you tried to stammer out a response, but before you could say anything, the sound of footsteps interrupted. you looked up, startled, and there she was — minji, standing just a few feet away with a shy smile, her eyes flicking between you and him.

“uh hey,” she said, clearly sensing she’d walked in on something. “i didn’t mean to interrupt, just thought i’d watch y/n work in the garage.”

it was nearly impossible to find your voice, too flustered to do anything but offer a small wave. your dad chuckled, his gaze bouncing from you to minji, and back again.

“well, speak of the devil,” he began, his voice full of that familiar warmth. “sweetheart, we were just talking about you.”

shooting him a look, you plead him to be quiet but the teasing glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t done yet.

she raised an eyebrow. “all good things?”

“y/n here was just saying how nice you are,” he continued, completely unfazed by your glare. “always good to see good folks spending time together.”

she smiled, her eyes catching yours for a brief second; something unreadable flickering in her gaze. “well, y/n, you’re pretty great company yourself.”

your pa just grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and gave you a little pat on the shoulder before he stood up. “i’ll leave you two to it, then.”

and with that, he strolled inside, whistling a tune, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to figure out what to say to the girl who had suddenly made everything feel so complicated.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day minji returned to rhodes, the sky was heavy with the kind of grey clouds that seemed to hold a familiar quiet.

four years had slipped by since she’d left, the city pulling her away like a magnet, offering her a life she thought she wanted – or at least, a life she thought would make her forget. now, sitting in her da’s ‘72 chevy as he drove her back from the station, she felt the strange sense of both everything and nothing changing.

the truck rattled as they drove down the winding road that led into town, its worn seats and rusty interior a stark contrast to the sleek offices she was used to. it was only when she glanced down that she noticed the shiny new bolts in the dashboard, the hint of fresh paint.

“dad, did you fix the truck?” she asked, running her fingers along the smooth edge, noticing the little changes.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i wish, y/n fixed it up. finally had the time to look under the hood,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice as he tapped the steering wheel. “opened up her own shop a year back. doing well, from what i see — helping me look after old girl here.”

she felt a twinge in her chest, an old, familiar ache she’d buried beneath years of work and distance. you. the girl who loved her in the quietest, fiercest way — the one she left behind. it was hard to picture you now, four years later, still here in the town that had once felt too small, too suffocating for her.

“she opened her own garage?” she repeated, trying to keep her voice casual, though her heart was pounding. the last she’d heard, you had been working odd jobs, fixing up trucks for people on the side, but she’d never imagined you actually staying, putting down roots here.

it didn’t quite make sense to her — you were keen on leaving, at some point.

“she did,” he nodded, his voice warm with the admiration he held for you. “that girl’s got talent and folks around here know it. opened the place up some years after her pa passed…not too long after you left, actually.”

the words hit her like a slap, sudden and jarring. “her dad…passed away?” she asked, barely able to get the words out. she felt a pang of guilt settle heavy in her stomach, a sick, sinking feeling that twisted through her. “what?”

he nodded, his expression softened with a sadness she hadn’t noticed before. “it was sudden. heart attack, coroner said. she was…well, she was left to handle things on her own. the town tried to help, but she didn’t really let anyone in. shut herself off, y’know?”

she stared at the passing landscape, her heart heavy with guilt and regret, memories surfacing of all the times she’d spent in their yard, watching you and your dad tinker with the trucks.

“sweetheart, tell your da to let that old girl rest,” he often joked, referring to the chevy. “and tell him to give it to me.”

he’d always had a way of making her feel like she belonged there, even though she was just a girl who’d wandered over too many times — looking for an excuse to be near you.

she could still remember his warm laugh as he handed her a sandwich, the smell of grilled cheese filling the air, sometimes even murphy’s pies, you rolling your eyes but smiling anyway as he fussed over them, asking if you’d had enough to eat, if you wanted something else.

she’d spent countless afternoons like that, sitting on the tailgate of an old truck, the three of you laughing and talking like a makeshift family.

and there were the stables, where your dad and her own had shown them the basics of horseback riding, teaching her how to hold the reins, how to stay calm. she could still hear his voice, patient and steady, guiding her through each step, his pride evident every time she got something right.

those moments had felt like a small slice of paradise, a simplicity and warmth that she hadn’t appreciated enough at the time.

now, the weight of her absence settled over her, a hollow ache that grew with each memory. “why didn’t anyone tell me?” she asked, her voice trembling with frustration. “i would’ve…i would’ve come back…or done something.”

her da heaved a sigh, his expression sad but understanding. “darling, it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to bring up. you were busy with college, building a life out there, we didn’t want to pull you back into something you’d left behind. and y/n, she wasn’t letting anyone in. not even us.”

“she shut everyone out?” she whispered, her chest tightening at the thought of you going through that alone. “i was her…friend.”

she’d left, chasing a future in the city, cutting ties, thinking she could escape without looking back; you stayed.

the town looked the same — fields stretching out wide, familiar old houses dotting the road, half-empty streets lined with memories she’d tried so hard to bury. she remembered thinking she needed to get out, to be someone bigger than this place. everything felt smaller, yes, but also somehow more real.

“your friends are still around, you know,” he said, glancing over at her. “danielle, hanni, haerin, hyein; most folks have moved on, but those girls are still here. might do you some good to see them while you’re back.”

she smiled faintly, memories of their laughter, their teenage dreams, filling her mind.

“maybe,” she murmured, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

he gave her a sideways glance, his eyes softening with something close to pity. “you know, darling, it’s funny how we all make a big fuss about things that don’t really matter,” he began slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “when you two were younger, we all knew. hell, everyone knew. this town may be small, but we ain’t small-minded.”

she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, looking down at her hands. she could feel the sting of shame creeping in, a bitter taste at the back of her throat. “you…you didn’t care?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

minji felt stupid — realising just how much of her fear had been rooted in an imagined rejection, an unfounded worry of not being accepted in the eyes of her own family.

he shook his head, his expression soft. “we just wanted you to be happy. you two were good for each other. anyone could see that. your mother and i, we didn’t care, not like you thought,” he sighed, looking out at the familiar fields and fences as they passed by. “but you ran off, and i think she, well, she tried to move on too. but this town has a funny way of holding on to people.”

“what do you mean?” she bit her lip, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“she left when you did, but came back,” he admitted, sighing. “think she wanted to find you, knocked on our door one night asking for your address.”

her heart dropped. “why didn’t she call me?”

“y/n and phones don’t work well together,” he laughed lightly. “we tried to call you to let you know, but you were barely answering anyone ‘round the time —“

“i’m sorry,” a tear slipped out of her eye. “i didn’t mean to; i don’t know why i acted like rhodes didn’t do me any good.”

he placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently. “whatever happens, you apologise to that girl, alright? make things right before you leave her again — you two were good together.”

she nodded, unable to look at him, her mind racing with memories, with the realisation of all she’d left behind, the things she’d tried to forget.

the words settled over her it was soothing a wound she hadn’t known she still carried. she’d spent so much time running, afraid that love would trap her, would limit her to a small life in a small town.

right now, sitting beside her da, she felt a strange sense of clarity. perhaps she’d underestimated this place and the people in it.

they drove in comfortable silence until, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone riding a horse along the edge of the field that bordered the road.

her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the figure — your figure, sitting tall and steady, guiding duke with practiced ease; his golden brown coat shining against the light. you looked so much like the girl she remembered, and yet different, a little older, a little harder, like the years had carved something new into you.

when the truck drove pass, you forced yourself to remain steady, giving a small nod to her dad. yet you kept your gaze neutral, as if minji wasn’t even there, like the sight of her hadn’t stirred something deep within you.

she was just another face in the passing cars, another stranger returning to a place she’d left behind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

everything started to change in senior year. maybe it was the way she began to linger a little longer at the gate, waiting for you even when her friends had already headed off without her. or maybe it was the stolen glances, the subtle softening of her expression when she looked your way, as if she saw something there she hadn’t noticed before.

whatever it was, you both fell into it quietly, like it was bound to happen someday.

it started as a subtle shift. you had always coexisted in the same small world, but it was only in those final years of high school that the space between you began to close. you couldn’t remember exactly when the glances turned into something more, when the quiet nods in the mornings became soft smiles, lingering a second longer than before.

the summer night was thick with warmth, the air alive with laughter, music, and the soft crackle of a bonfire that cast flickering shadows across the lake.

these gatherings always felt a little surreal, like you were watching a movie of someone else’s life from the outside, not quite fitting into the easy flow of conversation and laughter that everyone else seemed to slip into naturally.

minji was there too, laughing with her friends, her figure caught in the soft glow of the fire. she was radiant tonight, her summer dress clinging to her as she moved. you tried not to look at her too much, to avoid the tightness in your chest whenever she glanced your way or threw her head back in laughter at something one of her friends said.

she was beautiful, so bright and alive that it hurt to look directly at her for too long, like staring into the sun.

you kept your distance in front of the fire, knowing it was safer this way. you were her friend — but that was all. wanting more than that was a line you couldn’t cross, a risk you weren’t sure you could take.

and yet, it didn’t stop the ache, the impossible yearning that twisted inside you every time you saw her smile at someone else.

“hey buddy,” hanni scooted beside you, handing you another can of beer. she was one of minji’s friends from the cheerleading team. “why don’t you join her?”

you shook your head, warmth rushing to your cheeks as you took the budweiser. “thanks hanni - and i’m all good, i’m too awkward to make conversation anyways.”

she chuckled, cracking her can open. “minji talks a whole heap ‘bout you — all good things too.”

“that’s good to know,” you smiled. and for a second, minji’s eyes land on you both, motioning for you to come. “go ahead, join them.”

“s’ppose i should,” she stood up, patting your back. “come join us later, yeah?”

it was as you were lost in thought that he appeared — sunoo. he slipped into their group around, all charm and confidence and leaned close to minji, his hand brushing against her arm as he said something that made her laugh. she didn’t pull away, didn’t seem to mind his closeness and the sight of it made your stomach twist.

what he wanted was too obvious; it was written all over his face, in the way his eyes followed her, the way he leaned into her like she was already his.

there was some sort of bitterness churning in your chest. sunoo was everything you weren’t —outgoing, popular, confident in ways you couldn’t be. he could have her without hiding, without pretending and the thought of it was like a knife twisting in your heart.

you weren’t sure how long you watched them, how long you let yourself feel that raw, consuming ache, but eventually, it was too much.

without a word, you turned and walked away from the bonfire, letting the noise and laughter fade behind you as you headed down toward the jetty, where the lake stretched out into the dark, quiet and still untouched by the party.

letting your feet dangle over the water, you stared out at the lake. the gentle lap of the waves against the wood soothing but not enough to calm the storm inside you.

it was painful, this quiet longing, this want that could never be more than a secret. you wanted her more than you’d ever wanted anything but you knew you’d never be able to have her the way you wanted to — openly, without fear, without shame.

she was quiet as she walked down the jetty, her footsteps soft, almost hesitant. when she finally reached you, she sat down beside you, her legs swinging over the edge as she stared out at the water, her face bathed in the silver glow of moonlight.

“there you are,” she muttered softly, not looking at you. “why did you leave?”

you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the lake. “just needed some air.”

“is that really all?” her voice was steady, but there was something beneath it, something careful and probing.

you clenched your jaw, unwilling to admit it. “i just didn’t want to be around all those people.”

she didn’t answer right away, and you could feel her watching you, her gaze intense, searching.

“y/n,” she said after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper. “why don’t you ever look at me? really look at me for a second longer?”

the question startled you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. you looked away, your heart hammering, feeling raw and exposed under her stares. “what are you talking about? i look at you all the time, minji.”

“no,” she murmured, shaking her head, her eyes never leaving you. “not like that. not the way you look at me when you think i’m not watching.”

you swallowed, feeling a surge of panic. you hadn’t realised she’d noticed the way your gaze lingered a little too long, the way you watched her like she was the only person in the room. you’d thought you’d hidden it well, that she couldn’t possibly see the feelings you’d kept buried so deeply inside.

“minji, i…” you started, your voice barely audible, thick with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. “it’s complicated.”

she didn’t look away, her gaze steady, unflinching. “complicated?” she repeated, a trace of frustration in her voice. “we both know there’s something here. we’ve both felt it…haven’t we?”

you wanted to tell her the truth, to let everything you’d been holding back pour out, but the words felt stuck in your throat, tangled up with fear and doubt.

“you don’t understand,” you told her, your voice barely more than a breath. “you’re perfect. you belong in the light, with people who can stand beside you without hiding. i don’t want to be someone you have to keep a secret.”

she let out a soft, shaky laugh, her fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. “you think i care about that?” she murmured, her voice raw, vulnerable. “you’re the one person who’s ever really seen me. who’s ever made me feel like…like i’m enough.”

the honesty in her words was like a jolt, cutting through the walls you’d built around yourself. you turned to her, finally meeting her eyes and the intensity in them took your breath away.

there was something there, and for the first time, you let yourself hope — hope that maybe she felt the same way.

“minji…” you whispered, barely able to speak, your voice thick with everything you’d kept hidden. “i’m scared.”

she reached out then, her fingers grazing your cheek, her touch gentle but steady. “me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling just slightly. “but that doesn’t change the way i feel. i don’t want to hide from this, from you. not anymore.”

before you could process what was happening, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, as if she were testing the waters.

you froze for a moment, caught off guard by the rush of warmth, the softness of her touch, and then you kissed her back; the weight of all your unspoken feelings pouring into that single moment.

her hands found their way to your neck, fingers threading through your hair as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, her lips warm and insistent against yours.

there was something desperate in the way she kissed you, as if she’d been holding back just as much as you had, as if this was a release, a breaking point you’d both been hurtling toward for so long.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, her forehead resting against yours as she closed her eyes, a small, contented smile playing on her lips.

“see?” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth. “that wasn’t so hard and scary now, was it?”

you chuckled, a small laugh, feeling a sense of relief and joy you hadn’t known you’d been holding back. “not with you,” you murmured, your fingers lacing through hers.

she leaned her head against your shoulder, her hand still entwined with yours, the two of you sitting there in the quiet, the world around you fading into the background.

“my love,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence, “i don’t care about what people think. i don’t care if we have to hide.”

you turned to her, feeling something settle in your chest, something warm and steady, and you squeezed her hand, nodding. “then we’ll make it work. one step at a time.”

she smiled, a soft, genuine smile that lit up her face, and as you both sat there on the edge of the jetty, the lake stretching out into the quiet of the night.

she was worth it. and for the first time, you let yourself believe that perhaps you could have this; the kind of love you’d always thought was beyond reach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

for the next few months, your world became a quiet paradise — stolen moments and secret meetings. there was a thrill to it, hiding from the prying eyes of the town, laughing together as you pulled her behind barns or up into the fields where no one could see. it was always careful, always hidden. there was too much at risk if people found out – a town like yours didn’t take kindly to love that didn’t fit within its old, narrow-minded lines.

every day, you moved through the halls and classrooms, blending into the background, unnoticed by most, unless they asked you to look at their truck.

since you’d started seeing minji, your world seemed to shift in small ways that you couldn’t help but notice.

take lunch, for instance, it had started to feel like the highlight of your day. you’d usually sit alone or with a few other quiet friends, minding your own business, eating whatever lunch you’d packed from home.

on some days, she would appear, just casually walking by your table, glancing around like she wasn’t really looking for anyone in particular.

she’d give you a quick nod, a hint of a smile and drop something onto the table in front of you: a sandwich, a bag of fruit, or even a little box with cookies she’d baked the night before.

“you gotta eat,” she never said more than that; she’d just let the items slide across the table before walking off, her gaze distant, like she hadn’t just slipped you a part of herself.

“what’s that all about?” jimin asked you one time, his eyes twinkled with curiosity. “you bribe her or something?”

“just payment for fixing her car one time,” you lied through your teeth.

one of the days jimin wasn’t around, she handed you a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, carefully made, crusts cut off, the kind of neat, perfect thing you’d expect from someone like her.

you looked down at it, raising an eyebrow before looking up at her with a questioning glance.

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide the small smile playing on her lips. “don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, her voice low so no one else would hear. “i just…made an extra, mum thought it’d be nice for me to give the neighbour one.”

you couldn’t help but grin, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching before unwrapping it. the sandwich was cut into perfect triangles, layered with fresh ingredients, something better than you would’ve ever packed for yourself. taking a bite, you could taste a mix of flavours, like she’d actually put thought into what you’d like.

“you don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you said quietly, the words softened by the smile you couldn’t hold back. “i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“maybe i want to,” she replied, a hint of defiance in her tone. “and besides, it’s not like you’re any good at packing lunches.” she glanced down, brushing an invisible speck off her shirt. “consider it…payback for letting me take duke out for a stroll.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “right, payback,” you repeated, knowing it was an excuse, a flimsy cover for something neither of you would ever say out loud, not here in this cafeteria, surrounded by people who wouldn’t understand.

