#the whole last group deserves to go to worlds though

[eggplantgifs]

Kazuki Tomono: Halston » 2023 Japanese Nationals

[6mayhem]

but i would give anything for just one day spent in the life i had when i was 15. it may not have been perfect but i felt like i belonged somewhere. and i didn't worry so goddamn much about the big picture

[halfmoonaria]

this christmas, without us

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: you and tara are forced to play the roles of a happy couple at the christmas dinner.

word count: 6.8k

author’s note: merry christmas!!

Tara didn't want to be there. Not tonight, not with you.

She'd been dreading it since the day Sam announced the Christmas dinner. The idea of sitting in a room filled with people who thought they knew the two of you, pretending like everything was the same as it had always been, made her stomach churn.

It wasn't the same. It hadn't been the same in weeks—not since she'd looked you in the eyes and told you the words she couldn't take back.

Even now, the memory of your face in that moment was enough to make her chest ache, a sharp reminder of what she'd done. You hadn't cried, hadn't yelled.

You'd just gone quiet, retreating into a silence that had spoken louder than anything you could have said. She'd expected you to pull away completely after that, but you hadn't. You stayed. For her.

Which was exactly why she shouldn't have asked you to come.

But she had.

She'd waited too long to bring it up, hoping—praying, even—that she could find a way to avoid the whole thing altogether. A last-minute excuse. Anything to save you from the act you'd have to put on, the mask of someone still in love when the truth was hanging between you like a storm cloud. But the excuses didn't come, and when Sam asked if she was bringing you, Tara panicked.

"Yes," she'd said, and that was that.

The alternative wasn't any better. Showing up alone would've only raised questions, questions she couldn't answer. Questions Sam wouldn't let go. Tara could already hear her sister's voice in her head, dripping with fake sympathy, every word a jab meant to land right where it hurt.

"Guess she finally realized she isn't good enough for you."

The worst part was that everyone would believe it. Because no one could imagine it was the other way around. No one would believe that Tara was the one who wasn't enough—not for you, not for the kind of love you gave her.

They'd all look at you, with your easy laugh and unwavering kindness, and then at her, the girl who couldn't even hold onto the one person who had ever truly cared.

But Tara wouldn't let them blame you. She couldn't. You had been everything she needed, more than she deserved. That much was true, no matter how much she wished it didn't hurt to admit it.

She thought back to the night she'd asked you, still sitting uncomfortably in her chest. It had been late—late enough for most people to be asleep, but she knew you wouldn't be. You liked the quiet of the night, the way the world slowed down and felt like it belonged only to you.

She hadn't forgotten that, even if she told herself she'd forgotten everything else.

Her fingers had hovered over your name on her phone for what felt like forever, the screen casting a faint glow in the dark of her room.

Calling you was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't have a choice. Texting would've been too impersonal, and not asking at all would've meant facing the group alone.

When you'd picked up, your voice had been soft, like you already knew why she was calling but were too kind to make it hard for her.

She'd stammered through her words, trying to keep the conversation going long enough to delay the inevitable. A part of her hoped you'd hang up first, that she wouldn't have to say it. But then, dragging it out only made it weirder. No one called their ex just to chat, not after ending things the way she had.

So she'd asked. It had felt rude even as the words left her mouth—asking you to do this for her, after everything. It wasn't fair.

But you'd said yes.

No hesitation, no bitterness. You didn't even sound mad. If anything, you'd sounded... calm. Maybe even relieved, though Tara didn't understand why. She'd thanked you quietly, trying not to choke on the lump in her throat as she ended the call.

If she'd dreaded the Christmas dinner before, it was nothing compared to now.

Tara sat on the edge of her bed, her room a chaotic mess of discarded outfits strewn across the floor. She'd started with something casual, but it felt too careless. Then something dressier, but that felt like trying too hard. Nothing seemed right.

Was she trying to impress you? The thought made her stomach twist, and she shook her head, trying to push it away. No, it wasn't that. Or maybe it was. Was she trying to look like she was doing fine? Like she wasn't crumbling inside every time you so much as glanced at her?

She caught herself wondering if you were supposed to match. The idea was stupid, ridiculous even—you'd never done that when you were together, so why would it matter now? And yet the thought lingered, a small, nagging question she couldn't ignore.

Tara sighed and stood, rummaging through the closet one last time before her fingers brushed something familiar. She pulled it out, the soft fabric bringing a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her.

It was one of your shirts. Dark green, fitted in a way that hugged her frame a little too tightly. You'd left it behind without a second thought, and she'd never returned it—never even offered to, though you hadn't asked for it back.

She hesitated, holding it up in front of her. It wasn't like she had many other choices; nothing else seemed to work. Maybe you wouldn't notice. Or maybe you would, and you just wouldn't say anything.

Pulling it over her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The shirt clung to her, accentuating her small frame. She frowned, brushing invisible creases off the fabric. It felt like a bad idea, but the clock was ticking, and she didn't have time to overthink it anymore.

With one final glance in the mirror, Tara grabbed her coat and headed out.

The drive to your apartment was supposed to be short, but Tara stretched it out, taking detours she didn't need to take. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she tried to calm the nerves twisting in her stomach. It didn't help.

She'd been the one to suggest picking you up. It made sense—if they thought you came together, no one would ask questions. And you'd agreed without hesitation, like you always did. That only made her feel worse.

You'd always been like that in the relationship, too. Agreeable. Too accommodating. Even when Tara didn't deserve it.

When she finally turned onto your street, she spotted you immediately. You were standing near the curb, hands buried deep in your coat pockets as snowflakes dusted your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and you shifted on your feet, trying to keep warm.

She felt a pang of guilt. Had she taken too long?

As she pulled up, she tried to focus on the road ahead, but her eyes kept flicking back to you. You looked so... pretty. Gorgeous, even. The kind of gorgeous that made her chest ache.

But she wasn't allowed to think that anymore.

You climbed into the car, bringing a rush of cold air and the familiar scent of your perfume. It hit her all at once—clean, warm, unmistakably you.

You smiled at her, soft and unassuming, like this wasn't tearing her apart inside. "Hi."

Tara forced herself to smile back. "Hi." Her voice sounded steadier than she expected, but her hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Did I keep you waiting?" she asked, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's not that cold."

Tara nodded, focusing on the road ahead. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. She glanced over at you more than she should've, her eyes darting between you and the road. It wasn't safe, but she couldn't help it.

She hadn't seen you since... that day. She didn't let herself think too much about it, but the absence had been loud, impossible to ignore. She wanted to see if you'd changed, if the time apart had shaped you into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But you hadn't, not really. Your makeup was the same, soft but striking, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. What caught her attention was your hair—curled, just like you always liked it. She couldn't forget that detail, not after how often you used to mention it.

Her chest tightened as she pulled into the driveway. The house was already lit up, warm lights spilling out through the windows. Tara shifted into park but didn't move to get out.

When you reached for the door handle, she found her voice. "Wait."

You paused, turning to look at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

Tara swallowed hard. "You don't have to do this. I mean, you don't have to do things you don't want to." Her voice wavered, betraying the guilt clawing at her insides. "I already feel bad enough for bringing you here."

You stared at her for a moment before your lips curved into another soft smile. "It's fine, Tara. Really."

There was something in your tone—something that felt like forgiveness, or maybe understanding. Whatever it was, it made her chest ache.

You opened the door and stepped out, and for a second, Tara just sat there, staring at the space you'd left behind. Then she followed, pulling her coat tighter around her as the cold air bit at her skin.

The crunch of snow beneath your boots filled the quiet, rhythmic and steady, but it only seemed to make Tara's heart race faster. Her breaths came in small, uneven clouds of white against the cold night air, and the house—Sam and Danny's house—felt simultaneously too close and too far.

Her hand flexed at her side, fingers twitching with the urge to grab onto something, anything, to steady herself. Instead, she settled for another glance at you as you walked beside her, bundled up tightly in your coat.

When you finally reached the porch, Tara stopped just short of the door, her eyes darting nervously to your hand before you raised it to knock. The sharp sound echoed, muffled slightly by the snow-covered world around you.

The footsteps from inside were quick and loud, growing nearer. Tara swore she could hear her own pulse in her ears, each beat screaming louder as the steps approached. And then, before she could even register what was happening, your hand slipped into hers.

The touch wasn't firm; it wasn't clingy or desperate. It was light—practiced in a way that made her chest twist painfully.

Of course, she told herself, it was just an act. You were just trying to make it look believable for everyone inside, the story you both had silently agreed to sell tonight. But as her fingers curled around yours in reflex, Tara couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to hold on longer than she should have.

It doesn't mean anything. The words echoed in her mind, a mantra she tried to cling to as tightly as she clung to the warmth of your hand.

The door swung open a moment later, and Chad's bright, too-loud voice broke through the tension like a hammer.

"Hey! There they are—the lovebirds!" He stepped into the doorway, his grin wide and genuine, his voice carrying enough energy to fill the whole porch. "We were starting to think you'd bailed on us."

Tara felt her throat tighten, her lips pressing into a small smile that she hoped looked convincing.

"Never," you said smoothly, the lightness in your voice so practiced that it almost made Tara's knees buckle. How were you doing this? Acting like it didn't tear you apart as much as it tore her apart?

Chad didn't wait for more of a greeting before pulling you both into one of his signature awkward hugs, his long arms wrapping around both you and Tara in a way that left Tara stiff and unprepared. "Good to see you two," he said as he let go, stepping back and ushering you inside with a sweeping gesture.

Behind him, Mindy and Anika appeared, both smiling warmly at the sight of you.

"About time," Mindy said with a teasing grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her eyes flicked between you and Tara, sparkling with mischief. "We were betting on how late you'd be. I said fifteen minutes. Anika said twenty."

"It's seventeen," Anika chimed in, nudging Mindy with her elbow. "So technically, we both win."

"Technically, we're both losers for betting on their arrival time," Mindy shot back, though her voice was light and playful. She gestured for you both to come inside, her grin only widening.

As soon as you stepped over the threshold, the warmth of the house hit Tara like a wave—cozy and overwhelming all at once. She hesitated for a moment, letting you move ahead to slip off your coat. When you let go of her hand to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, the cold absence of your touch hit her harder than it should have.

The living room was just as she remembered, glowing softly with Christmas lights that lined the walls and a tree in the corner. The scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy coming from the kitchen. It was homey, inviting—and everything Tara didn't want to face tonight.

"Finally!" Sam's voice rang out from the hallway, and Tara tensed instinctively, her head snapping toward her sister. Sam's sharp eyes scanned the both of you, her expression hovering somewhere between teasing and judgmental. "What'd you do, get lost on the way here?"

Danny appeared at Sam's side, his easygoing smile balancing out her sarcasm. "Better late than never," he added with a chuckle, offering you a nod in greeting.

Tara risked a glance at you, but your expression was unreadable—calm and steady, like a mask she couldn't see past. She hated it. She hated how distant you felt even when you were standing right there, hated how you could smile and joke when she felt like she could barely breathe.

"C'mon," Chad said suddenly, breaking the moment with a clap of his hands. "Food's getting cold, and I'm starving. Let's move this along."

The others began filing into the dining room, their chatter filling the space and making it seem smaller somehow. Tara lingered in the entryway for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.

She glanced at you one last time, her stomach twisting as she watched you follow the others inside. The way you moved—the way you held yourself—felt so painfully familiar and achingly distant all at once.

Tara exhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step forward. The night had only just begun.

The dining table was a mix of warmth and chatter, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and silverware scraping against plates. Laughter echoed from one side to the other as stories were exchanged, and it should have felt cozy, comforting even, but Tara could barely breathe. She sat beside you, stiff as a board, pretending to listen as the others talked, though most of her attention was on you.

You looked so composed, so poised, effortlessly keeping up with every question thrown your way.

"So," Chad started, leaning forward with a grin that was far too wide. "What's next for you guys? Got any big plans?"

Tara froze, her heart lurching. She parted her lips to speak, but you were faster, the practiced ease in your voice cutting through before she could even form a word.

"Yeah," you said, smiling as if it didn't weigh you down. "We've talked about traveling a lot. We both want to see more of the world."

Your voice carried such sincerity that Tara almost believed it. Almost. The smile you directed at her was soft, genuine, the same one you'd given her a hundred times before. It sent a pang through her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod along like nothing was wrong. But everything about this was wrong.

"That's amazing," Anika chimed in from across the table, her tone warm and encouraging. "You two would have so much fun. Where would you go first?"

"I think Europe," you replied easily, the answer rolling off your tongue like you'd rehearsed it. "Tara's always wanted to visit Italy, so maybe we'd start there."

Tara's stomach churned. Italy had been one of her dreams for years, but now it was just another casualty of the life you two had planned together—a life she'd ripped apart.

The guilt was unbearable.

But what shattered her completely was when, as everyone nodded and hummed in agreement, you placed your hand on her thigh.

Tara's breath hitched, the weight of your touch sending a jolt through her. Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure of what to do. But then instinct took over—old habits she couldn't quite let go of. She reached for your hand, placing hers over yours like she always used to.

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, the motion automatic and gentle. She glanced at you, mustering the smallest smile she could manage. It wasn't like the bright, radiant smiles she used to give you, but it was something.

And you returned it, your eyes meeting hers briefly before you turned your attention back to the others.

Tara wanted to crawl out of her skin.

When the conversation shifted and someone else started talking, her gaze remained fixed on you. She watched as the mask slipped from your face, just for a second, but long enough for her to see the cracks beneath it.

She saw the way your fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together and picking at the edges of your nails. She noticed how your plate remained mostly untouched, the food moved around but barely eaten. You barely spoke when the spotlight wasn't on you, your posture sinking into the chair as the conversation moved on without you.

And Tara knew.

She knew you didn't want to be here. She knew you didn't want to sit at this table and laugh along with everyone as though nothing had changed.

And worst of all, she knew why you were here—because she had asked.

The guilt burned hotter in her chest, clawing its way up her throat. She wanted to scream, to stand up and tell everyone what she had done. That she was the reason you were like this, the reason everything was falling apart. She wanted to tell them she'd broken up with you. That she'd hurt you in ways she didn't know how to fix.

But she didn't.

Because she was a coward.

Because she'd brought you here for selfish reasons—to avoid the questions, to keep up the facade for just a little while longer.

The conversation shifted as plates began to empty, and the atmosphere turned lighthearted, playful. Someone—probably Chad—brought up the future, and soon everyone was chiming in, laughing and teasing each other about who would hit the next major milestone first.

"So," Anika said, her tone mischievous as she leaned forward. "Who's gonna be the first to get married?"

Danny chuckled, placing his arm around Sam. "Probably us, right?" he said, glancing at her with a grin. "I mean..."

Sam rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smirk. "Don't start, Danny."

"And the first to have kids!" Mindy chimed in, winking. "Come on, you two are like parents already. It's only a matter of time."

Laughter rippled across the table as Sam shook her head, muttering something about how she wasn't even thirty yet. The conversation quickly turned to Chad, who became the next target of teasing.

"And Chad here," Mindy added, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "is definitely not in the running for any of this since he's still single."

"Hey!" Chad exclaimed, feigning offense. "I'm just waiting for the right person, okay? I'm picky."

"Oh, we know," Anika teased, and everyone laughed again.

Tara tried to keep up with the banter, forcing herself to smile and laugh along, but she couldn't relax. Not with you sitting beside her, radiating the kind of quiet composure that was both impressive and heartbreaking.

The teasing shifted again, this time focusing on marriage.

"What about you guys?" Chad suddenly asked, his gaze flicking to you and Tara.

Tara tensed, but you didn't miss a beat, smiling politely as you shrugged. "What about us?"

"Well, you guys are like... the couple," Chad said, gesturing between the two of you. "I mean, if anyone's gonna tie the knot soon, it's definitely you two."

Tara's heart dropped into her stomach, and her throat tightened painfully. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, but you didn't react, your expression as calm and effortless as ever.

She tried to speak, but her voice caught, and it wasn't until someone said your name that she realized they were still talking.

"Right?" Mindy added. "You two are like grossly in love all the time. It's a little nauseating, honestly."

"What?" Tara blurted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She quickly cleared her throat, forcing a weak smile as she tried to reel it back. "I mean... what?"

Her attempt at sounding casual wasn't entirely convincing, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh, come on," Mindy said with a grin, leaning back in her chair. "You guys look at each other like the rest of us don't even exist. It's adorable but also sickening. Like, give the rest of us a chance to shine, will you?"

Chad jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. "Seriously, you two are always all over each other. I'm honestly surprised you haven't eloped already."

"Or at least gotten matching tattoos," Anika added with a laugh.

Everyone was chiming in now, talking over each other, their voices blending into a blur of comments and laughter. Tara's ears rang, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Her gaze flicked to you again, and you smiled—actually smiled—like none of this was bothering you. Like you weren't sitting here pretending that everything was fine when, in reality, it was far from it.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to join in the laughter even though her chest felt like it was caving in. She clenched her hands under the table, nails digging into her palms as the guilt clawed its way back up her throat.

She wanted to scream. To tell them all to stop. To tell them the truth.

But she couldn't.

Because this was her fault. And she wasn't brave enough to face the fallout of her own mistakes.

The conversations blurred together as Tara sat at the table, her mind too preoccupied to follow along. She kept her eyes on her plate, pushing the food around with her fork, too aware of you sitting beside her, your presence filling the space between them like an unspoken weight.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, catching the way you tilted your head as you listened to Mindy tell a story, your lips curling into a soft laugh at the punchline. It was the kind of laugh that reached your eyes, but Tara knew it was wrong. It was forced.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

That's what hurt the most.

She saw the way Chad playfully nudged you, Anika smiling at your responses like you hadn't just lost everything. Even Sam, as perceptive as she could be, remained blissfully ignorant. They all laughed, joked, teased as though nothing had changed.

But Tara knew better.

She saw the tiny details—the way your hands trembled slightly when you reached for your drink, the way you blinked a bit too much when someone mentioned something sentimental, like the future or happiness.

It was in the way you turned your head toward her just a little too late when someone directed a question at the both of you, as if you didn't quite trust yourself to look at her right away.

And it was tearing her apart.

Tara's guilt sat heavy in her chest, weighing down every breath she took. She had always prided herself on being observant, on knowing you better than anyone else. Now, that knowledge felt like a curse.

When you laughed at another one of Chad's jokes, she couldn't help but remember the way you used to laugh with her. Not like this—not forced, not hollow, but real, pure, alive. That laugh had been one of her favorite things about you.

She had stolen it from you.

Her hands tightened into fists under the table, nails digging into her palms, leaving little crescents behind. She wanted to leave. She wanted to stand up and pull you outside, away from all of this, away from the questions and the stares and the suffocating air.