“see you later?”

“later,” you nodded.

she began to walk away, but then turned around. “where’s jimin? why are you all alone?”

“oh, he’s somewhere ‘round the library.”

sometimes, in between classes, you’d find little notes slipped into the side pocket of your backpack, tucked away where no one else would see. they were simple, scribbled on scraps of paper, sometimes written hastily as if she’d been worried someone might see.

meet me by the bleachers after school.

or sometimes just a simple:

thinking of you.

each note was like a quiet reminder that, even in this place where you both had to pretend, she was still there, still yours in ways no one else could see.

and then there were moments in class, small interactions that felt like secrets passed between you in plain sight.

in history class, she’d sit a few seats ahead of you, close enough that you could catch her profile when she turned her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder. sometimes, she’d glance back, just for a second, and her eyes would meet yours. her lips would twitch in the hint of a smile, so brief that you’d almost wonder if you’d imagined it, before she turned back, her focus on the teacher, face calm and composed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

one day, as the bell rang and students began to file out, you were gathering your things when you felt a light touch on your shoulder. you turned to find her standing beside you, her expression calm as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be waiting for you like this.

“forgot your pencil,” she murmured, holding it out to you.

you blinked, glancing down at the pencil in her hand. it wasn’t yours — it was hers, the one she’d been using to write down notes during english class.

“thanks,” you said softly, taking it from her. your fingers brushed, the brief contact sending a spark through you that you fought to keep off your face.

“no problem,” she replied, giving you a small smile before turning and slipping into the crowd, her footsteps blending with the sounds of students heading to their next classes.

after school, you’d wait by the bleachers, like she’d asked in her note, the cool breeze brushing against you as you watched the field, waiting for her familiar silhouette.

when she finally appeared, she’d slip beside you, careful to keep a few inches of distance in case anyone saw. but once you were alone, she’d let the distance disappear, leaning into you, her hand finding yours, fingers interlacing as if they’d been made to fit.

“you know, we’re pretty good at this whole sneaking-around thing,” she’d say with a smirk, her voice soft, barely more than a whisper.

you’d laugh, pulling her closer, the world fading as she looked up at you, her gaze warm and open, the side of her that no one else ever got to see.

“yeah, we are,” you’d reply, your voice thick with the happiness that came from simply being near her.

but it wasn’t perfect. minji was torn between her love for you and the life she was expected to lead. she still wore her role as the town’s golden girl, her perfect smiles and flawless routines. in school, she was still minji, the cheerleader, the girl who turned heads.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was early morning, sunlight barely beginning to filter through the kitchen window as you sat across from your pa, both of you wrapped in the quiet warmth of the house. he was sipping his coffee slowly, his gaze flicking to you over the rim of his mug with that familiar, soft smile.

mornings with him were usually quiet, a calm routine of eggs, bacon, and the occasional weathered joke about the new mayor or murphy.

but today, he looked at you with a different kind of mischief.

“so,” he started, drawing out the word as he reached for his mug, “i hear whispers that young love might be in the air.”

you choked a little on your toast, shooting him a look. “what’re you talking about, old man?”

he shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “oh, nothing. just that i’ve seen you two running around a lot more lately. seems like every time i look outside, you’re showing minji how to fix up the old truck, or you’re off to murphy’s together. ‘bout time you made a girlfriend, don’t you think?”

“minji’s not…i mean, she’s just…” you felt the heat creeping up your neck and ducked your head, focusing on your plate. “it’s nothing like that.”

“mmhm,” he hummed, watching you over the rim of his cup. his eyes crinkled in a way that suggested he didn’t believe you at all. “nothing like that. you know, i wasn’t born yesterday, kid. i know the look of young love when i see it. and i see it whenever she’s around.”

fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mugc you shifted in your seat. “we’re just friends, pa. it’s not…it’s not like that.”

“well, friend or not,” he continued, his voice softening. “i’m glad you’ve got her. this town can be small and stifling. finding someone who makes it feel a little bigger, a little brighter? that’s special.” he leaned forward, his expression gentler now, serious. “and if it’s more than that? well, that’s okay too.”

you were quiet for a long moment, letting his words sink in. your pa, who you’d thought would be the first to disapprove if he ever caught wind of anything between you and another girl, was sitting here telling you it was okay. telling you he saw something good in it.

“and even if we were dating…it’s not like folks around here would accept it,” you finally admitted.

he nodded, considering this. “you’re right. people here can be set in their ways. but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and so does minji from what i’ve seen. besides, the world’s changing. more than you might think.” he reached out and gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “sometimes, you just have to carve out your own happiness, no matter where you are.”

you looked down at his hand over yours, feeling a sense of warmth and support that made your chest ache.

“you really think it could work?” you asked softly, almost to yourself.

“why not?” he replied with a gentle smile. “you two look at each other like there’s no one else in the world. that’s rare, kid. don’t be so quick to brush it off. your ma would be proud if she were here.”

the idea of a future, of something real and tangible with minji, flickered in your mind, fragile and uncertain. it was a thought you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on before, too afraid of what it would mean. hearing your dad’s quiet approval, his belief in something that had only been a whisper of hope in your own heart, made it feel…possible.

“so you’re seeing the town’s princess, huh?” he added with a smirk, breaking the serious moment and making you roll your eyes, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks again.

“i’m not talking about this with you, old man,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

just then, the screen door creaked open, and you glanced up to see minji standing on the porch, her hand raised in a tentative wave.

“speak of the devil again,” he said under his breath, giving you a knowing look before he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “morning, minji,” he greeted her, tipping his hat as he passed by. “got errands to run with your da today.”

as he disappeared into the other room, she stepped inside, flashing you a bright smile that only made your stomach twist further.

“hey,” she greeted, glancing between you and the door your dad had just exited from. “everything okay?”

you nodded, forcing yourself to return her smile. “yeah, everything’s good.”

later that afternoon — the fields were quiet, bathed in the soft amber of the setting sun, the sky stretching out wide and endless above you two.

you lied beside each other on the blanket, surrounded by wildflowers and the tall grass, nothing but the sounds of the distant crickets and the soft whisper of the wind between you. it was your secret spot, the one place in the whole world where you felt like nothing else mattered.

minji was on her back, gazing up at the sky with that faraway look she sometimes got, the one that told you she was somewhere else, imagining bigger things beyond the town limits.

you turned to watch her, the golden light casting a glow over her features, her expression open and hopeful in a way she rarely let anyone see. “you’re beautiful, you know that?”

she chuckled, tilting her head in your direction. “says you.”

then the silence returned — she was in deep thought again.

“baby, have you ever thought about it?” she asked suddenly, breaking the quiet, her voice gentle but filled with something electric. “leaving this place? just…going somewhere new, somewhere no one knows us?”

you let out a small, thoughtful hum, your eyes tracing the lines of her face. “not really. i mean, this is home. pa’s here. everything i know is here.”

“yeah, but there’s so much more out there,” she said, a glint of excitement in her eyes as she turned to you, propping herself up on one elbow. “the city is full of things we can’t even imagine. places to see, people who’d never think twice about…us.”

“and what do you imagine?” you asked softly, feeling your heart quicken at the way she was looking at you.

her lips curved into a small smile, her eyes bright with a dreamy sort of wonder. “i imagine living in a tiny apartment where you can see the city lights from the windows. going to diners at midnight, meeting new people, exploring places no one’s heard of. and not having to hide who i am, or who i’m with.”

she reached out, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on the back of your hand. “don’t you want that too?”

you sighed, glancing out over the fields, feeling a pang of longing you hadn’t even realised was there. “perhaps. i mean, i like it here. it’s…safe, you know? sure, it’s not perfect but it’s home.”

she fell quiet for a moment, her fingers still tracing patterns on your skin and then she leaned closer, her voice soft and persuasive. “but what if we could make a new home?”

you closed your eyes, her words wrapping around you like a promise. you’d always thought you’d stay here, grow old in the same town but the way she spoke, with such certainty, made you wonder if there could be something more — something that didn’t have to end with this field, this town, this life.

“it’s a lot to ask,” you murmured, opening your eyes to find her watching you, hope flickering in her gaze.

“i know,” she whispered, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering against your cheek. “but maybe we could try.”

“you don’t even know what it’s like out there, darling. the city isn’t…it’s not a fairy tale.”

“maybe it’s not,” she replied, her voice steady, resolute. “but i’d rather find out with you than stay here wondering. don’t you ever wonder?”

you looked at her, the conviction in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i do wonder. sometimes,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “but i’m scared. what if it’s too much? what if we…lose ourselves?”

she squeezed your hand, her gaze unwavering. “we won’t. we’ll have each other. that’s all we’ll need.”

and in that moment, you believed her. because if there was anyone who could make the world feel manageable, even the vast unknown of the city, it was her and her alone.

“you know,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “for you, i’d probably do anything.”

her smile softened, a trace of something bittersweet in her eyes. “then come with me. let’s get out of here, together. i don’t want to look back and regret never taking a chance on this. on us.”

you looked away, toward the horizon, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. “i’d miss him. my pa, your parents, murphy…mrs. kim, jimin.”

she nodded, her hand still wrapped around yours. “i know. and he’d miss you too, but we’ll visit every weekend. it’s only a plane ride away.”

you thought about the way your pa had looked at you, the way he’d smiled when he saw you with minji. you looked back at her, feeling the resolve harden in your chest, a quiet courage you hadn’t known you had. “yeah. yeah, we will.”

she grinned, the joy in her expression contagious. “then let’s do it, y/n. let’s plan it out. save up, make it happen. we’ll find a way.”

and as the sun sank lower, you lie back in the grass beside her, letting yourself dream about a life where you didn’t have to hide. and you knew, deep down, that as long as minji was beside you, you’d be willing to try.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was a gradual thing at first, barely noticeable in the beginning. one day, minji’s texts were just a little shorter, her replies a bit slower. maybe she had a lot on her mind, you’d told yourself.

she had college applications and cheer practice and her family always had a thousand expectations. it wasn’t like she had to be by your side every second.

soon, the changes grew harder to ignore. from giving you lunches to none at all — she’d even take a spot further from your table, putting herself at a subtle distance. at parties or the diner, she’d laugh a little too loudly with her friends, her eyes skimming over you like you were just another familiar face in the crowd. her laughter, once soft and shared between the two of you, had become louder and brighter around others.

she was trying too hard, and that hurt more than anything.

and when you’d walk to school, she’d trail a few steps behind you, enough that it seemed like she wasn’t with you at all. every time she pulled back, it was like a small tear in something you hadn’t realised was stitched so deeply into your chest.

“everything okay, baby?” you’d asked one afternoon as you leaned against the locker next to hers, catching her alone for the first time in days.

she’d barely looked at you, her eyes flickering around the crowded hallway as if someone might see the two of you standing so close.

“yeah fine,” she replied too quickly, her voice light but hollow. “just busy. you know how it is.”

“righto,” you tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, shoving your hands into your pockets as you looked at her, trying to read her expression but her stare remained fixed on anything but you. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

she hesitated, and for a brief second, the mask slipped. you saw the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty, but just as quickly, she hid it behind a bright smile. “of course, my love. there’s nothing wrong.”

she didn’t walk with you that day, catching a lift with one of the girls. and when you saw her with her friends, she barely acknowledged your presence. each day, it felt like you were losing pieces of her, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

another day, you’d been at murphy’s with her, sneaking glances at her from across the table as she sat with her arms crossed, tense. you tried to keep things light, talking about the old regulars who always had the same orders, the way murphy’s experimental pies could probably kill a man with one bite.

she’d laughed, but it was strained, and her eyes kept darting to the door, watching every person who walked in, as if terrified that someone might see the two of you together.

“are you…embarrassed to be seen with me now?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. it was softer than you’d intended, almost a whisper.

her face fell, and she shook her head quickly, reaching out before pulling her hand back as if she couldn’t bear to be caught touching you. “no, it’s not like that.”

“then what is it?” you pressed, leaning forward, heart pounding. “i don’t understand. we were fine a few weeks ago, and now…you barely look at me.”

she glanced around, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “people are starting to notice,” she whispered, eyes dropping to the table. “they’re… they’re talking, y/n. i heard some girls in my class say they saw us holding hands at the lake. and god, if people figure it out —“

“so what if they do?” your voice was harsher than you’d intended, frustration and hurt boiling over. “let them talk, minji. who cares? you said we were going to work through it together.”

“you don’t get it,” she snapped back, eyes flashing with something like fear. “you know what kind of town this is.”

you fell silent, her words cutting deep, the reality of what rhodes could be crashing down around you. it didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the feeling that she was slipping away, bit by bit.

“i just…i just need some space,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s not forever, y/n. just until things calm down.”

you nodded, trying to swallow the bitter taste of disappointment. “yeah, space. if that’s what you need.”

she gave you a small, apologetic smile, but it felt like a thousand miles were stretching between you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the morning sun filtered through your window as you adjusted your cap, tossing a few stray strands of hair under it. it was time to get back to your routine. you had thrown yourself into fixing trucks once again, focusing on the familiar sound of tools clanging and engines revving rather than the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you since the fight with minji.

you spent the day working on a 73’ mustang in the garage, hands greasy and your mind occupied with the rhythm of tightening bolts and checking fluids.

when you heard laughter coming from the living room, you paused, wiping your hands on a rag and leaning against the doorframe.

minji’s parents were over, visiting your pa, and you could hear their chatter echoing through the house. your heart sank as you strained to hear her name amidst the laughter.

“she’s been spending a lot of time with sunoo lately,” her ma said, her voice full of casual concern. “i hope she’s not getting too serious with him. that boy is trouble.”

it felt like the ground had dropped beneath you, an ache rising from the pit of your stomach. you’d been giving her space, hoping it was what she needed to make sense of everything, hoping she’d come back. but hearing she’d gone out with someone else — it hurt more than you wanted to admit, more than you were prepared for.

“y/n!” she noticed you walk in, a big smile on her face. “look at you working hard — going to open up a shop like your pa, aren’t you?”

“no, she’s moving to the city with minji, aren’t ya?” her dad laughing, elbowing yours jokingly. “that’s if this old man lets her go.”

“if she asks nicely,” your pa responded with a teasing smile. “with minji.”

“nonsense, y/n will run this town one day,” she dismissed her husband.

“one day, ma’am,” you replied politely as you ducked your head. “i have to grab something from the back — i’ll leave you old folks to it.”

later that morning, you slipped back into your room quietly, not wanting anyone to see the way your face had tightened with barely-contained hurt. a few minutes later, there was a knock on your door.

“kiddo?” your dad’s voice was gentle. he stepped inside, giving you a long look, and you could feel him taking in the tension in your shoulders, the slight clench in your jaw. “you alright?”

you nodded, brushing him off with a forced smile, though you knew he wasn’t fooled. “yeah, just tired. lot of work on the mustang today.”

he sighed, settling into the chair by your desk. “i know things have been…complicated lately. if you ever want to talk, i’m here.”

you swallowed, feeling the weight of his kindness, but all you managed was another nod, the words you wanted to say too tangled to even begin to unravel. he patted your shoulder once, his touch reassuring, and left you with your thoughts.

you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you threw your cap onto the bed. “yeah, just tired.”

he stepped closer, his voice softening. “you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

“it’s nothing, really,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss his concern. “just…school stuff.”

after studying you for a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “you know, when your ma and i used to have arguments — i was the same.”

you forced a smile, but it felt hollow. “i’ll be fine, dad. really.”

with a reluctant nod, he left you to your thoughts. but his words lingered, echoing in your mind, and you found yourself thinking of minji, of the way her laughter used to feel like home.

the next morning, you decided to change your routine. you started leaving for school earlier than minji, avoiding the moments you used to cherish.

this time, you rolled up the blue mustang you had been working on for weeks. it gleamed in the sunlight, the chrome reflecting the admiration of your classmates as they gathered around, whispering and pointing. you could feel the admiration but it didn’t fill the void left by minji’s absence.

for days, you kept this routine, ignoring her glances, her quiet attempts to catch your eye. the tables were turning, and even when you found small notes tucked into your locker or slipped between your books, you left them untouched, the sight of her familiar handwriting too much to face.

the hurt simmered, mingling with an anger you hadn’t expected — anger that you’d let yourself believe things could be different.

during lunch, you sat at the back of the cafeteria with mina and jimin, trying to engage in a thoughtful conversation.

“so, are you gonna drive jimin and i around town?” mina asked, half-joking. “dad saw it this morning and messaged me to ask you if he could buy it.”

“maybe,” you chuckled. “i don’t know if i can let go of these cars yet.”

“that’s why you don’t got a woman,” she rolled her eyes at you playfully.

“hey!” you slapped her hand off your redbull. “leave me alone, just cause you have boys lined up in your texts.”

you could feel minji’s eyes on you, the hurt and confusion etched into her features as she watched you laugh and joke with another girl — since when did mina even sit with you and jimin?

the pit in your stomach deepened as you noticed her brow furrow, an annoyed look crossing her face as she turned to hanni and danielle.

when you quietly walked with jimin to history class, he gave you a long look before speaking.

“you know, everyone’s been talking about the car,” he started with a smile, then softened as he took in your expression. “but i think there’s something more you’re not telling me.”

you hummed, trying to wave him off, but he just gave you that knowing look. “y/n, it’s okay. whatever’s going on between you and minji…i’ve always noticed. and i’m not here to judge.

you blinked, surprised. you hadn’t expected anyone to know, least of all jimin, and definitely not for him to look at you with nothing but love and understanding.

“i’ve always known,” he continued gently, “and if you’re worried about people finding out, don’t be. no one who matters will care about that. and you shouldn’t either.”

his words sank in, easing the knot that had been twisting in your chest for days. you sighed, finally letting the mask drop for a moment. “it’s just complicated. she got worried and now…”

he nodded. “sometimes people need to figure things out for themselves, but it doesn’t mean they don’t care. maybe give her a chance to explain.”

the confession hung in the air between you, and your heart raced. “it’s not that simple,” you finally said, frustration leaking into your voice. “i heard she was going out with that asshole sunoo, but she said she only needed space.

“right, but i’ve seen her slip notes in your locker, you should stop ignoring her,” he urged, his eyes earnest.

running a hand through your hair, you sighed. “maybe it’s for the best, that we don’t talk.”

“or maybe you just need to work things out. if it doesn’t go well, at least you’ll know.”

his words lingered in your mind long after he left, weighing heavily on your conscience. that evening, as you sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, you realized that you couldn’t keep running away from minji.

the next morning, you decided to walk to school like usual when you see her standing just outside your gate, her arms wrapped around herself like she was bracing for something. she looked up as you approached, her expression a mix of nervousness and apology, her gaze hopeful but uncertain.

“can we talk?” her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

you nodded, leading her over to the side of the house, away from any prying eyes. the silence stretched between you, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking a little. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just got scared. scared of everyone noticing, of what they’d think, of…us.”

you looked away, the hurt still fresh. “so you went out with sunoo?”

her face fell. “it’s not what you think. i was out with hanni and danielle. i told my parents i was with sunoo because i didn’t want them to think we were dating.”

you took a shaky breath, looking down at her, and the words spilled out before you could stop them. “so you pushed me away just because your folks noticed?”

she took a step closer, her hand reaching for yours, her touch gentle. “because i was scared. i didn’t know how to handle this, handle…us. but i’m not scared anymore. i don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

her words settled between you, softening the edges of your hurt. she squeezed your hand, her gaze unwavering, and for the first time in days, you let yourself believe her.

you pulled her into a hug, burying your face in her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you, holding on like she was afraid you might slip away:

“don’t pull away again,” you murmured against her hair, the words a plea as much as a promise.

she nodded, her voice a whisper in the quiet. “i won’t. not ever again.”

as you stood there, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the promise of a future that felt just within reach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the weeks drifted by, and while things were back to a tentative normal between you and minji, you could still feel the hesitation beneath her smiles and laughter. she was there with you, present and warm but some part of her held back, like she was testing the waters but ready to pull back at any moment.

whenever you sensed it, you held your tongue, deciding to give her the space to come to you in her own time. you both kept your routines — trips to murphy’s, teasing mrs. kim until she would roll her eyes and tell you to stop distracting her. you’d sit in your usual booth, sharing fries and stories of the day, filling the air between you with a comfort that kept you going.

as the end of senior year crept closer, word spread about a big party at taehyung’s house to celebrate. when mina and jimin brought it up at lunch, your first instinct was to turn it down. you knew minji would be there, but something held you back from wanting to be part of the crowd.

“come on, y/n, it’ll be fun,” mina nudged, her grin contagious. “you’ve been working too hard on those trucks. you deserve a night to let loose!”

jimin, sitting across from you, chimed in with his usual calm encouragement. “plus, it’s one of the last times we’ll all be together like this. just for a few hours?”

after a bit of convincing, you finally sighed, “alright, fine. but if it gets too much, i’m leaving early.”

the night felt heavy with the anticipation of summer as you stepped into taehyung’s backyard, which was buzzing with energy. lights were strung up from tree branches, and music poured from a speaker on the porch, filling the air with a low, steady beat. people laughed and shouted around you, all in a celebratory mood as if they could already taste graduation in the air.

mina and jimin led the way, pulling you toward a quieter spot just beyond the bonfire. a large group had gathered but you found some space with your friends around a patio table set up under the stars.

minji’s presence across the yard kept tugging at you. she looked effortlessly pretty, caught up in animated conversation with hanni and danielle.

her laughter floated through the crowd, and every time she tilted her head to toss her hair back, it felt like your heart skipped a beat.

as you sat with jimin and mina, your attention was pulled back to their laughter and light teasing. you tried to let their words drown out the ache, listening as they joked about plans after high school.

“so, what’s next for you two?” mina grinned, leaning forward with a sparkle in her eyes. “i mean, please tell me you’re both sticking around?”

“definitely,” jimin nodded, his expression easy and relaxed as he took a sip out of his wine bottle. “my uncle’s got a job lined up for me at his mill. it’s nothing fancy, but it’s good work.”

you smiled at him, grateful to hear the certainty in his voice. “sounds like you’re gonna be the nepo baby of that mill.”

“hey,” he laughed, shrugging as he nodded his head at mina. “what about you?”

mina shrugged, looking out at the yard. “i’m probably helping out at my parents’ restaurant. not exactly glamorous, but i don’t mind. plus, i’ll be around to keep you two in line!” she shot you a teasing look, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

the conversation shifted as minji, hanni, and danielle made their way over, pulling up seats around the table. it didn’t take long for the topic to extend beyond the girls.

“so, what about you, minji?” jimin asked, a faint curiosity in his tone. “you’ve got big plans, i bet?”

minji’s eyes lit up, her excitement unmistakable. “i’m planning to head to seattle. there’s a really great law program there and my mum already knows people who could help me get an internship. it’ll be…different, you know?” she looked around, her gaze lingering on each of you, but it felt like she was already somewhere else, looking past the small town lights and imagining herself far away.

you forced a smile, nodding along, even though the thought of her moving on without you gnawed at you. you were proud of her, but it was bittersweet. “that sounds amazing, minji. i’m sure you’ll do great.”

for a moment, she looked at you, a flicker of something in her eyes. you couldn’t quite place it, but it made your chest tighten, as if she wanted to reach out but held back.

then, just as quickly, she looked away, her attention drawn to danielle talking about how her family needed her help with their farm and hanni mentioning the fishing company just on the outskirts of town.

“so…am i the only one leaving?” minji asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

mina chuckled, shrugging. “yup. the rest of us are staying. small-town life isn’t so bad, right?”

“well, taehyung, sunoo — those football boys have big plans outside of rhodes too, so it’ll be alright, don’t worry about us,” danielle tried to cheer her up at the sight of her frown.

she smiled, but there was a sadness to it, like she was caught between wanting to stay and feeling like she had to go. you wished you could reach across the table and tell her it didn’t matter where she went — you’d always be there for her, but you stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the delicate balance you both shared.

“what about you though, y/n?” hanni asked. “i thought i heard your pa mention you were probably moving to the city.”

you shook your head, gently throwing sticks at the fire. “i don’t think i’ve ever mentioned that to him - s’ppose he’s just assuming i’ll try for an apprenticeship somewhere.”

“you’re not?” minji’s frown deepened, but quickly tried to mask it with a joke. “i mean…you could try for seattle with me.”

“i like rhodes,” you muttered, refusing to look at her. “perhaps, one day, but i don’t see any reason to leave now.”

before the silence could settle too long, taehyung stumbled over, clearly tipsy, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “alright, truth or dare time!” he slurred, eyes zeroing in on minji. “you in?”

minji, slightly emboldened by her drink, smirked. “dare. give me your best shot.”

minji, ever the bold one, smirked. “dare. bring it on.”

taehyung’s grin widened. “alright, i dare you to kiss my boy sunoo for five seconds!”

the table burst into laughter and shouts, some cheering her on while others shook their heads.

but you felt a strange pang in your chest, a mix of anxiety and dread as minji glanced in your direction. her eyes met yours, and you could see the hesitation there, the silent apology in the way she looked at you, as if she knew this would hurt. but then, with a resigned sigh, she turned and walked toward sunoo, accepting the dare.

you tried to steel yourself, focusing on anything but them, but it was impossible to ignore the crowd’s excited cheers, the way the laughter grew louder. you watched as she leaned in and kissed him by surprise, and in that moment, something between you broke.

“you alright?” jimin leaned over, his voice gentle amidst the noise. “you know she loves you, right?”

“i don’t know if i believe that,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended.

minji laughed with everyone else, her face flushed from the alcohol, the warmth of the fire flickering in her eyes. it was weird, seeing her like this — untouchable, almost a stranger.

after the dare, an uncomfortable tension clung to the air between you. every time you tried to meet her gaze, she looked away, hiding behind the laughter of her friends.

you wanted to let it go, to shrug it off as a stupid dare that didn’t mean anything, but the image of her kissing sunoo stuck in your mind like a thorn. it wasn’t the kiss itself; it was the way she’d looked at you right before she did it, like she knew exactly how much it would hurt.

she knew, and she’d done it anyway.

the whole night felt like it was slipping out of your control and you desperately tried to ignore minji. every glance from her felt sharper, colder, and when you caught her eye again, she just rolled her eyes and turned away, as if you were being unreasonable. the hurt started to twist into anger.

“hey y/n,” minji finally said, loud enough for the others to hear. “you look like you’re having a blast. didn’t know you were such a party animal.”

her words were laced with sarcasm, and a few people chuckled, though it felt forced.

“i’m just here for the company,” you replied, keeping your tone even - swallowing the retort that sat on the tip of your tongue. “some of it, at least.”

“really? why don’t you let loose and —“

“you don’t have to be like this, minji,” you cut her off, your voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t have to wear this mask all the time.”

“be like what?” she shot back, raising an eyebrow, her tone turning defensive. “it was just a kiss. you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend or something.”

the words landed like a slap. you clenched your fists, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you lose control.

“you know what? forget it,” you muttered, standing up. “i don’t even know why i came here — have a good night everyone.” you turned to walk away, ignoring the glances and murmurs from your friends.

it was jimin who finally broke the silence after you left. “what’s going on between you two?”

danielle and hanni exchanged a look, each of them glancing toward minji, who suddenly looked uncomfortable, the smugness gone from her face. she shrugged, avoiding their gazes. “nothing’s going on. y/n’s just dramatic.”

they all saw through her, the way she fidgeted, the way her eyes darted toward the direction you’d gone, almost as if she were second-guessing herself.

“maybe you should apologise,” danielle suggested gently, nudging her. “it seemed like it really hurt her.”

“apologise for what?” minji shot back, but her voice had lost its edge. “it was just a stupid dare.”

“doesn’t seem like it was ‘just’ anything,” hanni said, her voice soft. “not to y/n, anyway.”

minji glanced down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. she could feel their eyes on her, and for the first time that night, the laughter and noise of the party faded into the background, leaving her alone with the uncomfortable feeling she’d been trying to ignore.

the cool night air hit your face as you stepped away from the party, heading for the quiet of your truck. each step felt heavier, the hurt and anger swirling together.

you opened the door to your truck, about to climb inside, when you heard the crunch of footsteps behind you. you didn’t need to turn around to know it was her.

minji stood there in silence, her face partly shadowed, looking hesitant but unwilling to let you leave. she climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

the air in the truck was thick, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the silence between you. the moonlight filtered through the windows, casting a pale glow over minji’s profile as she sat with her arms crossed, her expression hard, lips pressed into a thin line.

she was angry, but so were you, though you could feel it simmering low, contained, refusing to boil over the way it wanted to.

the way you both wanted it to, maybe.

you kept your eyes on the road, jaw clenched, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. in the corner of your eye, you saw her glance at you, her eyes narrowing when you didn’t turn to meet her gaze.

she shifted in her seat, her fingers drumming impatiently on her knee. “are you really not going to say anything?” her voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding. it was more than a question — it was an accusation, as if your silence itself was a betrayal.

you felt her eyes on you, waiting for some kind of response, some kind of reaction. but you just kept driving, eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw set, trying to steady your breathing.

“what do you want me to say, minji?” you finally replied, voice low and steady, though you could feel the anger straining beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. you didn’t want to look at her, because you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to hold back.

she let out a scoff, shaking her head. “god, you’re so…frustrating. i kissed someone for a stupid dare and you’re acting like i did something terrible.”

you really tightened your grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white. “you knew what that would do to me,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper, the words laced with hurt you hadn’t meant to reveal. “you looked right at me and you did it anyway. in front of my friends.”

“it was just a kiss,” she snapped, her tone dismissive. “it didn’t mean anything.”

you swallowed, feeling the hurt settle heavy in your chest. “maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but it sure as hell did to me,” you shook your head, finally allowing yourself to look at her, your gaze steady, unflinching. “i thought this meant something to you too. what we have, all of it.”

“don’t you dare put this on me,” she shot back, her voice growing louder, harsher. “you’re the one who can’t handle a party game.”

“this isn’t just about a party game, and you know it,” you said, voice barely controlled, trembling with the effort of holding back. “you hurt me. i know you’re scared, but you have nothing to prove to them. you don’t owe these folks anything —“

“yeah right,” she laughed bitterly, throwing her head back as she cut you off. “that’s what this is about. this stupid, small-minded town.” her voice dripped with disdain, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something cold and sharp in her eyes that you’d never seen before. “well, newsflash, y/n: maybe i’m tired of hiding. maybe i’m tired of sneaking around and pretending that this —”

“say it, minji,” you dared her when you see the hesitation in her eyes.

she gestured between the two of you, her expression hardened, “this isn’t what it really is.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the sting of betrayal mingling with the anger that had been simmering all night. “and what exactly do you think this is?” you paused, looking over at her. “because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’ll forever be ashamed of me.”

she didn’t reply right away, and the silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. she looked away, out the window, her jaw clenched, lips pressed together as if she was holding back something sharp, something cruel.

when she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, colder. “maybe it’s not you i’m ashamed of, but the fact that i have to pretend this is even a real thing.”

the words cut deep, slicing through the fragile hope you’d been clinging to. you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to keep the hurt from swallowing you whole.

“so that’s it then?” your voice broke slightly, but you forced yourself to keep going. “i’m just some…some phase for you? something to keep you entertained until you find someone who fits your perfect little picture?”

she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “don’t twist this around. you’re the one who’s always so serious, who never lets anything slide. i mean, look at you,” she gestured towards you, her expression almost mocking. she was too intoxicated, letting words she’d been thinking all along out of her mouth. “acting like this whole thing is some grand romance when really, it’s just…it’s just something that happened. something that shouldn’t even be happening.”

you felt your heart shatter, the pain too real, too raw — you expected to hear it from other people, but not her.

“if that’s how you really feel, then why did you even start this with me?” you asked, defeated, eyes stinging as you fought to keep the tears from spilling over. “why make me think, no, why make me believe that maybe we could be something real? you made all these fucking plans with me!”

she looked away again, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. “maybe i wanted to see what it felt like,” she said quietly, her tone devoid of warmth, of the softness that had once made you feel like you were the only person who mattered to her. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. it’s…it’s too much.”

the words hung in the air, each one sinking into you like a weight, pulling you down into a well of hurt and betrayal. your breathing was shallow as you fought to keep yourself together.