But she couldn't.

Instead, she sat there, silent and still, drowning in the memories of what used to be.

Like the way you used to rest your head on her shoulder during long car rides, your hair tickling her cheek as you murmured about whatever came to mind. Or the way you used to hold her hand without thinking, your fingers curling perfectly around hers as though they were made to fit.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that.

The Tara from back then—the Tara who loved you so deeply it scared her—felt like a stranger now.

Her eyes burned as she blinked back tears, her gaze fixed on the flickering candle in the center of the table. She had no right to cry. No right to feel this way. Not when she had been the one to let you go.

I don't love you anymore.

The words echoed in her head, haunting and sharp. She had said them so easily, hadn't she? Like they didn't mean anything. Like they weren't the end of everything you'd built together.

But they had been.

Her throat tightened as someone across the table said her name, jolting her out of her thoughts. She blinked, her eyes darting to yours as you turned to her, a question lingering on your face. She hadn't heard what they'd asked, too lost in the storm of her own regret.

You answered for her, your voice calm and steady, effortlessly filling the gap she left behind.

And that was what killed her the most.

Because she realized you didn't need her anymore. Not the way you used to.

But God, how she still needed you.

The dinner was winding down, everyone still buzzing with conversation and laughter as plates were cleared and dishes were passed toward the kitchen.

You'd joined the shuffle at first, picking up your share and helping where you could. But after a few minutes, you paused, wiping your hands on a napkin.

"It's really hot in here," you said lightly, voice even as you glanced around the room. "I think I'm gonna step out for some air."

No one thought much of it—Danny nodded absentmindedly as he carried a stack of plates, and Chad cracked a joke about the crowd being the real cause of the heat.

But Tara noticed. She noticed how your smile didn't quite reach your eyes when you spoke, how your fingers lingered on the back of one of the chairs before you finally turned to leave.

Her chest tightened as she watched you step out, closing the door behind you. She told herself it wasn't a big deal, that you were probably just overwhelmed like anyone would be.

The house was crowded, the air thick with the scent of food, candles, and too many conversations happening at once. It made sense to need a moment.

But a part of her couldn't let it go. What if you weren't just cooling off? What if you'd decided you'd had enough? Tara knew it was selfish—knew it was her fault you were even here in the first place—but the idea of you leaving, of walking away from this final thread of connection, made her stomach twist.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to distract herself by helping Sam and Mindy dry dishes, she gave in. She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair but didn't bother to put it on as she slipped outside, the cold hitting her immediately. Her breath puffed out in soft clouds as she scanned the porch.

You were there.

Leaning against the railing, your arms braced on the snow-dusted wood like the cold didn't bother you. Tara's steps were quiet as she approached, but the faint creak of the boards and the crunch of snow beneath her shoes announced her presence. You didn't turn, though. She didn't expect you to.

It wasn't until she was standing beside you that she noticed the cigarette. The faint orange glow lit up your fingers as you raised it to your lips, the smoke curling up into the night air.

She blinked, thrown off. You? Smoking?

The memory of countless conversations came rushing back. You had hated the smell of cigarettes when you first met. You'd begged her not to pick up the habit, your voice firm but your eyes soft as you reminded her how much it had bothered you growing up. You'd even tried to get Sam to quit once, though that hadn't gone anywhere.

"I didn't know you smoked," Tara said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

You didn't flinch, didn't even seem surprised. Maybe you'd heard her coming.

"Me either," you replied simply, taking a slow drag. You exhaled, the smoke mingling with the cold air as you added, "I took one from Sam's pack. Think she'll notice?"

Tara's stomach churned at the casualness of your words. She wanted to ask why. Wanted to tell you that this wasn't you, that you didn't have to do this—especially not because of her. But instead, she forced a small laugh, her breath shaky as she said, "Probably. She counts those like they're her kids."

You huffed a laugh at that, the sound dry but genuine.

Tara shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to ignore the way her fingers itched to reach for yours.

She told herself it wasn't her job to worry about you anymore. She'd forfeited that right when she'd said the things she'd said, done the things she'd done.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the knot in her chest didn't go away.

The porch light cast a dim, uneven glow, its bulb faintly flickering, like it was moments away from giving out completely. Tara figured Sam had been telling Danny to change it for months now, but of course, nothing ever got done until it absolutely needed to.

But under that weak light, you looked radiant. Your features softened against the backdrop of snow, the glow highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and catching in your eyes whenever you glanced at the cigarette in your hand. The cold brought a flush to your cheeks, and a stray curl brushed against your temple, no doubt loosened from the wind or your absentminded movements.

It wasn't just how beautiful you were in that moment—it was the way you looked exactly as you had two years ago. The same girl Tara had fallen in love with. The girl she couldn't get enough of, who consumed her every thought and who made her believe in a love so fierce it terrified her.

And yet, you were also the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

She swallowed thickly, her chest aching as the memories hit her all at once. She thought about how many nights she'd spent staring at you across a table just like this, thinking about how lucky she was. How lucky she had been. And now? Now she'd forced you here, to this Christmas dinner, just because she couldn't bring herself to tell the people closest to her the truth.

The truth that she'd broken you.

You were facing away, your gaze somewhere out in the snowy darkness, but before she could stop herself, the words slipped out, quiet and unbidden.

"You look really pretty."

Your head turned toward her slowly, the cigarette still balanced loosely between your fingers. The porch light illuminated your face, and it was only then she saw the sadness in your eyes. It wasn't anger, frustration, or bitterness. It was a quiet, aching sorrow that somehow felt worse than anything else.

"Please don't say that," you said softly.

Your voice was steady, but the words cut through her like a blade. She didn't need you to explain; she knew exactly what you meant.

Why would she say that? Why would she tell you how beautiful you were when she'd been the one to shatter everything between you?

When she'd been the one to tell you she didn't love you anymore? For all she knew, you still loved her. Maybe you were still clinging to what she'd so carelessly cast aside.

Her throat tightened as she looked at you, helpless to say anything else. She wanted to take it back, to swallow the words and pretend they hadn't been spoken. But it was too late. She'd opened her mouth and let herself slip, and now the weight of her own guilt was unbearable.

Because as much as she told herself she'd ended things to spare you—to spare herself—she couldn't ignore the truth.

She still thought you were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And she hated herself for it.

The silence between you stretched out, heavy and suffocating. Tara felt it settle deep in her chest, wrapping itself around her ribs until she could hardly breathe. She'd made a mistake���again. Speaking without thinking. Letting the guilt spill out in ways that only made things worse.

But it wasn't just the guilt. It was the shame.

She hadn't even apologized. Not properly. Not for how she ended things, not for the way she left you to pick up the pieces while she avoided facing the truth of what she'd done. She had no excuse for it—only cowardice.

She couldn't stop herself this time. The words clawed their way up her throat, and her voice came out trembling, low and unsteady.

"I just..." she started, but her breath hitched. Her vision blurred, and she blinked quickly, trying to keep herself together. "I'm really sorry. About how things ended between us."

You didn't move, your expression unreadable as you stared at the snow-covered street ahead. Tara's chest felt like it was caving in.

"I just wanted you to know that," she added, her voice even quieter now. She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling, her hands clenched tightly at her sides to keep them from shaking.

She didn't know what else to say, how to put into words the regret that was swallowing her whole. Her heart ached with the weight of everything she couldn't undo, everything she couldn't take back.

All she could do was stand there, her breaths shallow, waiting for whatever you would say in return.

The air felt colder now, biting at Tara's skin, but she barely noticed. She was too caught up in the silence that followed her apology, every second stretching unbearably long. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and for a moment, she thought you wouldn't say anything at all.

But then you spoke, softly, almost as if the words didn't carry much weight to you anymore.

"I know."

Tara blinked, stunned by the simplicity of your response. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—anger, maybe. Hurt. Anything but this strange, calm acceptance.

You took another drag of your cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold night air before adding, "I am too."

The words hit her harder than she thought they would. They felt surreal, bizarre even. As if this was the first time you'd been honest about how you felt since the breakup, but also the first time Tara realized that honesty wasn't going to fix anything.

Her throat tightened, and she didn't know what to say. What could she say to that? Apologies felt hollow now, and explanations were meaningless. She had already said everything she could.

All she could do was stand there, her gaze fixed on you as you leaned against the railing. The faint glow of the porch light cast soft shadows over your face, and even now, even in this moment, Tara thought you looked beautiful.

And just as beautiful as you were, the truth of it all settled painfully in Tara's chest: you were done being hers. And there wasn't anything she could do to change that.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy, like neither of you knew how to move forward or retreat. Tara's throat felt tight, her apology still hanging in the air. She wanted to say more, but her courage faltered. You stood there quietly, flicking the cigarette's ash into the snow, your expression unreadable now.

Before she could find the words to say anything else, the porch door creaked open behind her.

"Come on, lovebirds," Anika's teasing voice cut through the moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Time for gift-giving before Chad opens all his early."

Tara stiffened, heat rising in her cheeks as Anika's words sank in. She forced herself to glance at you, but you didn't even flinch. Instead, you gave Anika the same soft, effortless smile you'd been wearing all night—the one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'll be right in," you said lightly, flicking the last of the cigarette into the snow before turning back to the railing.

Anika lingered for a moment, her eyes flicking between the two of you like she was waiting for something more. But when neither of you moved, she gave a quick shrug and disappeared back inside, the sound of her laughter fading into the warmth of the house.

Tara stayed frozen in place, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You should go," you murmured, not looking at her. "They'll start asking questions if you don't."

She hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She wanted to say something, to break through the mask you were wearing, but she couldn't find the words. And maybe that was the point—there was nothing left to say, nothing that would make this easier or less painful.

With a quiet nod, she turned and walked back to the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. As the door shut behind her, the noise of the dinner enveloped her, but her mind stayed outside, on the porch, with you.

Inside, the world felt wrong. Too loud, too warm, too suffocating. Sam called her over, Danny was laughing with Chad, and Anika was already pulling Mindy into the gift pile, but all Tara could focus on was the pit in her stomach and the way her chest ached.

Her legs moved on autopilot, carrying her back to the living room, but her mind kept circling the same thought: she should've stayed. She should've stayed with you on the porch and said everything she couldn't say before. She should've explained why she ended things, even if she didn't know how to make it make sense to herself.

Because you deserved more than this. More than her selfish need to keep up appearances. More than her cowardice disguised as convenience.

She sat down on the couch, forcing a smile when Chad joked about something she didn't catch. She could feel Sam's eyes on her, like her sister could sense the storm raging inside her, but for once, Sam didn't press. The guilt sat like a weight in Tara's chest, heavier now than ever, pressing down on her ribs until it hurt to breathe.

She thought of the way you looked under the dim porch light, the snow falling softly around you, your features so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. You were the girl she fell in love with two years ago, the girl she shared everything with, the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

But that was a lie. A lie she told herself so many times she almost believed it.

She didn't know if she loved you the same way now, but she knew one thing with painful certainty—she didn't stop. And she hated herself for letting her fears, her insecurities, and her flaws destroy what you had.

As the gift-giving began and the room filled with laughter and excitement, Tara's smile stayed fixed in place.

But her heart stayed on that porch.

[kaciidubs]

Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2

❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1

It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.

You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.

He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?

He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?

He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?

There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...

Unless.

"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.

Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"

"What?"

"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"

"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."

"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."

"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.

The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"

"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"

"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"

Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.

"I might have a crush on someone..."

"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.

"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"

"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"

"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"

"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.

"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."

"You little-"

"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."

"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."

"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"

"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"

"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."

"Lee Felix-"

"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."

"Would you please-"

"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.

The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"

"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"

"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."

Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.

The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.

In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.

Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.

"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.

You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."

He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"

"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.

Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.

It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.

Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?

"The big bowls, yeah?"

Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"

You were in, deep.

You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.

"Here you go."

This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.

"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"

Normal. So very, very normal.

"You need anything else?"

Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.

He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.

"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"

The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.

"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."

"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."

Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.

This was going to be a long night.

It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.

The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.

This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.

Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.

"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."

"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.

"I always think of you."

His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.

I always think of you.

Always.

The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.

He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.

Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.

But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.

Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.

I always think of you.

It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.

"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"

He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."

Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.

Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"

"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."

"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"

"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."

Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.

Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.

Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.

Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.

The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"

"Yeah, you can come in!"

Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."

He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"

"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."

"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."

Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."

"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.

"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.

The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.

Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, always - what's up?"

Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?

You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.

"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.

Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"

"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"

"Did you think about me last month?"

His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"

"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"

The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.

"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"

Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"

His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"

"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"

The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.

"Come here."

Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.

"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"

You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.

He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.

When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."

Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"

"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.

Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."

The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."

Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.

"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."

He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.

However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.

Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.

"Off, Chris."

He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"

Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"

His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."

Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.

You know how this goes.

Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"

The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.

"That's my girl."

He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.

Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.

"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"

Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"

Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.

"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"

The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.

Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.

"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."

"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."

With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.

They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.

"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"

You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.

Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"

Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.

Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."

"Chris."

Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.

Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.

A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.

"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"

The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.

He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.

"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.

With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"

"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."

"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."

Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."

He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"

Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.

"Good girl."

Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.

In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.

He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.

"I'll go slow."

Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.

"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."

Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"

"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"

"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."

Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."

As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.

"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.

"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."

Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.

The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."

He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.

"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."

"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.

Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.

"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."

"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"

"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"

He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.

Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."

A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.

Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.

Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.

"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."

The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."

Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.

"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."

A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.

"Daddy!"

There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.

"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."

You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.

"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"

"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."

He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.

"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"

Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"

Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.

"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."

You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.

"'S too much, I-I can't-"

He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."

Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."

"Good, keep counting."

As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.

"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.

"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."

A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"

"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."

You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.

"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."

Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.

Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.

Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.

Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.

"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"

Oh, he was going to be the death of you.

Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."

You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.

"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."

Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"

He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."

With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."

Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[pomefioredove]

Hi!

Can I have a sugar cookie, #13, with chocolate drizzle, please? :3

- [|87

I SWEAR YOU GUYS ALWAYS CHOOSE THE BEST ONES

order #13, sugar with chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a new deuce

tropes: exes to lovers characters: deuce additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu, this is so cute word count: 800

You had known a lot of very, very different people.

Deuce Spade is two of those.

It had been, of course, a few years since you'd seen him last; after you broke up with him, you didn't want to be friends.

When he left for Night Raven College, you didn't want to write.

You had tried to forget about it. About him. It was nothing but a silly teenage romance, you told yourself. And it was for the best. He had a lot of growing up to do, after all, and your family really didn't want you spending time around a...

...Well, a delinquent.

Not that you thought of him like that.

On the contrary, you saw something of him that was good. You saw the Deuce Spade that loved his mother, that stood against unfairness, that cared about you.

It was a dream, and a happy one at that, but all dreams end eventually.

You couldn't waste your life waiting for him to grow up.

"Hi! Hi, hey!"

You look up.

Though the voices in the crowd of White Rabbit Fest blended together into one symphony of laughter and shouts and bugles, you could have sworn that was-

"I can't believe it's you!"

Out of the crowd comes a very... festive looking Deuce Spade.

You wouldn't have recognized him if it wasn't for that silly smile- his hair is combed and no longer banana-yellow, his voice has deepened, and he's wearing...

Bunny ears.

You blink. "...Deuce?"

"Ah-ah, sorry. You probably didn't recognize me in the costume," he says.

That's the least of it, you think.

"What're you doing here? I thought you're going to-"

"-To Night Raven College, yeah," he beams. "I'm just home for the weekend. I brought some friends for the festival."

You look over his shoulder, half-expecting to see a biker gang, but it's... a silver-haired boy dozing off against a topiary, a small robot chatting with a petite lavender-haired girl- no, boy, and a person with a whining direbeast tugging at their coat sleeve.

They're all very... pastel?

"...I see," you say. "...So... um, how's school?"

"It's great! I'm learning lots, and meeting so many new people. I'm on track to becoming an honors student! Well... um, kind of, anyway. How's town? How's your family? And school, how's-"

You hold a finger to his lips, which effectively silences him.

"Slow down," you say, withdrawing your finger. "...I think your mom needs you."

Deuce turns to see Dylla waving at the two of you, a knowing smile on her face. You wave back.

"O-oh. Right. I'll catch up with you later, then," he says, reluctantly returning to his school friends.

Quite honestly, you weren't expecting to see Deuce after that.

His group looked pretty busy, and with the news that they'd entered the traditional race against a different group of delinquents, and won, you were sure he'd have forgotten about you.

It seems that today is just full of surprises.

"H-hey, wait up!"

On your sunset-lit walk back home, after the festivities had ended, he catches up.

You stop and turn to see him panting, having run all the way from the town center. Before you can say anything, he shoves a bunch of flowers in your hands.

"Listen!" he says, a familiar look of conviction on his face. "I-I want to apologize for the way I acted when you knew me. You deserved a boyfriend you could be proud of, not one like me. I'm not that person anymore, I'm a new Deuce, and, um... you're... um, really, really great, and you deserve the whole world, and even though I couldn't give that to you back then, I hope the boyfriend you have now can! If not, I'll... uh, I'll write him a very strongly worded letter!"

You blink, listening to his rambling. He's all over the place, as per usual, but you can somehow still keep up.

Slowly, you smile.

"Deuce,"

He's still panting, both from the run and his long-winded speech. "...What?"

"I don't have a boyfriend,"

It's his turn to stare. Then, he smiles.

"Good. I-I mean, not good. I didn't mean it like- Damn it, I meant-"

You effectively silence him with a kiss on his cheek, a method you used many times when you were together.

Deuce blushes and stammers, his fingers grazing over the place you'd kissed him. You're happy to see it's still effective.

But this time, it feels more... genuine. More him. More like the good boy that you saw hidden behind his tough delinquent years ago.

You can't help but wonder what else has changed.

The sun is getting lower in the sky, and you know your family will be calling you for dinner soon. You look back at Deuce with a smile.

"I'll write you, okay? You'll have to tell me everything about Night Raven- and yourself... I'm eager to meet this new Deuce, you know,"

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Hangman Trying To Convince You To Go Out With Him

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Beer, flirtations, and teasing

Word Count: 1.4k

(A/N:) Wow! Look at me having a Top Gun idea in what seems like forever! I always love going back to movies I wrote so much for! But sometimes it takes a hot minute to get imagine ideas, but I had this idea a few weeks ago and it's been a little bit of a pain to get it from my brain into a post. But I finally succeeded and hopefully this makes the Hangman/ Glen Powell fangirlies happy! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Taglist: @chaoticcassidy, @the-marshals-wife, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

The Hard Deck was more rowdy than it had been in awhile. With the Top Gun pilots celebrating a hard won victory, them and everyone on base had came in to celebrate. It was busy enough that Penny called in backup to help serve the rambunctious pilots who deserved every drink they ordered. It wasn't often that she called you in, but when Penny did you knew that the night was going to be a crazy one. You had a reputation amongst the pilots, as being no nonsense and out right refusing any advances towards you before the navy men even finished a sentence. While the rumors kept the majority of would be suitors away, it only made the top pilots in Top Gun more bold.