“if it’s too much for you,” you said, your voice barely steady, “then maybe you should just get out of my fucking truck and out of my life.”

you didn’t mean for the words to come out so harshly, so final, but the pain was too much, too consuming to keep buried any longer as you stopped just outside of her house.

she looked at you, her eyes wide, almost shocked, as if she hadn’t expected you to push back. for a moment, she seemed lost for words, her lips parted slightly as she stared at you, something flickering in her stare that you couldn’t quite place as you pulled over two streets away from her house.

then, without another word, she reached for the door handle and climbed out, slamming the door shut behind her. you watched as she walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the night, the sound of her footsteps fading into the silence. the weight of her absence settled over you, a hollow ache filling the space where she’d been.

you stayed there for a long time, sitting alone in the truck, the emptiness swallowing you whole. you’d known, on some level, that it had always been fragile, that the love you’d built together was built on a foundation of secrecy and fear. but you’d hoped – god, you’d hoped that it could be something real.

that argument was the beginning of the end. there was no formal breakup, no final conversation. instead, there was silence – a painful, hollow quiet that replaced the laughter and stolen kisses. when you’d pass each other on the path or catch her gaze in class, all that remained was a shadow of what once was.

by the time graduation rolled around, minji was gone. she left town for college like she always said she would; moved away from the place that had both cradled and confined her.

life went on, as it always does. but some nights, when the world was quiet, you’d find yourself looking out at the road, half-expecting her to be there, waiting for you with that same, soft smile she’d given you all those years ago.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the familiar truck continued down the road, disappearing into the distance and you felt the weight of the moment settle over you like a heavy shroud. part of you had wondered, late at night when the world was quiet, what it would be like to see her again.

you’d imagined it in so many ways, but now that she was here, the reality felt more painful, like reopening a wound that had barely healed.

you nudged duke forward, resuming your path as if a brief glimpse of her hadn’t thrown your world off balance. you’d built a life here, a solid one filled with people you could count on and things you could control.

and minji, with her polished city clothes and her unfamiliar confidence, felt like a reminder of everything you’d once wanted to leave behind.

but you knew better. people left, that’s what they did, and you’d learned to carry on, even when it hurt. so you kept riding, eyes fixed on the road ahead as you turned towards home.

if only you could leave her memory behind.

it had taken years, but the garage was finally yours; a modest place, the kind that carried the scent of engine oil, worn leather and old, dusty tools handed down through generations. you’d started small, fixing up neighbours’ cars, trucks, the occasional tractor, and word had spread quickly in a town where people tended to hang on to things, even if they didn’t always work quite like they used to.

it wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but to you, it was everything — a place of your own, where you could pour yourself into work, let your hands keep busy and your mind focused on the quiet, familiar rhythm of repairing, restoring, and rebuilding.

it was a legacy, a continuation of the path your pa had set for you before he was gone.

after he passed, the garage became both a refuge and a reminder. he’d built this place from the ground up, had filled every corner with memories, with laughter, with the little lessons he’d taught you when you were still too small to hold a wrench properly.

now, it was yours alone, and that emptiness weighed on you like a shadow, even when you filled the space with the sound of clinking metal and the low hum of the radio.

some days, the silence grew too thick, too heavy to bear and that’s when you’d look up and find familiar faces showing up, as if they knew you needed them without you ever saying a word.

jimin was one of the first to start coming around. he was a friend who’d been there through it all, the good and the bad, someone you could count on without question. he’d always swing by after work, shrugging out of his jacket and rolling up his sleeves to lend a hand, his jokes filling the quiet spaces you couldn’t quite bring yourself to break. he was steady, like the tools on your workbench —reliable, unassuming, and never in a rush to leave, always lingering a little longer, making sure you were okay before he headed out.

then there was mina; popular and easygoing, but she’d stayed around town, unlike so many others. sometimes, she’d show up with a little bag of homemade pastries or the restaurant’s leftovers, claiming she had “extras” but always pressing them into your hands, eyes a little too soft, a little too knowing. she’d bring along her own car troubles too — things you suspected weren’t even that urgent — just so she’d have an excuse to hang around, helping with small tasks, keeping you company on those long, quiet afternoons.

danielle would come by, too, cheerful as ever, dropping off fresh fruits from her family’s farm. she’d place the basket down with a grin, insisting you take more than you needed, saying you had to stay healthy to keep the shop running. her laughter filled the garage, bringing a brightness that seemed to cut through the gloom. you’d find yourself laughing with her sometimes, even on the hardest days, grateful for her boundless energy, for the way she always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t say it.

hanni, haerin, and hyein were more like a trio of mischievous siblings (even though they were just neighbours), popping by whenever they felt like it, always claiming they were there to “help,” though you knew better. they’d come under the pretense of lending a hand, but more often than not, they’d be perched on your workbench or leaning against the open garage door, teasing you, nudging you to take breaks. hanni, would try to be serious, her sharp humor balancing out her kindness, while haerin would poke at your tools, asking questions about engines and oil, her curiosity both a help and a hindrance. hyein, the youngest, mostly just wanted to be around you all, wide-eyed and eager, trailing behind her older friends like a loyal shadow.

their visits had become a routine, a way to fill the space your pa had left behind, a way to keep you tethered to the world outside your own thoughts. they never mentioned minji or him. they’d remind you of simpler times, of the days when the garage was filled with laughter and your pa’s steady voice guiding you, his hand on your shoulder as you learned to tighten a bolt or change a tire.

you’d watch them joke and chatter, and for a moment, it was almost like he was still there, watching over you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it was one of those clear evenings, the kind that settled in with a comfortable chill once the sun dropped behind the hills. the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room, and the soft murmur of voices filled the cozy space.

you’d gathered everyone for dinner, an impromptu plan that had somehow grown into a tradition — a way to fill the quiet of your home, the emptiness that seemed to linger ever since.

mina, jimin, danielle, haerin, and hyein had all shown up with bottles of wine, dishes wrapped in foil, and enough energy to keep the house feeling alive. you’d done your best to clear off the table, moving aside spare bolts and tools, making room for the laughter and conversation that had been sorely missed.

the smell of dinner mingled with the wood smoke from the fire, filling the house with an almost nostalgic warmth.

as the night wore on, the conversation turned, naturally, to the topic you’d been bracing yourself for — minji.

“weren’t you ladies with her at murphy’s the other night?” mina said, glancing around the room, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “she looked, different. polished, but, like…still minji.”

murphy’s. after your pa passed, you hadn’t found the heart to go back. the place had started to feel hollow, too full of memories that were just a little too close, a little too painful to face.

danielle chimed in, nodding eagerly. “yeah, she looked good. better than good, honestly.” her voice took on a slightly teasing tone as she gave you a sidelong look, as if waiting for a reaction.

you stayed quiet, watching the flames dance, their glow reflecting off the glasses set on the table. you could feel the weight of their gazes, the unspoken curiosity hanging in the air.

then all knew — everyone in town had known, even if it wasn’t spoken out loud, and with minji back, those old stories were beginning to stir up again.

“she’s a top lawyer now,” hanni added, swirling her drink thoughtfully. “one of the best in the country, from what i hear. apparently, she’s only here for the summer, staying to help her dad with the estate and everything.”

jimin leaned back, eyebrows raised. “top lawyer, huh? guess that makes sense.”

“yeah, remember her talking about all the things she wanted to do?” haerin said, her voice wistful. “back in high school, she used to say she wanted to change the world or something like that. and now look at her.”

there was a murmur of agreement, a mix of pride and wonder in the air, as if everyone in that room felt a little piece of ownership over her success.

a part of you couldn’t help but remember those late-night talks, the quiet moments when she’d let her guard down, telling you about the things she wanted, the dreams she couldn’t quite share with anyone else. she’d always had that fire, that need to be something bigger, to leave her mark on the world.

“i’m proud of her,” you smiled, although bittersweet. “but she didn’t have to what she did.”

they all fell silent for a moment, their glances shifting to you, sensing something unspoken in the air. you could tell they wanted to ask, to know what it felt like for you to see her again after all these years. no one said it out loud, respecting the quiet way you kept yourself guarded, the way you stayed just a little apart from the conversation, even as you listened intently.

“it’s weird,” danielle said softly, her gaze warm as it lingered on you. “her coming back, i mean. like we’re all sort of older, different, but somehow still stuck here.”

“speak for yourself,” jimin grinned, nudging her with his elbow. “i’m thriving, thank you very much.”

they laughed, breaking the tension, and you managed a small smile, grateful for the ease they brought into the room, for the way they tried to keep things light, even if the weight of the past lingered in the spaces between the words.

as the conversation shifted to other things; haerin’s new job, hyein’s plans to travel, jimin’s latest attempt at dating — you found yourself half-listening, lost in the memories that had resurfaced with minji’s return.

they stayed late, laughter and soft conversation filled the room, each of them lingering, as if they knew you needed them there. and when the night finally wound to a close, when the last bottle was empty and the plates were cleared, you found yourself alone again, silence settling over the house like a familiar weight.

this time, it felt like something had been stirred, like minji’s presence had reignited a part of you you’d tried so hard to bury. and as you sat there, watching the dying embers glow faintly in the hearth, you couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you had been waiting for this moment all along.

the living room was dimly lit, you sat there, nursing a bottle of whiskey, lost in thoughts that never seemed to find closure. the ache of loss hung in the air, mingling with the scent of wood smoke and worn leather from the couch.

the shadows from the dying fire flickered against the walls, casting a warm, ghostly glow over the photos of you and your pa. your gaze lingered on one picture — faded, creased at the edges — of you both standing by his 88’ ford, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his face lit up in a laugh. it felt like a lifetime ago.

outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows slightly; a soft reminder of just how quiet and isolated your life had become.

the knock at the door was gentle, uncertain, as if the person on the other side was almost afraid to disturb you. you exhaled slowly, pulling yourself up and crossing the room to answer it — half hoping it wasn’t a neighbour or even an old friend needing a favour.

what you weren’t prepared for was seeing minji stand there, eyes glistening with unshed tears, her expression raw and vulnerable in a way that took you back to simpler days.

“hey,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice breaking the silence. “can i come in?”

you held her gaze for a long moment, your heart warring with itself. part of you wanted to shut the door, to protect yourself from whatever mess might follow. the other part, softer and rooted in all the kindness he had taught you, couldn’t do that.

stepping aside to let her in, you nodded, even though every nerve felt on edge.

the silence settled thickly between you both as she took in the room, eyes skimming over the quiet remnants of the life you’d built after she left. she glanced at the half-empty bottle of whiskey, then at the photos on the wall.

“i’m so sorry,” she said, looking down at her feet, as if the weight of the words was too heavy for her to meet your gaze. “no one told me…about your pa. i didn’t know.”

the pain in her voice was real, but you couldn’t let yourself soften just yet. you crossed your arms over your chest, glancing away, feeling the familiar sting in your throat.

“he was here one day, gone the next,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper. “he’d been fine. we were working together in the shop, laughing over something stupid, and then…then he was gone.”

the ache in your chest sharpened as you spoke, the whiskey doing little to dull the edges of grief. “i try to tell myself that maybe he’s with ma now. that they’re together, wherever they are — it’s the only thing that gives me any kind of peace these days.”

her shoulders sagged as if the weight of your words had settled on her too. she looked up at you, eyes shimmering with tears that she made no attempt to hide. “i’m so, so sorry, y/n,” she repeated, voice breaking. “i should’ve been here. i should’ve known, or at least tried to be there for you somehow.”

you held her gaze, fighting the urge to reach out, to pull her into a hug the way you would’ve years ago, but space between you too had grown wider over time.

“it’s a little late for that,” you murmured, unable to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “you left me without a word, told me what we had was a phase.”

she winced, nodding slowly, accepting the hurt behind your words. “you’re right,” she said softly. “leaving you was the hardest thing i ever did and i wish i could take back every hurtful thing i said that.”

“seemed pretty easy,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “leaving me behind and all that.”

she shook her head, biting her lip as fresh tears welled in her eyes. “it wasn’t easy, y/n. it tore me up but i thought you’d be better off without me after everything i put you through.”

you looked at her, and for a moment, the memories of all those nights you’d spent together, sneaking around the town, feeling like the only two people in the world, flashed through your mind.

“i did love you, minji,” you said finally, each word coming out slow, deliberate. “and for a long time, i thought that was enough. people change. things change. that phase of my life…it’s over now.”

the words seemed to hit her like a physical blow. she looked down, a shaky breath escaping her as she tried to keep her composure.

“i know,” she whispered. “i guess i just…just wanted you to know how sorry i am. for everything. for leaving, for not coming back sooner, for being too afraid to face everything i left behind.”

you nodded, feeling the weight of her words but knowing there was no going back, no undoing the years you’d both lived without each other. “thanks for saying that,” you murmured. “it doesn’t change things, but…it helps.”

she nodded, feeling defeated. “thank you for hearing me out - i know you didn’t have to.

you nodded, offering her a faint, bittersweet smile. “it’s what the old man would have wanted. he always had a soft spot for you.”

a sad smile crossed her lips, and she looked down, the weight of lost time pressing heavily between you both. she reached out, hesitated, then withdrew her hand, knowing there was nothing left to be said.

you walked her towards the porch, the silence between you now comfortable in its own way, a quiet kind of closure. as she turned to leave, she glanced back one last time, her eyes lingering on you with an expression that seemed to carry all the regret and love of years past.

as the door closed behind her, you exhaled, feeling the finality of it all. you knew that, somehow, you’d finally let her go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[lemon-slushie]

Madeleine x Dark Choco one shot

—————-

Fluff/ sfw story, around 3000 words

Before reading I’d like to say that I am nothing close to a writer! I literally wrote this is my notes app. I just wanted to try my hand at it. I also didn’t reread so there’s probably gonna be some mistake lol but some opinions in reblogs or comments would be nice!

Dark Choco’s gaze was fixated on the river in-front of him, clear water rushed past him with fish following in the waves but he wasn’t paying attention. He had come here to catch some food for dinner. Ever since he left the sword behind and began an easy life on the outskirts of his old kingdom Dark Choco had to personally hunt his food. Originally he detested the idea of hunting innocent animals but forced himself to do what he must, and it wasn’t as bad as he expected. It was almost calming, sitting and watching the animals go by, waiting for the weak of the bunch to show itself. Perhaps it was remnants of who he used to be peaking through. Dark Choco tried to ignore that thought though. But as of recently he couldn’t bring himself to relax at all, his head was filled with one thing and one thing only. Madeleine.

Madeleine had found him a few months back. Three perhaps? Dark Choco found it hard to keep track of dates nowadays. Madeleine, on a pursuit to expand his knowledge of the world and move away from his sheltered life, had left his home and ended up lost in the dense forest of the dark cacao kingdom. Wandering almost hopelessly until a the light of a campfire caught his eye, like a beacon of hope. Dark Choco remembers very vividly the first time he saw him. The way the knight excitedly stumbled onto his camp grounds, long platinum hair wind blown and messy with one of his bangs pushed back in a wing shaped hair clip as the other fell in his face , a thick blue jacket wrapped around him, but what Dark Choco remembers most was his face. Cheeks and nose tinted red and pink from the cold, blue eyes staring eagerly at him, and a big stupid smile. He was bright and stuck out like sore thumb against the dim woods. Before Dark Choco could get a word out Madeleine happily introduced himself. A “knight commander from the great Crème republic” he professed proudly. He remembers the way Madeleine fumbled over his words, trying to act as if he wasn’t lost at all and just needed a moment to rest and warm up, but also some directions to “refresh his brain” could be nice also. Dark Choco isn’t sure what possessed him to allow Madeleine to stay, perhaps it was his odd charm…or the guilt of leaving him to freeze to death in the forest. Whatever it was, Dark Choco allowed him to stay at the camp for a while to gather himself and thaw out.

Madeleine thanked him and quickly made himself comfortable, tossing down his backpack and making himself comfortable on a conveniently placed log. He asked Dark Choco a few basic small talk questions, his name, what’s he doing out here, so on so forth. He was blunt and short with Madeleine, though it didn’t seem to phase the knight as he easily went on talking about himself. Dark choco, not having much better to do, listened and soon found himself almost enthralled in Madeleine’s stories. How he and a “coworker” had saved his republic from a stray light shard (Dark Choco hasn’t a clue what this is but judging from Madeleine’s description it must be pretty bad), and the time he and a group of others fought and defeated a dragon, along with when he and his republic fought against the forces of dark enchantress and her servants of darkness. Dark Choco cringed to himself during the last story, though not having been apart of the darkness during this event, any reminders of his past always felt like a slap in the face. Despite that he still felt drawn in by the other’s story of his heroic stories, admired him almost. Madeleine nearly embodied all the Dark Choco had wanted to be, what he could’ve been. Madeleine almost reminded him of his old self, almost.

Madeleine was certainly a character, quite loud and boisterous, and clearly full of himself. His self centered nature was definitely something that took a bit of getting used to. Though, dark choco could tell his intentions were true, which made it easier. Perhaps his stories were exaggerated at times but the way Madeleine spoke about his desire to travel and learn felt earnest. Dark Choco wasn’t sure what had possessed him, he couldn’t help but feel almost completely charmed by Madeleine. His stories of being a hero, his want to venture out past his gated republic and discover, and even his self centered attitude even charmed him at times. With that, against his better judgment, Dark Choco allowed him to stay how ever long he needed. Madeleine gave him another big smile, along with some thanks, as he began digging in his bag for his own supplies to set up camp. The rest of that night was filled with mindless banter, mostly all from Madeleine. It was odd to Dark Choco. He hadn’t had just a stupid back and forth about nothing in so long. It felt good.

The following morning Dark Choco was almost sad to see Madeleine go. Dark Choco watched as he gathered his things as he spoke about basically nothing to him. Part of him wanted to invite Madeleine to stay for breakfast, but he his nerves caused a struggle to get anything out. Dark Choco hadn’t really tried to befriend anyone in quite a while, which led him to a bit of overthinking when it came to simple things such as a breakfast. Eventually Madeleine finished packing and Dark Choco pointed him off in the right direction, after some more goodbyes and more ‘thank you’s, Madeleine was off. Until he was stopped by a sudden grip on his arm. He turned around to Dark Choco and gave him a confused look. Dark Choco probably looked like an idiot, he stared back at Madeleine with a surprised face. He acted purely out of emotion. This was rare. After a brief moment of looking stupid, dark choco fixed himself, releasing madeleines arm, and finally finding his voice.

“… Perhaps.. You could stop by, after you leave the kingdom..?”

Madeleine smiled at him.

“Of course, my friend.”

That one spur of the moment decision is what led Dark Choco to where he is now. Madeleine stayed true to his word and visited him after he left the kingdom. He even brought along some gifts and food to show his appreciation for Dark Choco’s kindness. They sat and talked for hours that night, Madeleine setting up camp with him and spending the night once more. Though, one night turned into staying for breakfast, then dinner, then another night, then three nights, then into a week, then two weeks, then a month, and so on. Perhaps they were just lonely from spending days traveling by themselves but the two just seemed to click. Dark Choco hadn’t had a friend by his side in so long that he gladly welcomed the new warmth of Madeleine. Though as the days continued dark choco couldn’t help but notice that something deeper than a feeling of friendship was beginning manifest within him. All of his thoughts were taken over by Madeleine, he was all Dark Choco could think about. His bright hair and how stray pieces fell perfectly around his face, the way his eyelashes sat over half-lidded eyes, and the thing he thought about most was his smile. Madeleine’s smile was big, goofy, and contagious. He always managed to get at least a smirk from dark choco, even from the most unfunny jokes. Just from his smile.

So here Dark Choco was now. Staring blankly into a river as he desperately tried to navigate his new feelings. Romance had never been something he thought about before, whether he didn’t have time for it or simply didn’t care for it. All of these emotions were beginning to get frustrating, he had no clue how to deal with them. He couldn’t tell Madeleine, he didn’t want to risk driving him away if the feelings weren’t mutual. What was he to do? A splash from a fish jumping in the river snapped him out of his thoughts, reminding him why he was even here in the first place. Dark Choco sighed and focused his attention onto the river, its best to try and distract himself from these thoughts.

Dark Choco made his way back to his- no, ..their campsite, with a small basket of fish in hand. Fresh snow from the night before crunched under his feet and crisp air filled his lungs. He enjoyed his new life, it was quiet and peaceful. Dark Choco walked slow and leisurely, enjoying the forest life around him. Though the freezing temperatures of the kingdom did not allow for much flowers or other plant life, he enjoyed the large old trees. The trees blocked out quite a bit of sun, leaving most of the forest floor shaded but the sun that did shine through made the snow look as though it had glitter mixed into it. A soft glow of yellow and orange against the snow and branches caught Dark Choco’s attention as he got closer to camp. He crept up behind a nearby tree and peaked over the side. Of course, there sat Madeleine by a fire. It may be odd, but Dark Choco enjoyed watching him from afar at times and seeing how he acted on his own without worry of others seeing. Perhaps it was something of a guilty pleasure, trying to get a glimpse of Madeleine without his persona. The flame infront of him was a little small, as he wasn’t very experienced in living outdoors, but he tried nonetheless. After a little bit of judging Madeleine’s camping skill, Dark Choco noticed something that made his heart skip. Madeleine had taken Dark Choco’s cloak and was wearing it. He sat with he’s knees pulled to his chest and the cloak held together at the edges like a blanket. Dark Choco didn’t know why but something about seeing Madeleine in his clothes caused a heat to rise to his cheeks. He stood and watched the knight a little longer, engraving the scene into his head, before he finally forced himself to move and approached Madeleine.

“…I’m back”

He must’ve been quiet because Madeleine nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his voice, quickly stumbling to straighten himself out and removing the cloak.

“D- Dark Choco!! Haha! I didn’t realize you were coming back so soon!”

“…Why are you wearing that?”

Madeleine sheepishly slid the cloak off his shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh.. well, I suppose I’m not very used to such cold weather. Day and night I’m freezing no matter what. I needed some more layers and you left this behind so…”

He seemed embarrassed about being caught as he handed the cloak back but dark choco only pushed Madeleine’s hand back towards him.

“It’s alright.. You can keep wearing it…”

Dark Choco thought for a moment.

“Do you do this often?”

Madeleine nervously laughed to himself, rocking on his heels slightly.

“Only on the days you don’t take it with you. I’m not really used to such cold weather, the republic is quite warm all year round haha..”

Madeleine embarrassedly tried to explain himself but what he didn’t notice was the blush spreading on dark chocos face as he thought about Madeleine wearing his cloak around.

“…I see… that’s alright. You can wear it whenever you please..”

He smiled at dark choco, slipping the cloak back on. Though he still seemed a bit embarrassed.

“Gracious as always! Thank you, my friend!”

Dark Choco gave Madeleine a pat on the shoulder with a nod as he moved past him. He needed to fix Madeleine’s quite pitiful fire and begin cooking, he also needed to get away from Madeleine before he noticed just how flustered Dark Choco was getting.

After gathering some more wood to fuel Madeleine’s quite pitiful fire Dark Choco skewered and began cooking. Madeleine, of course, quickly started talking his ear off. He talked about anything and everything, what he dreamed of, how he slept, where to adventure to next, a grand story about himself, the weather, his family, so on so forth, and Dark Choco listened to every word. Perhaps he could take Madeleine to the Hollyberry kingdom next. He used to go there with his father when he was young, and from the little he remembered it was warm and bustling. Perfect for Madeleine. His mind began to wander once more. The Hollyberry kingdom is also quite known for its romance. The kingdom and many beautiful spots and plenty of dances for lovers to attend. He thought about how Madeleine would look in a nice tailored suit. He had only seen him in thick coats and layers, the picture of him in something more proper and fancy with his hair all done up made his cheeks begin to burn again. His thoughts continued as he imagined them dancing together in a ballroom, they’d be so close that he could count the faint freckles across Madeleine’s face, and he’d hold his hand as they danced. Dark Chocos was suddenly snapped out of his fantasies by madeleine calling his name.

“Hey! Dark Chocooo?”

He was suddenly aware of how hot his face felt.

“Ah-.. yes?”

“Are you alright? You looked out of it and your face is red.”

Madeleine looked concerned and Dark Choco was horribly embarrassed.

“… I’m fine. Forgive me.”

He shouldn’t be thinking about Madeleine like that anyway. They are friends and nothing more. Why would he imagine such a scenario in the first place? Despite Dark Chocos (admittedly poor) reassurance, Madeleine still looked concerned with his eyebrows knitted together.

“If something is troubling you, you can tell me!”

He put a hand on his chest as he spoke. He did that quite often, Dark Choco had noticed. It was a kind of cute quirk.

“.. Thank you, but I am fine..”

Dark Choco gave him a small smile to try and reassure him. Though Madeleine still seemed a bit suspicious, he dropped it. Dark Choco must have zoned out longer than he realized because the food was now fully cooked.

As they ate Dark Choco did his best to keep his thoughts in line as he listened to Madeleine blabber. Dark Choco gave scattered responses here and there but ultimately Madeleine was the one holding up most of the conversation, but that was fine. He liked listening to him talk, even if it was about nothing. Dinner went quick with the help of mindless chatter. Madeleine leaned back, stretching out his arms above his head.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early tonight.”

As he got up to head to his tent Dark Choco impulsively called out to him.

“Wait..! Uh.. If you want-…”

He bit his tongue and cursed himself for acting out again, Madeleine was going to be the death of him. He debated continuing, but he had already said too much and the confused look from Madeleine made him feel bad.

“Uhm.. If you are still cold… you could sleep with me in my tent tonight… It is more built for colder weather than yours is.. I assume..”

He felt more and more embarrassed as he forced himself to speak but a soft smile from Madeleine eased his nerves.

“I’d appreciate that.”

His voice was calm and quiet, it wasn’t often he heard Madeleine speak without his boisterous persona. Dark Choco savored it.

“… You can get yourself situated. I’m going to put out the fire.. then I’ll join you..”

Madeleine nodded and went to gather his things from his tent. Dark Choco did his best to quickly put out the fire, he’s never been more excited for bed. As he finished snuffing out the last bit of flames all he could think about was Madeleine waiting for him in his tent. It felt like an eternity until all the embers were out, but he was finally finished. Anxiously, he unzipped the tent and entered.

Madeleine sat on top of a small futon, slightly turned away from the opening of the tent brushing out his hair. Dark Choco hadn’t really seen all of Madeleines hair, as it was usually tucked into his coat to keep it from blowing everywhere. It was shockingly long, spilling out onto the floor all around him. It was pretty. Dark Choco watched silently as a the brush easily guided through long straight hair. Both sides of his bangs were out and perfectly framed his face, stopping right above his cheek bones. He seemed to be in his own world, with his eyes closed as he methodically brushed through his hair. The light cream color of his hair had a soft orange glow to it from a small lantern set by their sleeping bags. The dim light also hit his face perfectly, highlighting his long lashes. Dark Choco felt his heart beat quicken at how breathtaking he was. Eventually Dark Choco found his voice.

“Are you comfortable?”

Madeleine peaked over at him and smiled.

“Yes! You were right, it’s certainly less cold in here!”

Dark Choco couldn’t help but smile back, happy that he was comfortable.

In the corner of the tent was his borrowed cloak, along side Madeleine’s heavier layers. They were all folded up neatly next to eachother. Dark Choco followed suit and began removing his extra layers as well, setting them by the other clothes before sitting on his futon by Madeleine. It almost felt domestic, their clothes neatly laid next to each other as they sat together getting ready for bed. It was nice, it was comfortable. Dark Choco covered himself with his blanket and layed back onto his bed, closing his eyes and folding his hands over his stomach as he listened to the sound of Madeleine brushing his hair. He felt relaxed and he basked in it, he could probably fall asleep right then. After a while of brushing and the occasional hum from Madeleine he could hear shuffling as he got under his covers and clicked the lantern off. Dark Choco was began to doze off but the sudden sound of shuffling from Madeleine twisting and turning in his bed alerted him back awake. This became a cycle, almost asleep, woken up by shuffling, quiet, almost asleep, shuffling. He wasn’t sure how long this lasted but it was becoming bothersome.

“Madeleine.”

The movement abruptly stopped.

“…Dark Choco…”

“What are you doing..?”

There was a pause, Madeleine was a bit embarrassed from being called out.

“…Forgive me, but even though your tent is better than mine it is still quite cold and it’s making it a bit hard to fall asleep.”

Dark Choco hesitated for a moment, biting his cheek as he thought. Finally, he built up the courage and lifted his blanket up as an invitation.

“…Come lay with me then.. sharing body heat is good for keeping warm…”

He held his breath as a he nervously waited for a reply. Madeleine said nothing as he slowly got up and crawled under Dark Choco’s covers. Madeleine quickly made himself comfortable, laying his head against Dark Choco’s chest and wrapping his arm around his middle. A sigh of relief came from Dark Choco as he covered them up with the blanket and circled an arm around Madeleine. His heart felt its burst out of his chest. Madeleine could probably hear it thumping in his chest too, which was maybe a little embarrassing but he was far too happy to care. This was all he wanted for so long, just to be able to hold him and be close, and he finally had it. He squeezed Madeleine a little, earning him a quiet chuckle. Dark Choco could melt.

“Let’s start traveling somewhere different. I’m sick of this frozen hellscape.”

Dark Choco laughed as Madeleine complained.

“…How about the Hollyberry kingdom?”

Madeleine thought for a moment.

“That sounds nice.”

[themeraldee]

Can I get a wholesome little thingy of homie comforting his s/o that's like depressed what would he do? And give them snuggles? And although of course s/o giving homie headpats and caresses are top tier this time I want him to have to give headpats. Not because I'm depressed rn or anything (yes it is)

~1k | Homelander x gn!Reader | Established Relationship. Dealing with depression. Homelander's POV. Fluff. Just fluff really.

Something feels off when Homelander enters his penthouse. While he used to welcome the quiet of his home after he came back from events, this has recently changed. Ever since you’ve become a part of his life, any second spent without you feels like something’s missing. So it’s definitely out of order to get the same empty feeling when he's home. Usually you greet him with open arms or at least a ‘Welcome home’ shouted from another room.

“Babe?” Homelander calls out into the penthouse, the questioning tone reverberating through the open plan of his home. He knows you’re here. His question acts more as a reset, giving you a chance to play your role.

At your lack of response he quickly scans the room, seeing you in the bedroom. Very much awake but hidden under the sheets. So why wouldn’t you react to his presence? Shouldn’t that be something you look forward to?

You always do.

His mind runs at a hundred miles a minute. Even with the overwhelming positive effect you’ve had on his life it’s easy to fall into insecurity and despair, worrying about the worst possible outcome.

Homelander stops himself from rushing into the bedroom. But the slow one step at a time sinks the weight in his gut lower and lower. The anxiety of something being wrong has thrown him off-kilter. He doesn’t really know how to approach you when you’re distant like this.

So his over the top bravado will have to do.

“Heyyyy there sleepy head! You know it’s waaayyy too late for a lie in, don't you think?” He waltzes into the bedroom, hands on his hips, acting as if he was addressing a crowd. His voice is loud and clear, carrying a jovial tone that sounds a little too insincere even to his ears. 

He doubles down anyway. “If I knew you were planning to spend the entire day in bed I would’ve never left.” But, you don’t respond. He can hear your heartbeat, the slight rustle of the sheets and even the thud and glide of your finger scrolling down your phone screen.

When the silence gets too awkward for him to bear he peels the blanket from over your head, revealing you down to your waist. Immediately you squirm at the light coming from the outside after having your den of doom broken into.

Over the time that your love has blossomed into a relationship he’s gotten used to receiving comfort from you. You were there to listen to his countless rants and concerns. From the simple work related complaints to the horrors plaguing his nightmares. 

He should be able to do the same for you, right?

“Hmm… I’m just resting.” You sound dejected, empty. 

He swallows at the sound of you being so different. You’re missing the light that usually fills out the dark space in him. Homelander doesn’t know how to approach you. When’s the last time he’s had to comfort anyone? Truly comfort someone. Has anyone ever asked or even trusted him to be there for them?

Whether you’ve asked or not, he needs to be there for you.

It’s the least you deserve.

“Yeah right.”

He unzips his boots, setting them neatly next to each other before sliding under the sheets right behind you. He hooks his arm over you, pulling your back into his chest. And although you’re not reciprocal to his affection like you usually would be, the warmth he feels is enough to ease the anxiety in his gut.

He wedges his head in between your head and shoulder, watching with you as you mindlessly scroll through social media.

“How long have you been doom scrolling now?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head lightly against your shoulder.

 “I don’t know. A while I guess.” While you squirm in his hold your tone is still just as impenetrable.

“You’re not even looking at the screen!” When you don’t even react he frowns. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” He plucks your phone from your hands, turning and placing it on the bedside table away from you. He acts as a barrier between it and you, giving you no chance of getting it back. He rolls over back to you, greeted with the sight of you facing him.

Instantly he pulls you into him, both arms tightly around you with heavy comfort. It’s what he would’ve wanted in times of despair. It’s what you do when he seeks comfort. The whole body embrace where all he can focus on is you. It always grounds him.

He hopes it has a similar effect on you.

“What’s wrong?” He says. This time in a soft, low voice. No longer trying to put on a show. He’s meant to be there for you, not for a crowd.

“I don’t really know how to talk about it… Or if I even want to…” While you don’t sound like yourself, part of him is glad to hear your sadness. It’s better than the dejected empty voice. The closer you are to revealing your true sorrows the closer he is to getting you to feel better.

“Okay. You can… I don’t know, at least try to tell me something about what’s going on. Orrr, I will be reciting all of the amendments to the Constitution of the United States.” He’s gambling with the teasing tone of his voice but it pays off when you groan and giggle.

“Oh god no, not again!” 

“Welp, it’s your choice.” By now he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips. He gives you a soft squeeze.

“Alright, I can try.” You concede with a calm defeat.

“Good. That’s a start.” He kisses the top of your head, still holding and caressing you.