With drink orders coming in so fast that you were barely able to keep up with them. Penny stayed close by picking up the orders you couldn't handle and ringing up tabs. You didn't pay much attention to the people that came to the counter until a familiar uniform caught your eye.

"Give me just a second and I'll be right with you," you handed off two beer bottles before setting into opening several more.

"I'll wait all night for you if that's what it takes," the pilot replied.

You stiffened, recognizing that voice. He was a notorious flirt and never knew when to take no for an answer. It wasn't your first time dealing with him and this moment would not be the last either. No matter how many times you shot him down he always kept coming back, always cocky and sure of himself.

A few moments ago...

Hangman didn't know the definition of the word defeat and he had his eye on the prize. And that was taking out the most difficult female bartender in the Hard Deck's lineup.

"Dude," Coyote tugged on Hangman's arm stopping the pilot in his tracks. "When are you going to give up? She's shot down more pilots than Maverick has and Rooster crashed and burned just last night with her."

"That's Rooster," Hangman scoffed. "I'm different."

"No you're not. What is this the third time you've tried?"

"Fourth."

Coyote rolled his eyes but watched Hangman walk away.

Now....

"Oh great," you sighed, "it's you again."

Hangman chuckled leaning against the counter, trying to get as close as possible. You took a step back, removing the last bottle cap a little violently and passing the drinks out. Grabbing more you glared at him sending a cap flying in his direction.

"Aren't you glad to see me," Hangman asked.

"Not particularly. I don't have time for you."

"And here I thought that the whole world had time for me," he smirked.

Rolling your eyes you turned away, another group of people calling for your attention. But still though you had walked away, Hangman stayed. His eyes never leaving you, watching you closely. You tried ignoring him, but when that didn't work, you glared. That only made his grin widen and he gave you a little wave. You slammed glasses down a little harder than necessary as your patience was wearing thin.

"Why do we have to do this every time?"

"Because," Hangman purred, "I don't like taking no for an answer."

"I noticed."

Watching you intensely while you grabbed another bottle of beer, you removed the cap and took Hangman's hand. His fingers immediately curled around yours and you slapped them back open, causing him to jolt before you placed the cold glass bottle in his palm, then wrapped his fingers around it and waved your hand in a 'shoo' motion. Digging some money from your tip jar, you put the cash into the register, 'Shoo. It's on me. Have a nice life Bagman."

Hangman laughed, defeated once more but not done in the slightest as he made his way back to the pilots crowding into one corner of the bar. Laughing at him and pointing fingers in his direction. What they didn't know was he was wounded, but not crashing and burning just yet. He saw that glint in your eyes and he had to sink the hook in a little more and he would have you.

Hours later and Penny flipped the sign and locked the door. You were finishing cleaning up the last bit of the bar when a check was waved in front of your face.

"Thank you so much for coming in and helping out," she said taking a seat.

"No problem," you replied putting the check in your pocket.

"I see Hangman has taken quite a liking to you," she grinned mischeviously.

"Ugh," you rolled your eyes, "don't remind me."

"He's not a bad guy."

"Sure if you like egotistical pilot maniacs. He's very obnoxious."

"Isn't that what makes him charming?"

"Absolutely not!"

Penny laughed before taking the rag from your hands, "Go on and go home. It's getting late."

"Let me know whenever you need help again."

Penny waved and you made sure to lock the door behind you. She wasn't lying that it was getting late as the sun had long ago set and quiet had settled over the beach. It was always a little creepy, especially the walk to your car. Normally you weren't scared but it was just a little off putting when no one was around and anything could happen.

"Leaving already?"

A voice sounded close by your shoulder causing you to jump and spin around. Hangman started to laugh at your startled expression, causing you to start punching him in the shoulder.

"Don't do that to me!"

"I was hoping you'd jump into my arms instead, I wasn't taking into account that you're a fighter. Can you please stop hitting me now?"

"Depends," you were fuming, "are you ready to stop being a jerk?!"

"Not particularly."

"Then I'm not done beating you yet!"

He let you get in a few more whacks before grabbing your fist and keeping a firm grip on it. You sucked in a breath, gaze flickering from his face to your joined hands back again to his face. He never stopped smiling.

"C'mon let me walk you to your car," Hangman cut the silence. The tension eased from your body and you tried yanking your hand away, only for him to tighten his grip. You huffed but relented, though you did start to protest when he intertwined your fingers together.

You could admit to yourself, that you did feel better that you weren't walking alone in the dark. Hangman had been waiting, not wanting to give up just yet as he really did like you. He just enjoyed aggravating you because you were so easily riled up.

"If you felt uncomfortable walking alone you could have said something to me," he mumbled rubbing at his neck.

"I appreciate it," you looked away squeezing his hand. "Maybe you aren't that major of an egotistical jerk."

Hangman laughed, releasing your hand so you can grab your car keys. "That makes me feel better then."

You unlocked the door and he opened the driver side door before you could even reach for the handle. Ushering you in he closed the door, letting you get buckled before leaning against the door. You rolled the window down and he stuck his head in.

"Thank you," you picked at the threads on the steering wheel.

"You're welcome," he tapped his fingers against your arm. "Does this mean that I'm growing on you?"

"Possibly."

"Think you could stomach a date with me?"

"I'll think about it."

"A kiss for your knight in a pilot uniform," he pointed to his lips.

"Absolutely not," you laughed rolling the window up causing him to hurry up and yank his head out. You backed up leaving Hangman in the headlights as he waved at you. For such a smug Top Gun pilot he could actually be really sweet. He wouldn't give up and you could respect that so for the first time you broke down.

Quickly rolling the window back down as you drove away you yelled out the window.

"Hey Bagman! Pick me up here tomorrow evening and buy me dinner!"

He laughed loudly, "It's a date!"

"Sure it is!"

You drove off, leaving an extremely happy pilot behind.

[teddiesworldd]

could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk

after the world ends (p2)

this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)

pairing: simon ghost riley x reader

tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')

day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.

time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 

other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 

in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.

it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.

you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 

head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.

the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.

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

four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.

nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.

but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 

“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.

“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 

“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.

“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.

“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.

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[axelsagewrites]

Felix Catton*Best Gift Ever

Pairing: felix x working class!reader

Word count: 1241

Warnings: money struggles, insecurity, rich people

Masterlist Here

You and Felix had been going out for around few months now and it had been amazing. You could tell his friends were defiantly shocked. You were from a different background to put it politely.  Aka he was absolutely filthy rich, and you were your average broke uni student.

This was your first Valentine’s day together and Felix had been going on for the past week about how much you were going to love what he had planned. All you knew was that it involved dinner and likely some kind of gift that was way nicer than anything else you owned.

Being surrounded by so many rich people though had a tendency to make you doubt yourself especially since one of Felix’s ex flings told you that she had bought him a gold necklace for valentines last year. Felix had assured you he’d gotten rid of it ages ago and thought it looked tacky as hell, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach.

You were essentially just waiting for your student loan to come in to get him something but by the time it came in and you paid for all your essentials, you were left with 100 quid for the month. Which considering Felix and his friends liked to go eat and drink out all the time and he always wanted you to come meant it wouldn’t last very long. it didn’t help that whenever Felix would buy you a drink you’d inevitably get comments from one of the jealous rich girls in the group about it.

After writing down your months budget you felt like you were going to cry. You only had a spare tenner to get him something. How the hell does money go away so fast? You tried looking around the local shops for something but there was another issue about going to oxford; everything nearby was designer or name brand.

Your options were essentially a sample size of cologne or one tenth of a bracelet. Eventually you decided to suck it up and just try make something.

There you were on valentines waiting for Felix to arrive at your dorm while you finished wrapping up his present. You had bought a blank CD and spend hours curating the perfect playlist and illegally burning it onto the disc. You’d also diy’d a bunch of kiss notes by writing a small note, kissing the back of it, cutting it out and sealing the whole note in sticky tape so it didn’t smudge.

It had actually turned out pretty cute however when you opened the door and saw Felix holding a huge bouquet of flowers and 2 wrapped presents you felt your heart sink but you tried not to show it, “Roses for my flower,” he grinned, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pressing the bouquet into your hand, “Happy valentines baby,”

“Happy valentines,” you said, opening the door so he could come in without a care in the world while you internally freaked out.

Felix instantly went to sit on the bed, sitting one of the gifts down and holding the other one out to you, “Cmon open it. I cannot wait to see your reaction,” he said, bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas.

“Okay okay,” you laughed, taking the gift and starting to carefully unwrap it. Felix reached a hand out, pulling you by your hip to sit on his leg while you opened it. “Wow Felix I can’t accept this,” you gasped as you opened the jewellery box revealing a gorgeous pink pearl necklace.

“Don’t be silly of course you can,” he said, taking the box from your hand, “You deserve it. can you?” he said, nodding at your hair. You moved it out the way while he clasped the necklace around your neck, “and done. Almost as beautiful as you,”

You found yourself melting into his smile. Before you could say anything else however his eyes landed on the gifts you’d just finished wrapping. “Oh, are these for me?” he asked, grinning even wider as you nodded and he reached for the gifts.