But most importantly, actually listening to you.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic):

@rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade @littlegaaby @jokesonyoupup

@nommingonfood @infinetlyforgotten @nervoussystemss

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

about a half an hour ago i turned twenty-two. i feel a little like eeyore saying, "it's my birthday pooh," about it. hard to celebrate right now. hard to know if i can trust the people around me.

but also. for about twenty four hours now, all i have been able to think about is the newborn child of a couple i have never met and likely never will. i keep thinking about susanna wolff and caldwell tanner. i keep thinking about how their first daughter was born in december of 2020. (i am not weird or creepy for knowing this, she wrote an article in the new yorker about having a pandemic pregnancy.) i keep thinking about how their second child was born recently, almost certainly within two weeks of the election. (i am also not weird or creepy for knowing this, the birth was announced by his podcast so he can take some paternity leave.) i keep thinking about these children, about the difference in the circumstances of their births. about the world we, as a country, have decided is fit for them.

and then i keep thinking about the fact that the world keeps turning. barring something awful happening, these children will get to grow up. they will go to kindergarten and learn to read and tie their shoes. they'll learn that the world is not fair and that there's something unexplainably beautiful about light pouring through the trees in late fall and that there comes a time when you gt to pull out your sweaters and get excited about clothes you had forgotten you owned and that people you love can come back into your life when you thought they were gone and that you will have favorite songs and poems and games and books and movies and and and.

i think about how every day people live their lives. a old woman i knew died last monday. twenty two years ago today i was born, too early and unprepared. every day people are living and loving and breaking. someone got married today. someone got divorced. yesterday i cried for hours and then spent two hours with my friends cheering them on in volleyball. twenty two years ago this week my parents took their incredibly ill baby to the hospital and a group of very dedicated medical professionals saved her life. twenty two years ago this week my grandmother got the call that she had breast cancer. a year ago i was diagnosed with a chronic illness. thirteen months ago i thought i might die before i saw twenty-one, let alone twenty-two. a month from now my grandfather is coming from his home, decimated by a hurricane, to watch me graduate from college.

what i'm saying is there are terrible awful things every day. there are. and yesterday was particularly awful. it's hard to know these things, to see where we are headed. but we cannot succumb. no nos podemos rendir. we cannot. the world needs us. we need us. there are so many quotes for this moment, and i am a magpie who collects shiny phrases instead of metals. i want you to say it with me - come on now, do it; i am trusting you with my earnestness. Hope is the thing with feathers. the light-soaked days are coming. we're here because we're here because we're here because we're here. unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, it's not.

or, perhaps more appropriately, i'll instead quote caldwell's friend, creating one of the most lovely scenes i have ever heard with him in a dnd game, shortly before the events of susanna's article:

you are afflicted with duty... the world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. what an honor. what an injustice.

[thecruel]

WORLD ON FIRE Season 1

[caluette]

the idiot with the painted face

[irkimatsu]

The energy that draws me to the Hellaverse is the same energy that drew me to Red vs. Blue about fifteen years ago. Scrappy, tasteless, the staff are having the time of their lives and the audience is free to watch if they want.

(Maybe RvB was TOO tasteless at times - oh, 2000's Internet culture... but still, you gotta admire their commitment to not giving a fuck without veering outright into offensive shock humor. Rarely too tasteless, just tasteless enough.)

Maybe the Hellaverse shouldn't have that energy. It has a higher budget, the backing of major companies, it didn't start as a bunch of friends ad-libbing while playing Xbox, unaware they'd make more than a few episodes or actually involve a plot.

But I love that about it all the same. 21 years after RvB premiered, web animation has come a long way, but we can still have a passion project that isn't beholden to advertisers or focus groups or people in suits who believe they hold the monopoly on good taste. The crew's doing what they want and we're just along for the ride.

I like that indie vibe, it's neat

[alphalesbian]

I guess Im glad ultimately Ive gotten over using this site well before I ever really put any of my shit here.

[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY

just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.

(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)

i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.

the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.

i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.

PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE

a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)

ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.

months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’

turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes

at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)

as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.

fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.

when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM

SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:

CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:

well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.

PART TWO: RESCINDED

a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask

right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.

of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered

there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA

first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.

second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.

in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.

TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.

i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.

but here we are.

PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?

this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:

when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.

it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?

i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not

my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.

at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense

PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES

it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say

BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?

is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.

if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.

and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?

(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)

i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.

you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.

if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.

so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.

THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.

as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING

AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?

any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?

let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.

when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.

if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?

or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.

PART FIVE: GENDERED

this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.

if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned

PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY

there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?

i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'

putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.

i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY

another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions

PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL

i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.

i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)

which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.

if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK

and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME

KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck

UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:

true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo

to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love

please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it

MOST RECENT UPDATE:

here is more

[pepperyduck]

“roomates” with satoru gojo

 this is part five of my kinktober event!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nsfw, roomate au, fingering, gojo has a nasty mouth, pwp!, virgin reader, overstim. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love the idea of actor and roomate gojo so much,,, may talk about it later. uploading early again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

having the satoru gojo as your roommate is quite the experience.

it was odd—

you had known satoru in college, always somehow getting stuck in the same overflow housing on campus. you had gotten to know each other well, being forced to live with the other off and on. after he had gotten his degree in drama—and you got your degree in a successful STEM major—he proposed moving in together. you needed a place off campus, and he needed someone to room with, because rent was too high for him to afford on his own as a budding actor.

things were fine for a while, daily routines consisted of seeing one another regularly. but then satoru had his first big gig. he disappeared for months, needed for a last minute replacement. he told you about the role; a younger version of a strong—no, the strongest—sorcerer. apparently, he got to play his part in a dramatic friendship breakup, which you figured perfectly suited the way satoru acted normally.

his fame quickly rose, with the series being released only a few months later. after that, satoru never really came around all that often; you saw him maybe twice a month, if you got lucky. but even after that, satoru stayed in the apartment. you didn’t mind, honestly, he kept up with his side of the rent plus some.

but the really odd part?

your social media feed.

every social wouldn’t shut up about him—“upcoming star, satoru gojo makes an impact in new tv series,” “he’s so hot, i’d let him do whatever he wanted,” “I NEED HIM,”

and yeah, maybe curiosity got the best of you when you searched up the fanfiction—but hey, people seemed like they would kill to be in your position. the creative minds of those online made you see your goofy, struggling artist of a roommate in a different light. the way they wrote about his chest, and how smooth and toned it is, or his sparkly blue eyes and how they could make clothes fall of with just a look. recently, satoru had shared in an interview his fingers are 6 inches, and boy did people go feral over that.

they focused on every part. his soft fingertips, and how lengthy his fingers actually are the more you look at them. the subtle veins that ran over the back of his hand and up his arm. his middle and ring finger, how nicely they slide in and out, hitting that spot, coaxing you toward—

“whatcha readin’?”

the abrupt question shocks you out of your trance, making you yelp and practically throw your phone across the room. it lands face down beside your vanity, earning a loud thud when it hits the floor. your heart speeds up as you turn to face your roommate, internal temperature rapidly rising.

“jesus, satoru! what are you doing home?” you ask, praying that he wouldn’t take it upon himself to grab your phone for you.

“it’s my apartment, too, y’know,” he retorts, throwing his hands on his hips dramatically. “i’m gonna be here for a few days, if you don’t mind.” every word off his tongue is laced in sarcasm. it’s annoying.

and just as you try to reply, gojo swoops to the other side of the room to grab your phone, intently staring at the screen before you can even say, “stop!” you want to run away because you just know he’s reading pure filth about himself that you looked up. but you find yourself unable to move whatsoever, only able to watch in horror as your roommate reads fanfiction about himself. immediately, a sly grin overcomes satoru’s expression, and his eyes flicker from the phone to you over his sunglasses.

“this is pretty detailed stuff,” satoru teases. you’re able to tell he is in fact reading whatever you had pulled up on your phone, because he’s taking his sweet time scrolling and reading through all the divine things said about his hands.

“stop, satoru,” you whine, pathetically reaching for your phone. gojo holds it out of your reach, of course, and even though you almost came to grab your phone that was almost touching the ceiling, you can’t quite reach it. “please just go away,” you sigh, giving up and flopping back down on your mattress. you can only look on, still mortified, as satoru continues scrolling.

after a few heavy minutes and some more comments on your choice of fiction to read, he throws your phone back on the bed next to you, placing his hands on his hips once more.

“how long were you gonna keep that from me?”

“never really planned on telling you, satoru. leave me alone.” you reply, grabbing your phone so it’s out of gojo’s reach.

“you could’ve just asked—,”

“go away—huh?” you furrow your brows and look at the taller man, who’s sassily posed next to your bed, “don’t fuck with me like that.”

“i’m not.” he assures you.

satoru wasn’t joking. in fact, he had never been more serious in his life. he’d always thought you were pretty – more like drop dead, breathtakingly beautiful – but never mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. you were his friend, his roommate. he didn’t want to scare you off. but all chances of him not scaring you off were thrown out the window because he knew you wanted him now.

so, yes, he did what he did with every other girl—encouraging a hot make-out session after you got over the embarrassment of what was on your phone. you hadn’t had a chance to think about all those stories you read online, because it was all happening to you in real time.

with your lips in a permanent lock, satoru takes his time rubbing his hands all over your body, grabbing your waist, flipping up the skirt you had worn in the previous hours to run errands—

“wait,” you labored out, breathing heavy as you pushed your roommate’s shoulders away from you, “i’ve never—i haven’t…” your words are tripping over themselves into silence as you try to explain to your – gorgeous, famous, actor – roommate that you’re a virgin.

queue satoru’s head almost exploding. he swears then and there that his nose should’ve started to bleed, and his face turned an awful shade of red at the news. it was unfathomable in his mind that you, his smoking-hot roommate, was a virgin. he swore he saw you come home with your ex-boyfriend plenty of times…but maybe you were saving yourself, or something.

“stop looking at me like that. you were a virgin too.” you scoff at his ogling, crossing your arms over your chest. you’re still trapped against your headboard, the sheer size of satoru making you stay in one place. your legs are draped over his thighs, not quite straddling but close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off of your clothed pussy.

“do you want me to finger you?”

the crude question rolls off his tongue with ease, and you smack his shoulder with the palm of your hand in return. but again, he’s being serious. it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s being serious, he wants to finger you and it’s written all over his face.

after a few moments and shocked blinks, you nod your head.

satoru’s nosebleed actually happens whenever he gets you in position; you’re laid back with your legs on top of his, knees pressing into his waist. he just stares in utter disbelief at how cute and sexy you look, flustered all because of him. he runs the pad of his thumb over the mound in your panties, relishing in how soft, warm and damp you are. he can’t take his eyes away from how his thumb presses into the flesh, pushing down just to watch how his thumb gets swallowed by it.

“satoru—your nose is bleeding,” you gruffly state, snapping the white-haired man back to reality. one hand stays pressed to you while he lifts the other one to wipe under his nose with the back of his wrist.

low and behold, a few droplets of blood smear on the back of his wrist—but he’s too entranced by you to care. he looks back in your eyes, wiping his face with his shirt grossly.

“i’m okay—can i take them off?” satoru asks, almost politely if he wasn’t bleeding from the nose at how horny he is. his fingers hook into the waistband, eagerly awaiting your nervous little nod that you give him. he rips the thin fabric off your legs, taking it upon himself to lift you up and move your legs so he can toss your panties to the side of the room.

your immediate response is to snap your thighs together, but satoru quickly stops you and holds your legs open, forcing you to show your most intimate area to him. he drools over how pretty it looks, folds spread open and glistening, a perfect display of anatomy. he’s in love with the view alone. a prominent tent pokes in his sweatpants, but he ignores the feeling to focus on the task at hand.

“stop staring,” you meekly speak up, eyes looking anywhere else but at your celebrity roommate.

satoru’s bright irises look up at you before asking, “can i?” with the looks of a child begging for a piece of candy. after another quick, nervous nod, satoru swipes his thumb over your hole, then all the way up to over your clit. the sensation makes you wriggle and gasp, it’s odd being touched by someone else—but it feels good, even better than alone. natural lubrication practically drips off your pussy, so prettily, and satoru continues dragging his thumb up and down, paying close attention to how you whimper or move around when he gets to the bundle of nerves poking out.

you feel particularly needy at his ministrations, they’re so slow and it leaves you aching for more when he moves to less sensitive parts of your cunt. every time your eyes flash to gojo, he’s completely locked on what’s between your plush thighs, making you all the more embarrassed. embarrassment is thrown away, though, when his middle and ring fingers close together and creep up to slowly rub your clit.

your body jolts and satoru silently giggles, god, you’re so sensitive for him, he might go insane. he finds it simply endearing how well you react to him. each small circle he draws over your bud makes your thighs twitch and hole clench, and from his view, he can see it all perfectly. satoru’s eyes look up at you for once, just to see your head thrown back on the pillow and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to silence yourself.

“don’t be quiet, babe,” he says, and your eyes snap open to be brought back to reality.

“wh—uuht?” you drawl, mind hazy and foggy from just the little bit of pleasure he was providing. but as your mouth is open, he speeds his fingers up, forcing you to practically yell out, “satoru—wait!”

“i wanna hear you,” gojo taunts, his voice light and happy, not at all giving the impression he was playing with your cunt.

he does not wait, or slow down, he only continues to quicken the pace of which his fingers circle your clit. he feels accomplished when you finally begin to let out little moans and suck in air through your teeth, knowing the feeling of his finger pads was becoming all too much. this was the type of thing he lived for—making cute, inexperienced girls (you) lose their mind from pleasure.

it’s the type of pleasure that you weren’t able to achieve yourself; it made the bottoms of your feet tingle, and your legs move on their own—and the familiar feeling of an orgasm was quickly building up. the knot in your lower abdomen grows tighter and more intense, making you whine and thrash below your roommate.

satoru’s other hand comes down to prod his index finger at your tight hole, an unfamiliar feeling to you—especially as it’s being done by someone else. he pushes his finger in, causing another yelp to come from the back of your throat—but it doesn’t hurt. gently fucking you with just the tip of his finger, satoru’s hand focused on your clit speeds up more.

“mm—satoru, think i’m close,” your words are rushed as you warn him, but his movements don’t falter in the slightest.

“yeah? gonna cum on my fingers?” he teases, “gonna cream all my hand?”—and if you weren’t already so close, you would’ve kicked him out at the taunting. instead, you throw your arms over your face and try your best to hold back the feeling—wanting it to last as long as possible. he slowly pushes his finger in more and more, gradually coming to fuck you with one thin, long finger. the first bit he’s fully inside, it’s uncomfortable, but the pressure fades the more he plays with you. the bubble of your orgasm grows and grows until you’re about to topple over the edge.

“i’m gonna cum,” the words come out your mouth in a long, sultry string— satoru’s never heard anyone sound so good while telling him that.

“yeah, that’s it—come on, baby,” satoru encourages you, his voice having dropped multiple octaves to sound a million times more sexy — far from the satoru you’d come to know. his words force the orgasm to crash over you, your body continually jolting and stuttering—beginning to fight satoru because he doesn’t stop.

“i—i finished—stop, satoru—ohmygod—,” you stutter out, and satoru presses his elbows against your thigh, rendering you immobile.

“you’re so sensitive, princess,” satoru teases again, and you catch his eyes in a downright primal stare,

“gonna make you cum on my fingers again, baby.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 39: Life

Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,343 words

Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort

A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him. 

His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever. 

They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all. 

If anything happens to you, it is his fault. 

Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.” 

Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired. 

All of their scents have been off lately. 

It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light. 

You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright. 

You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure. 

How little they really understand you. 

The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you. 

He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision? 

He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now? 

This isn’t war. It’s you. 

He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well. 

You look near death. 

“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”  

“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying. 

He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close? 

“Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.

Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you? 

“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.” 

Before they lose you. 

She won’t say it out loud. 

She doesn’t need to. 

Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying. 

He has to try. For you. 

“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up. 

Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.” 

“I’ll try not to.” He says. 

She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once. 

He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side. 

No, Christine said it was better to touch you. 

Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read. 

Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night. 

It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.

The storm he blew into their pack. 

He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him. 

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.” 

John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry. 

“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”

“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-” 

“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She want’s actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.” 

John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try? 

“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head. 

“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.” 

Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.” 

“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.” 

“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.” 

“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.” 

Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.” 

“That delay might have saved us.” 

“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.” 

“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.” 

“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now. 

“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself. 

“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.” 

“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.” 

“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had. 

“She will.” John says. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.” 

“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says. 

“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.” 

The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.” 

It smells good. 

There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now. 

Oranges. Spices. Warmth. 

You know that scent. 

It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth. 

Someone is baking a pie.

It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.

Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck. 

The weight around you moves. 

No, it’s not pie. 

It’s Johnny. 

That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater. 

You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday. 

You shouldn’t be crying. 

Not out of relief. 

Oh how you missed this. 

Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness? 

You should be upset. 

You can’t be. 

Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain. 

“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later. 

“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat. 

“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair. 

How you missed this. 

How you need this. 

You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl. 

You even walked to the table without the crutch. 

Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him. 

Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth. 

The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.  

John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning. 

You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.  

He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that. 

The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you. 

“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it. 

“Can I have some tea?” You ask. 

“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.

“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle. 

You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine. 

He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already. 

He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it. 

Perhaps him doing this was a mistake. 

He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea? 

What a sad excuse of a human being he is. 

You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger. 

This was a mistake. 

He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. 

He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know. 

He made a mistake in doing that. 

Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that. 

Maybe that’s how they get closer to you. 

The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more. 

John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him. 

That’s alright. He has other things he can do. 

He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea. 

They’re fighting. 

You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight. 

Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view. 

John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance. 

“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon. 

“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs. 

“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference. 

And the fact you’re an omega. 

“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.” 

“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say. 

She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.” 

You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often. 

You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself. 

“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now. 

How far you’ve fallen from your running days. 

“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.” 

“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more. 

The thought makes you wince. 

You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you. 

That’s an idea for a different day, though. 

It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain. 

Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks. 

Dr. Keller has a crush. 

It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too. 

It makes you almost miss Kyle. 

They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest. 

It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said. 

How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance. 

It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do. 

Good. You think. They deserve it. 

“You do get stuck in your head, huh?” 

Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times. 

Simon would hate it still. 

“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet. 

Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together. 

They’d be perfect for each other. 

“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about. 

“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her. 

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.” 

“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says. 

“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh. 

“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you. 

“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.” 

“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.” 

You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.

The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life. 

Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over. 

You need Kyle. 

Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him. 

You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him. 

You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here. 

You take a couple deep breaths before you scream. 

Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above. 

The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need. 

Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you sit there, trembling in fear. 

“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.” 

You wish it was. 

“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips. 

“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer. 

“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room. 

“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight. 

Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream. 

It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.

You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes. 

There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security. 

You flinch as the overhead light is turned off, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real. 

It’s real. 

Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed. 

“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you. 

Kyle. 

You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere. 

You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him. 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers. 

His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine. 

What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?

“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. 

You want to believe him. You really do. 

You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then. 

Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did. 

You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin. 

He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away. 

A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip. 

“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby. 

It’s his job. 

The job. 

The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.

Maybe having him down here was a mistake. 

But the shadows...

You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason. 

You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now. 

“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips. 

“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it. 

You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.

You try not to think about it too much. 

It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other. 

They’ve been struggling. 

They’re struggling because you’re struggling. 

The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it. 

What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been? 

“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence. 

Of course he’d start with that. 

You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.” 

He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.” 

You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment. 

Part of you wishes they wouldn’t. 

Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall. 

They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with. 

Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first. 

The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.

That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said. 

They’re not. 

We all make mistakes. 

They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are. 

You probably know more than them. 

You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book. 

Simon read that book too. 

Yet he did nothing. 

“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations. 

You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination. 

Why did you want him and not Johnny? 

Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for. 

So why did you ask for Kyle?

You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again. 

Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.” 

That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room. 

His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly. 

You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely. 

A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different. 

When things are better. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.” 

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[kbwrites]

Breaking up is hard to do!

synopsis: breaking up with the jjk men.

⚝characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami

⚝content: heavy angst, gaslighting(Gojo's), depression (Suguru's), mutual breakup(Nanami's)

⚝wc: 3.5k

Satoru Gojo

“Yeah so then Yuji popped out of the crate and surprised them all! You should’ve seen it baby!” Satoru wheezes holding his stomach as he recalls the event from the day.

No matter how hard you try though, you can only muster a small smile.

It had become really hard to do much else recently. With the weight of the hundreds of tasks at work taking its toll. Satoru looks over at you, waiting for a laugh—but it doesn’t come.

“Hellooo? Everything alright princess?” He questions giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Mhmm!” You nod.

He looks at you for another moment, unreadable expression on his face. Satoru shifts, clearly expecting more from you. “You sure? You’ve been quiet tonight. That’s not like you,” he says, his voice still light, but there’s a hint of curiosity now.

You try to hold back the frustration, but it bubbles up anyway. “I’m just tired, Satoru.”

“Tired? Seriously?” he mutters, pulling his hand away. “You work, what, a nine-to-five? You act like you’re running yourself into the ground.”

You blink, taken aback by his dismissive tone. “Satoru, it’s not just about the hours. It’s everything piling up, and—”

“Piling up?” He cuts you off with a scoff, already reaching for his phone. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner? You know I could’ve hired someone to handle that for you. I’ve got the money. You shouldn’t be stressing over... whatever this is.”

The words sting. You knew his mind would go there. It always does—like money could just make the exhaustion disappear, like hiring someone to take care of the smaller details would magically solve everything.

“It’s not about the money, Satoru.” you snap, trying to hold onto your patience. “I don’t need someone else doing my job for me. I just... I need you to listen.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Listen? What do you expect me to say? You’re tired. I get it. But don’t act like you’re drowning when I could have fixed this a long time ago. Hell, I could’ve bought you time off or flown you somewhere. You're sittin' here sulking like I can’t take care of things.”

You clench your fists, the exhaustion now compounded by frustration. “It’s not about you fixing things, Satoru. Sometimes I just need support—not your money.”

He stares at you, eyes narrowing. “Right. So you want to feel miserable instead of letting me help. That’s real smart, princess.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you shove clothes into your bag, the sound of zippers and drawers slamming echoing through the room. You can feel Satoru’s presence behind you, hovering, but you don’t stop. You can’t. Not after that.

“C'mon, princess.” he says, his voice exasperated, like he’s the one who's supposed to be annoyed. “What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?”

You don’t answer, your hands moving faster, yanking more clothes off hangers, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. You’re so angry you can barely breathe.

“I’ll book us a trip,” Satoru tries again, a hint of desperation creeping into his usually arrogant tone. “How about Paris? We’ll stay at that five-star hotel you like, the one with the private balcony. You love that place.”

Your jaw clenches. “This isn’t about a vacation, Satoru,” you snap, stuffing the last of your things into the bag. “It’s not about your money or your fancy hotels.”

“Then what is it about?” he shoots back, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re acting like I haven’t given you everything. "What more do you want?"

You freeze, bag halfway zipped, your body trembling as you turn to face him. His icy blue eyes are wide, confused, and maybe even a little hurt, but you’re beyond caring. “I want you to see me!” you shout, the words tearing out of you, louder than you intended. “I don’t need you to throw money at the problem! I need you to actually understand what I’m going through!”

Satoru stares at you, speechless for once. His mouth opens, but no words come out. He looks almost... shocked, like he can’t comprehend that his money, his status, can’t fix this. That he can’t fix this.

“Do you even care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, but no less angry. “Do you care about how I feel? Or is it just easier for you to throw cash at me until I stop complaining?”

He’s silent, his gaze hardening as he crosses his arms. “I’m trying to help. What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to listen!” You throw your hands up in frustration, feeling more alone than ever. “I don’t want your money. I don’t want trips or fancy dinners. I want you to care about me, Satoru. Not just the idea of me.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he says nothing. The silence is louder than any of his words.

As your hand grips the doorknob, ready to leave, Satoru’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and bitter.

“Right, run off to Shoko’s.” he scoffs, his arms crossed defensively. “You always do this, don’t you? The moment things get tough, you bolt. Guess it’s easier to complain to her than actually deal with me.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, stopping you in your tracks. You turn slowly to face him, disbelief clouding your vision. He’s standing there, arms folded, arrogance in his posture.

“I always do this?” you repeat, your voice trembling with anger. “I’ve stayed through everything, Satoru!"

“You’re just like Suguru.” Satoru spits out, the words dripping with bitterness and desperation.

Your hand freezes on the handle. You weren’t expecting that. Slowly, you turn to look at him, and the mask of arrogance has cracked. His eyes are wild, wide with something close to panic. “Running away the moment things get hard,” he continues, his voice shaking slightly. “Is that it? Just gonna leave like he did?”

Your heart skips a beat, anger fading for a moment as something else stirs inside you. You’ve seen Satoru angry before, frustrated, even cold—but this? This is different.

“That’s not fair.” you say quietly, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “I’m not leaving because things are hard. I’m leaving because you’re not listening.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a hard line. Then he snaps, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade, sharp and cold. “Well, fine. Go. I survived him abandoning me, I’ll survive you too.”

His words sting, burning through the air with a finality that makes your breath hitch. It’s a challenge, a defense—his way of masking the fear that’s clawing at him from the inside out. He’s pushing you away before you can leave, just like he’s done with everything else that’s threatened to crack his carefully controlled world.

You stand there, frozen for a moment, staring at him as his walls rise higher, shutting you out. This is what it’s come to. He’s too scared to let you in, too scared to admit that you leaving isn’t something he can just survive—that it’s something that terrifies him.

But he won’t say it. He won’t ask you to stay.

And that’s when you know.

Suguru Geto

You rest under the comfort of your blanket. How many days have you been in this bed? Three days? Four? 

The world was just too much right now, and your room was the only security available. It had been a week since Suguru vanished without a word, leaving behind nothing but unanswered questions and broken trust. Principal Yaga’s words still echoed in your mind—a whole village slaughtered, his parents among the dead. 

And not even a text.

You weren’t sure if he was even alive, maybe it would be better if he wasn’t. At least then you wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that the love of your life was now a wanted killer.

You took another tissue from the box, blowing into it and tossing the crumpled mess into the garbage can.

Satoru hadn’t responded either, was he okay? Did he know?

Your mind screamed for silence, for the thoughts to stop, but they kept coming, relentless.

“Angel?”

That voice… no it couldn’t be. You lower the covers from your face.

It was

“Hi baby...” his normally soothing voice does little to alleviate the ache in your chest.

“You…” your voice barely a whisper, threatening to break. “I thought you were dead.”

He moves closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, and you finally take him in. Despite everything, despite the horrors you’ve been told, he looks… normal.

How could he look so much like the Suguru you knew, the Suguru you loved, when everything inside of you was shattered?

Was this the same man who held you close? Whispered sweet nothings in your ear—promised to protect you with his life? 

“It’s me, (Y/N).”  he says softly, his voice cutting through the silence as if he had read your thoughts.

The tenderness in his tone feels like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he say that—so casually, so easily? Like everything was normal, like your world hadn’t come crashing down around you. You blink, trying to force the tears back, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Are you?” your voice is small, barely more than a whisper. Doubt lingers in every syllable.

He doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, his gaze softens, and without a word, he pulls the covers off of you. The cold air rushes over your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you had buried yourself in, and for a moment you flinch, instinctively clutching the blanket before you let it slip from your fingers.

His eyes trace over your fragile form, and there’s something in them—a flicker of sympathy, regret, even—but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the reason for your downward spiral. He knows it too. The weight of it presses on him, though he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he moves with a gentleness you hadn’t expected, sliding his arms under you and lifting you up as if you weighed nothing.

You want to protest, want to ask what he thinks he’s doing, but you’re too tired, too drained to fight. So you let him carry you. His arms are steady, and despite everything, you can’t help but melt in his embrace.

He takes you into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space as he sets you down gently. You can feel the cool tile under your feet as he kneels in front of the tub, turning the faucet on and testing the temperature.

You had so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, ask him why. But you couldn’t.

He dips his hand under the stream, adjusting the temperature until it’s just right. His movements are deliberate, methodical, as if this is the only way he knows how to show you any kind of care right now.

You stand there, numb and silent, watching him. The man who destroyed your world, now kneeling before you, acting as though he can piece it back together with something as simple as a bath. It feels absurd, almost cruel, but at the same time, you don’t have the strength to stop him.

Suguru rises to his feet, his presence towering yet calm as he began to undress you. Gentle hands pulling his t-shirt off of you, the one you had been clinging onto for days.

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he lifts the shirt over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

He had seen you in this state before, many times. But this….this was different.

Suguru guides you to the shower, washing your body with a gentleness you missed so deeply.

You close your eyes, letting him take care of you, even though you don’t understand why or how he can. The silence between you grows heavier with every passing second, filled with words unspoken and emotions too tangled to sort out.

Finally, you speak, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “Why are you here, Suguru?”

His hand pauses for a moment, the washcloth resting against your skin. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but when he answers, his voice is low, steady, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you.

“Because I….I love you” His voice almost too quiet, as if he’s afraid to say the words out loud.

“Then why, Suguru?” your voice trembles, almost breaking under the weight of your next words. “Is it true? You killed those people?”

The washcloth falls from his hand, splashing into the water as the silence between you deepens. He doesn’t speak right away, and the hesitation in his silence is an answer in itself.

You swallow hard, the air thick with the weight of the truth you already know but can’t bear to accept.

“They were… in the way,” he finally admits, his voice low, almost hollow.

You step out of the shower, the warm water sliding off your skin in slow rivulets. Without thinking, you reach for the towel, wrapping it tightly around yourself like armor.

This isn’t the man you loved, the one who spoke of protecting the weak, of valuing life. Yet, there’s something so heartbreakingly familiar in the way he says it—like a twisted version of the Suguru you knew, now wrapped in darkness.

“But those were people, Suguru,” you say, your voice fragile, as if you’re trying to reach the man you once knew beneath the monster he’s become. “Innocent people. How could you…?”

He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you, his hand brushing against your skin, cold and distant. “Because this world is broken.” he murmurs. “And I need to fix it. I had to do it. Can’t you see that? We—sorcerers—we’re meant for something greater. And they… they were holding us back.”

You shake your head, tears brimming in your eyes. “I don’t understand, Suguru. I don’t understand any of this.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your face gently, as though trying to reassure you with his touch. "Come with me." he whispers, his voice softer now, pleading. “Run away with me. Together, we can build something new. You don’t have to be a part of this broken world anymore. We can leave it all behind.”

Before you can respond, his lips press against yours, a kiss that’s both gentle and urgent, as though he’s trying to pour every unsaid word, every plea, into this one moment. It’s the Suguru you remember—the Suguru who once made you feel safe, loved.

But the reality of who he’s become crashes down on you.

You pull away, your hands pressed firmly against his chest, creating a wall between you. “No.” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I can’t.”

For a moment, Suguru just stands there, staring at you, his dark eyes searching yours for something—some kind of understanding, some sign that you’ll change your mind. His hand lingers on your cheek, his touch softer now, almost hesitant, as though he’s trying to hold on to whatever connection is left.

But then, slowly, he withdraws, his hand falling back to his side. He straightens up, his expression hardening as he steps away from you, giving you the space you so desperately need. The softness in his eyes fades, replaced by the cold determination you’ve seen before.

“You’ll see,” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a sharp edge to it now. “One day, you’ll understand. When you see what I’ve seen, when you finally understand the truth about this world—you’ll come around. I know you will.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and without another glance, he turns and walks toward the door, leaving you standing alone, trembling in the silence.

Nanami Kento

Kento was an honest man. There was nothing he ever kept from you. Other people might view him as a hard shell, but you could read him like a book.

So when he came to bed that night, holding you just a little tighter than usual—you knew something was up.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, his grip tightening instinctively as if he feared you might slip away.

“Kento?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. 

“I’ve decided to talk to Gojo tomorrow.” he said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of resolve. “I want to return to being a sorcerer.”

The words hung in the air, sinking into you like lead. You stiffened, a sharp sting blooming in your chest as you processed his decision.

“Are you seriously considering this?” Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You know what that life entails. You’ve seen the consequences. Are you really willing to go back to that danger?”

Kento’s silence was heavier than any response he could have given. His arms, though still holding you close, seemed distant now, as if they were reaching out from across a chasm of uncertainty.

“I’ve thought it through,” he said finally, though his tone lacked the conviction he tried to project. “I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep pretending I’m satisfied with where I am.”

The last words echoed in your ears their weight sinking deep into your heart. “So you’re not satisfied with me?” you whispered, barely able to speak past the knot forming in your throat.

Kento’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what is it, Kento?” you demanded, frustration and hurt sharpening your words. “We have something good here. You have a good job. You left Jujustu High for a reason! What about Haibara—”

At the mention of Haibara, Kento’s face hardened. His eyes, which had been searching for the right words, now burned with anger and frustration. “Don’t.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. He sighs, trying to catch himself. “This…isn’t about him, or his fate. It’s about my own path, my own choices. You think I’m risking everything without knowing the cost?”

 “And what do you expect me to do, Kento?” Your voice cracked, raw emotion rising as you slid out of bed, unable to lie still any longer. “Sit at home and worry about you? Not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece? I can’t live like that! I can’t live every day with the fear that you might not come back, that you might be hurt or worse?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. You paced the room, your emotions boiling over, while Kento sat still, his gaze following you but offering no solace.