You bit your lip as he tore into the first present. The CD. Suddenly it looked so cheap, and you felt your heart break as he flipped it over. you closed your eyes, expecting him to get annoyed but instead you felt him wrap his arm around you as he read the back, “This is so wicked thanks babe,” he said as he laughed at some of the songs you had listed on the back, “We should listen to it tonight. I’ve never had someone make me a CD,”

“Theres the envelope too,” you mumbled, and he lit up all over again as he gently sit the CD down and picked up the envelope.

As he pulled out the kisses his eyebrows knitted in confusion but when he flipped them over, you’d never seen as big a smile on his face, “Did you make these? These are so fucking cute oh my god you’re amazing,” he said, sitting them down so he could wrap his arms so tightly around you, you wondered if you may snap.

“I didn’t expect you to like them so much,” you laughed as Felix finally let you go enough to breathe again, “Sorry it’s not much,” you said, smile dropping slightly when you saw your gifts laid side by side.

“Hey,” Felix said, reaching up a finger to your chin, turning your head to face him, “I love them. Why do you look so sad?” he said, his smile dropping.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m some cheap skate. I wanted to get you something good and- “

Felix practically picked you up and turned you to face him while straddling his lap, “No. don’t feel bad about any of this. I love them. You have no idea how much this means to me. I mean the time and effort you put into this,” he said, looking down at the gifts. “The money doesn’t matter to me. It never has. But you,” he said, moving to hold your hands, “you mean way more than any dumb bit of jewellery,”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t you apologise,” he said, wrapping his arms around you for a tight hug which you quickly reciprocated. You stayed like that for a solid minute before Felix pulled away, “Now, you need to get ready or we’re going to be late,” he said with that dopey smile back on his face. He was never one to linger on the sadness after all, “Speaking of open it,” he said pulling the last gift over.

You laughed as you tore into the present, Felix getting a kick out how you didn’t try save the wrapping paper like last time. you gasped, yet again at the sight. “And don’t even think of trying to refuse it. seeing you in that is a gift for me too you know,” he joked making you slap his chest before you went to pull the gorgeous red dress out the box. “Now c’mon,” he said, pushing you out his lap before slapping your ass.

“Hey!”

“Cmon get dressed,” he said, leaning back in the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna leave?” you teased, holding the dress up to yourself.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p, “I think I’ll stay right where I am,”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,”

“No. I’m lucky I have you,”

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[its-avalon-08]

the paths we didn't take (cl16)

part3!

multipart story! part 1 part 2

Summary : Years ago, Charles Leclerc and Y/N promised to let each other go—for his dreams, for her freedom. No calls, no texts, just memories they buried deep. But when fate reunites them in Monaco, old scars and unresolved feelings resurface. Some loves are unforgettable, but can they find their way back, or is it too late?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Chapter 3: "The End of Us"

Graduation night was a blur of laughter, hugs, and the echoing sound of congratulatory cheers. The air was warm and thick with excitement, and the whole school had gathered for one last celebration. Charles and Y/N, though, barely noticed the festivities. The world around them felt distant, like they were in their own bubble, separated from the noise.

Charles stood with a wide grin on his face, surrounded by his friends. He had received the call that morning. Formula 2 had offered him a spot, and as much as he should have been celebrating with everyone else, his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl who had always been by his side. Y/N was now talking to a group of her friends, but her eyes kept flickering toward him, as if they both knew this night would end differently than they had imagined.

Y/N stood near the refreshment table, trying to focus on the conversation, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the acceptance letter she had gotten just that afternoon. She had been accepted into her dream college, the one she had worked so hard for. But as much as she had longed for this moment, a part of her felt a sense of dread growing in her chest.

She glanced at Charles across the room. He caught her gaze and smiled that smile—the one that had been hers for so long. She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

The party continued late into the night, but as the evening drew to a close, the crowd thinned out. The music softened, and the chatter faded. Charles and Y/N, finding themselves alone once again, slipped away from the remaining group of students. They made their way to the same rooftop where they had sat so many times before, where their relationship had been built on the innocence of childhood and the promises of forever.

The city lights below them flickered like a sea of stars. Y/N sat on the edge of the roof, staring at the sky. Her hands rested on her knees, but her fingers trembled slightly. She could feel the finality of this night creeping in. The moment they both knew was coming.

Charles stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the same sky, his heart pounding. He wanted to reach out, to pull her close and say something—anything—that would make this easier. But the words wouldn’t come.

“You did it,” Y/N said softly, breaking the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to Formula 2.” She turned to face him, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he was struggling with the same emotions.

Charles nodded, but there was a bittersweet smile on his face. “I did.”

“I’m proud of you, Charles. You worked so hard for this.” Y/N swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. “You deserve it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said quietly, his voice laced with raw emotion. “You’ve always been here. I know I’ve been distracted, with racing and everything, but you’ve always been here.”

“I’ve always been here,” she repeated, her throat tight. “And I’ll always be here, even when I’m not with you.” Her voice cracked, and she quickly wiped away a tear, not wanting to break down in front of him, but she couldn’t help it. “I’ll always cheer you on, Charles. Even when I’m not right by your side.”

Charles turned to her then, his heart breaking at the sight of her trying to hold it together. He had always admired her strength, but right now, he just wanted to take all her pain away, even though he knew he was the one causing it.

“Y/N…” His voice faltered. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I wish things could be different.”

She shook her head, her tears now falling freely. “Don’t apologize, Charles. This isn’t about that. This is about our futures… and the paths we have to take.” She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. “We’re not the same people we were when we started this. We’re growing into different versions of ourselves, and that’s okay. We can’t keep holding on to something that isn’t meant to be.”

Charles stepped closer, his hands shaking as he reached for hers. “I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/N’s heart cracked open. She looked up at him, seeing the pain in his eyes that mirrored her own. “You’ll always be my first love, Charles. No one will ever replace you.” She closed her eyes briefly, taking a shaky breath. “But you need to find the right girl. The one who can give you the future you deserve. The one who’ll be there when you need her.”

“No,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I don’t want anyone else. I’ve always wanted you. You’re the one I wanted.”

She smiled through her tears, shaking her head gently. “But you have a future that’s bigger than this. Bigger than us. You have racing, and you’re going to go far. I don’t want to be the one who holds you back. You deserve to be free to chase your dreams without worrying about me.”

Charles stepped back, his heart in his throat, and looked up at the stars. “I’ve always been so focused on my racing,” he murmured. “But you’ve been here, Y/N. And I haven’t appreciated it enough.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

Y/N reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. “You will,” she said softly. “You’re stronger than you think. And you’ll find someone who makes you happy. Someone who can be there for you in ways I can’t.”

The weight of the words hung between them like an anchor, dragging them deeper into the inevitable. The silence was thick with everything they couldn’t say, everything they couldn’t change.

Charles looked at her one last time, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ll never forget you, Y/N. You’ll always be in my heart.”

Y/N nodded, her voice catching in her throat. “I’ll never forget you either.” She took a final, shaky breath before adding, “I’ll always love you, Charles. No matter where we go.”

He kissed her then, one last time. It was slow, tender, and filled with all the words they couldn’t say out loud. And in that moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Like they were the only two people left in the universe. But they both knew the truth—they couldn’t stay here forever.

When they pulled apart, both of their eyes were red, their hearts broken but full of love.

Y/N turned away first, walking toward the edge of the roof. She looked back at him one last time.

“You’ll be great, Charles,” she whispered. “And I’ll always be cheering you on, from wherever I am.”

And with that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Charles standing there alone beneath the stars, the weight of their love and their parting settling in his chest.

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[clarencethemouse]

Bleeding Light (pt. 1)

Nightcrawler x reader

because I'm feral and no one can stop me :)

This has been festering rotting in my brain for a week. This reads like a whole story (and a long one, because I have a lot of thoughts), but my brain spouts better as bullets. So it's bullets. But as a story. Enjoy :))

(also I totally may write out a proper story later. But you get the lore right now)

the Pining.

let it be known that it was mutual. And it was mutual for a Long Time

You were already with someone else when you two met. With his never-ending charm, wit, and kindness, it didn't take long for you to hit it off as good friends.

this soon became a close friendship, often closer emotionally than you were with your partner. You were a mutant, unbeknownst to your partner (out of shame). You trusted them, and they respected mutants, but by the time you gained the courage to tell them, you felt it was too late to risk losing their trust over such a crucial lie. So you maintained this front, masterfully, for over a year

with Kurt, you didn't feel the need to hide. He understood. With him, you could bond and relate life stories in ways you could never with your long-term partner.

it was soon that you began to realize your feelings for Kurt were stretching farther than any other friendship before. And that you liked Kurt more than you ever loved your partner

this tore you up, and you became wracked with guilt. You didn't know how to end it with your partner, though you knew it had to be done. You still loved and cherished the person you spent the last year with, but it wasn't fair to them

over the last several months you two had planned a future together. It was a critical time of your life to gain independence, move out of home, and start your own journeys of life. For so long, you wanted to start this new life with them. It wasn't so simple as breaking up. Their, and your, near future was built upon the assumption that you would marry, as you did love them.

but not as much as you liked Kurt.