“You’re asking me to accept a life where every day is a gamble with your safety!” You stopped, turning to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. “How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to pretend everything’s okay when the reality is that you might not come back to me? This isn’t just about you, Kento. It’s about us, our future!”

Kento ran a hand through his blond locks, frustration etched into every line of his face. “I’m not asking you to pretend it’s okay. I’m asking you to understand that this is something I need to do for myself, even if it means risking everything.”

You blinked, tears blurring your vision as his words sank in. “And what if everything we have is the cost?”

The question lingered, echoing in the space between you. Kento rose from the bed, standing tall before you, but the weight of the moment seemed to bow his shoulders.

He stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His eyes, filled with a deep sadness, searched yours, looking for understanding that he knew might never come. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to know that.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “But that isn’t enough… is it? It never will be…”

There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of your words pressing down on both of you.

“I… can’t watch you throw your life away, Kento.”

He took a deep breath, the sound heavy with resignation. "Then… we’ve both made our decision."

His hands, which had held you with such tenderness, felt distant as you pulled away. You took a step back, a sob catching in your throat.

He opens his mouth, but no words come out with a trembling breath, he stepped forward and gently pulled you into his arms. The embrace was tender, filled with the weight of finality.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent one last time as if trying to imprint it into his memory. The warmth of his body, once a comfort, now felt like a dagger in your chest.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice strained. The words were barely audible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air.

Kento lingered for a moment, his hand sliding from your back to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed away the tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, and his expression softened with a promise you weren’t sure either of you could believe.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered, his voice strained but resolute. “Somehow… I’ll find my way back to you. One day.”

You clung to him for a moment longer, feeling the ache of goodbye in every fiber of your being, before he slowly pulled away. Leaving you.

[sparklingchim]

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

~

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙩3 ♡︎

characters: sub!dragons x dom!gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, dragons have vent that hide their two cocks anatomy, eating out, fingering, handjob, squirting, light mind break, exhibitionism, biting, blood/injury mention

notes: part 1, part 2 is here respectively. genuinely didn’t think this idea would be liked so much it would have two more parts lmao. wasn’t really thinking of writing part 3 since i was all outta thoughts but here we are. dividers from benkeibear

it had been a while since the relationship between you and your beloved dragon had become official. of course, there were bumps along the way and you two still wished to keep your relationship a secret. who knows whatever the hell the court of elders would say or how people would react to you once they find out that it was you who was chosen by the dragon himself specifically to be his mate and not some higher ranking diplomat or a royalty. mainly, it was to keep you safe.

the dragon could give less than two fucks about his title or fame. title be damned, he could care less of society’s judging eyes and open ears on him. he could care less about how the courtiers would argue against his decision. all he cared about was you and he wanted to keep you safe and away from harm. the courtiers included. most specifically the courtiers; he dealt with their shit for long enough on a daily basis, he didn’t wanted them to find out about his most favored treasure and meddle with his personal life.

but mostly, it gets annoying when he wanted to keep his beloved by his side yet his beloved is away on a business trip. a very long one. it has been what? over a month and a week and the poor dragon was desperate to have you by his side again. every moment he catches himself recalling of past moments with you, he finds his tail swishing side to side, a low pleased purr in his throat. or he would recall of moments of comedy; such as when you tripped and fell down the stairs in front of him at your first meeting, how you stuff your face full of your favorite treats like a chipmunk, or when you accidentally drank a cup of hot tea, mistaking it for a cold one and burning your tongue. the dragon finds himself chuckling at that, snorting, turning to his side as he calls out your name to recall said events out loud. only for his wagging tail to droop and a sad whine escape him when he remembered, right; you were away on a business trip and hasn’t returned yet.

his mood was noticed of course. it’s easy to be noticed when all eyes have always been on you since the very beginning of your life. the courtiers asked him of what has been weighing on his mind lately, the soldiers that guard his grand office bowing in respect as their eyes look over him with concern, how the people have already started a rumor amongst themselves.

“the great dragon found a mate they said”, “the great dragon perhaps lost a loved one recently”, “the great dragon’s mood downing reason is his nature. he is a dragon after all, he would surely miss his kin” great dragon this, great dragon that — all he wanted was you. finding himself stuck in the middle, he could barely find the time to even focus on his work. words on the paper in front of him meddled and meshed together into a white and black mess. he could read the words but it wouldn’t register in his brain. instead, what occupied his mind and heart was you with your bright smile that was like the warmth of a sunlight on his skin after a millennia of snowstorm. letting out a sigh for the nth time this past hour, he turns to look at the calendar hung on the wall of his office. a bright red marker circling the 23rd of the next month, making his tail droop as a defeated whine escapes his lips. how could he ever wait patiently for your return?

walking through the long corridors of the grand building where the dragon stays seated for work, you whistle a few tunes as you pass by some of the workers or nod your head in greeting when a guard walks by. the workers of this place knows you by now; or at least have memorized your features. you were a common visitor to the dragon, either called by him or coming by your own accord to tend to some matters. whether it be your lazy work ethnics or the large contracts you’ve struck — no one really knows. no one is yet to suspect that you two are in a relationship. not yet.

knocking on the grand oak doors with dragon symbols carved onto the outside, you push the door open as you saunter inside. the moment the door closes behind you with a soft click! you were nearly tackled over onto the floor as a scaled limb tightly wraps around your thigh. wet kisses trail from your neck down to your collarbone, the tail on your thigh squeezing harshly enough to the point it nearly cuts off your blood flow. laughing, you return the death squeeze, running a hand through his hair as you kiss the base of his horn that had materialized.

“i’ve missed you too, my love” you manage to breathe out, voice nearly a gasp with the way he was about to topple you over with his bigger frame. you could see the shine of his scales on his jaw and chin, the hardened skin having grown vastly in number due to the sudden shift in his mood. and if the room were any but darker, you were sure that his eyes and horns were pulsing a soft glow. just like the thrumming of his heartbeat you could feel over the material of his clothes.

before you could tell him to get off and allow you to breathe, his lips met yours in a manner that was as if he was trying to smash his skull with yours, merging the bones together. he must have been lonely, hands cupping your cheeks tenderly while he desperately kissed your lips over and over as if trying to merge your bodies together. his usually cold veneer be damned, he had missed your scent, your lips, the warmth of your body — you.

the great dragon had missed his beloved mate.

forked tongue licking at your lips, he impatiently pushes the wet muscle inside your mouth. licking at the cavern, messily slurping on your tongue and dismissing your choked noises, your dragon pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, preening his scales with a low whimper. pulling his tongue out, seeing the saliva connecting you together, he lets out a drawn out whine, grinding his crotch against your own.

“missed you… missed your scent and everything… so bad” he mumbles, a low rumble in his chest as he drags you towards his desk by the tail that was hooked around your thigh. you let out a grunt, almost loosing balance but following along. sharpened claws fumble with his belt and pants, eager yet impatient as he leaves a few tears and holes into the material. disregarding his clothes half heartedly, he lays down on the desk, claws grasping at the edge of the wood as he props his legs up, showing you the weeping slit of his vent. he was already so wet and aroused, acting like he was in heat as his tail tugs you closer to himself.

“look at you, my love. we just shared a hug and a kiss and you’re already dripping wet” you tease him, fingers spreading his vent open as usual. like an excited puppy seeking for validation, his two cocks slip out, reaching for your hand.

“mhm. all wet and eager for you, mate♡︎” he nods enthusiastically, claws leaving the desk to spread his cent open further for you to stare at. just seeing him like this, in a compromising manner with slitted pupils blown wide; it was enough to make your mouth salivate. the fuzzy end of his tail tap against your calf, already telling you to hurry up and bury your face into his vent, take his cock into your mouth, any cock, anything — he doesn’t mind it. the poor pent up dragon just wanted your touch, craving for the high that you deliver so expertly, knowing his body better than he does.

“my my, thank you for the meal” you coo, patting the inside of his thigh gently. hooking the beck of your leg into his chair behind you, you pull it close to yourself before plopping down. the soft cushions felt like clouds to your tired body that was cramped into the workers’ ship, inviting you to sit on it and eat out its owner to your heart’s content.

placing tentative kisses to the small bundle like clit on top of his vent, you flatten your tongue, licking a stripe up the soft scales of his vent and the base of his cocks. just a token of affection and he was already squirming in his place, bucking his hips into your mouth. but he needs yo learn patience when it came to you, something you showed with small little licks to the side of his vent, collecting his juices into your tongue and tasting them. he lets out a punched out whine at that, spreading himself open more to try and entice you. he smelled like a freshly brewed maple syrup, tasted like the nectar of the forbidden fruits on your tongue, sounded like your favorite song in loop.

“hurry it uppp—! aaah♡︎ j-just like that... deep♡︎ deeper♡︎ wan’ your tongue deeper inside my vent♡︎!!” a surprised squeal comes from him, legs jerking in place as if wanting to wrap around your head. reaching a hand out, you push two fingers inside his mouth, muffling his noises and making him choke on the digits. the poor thing tries to make a noise of protest, only succeeding in a meager choked moan.

pushing apart his vent open further with your fingers, you push your tongue inside as far as it could reach. not deep inside to reach that soft spot inside his vent, but certainly deep enough to make him gasp around your fingers. you can feel his forked tongue come up, the long limb slithering around your fingers and between them to try and wet them. his attempts sometimes ended up futile, making the dragon choke on the accumulated saliva on his tongue and your fingers. sometimes, he would get a little too excited, his thighs warming your cheeks and ear until you slap them open again.

he tasted delicious, like a fruit mix syrup that was left in the perfect condition for you to feast on. a nectar of both sin and sweetness, coupled with his cute noises that ask you for more like the greedy dragon he was. dragons were naturally possessive, it didn’t surprise you that your sweetheart pulled you in for a quick fuck inside his own office in broad daylight. flattening your tongue, you ease the muscle in and out smoothly on the soft scaled base of his cock inside his hole. slimy liquid drip down your chin, forcing you to slurp some while the ones you couldn’t taste dirty your jaws and the floor.

“ummgh! s-sho guwd… deeper♡︎ wan’ iwt deeepeeerrr♥︎♥︎” he chokes out around your fingers, rocking his hips back and forth to make your tongue thrust inside his vent more forcefully. your poor pent up dragon, so needy to the point he was fucking his dripping folds into your mouth. taking one of his hands that tried to hold his vent open for you, you guide one of his fingers to rest over the small bundle on top of his slit, making him rub the muscle slowly. it acted like a clit, a tiny muscle that came out when he was aroused, sensitive to the touch.

after a few messy flicks to the clit like muscle, without even having you properly touch his angry red cocks, he was spurting cum into his shirt. it will be a mess to wash them out later but right now, all you focused on was the cute flush of his face and the way his pupils dilated into hearts when his eyes met yours. making a show of his debauchery, the dragon pushes your fingers out just enough to make you watch how he drooled around them, long tongue slithering between the two digits. the hand that was over the small clit like muscles stroked his bigger cock a few times, letting the last few drops of his cum spurt into his chest. just like how you guided his hand earlier, he did the same to yours. letting your wet fingers scoop up the mess on his skin and shirt before wiping them clean with his tongue, suckling on the tips of your fingers as if he was suckling on your cock. were your eyes deceiving you or were the corners of his lips turned up into a smug grin?

taking your fingers out of his mouth, making the dragon whine at the loss, you push your saliva coated fingers into his hole. all the earlier smugness of his face disappears in an instant, throwing his head back with a loud wail as his vent clenches around your tongue. claws that were scratching at the wood of his desk weakly paws at your head, fingers fisting at your scalp as he couldn’t decide between fucking into your tongue deep into his vent or the fingers now scissoring his hole open.

“angh—! ah ah guhhn♡︎♡︎ [n-name]! mmng eengh—♥︎ aah... so gooddd♡︎ m-missed you, missed this—♥︎!” the dragon weakly bucks his hips, wiggling in place unable to decide what to do. all he could do was paw at your head or at his shaking legs that were propped up on the desk, mind melting away into a soft mush. there were nothing in his mind, filled with cotton as he could only hyperfixate on the feeling of your fingers and tongue fucking him open like he was a cheap whore in a brothel and not the great dragon inside his own office.

“ummgh!! umgck— kuhng♥︎♥︎!” a sharp wail of his gets muffled as your place your free hand over his mouth, forcing him to stay quiet. in his own greed for pleasure that your provided, he had forgotten where you two were. not like he could care less. he was disgustingly possessive and his tail refused to budge from its place that was snugly wrapped around your middle. the fluffy end consistently patting against your thigh whenever your fingers pushed deeper, curling up to hit his prostate.

it was dizzying; the pleasure, your tongue squeezing into his vent, the way you roughly fucked into his prostate with your fingers as you force him to muffle his noises. if only he could moan and shriek to his heart’s content and not force himself to shut up.

slipping your fingers out of his hole with a lewd shlick! your hand pumps his smaller cock at an agonizingly fast pace. his smaller cock was more sensitive, another new discovery you used to your heart’s content as his legs thrash around, the dragon’s tail squeezing around your middle painfully. bot that you cared, you were just trying to get him to cum again quicker. if you were correct in your assessment, in half an hour, he had a meeting.

unable to help himself, the dragon bites down on your hand, making you grimace as the sharp fangs in his maw pierce through your skin. he could taste your blood as it trickles into his mouth, making him whine in concern for hurting you before his legs jerk violently, wrapping around your head tightly. back arching on the desk so beautifully, screaming into your hand, his smaller cock spurts out more cum than the one before, his slick juices squirting onto the warmth of your tongue from his vent. slurping up as much as you could, you finally ease your tongue out as his cocks go soft in your hand. the small clit like muscles on top of his vent soften back inside as you push his legs open slowly. taking your hand away from his mouth, you couldn’t help the smug grin that crawls onto your face as you see your cute dragon.

pupils blown wide, covering the color of his irises, a small smear of blood on his lips with his cocks wearily slipping back inside his vent. once safely tucked back inside, the glistening folds of his scaled vent flutters, clenching around the phantom feeling of your tongue showed up inside it. pulling over a pack of wet wipes from one of his desk drawers, you place kisses to the pulsing scales on his chin as you wipe him clean to the best of your ability. satisfied with how he finally had you by his side, his tail weakly pats your leg, a pleased rumble of a purr in his throat as his claws hook into your shirt to yank you down onto the desk on top of him. as quickly as you fell, his arms were around you, keeping you caged in his grasp. huffing out an amused laugh, you decide to indulge in his wishes for cuddles.

only until the doors will be knocked of course.

[swficreference]

Introducing the Star Wars Reference Wiki!

Introducing the Star Wars Fic Reference Wiki, a wiki for fic writers by fic writers!

The Star Wars Fic Reference Wiki is intended as a way for fic writers and other fanwork creators to easily look up pertinent information without having to slog through dense paragraphs or comb through categories with dozens or even hundreds of entries with few indicators of what the pages are. Do you want lists? Do you want tables? Do you want easily digestible bullet points? We've got 'em!

We build pages from common questions we or other fic writers have, such as:

All these fics incorporate events from Jedi Apprentice, but what really happened to Obi-Wan Kenobi in Legends?

How do the stories in Revenge of the Sith and The Clone Wars mesh together?

Which characters are LGBTQIA+? Who are some LGBTQIA+ creators who have worked on a Star War? How about a timeline of LGBTQIA+ people and content?

BBY/ABY, BrS/GrS, BFE/AFE... what's the difference between these and all those other calendars? What calendar do characters use before the Battle of Yavin?

What are some idioms or kriffing swears this character could use to sound more Star Wars-y?

Does the GFFA have its own version of a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup?

What could be used as a pack animal in one of the many, many deserts?

Why does this fic call him "Yan" or "Glamnor" Dooku? Is her full name Padmé Amidala Naberrie or something else?

How many costumes does Padmé wear? What about other SW costumes?

What are some canonical design options for a Kiffar OC's facial tattoo?

Are these the droids you're looking for?

Are you constantly losing those handy tumblr posts compiling useful resources? We have a permanent page for that!

(Swears in light mode; LGBTQIA+ characters in dark mode)

We've only recently started building the wiki, and are creating new pages all the time! We'd love help or suggestions for new pages. Have you never edited a wiki before? No problem! We have a tutorial for that. Are you not super confident about your English? No worries! Other wiki editors are here to help! We have a Discord server for the wiki, and side channels for things like SW fic recs and general fan chat.

Thank you for initial brainstorming and showing us there was an interest in and audience for this wiki, from us (facingthenorthwind and immithrax) to you: @nimata-beroya, @cacodaemonia, @elismor, @genericficerblog, @seth-shitposts, @takadasaiko, and @virusq!

Many hands make great wikis, so please, come on over and join us, and check back to see what new things we have in store! If you find our pages useful, we'd also love if you could spread the word, so other people can make use of the resources we've worked hard to create.