Your choice was made when you finally sat down with them and revealed your mutation. One thin cut was made on your hand. Light poured from the skin, igniting both of your faces in shock and fear. As the white blood trickled down your palm, your partner demanded why. Why could you keep this from them? Why did you withhold such an important part of you for so long?

when you could provide no answer they deserved, they walked out.

with your future with them obliterated, you had nowhere to turn. Nowhere to go to escape the psychological torture (and emotional abuse) of your parents' failed marriage. When you turned to Kurt for a deep shoulder to cry on, he provided an answer. An answer he knew would be best for you, and cursed himself that he was more excited about what it could mean for him. The X-Mansion

it only took mere days before you packed everything of value and were stationed at the mansion. It didn't take long for Kurt to convince the professor to let you stay, at least for as long as it took you to get on your feet on your own (and he wanted you to stay because... reasons).

you were more than happy to suggest doing your part as a teacher for the school

settling into the flow of the school, and life so close to people just like you, was a struggle eased by Kurt. He was the new kid before, and just as he had Rogue, you had him.

soon you built your own social circle and support group of friends, fitting perfectly into the puzzle that is the X-Men family. Soon, you were able to grieve your lost love and move on with the world you were always meant for.

...it did not take long for everyone to notice the brighter smiles you offered Kurt. The glances you sent him after making your witty, slightly dirty comments. How he was the first person you sat with during movie night, resting your head on his shoulder as you both grew tired. How you distracted yourself during end-of-the-day classes, searching for him in the hall through the window in your classroom door. How he was the only one you didn't hide the blinding paper cuts and golden scraped knees from.

and it did not take long for everyone to notice the way his tail whipped more excitedly the instant you entered the room. The way he recalled you explaining your day so enthusiastically as if you were the brightest, most wise creature to grace the planet. The way he was always the first to appear by your side after a more gruesome training session, examining every inch of your visible body more thoroughly than Beast. The way when he would let you down after a piggyback ride, his smile faltered ever so slightly to stop touching you.

so Rogue and Gambit formed a plan. Because that's what good friends do

she worked on whittling you down to admit it to yourself. He was happy to encourage Kurt to take more forward action with you. Jubilee soon joined in the plan, and soon there was a whole network of friends conspiring to get you two together because GOD WE ALL SEE IT. THE STUDENTS SEE IT. THE PIGEONS SEE IT. CHARLES AND JEAN HAVE TO SEE IT IN YOUR MINDS EVERY DAMN DAY. GET A ROOM.

and it works

Rogue got it out of you quickly. She was able to help you sort out your feelings and stop feeling so guilty about the past. You did what had to be done, and you never would have been truly happy with your old partner living a life of lies. But you can't lie to Kurt. He knew you deeper than anyone without even trying, and you wished to God he could know you a little better.

it took a month before Gambit was finally able to convince Kurt that you were struggling just the same. Because as much as the man flirted, teased, and worked himself into our attention by any means possible, he could not shake the dreaded pit feeling that you were still someone else's. You were still just out of his reach, and he would never know the feeling of your beautiful lips; your hands beyond high fives and thumb wrestling matches. Never have the honor to show the world everything he wished he could have with you

Kurt met you on the mansion roof. You were minding your business; reading a book and playing with light over the shadows. You didn't want to come inside. And if you were on the roof, that's where Kurt was gonna make himself comfortable. He would hang by the cell tower by just his tail if it meant you would talk to him. Anything if it meant he could tell you the truth.

it started with you looking over at him in a moment of silence, when you truly had no inclination to think he was there with any ulterior motive. Just one thought on the tip of your tongue

"You're so beautiful."

kurt.exe has stopped working

neither of you left the roof. The night wrapped with your head on his chest and his hand in your hair, him wondering where the absolute Hell it all went wrong.

you did wake up around 2 a.m. Sitting up abruptly at the surprise of your position, you were met with Kurt's golden eyes already awake and on you. No one beyond you two knows what happened on the roof that night, but your relationship changed. No more hiding.

when you returned to your lives the next morning, the others didn't need to be told that the mission was successful. Your smiles and bright eyes shared the whole story

[hyuckswoman]

“hi y/n” you hear your friend jaemin say

“hi guys” you answer, you were going to greet them individually but there were 5 people in front of you,, you’re too lazy

“I’m jeno, i don’t think we’ve met yet, though it feels like it” he introduces himself

“i’m y/n, what do you mean by that?” you ask confused,, it’s amazing how men have terrible communication skills

“jaemin talks a lot about you, or more like brags about being your friend, then jisung started talking about finally having a friend that was cool, haechan talks about you here and there and then mark cause of the whole..you know.. situation?” jeno says hesitating at the last part of his sentence

you burst out laughing, you swear the whole mark situation has to be a collective traumatic experience for everybody

“dude cmon, can we like stop bringing that up?” mark says you can feel the awkwardness radiating from him

“hey i’m ready thanks for waiting” your friend renjun who you had been waiting for finally arrived

upon seeing the mass amount (5) of people he decided to introduce himself

“hey i’m renjun nice to meet some of you” he decides to say remembering his twitter quarrel with who he described to you as his ‘arch nemesis’ haechan

“you’re still mad about that?? dude grow up quite literally too you’re small” haechan retorts after hearing renjun’s remark

“i’m baffled at how much audacity you have to insult me when we’re not friends” renjun says. here’s a thing about your friend renjun, the man was never not only going to back down from a fight but also lose it

“i literally made an innocent funny comment and you’re still pissed, no wonder i’m y/n’s favorite” donghyuck answers as renjun laughs

“y/n who’s your favorite?” renjun asks, you debated if you should tease him by answering donghyuck or give him the satisfaction that he needed by answering his name

“you duh” you answer, you knew renjun was not 100% confident and knowing your friend, a little validation here and there is very much appreciated

you do start to feel bad when everybody else starts to laugh while haechan whines about the world hating him or something?

“to be fair though, we don’t know each other that much and even if we’ve just met i really like you and i could totally see us being friends in the future” you answer truthfully, you’re not completely heartless you’ll let haechan go with a small win

you don’t even have the time to hear his answer as you can feel yourself being dragged by renjun to the place ningning was patiently waiting for you.

13. friend groups interacting

previous chapter masterlist next chapter

notes: I wasn't planning on releasing a chapter tonight (on a monday too..) but when i logged onto tumblr and saw everybody going like: I won't be active!! i thought whomever bothers to read my story deserved a new chapter

Like always, reaction n feedback (even requests for other posts) are well appreciated here ><

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[tobeabatman]

Freeform fat activist post

Did you know that weight discrimination has increased by 66 % during the last decade and is one of the only forms of discrimination actively condoned by society? (From Adressing weight stigma and fatphobia in public health by Amanda Montgomery, RD, LDN, at publichealth.uic.edu)

And it’s like, it makes me so mad. It makes me so angry to see a bunch of thin people spreading bs without our fat people’s opinions, worsening the social conditions of people like me. It makes me mad that the first time I experienced medical fatphobia was at age 7. It makes me mad that it feels like there’s nothing I can do.

I can’t go to public transport without hearing casual fatphobia, I can’t study without hearing fatphobia, I can’t go online without seeing fatphobia, I can’t even film certain things online because of fatphobia.

I try escapism. I read a bunch of books: No fat characters, casual fatphobic comments.

I watch a bunch of videos on Youtube: Most fat creators are disencouraged from filming by either the algorithm or by viewers. The left-over thin creators casually act like fat people are lesser-than, when something triggers the topic of fat people.

I flinch, I wait, whenever a topic comes up that could possibly elicit fatphobia. The word ”lifestyle choices” makes my heart beat just a bit faster.

At school, I have to sit through an entire 115 minute lesson on how fat people should lose weight. I am the only ”obese” kid in class, there is one overweight person besides me.

I can’t look the teacher in the eye for the whole class. All my future lessons I sit in his class thinking, ”You don’t say it out loud, but I think you think of me differently than my thin classmates”.

I surround myself activism. Disability justice, anti-racism, feminism, -ism -ism. Justice is important to me.

..But I notice there’s no attention to people like me. Even though there’s so many different communities, fat people have a small and incomplete one. Even my leftist friends don’t note our struggles.

I continue my activism, but I’m getting more tired.

Someone lists different communities, says that medical bias is bad against those groups. I notice that mentioning fat people would fit right alongside those other communities. But I remember we’re invisible.

Another person says that confidence is sexy. I think it must be easy to see it that way if you’re not statistically more likely to have lower self-esteem.

Third person is concerned about my mental health for living in a fatphobic society. ”Who am I supposed to get help from?” I ask. Body-positive therapists are easy to find, but most of them don’t understand the pressure of living in a body hated by most.

—

The future I want is where no one is oppressed. That includes fat people. Get rid of your ”what about” thinking, and realize that fat people are human too.

And if you’re fat, then you deserve none of the sh*t this world has manipulated you into thinking you deserve (until you change your body, of course). I know you most likely had super low self-esteem growing up, maybe you got bullied, maybe that bullying continued into your work life.

I wish I could say it gets better, that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. But for that, we need the help of everyone. Are you willing to help?

Thank you for reading.

[thoughtsforsoob]

my birthday is coming up! can i please request smut with seonghwa and mingi (bcs its his birthday too! we share the same birthday 🥳)

- 🐰

a/n: happy birthday 🐰 anon !! I hope you have a good one and I hope this piece compensates as a good birthday gift 🩷 I hope your birthday was not too bad (that asshole you told me about sucks. don’t let him ruin your day! stink men don’t deserve the time of day) please enjoy!!

Mingi and seonghwa were never the first people you would think of when you try to think of members with similar interest. They both just kind of went on their own path. For example, Seonghwa loved his LEGO’s and Mingi loved playing video games/watching anime. One thing they could agree on though, was how much they adored you.

You were just a friend to them. You happened to work for them as a staff member for this world tour they were on. You were in charge of getting them from place to place, keeping them in line and helping during shows. They enjoyed your presence so much. The two men were particularly fond of you and would always fight over you. You found their bickering endearing but never took it deeply. Of course you thought they were just joking. Idols never go for staff but this case was very different.

Since the tour had started and you began working with them, they’d been plotting a way to get you into bed with them. Now that the final show was approaching and you’d go back to work with other groups, they needed to put their plan into action. It all started after the last show. The whole staff and the members got together for a nice dinner at a privately reserved restaurant. Of course, the two members took up all your attention the whole time and were practically tripping over their own feet to make you laugh. You just went along with it and gave them the attention they wanted. Besides, you’d grown to enjoy their company. You’d miss them a lot once you were gone. All came to an end after about three hours of talking and eating and drinking. You escorted the boys back to their room that they happened to be sharing together. Before leaving from their front door, they offered to bring you inside to drink some more and hang out. You hesitated because you could get in big trouble but how could you deny them? They’d been so sweet and kind to you that you felt awful saying no.

You went in and had a drink with them. Everything was all fun and giggles when you noticed that they both had their big, dreamy hands on your thighs. You tried not to make a big deal out of it but it was starting to make you feel stuff you didn’t think you should feel about them. At some point, the conversation died down and mingi was the first one to speak up about the situation. “So, y/n. Thank you for keeping us together for this tour. It’s means a lot. There’s just something we’ve been meaning to tell you about.” Seonghwa immediately chimes in, “yeah. This may come as a shock but we’re both really into you. We’ve been fighting over you this whole time but we decided not to fight anymore because we could just give you both our attention.” You’re sitting there…unsure of what to say to them. Mingi started to talk again, “so…before you leave us for good, we wanted to ask you something. Would you be interested in sleeping with us?” You immediately started to blush bright red. “S-sleep with you two? I’d love you but won’t I get in trouble? I don’t wanna get in trouble. I like this job.” You frowned and the boys immediately made you smile again. “Of course not! We’d never get you in trouble. We’re asking you for this. Please? Sleep with us? We promise we’ll show you pleasure you’ve never experienced before.” Seonghwa looked at you with his big, beautiful eyes and you just could deny him. You nodded and they looked so excited.

They started by having you strip out of your clothes and they did the same. They offered to let you shower and the three of you stepped into the very spacious shower. While cleaning up, a lot of deep, passionate kissing ensued. Mingis kisses were slopping and desperate and seonghwas kisses were gentle yet meaningful. Both kisses being very fulfilling and enjoyable. You three were finally clean and were able to get out and dry off. They didn’t even let you put on clothes because they wanted to get right to work. Mingi picked you up and set you on their big bed. They picked the biggest option they could in anticipation for this day (calking for the win). Seonghwa practically pushed mingi out of the way for the space between your legs. He pulled your legs over his broad shoulders and looked up at you. “Is this okay? Can I eat you out? You just look so delectable.” You nodded and he dove right in. Out of jealously, mingi got on the bed and started to kiss you and play with your nipples. These combined sensations made you beak out in moans. They enjoyed listening to your noises. After he was fed up, mingi made seonghwa trade with him to be fair. Mingi eat you out the same we he kissed you, messy and desperate. Saliva and slick were all over his face, making you even more wet at the sight. He didn’t even let you cum, wanting you on his cock before you were allowed to cum.

You started to get restless and that’s when you really began to take some charge. You turned around towards seonghwa, wanting him to go first. “Please? I need you inside. You can be first. Please?” You gave him your best big shiny eyes and he folded, not needing you to beg at all. Mingi moved so that seonghwa could have his way. He ask mingi to grab him a condom and he did. Seonghwa ripped it open with his teeth and slid it on. You whimped while watching him and he smirked, “you liked that, pretty girl? Don’t worry. Im going to take such good care of you right now. If something hurts, you’re gonna tell me. Okay?” You nodded up at him. You three went through picking a safe word and everything was squared away.

Seonghwa started but slowly pushing into your wet entrance. He started to hiss and you were whimpering. “Fuck! You feel so damn good! So good for me. Right?” You nodded and look at him, feeling the pain subside. “Mm please this feels so good. Thank you! Thank you!” Out of instinct you reach up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He found the action endearing and let you hold onto him. Mingi watched the whole time, fucking his fist and moaning. You turned to look at him and smiled, enjoying watching how he touched himself. Seonghwa took his time with you and when you both were getting close, he warned you. “Fuck, I’m going to cum. Please? You’re gonna cum with me, pretty girl?” You nod, “mhm please let me cum! I’ve been so good!” He pulls you close and you do the same, finally cumming together. When you both finished, you laid down and panted but mingi didn’t give you much of a chance e to recover. You cried out when he jumped on top of you pushed himself inside you. The size difference was very noticeable to you and it made you feel the pain again. “Fuck! I can’t!” You cried and mingi just smirked, loving how you were complaining about his size. He gently caressed your cheek and tried his best to make you feel comfortable. “Does it hurt too much? Poor thing.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes and shake your head, “no please! Keep going. I want it.” You begged him and he continued. He fucked you at a quick pace, leaving your tummy with an ache afterwards. He just went in so deep and so fast. He finished a little quicker than seonghwa, moaning loudly when he finally came, making sure to let you cum also.

When all was said and done, they both laid there with you, taking care of you. Their aftercare combined was the best. They made sure you drank plenty of water and got some snacks in you. You also cleaned you up super gently. They don’t just want to fuck you and have it over with. They never did. They knew you deserved way better than that. “So, you aren’t just going to leave us, are you?” Seonghwa asked with a cute little pout. You shake your head and held onto him. “Nope. Not right now at least. I probably can’t walk always so I’m here for now.” They both laughed along with you and mingi scooted closer to you to snuggle you also. You enjoyed their affection. They were so sweet to you and made sure you were comfortable before falling asleep. You were going to miss them and they were going to miss you also. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to miss them too much because they planned to beg their management to recruit you into their company.

[ladylucksrogue]

I was going to wait til Monday to post a bit of this, you know for mental health Monday but I decided to roll with it now.

I don’t post a lot of real life things here because this tends to be my little fandom safe space where I love posting my fandom messiness and thirsting over clones and posting my fanfic.  But I have noticed a lot of peeps that I interact with are going through a rough patch.  Post Holiday blues, January blues…something.  It’s rough out there, especially in the real world.

Went through a bit of a slump myself.  Prior to the holidays, I did up my writing plan for all my WIPs.  It was very…ambitious for lack of a better word.  Like damn, I know I can write a lot in a session but we’re talking like a fic a day and that…just hasn’t happened.  So, when I missed a couple days of writing, I was hard on myself.  I hold myself to impossible standards sometimes and forget to give myself space.  

I was pretty hungover on January 1st, the wine got to me a bit more than usual and I just wasn’t feeling writing at all, though I did push myself to write a few words.  I was able to post my New Years story a couple days later but I remember posting and thinking this is shit.  This isn’t your usual, though it’s not terrible in retrospect.  I just…it got to me.  So instead of following my crazy plan I focused on some drabbles and doing Whumpuary, which is thankfully every other day, so it gives me a bit of space.  I have been working on my next installment of my fix-it, which the first scene is light hearted and it’s been fun but slow going.

Had a bit of an epiphany a couple days ago, because of a comment someone said.  And it sent me into a bit of a tail spin.  An angry tailspin that my hubby had to catch the brunt of.  He is fabulous though and just rolls with it, lets me rant and knows that I’ll feel better for it.  Someone in our extended friends group cracked a joke about me not working yet and how I’m just enjoying sitting around at home.  It was meant to be light hearted but it hit wrong on so many levels.

I lost my job last year due to a company restructuring.  It was sudden and I was really angry at the circumstances of it.  And more importantly, because it was the second job I had lost in two years to no fault of my own.  But I still gave myself the fault in all of it.  There was a time where I really struggled to hold down a job for a variety of reasons after I got out of the military, and every time something like this happens, it digs up a bunch of stuff from then…

But the fact of the matter is, since losing my job a lot has happened healthwise and I am actually on disability.  As of right now, I can’t work.  It’s something that has been a long time coming and the timing just happened to work out.  At the same time, people who know react one of two ways, oh but you’re fine, you don’t look sick, why can’t you work, or they start on some BS about must be nice, etc.  I won’t even start on the whole who is deserving and mooching off the government stuff, because I will just make myself upset.

It isn’t nice.  For someone who has worked all their life, I would much rather go to work every day than sit at home.  Weird but true.  And I feel doubt and second guess this and wonder if I can go to work and all this is just me being weak, etc.

Comments like that from people don’t help at all.  And then it happened, the moment of clarity…because usually I’m fine on most days.  And then I was working on a scene, got up to make myself some coffee and I had a moment.  There was a sound in my apartment, no clue what it was, but it set something off in my head and for a good moment, I had this really disorienting moment of not really knowing where I was, like half in a memory and half in the present and trying to sort it.  It’s happened before.  I have PTSD, an autoimmune condition, and a whole list of things, so the amount of times something has gone wrong suddenly is long.  But I’m standing there at my kettle like nearly going into a panic attack and managed to calm myself down and sort what happened.  Had this happened at work, I would have had to go sit somewhere for a bit, wasting work time to pull myself out of it and then pretend to be productive for the rest of the day.  Because, in the immediate aftermath of this, after I calmed down, I was dizzy and exhausted and just done.  No energy left.

And the fact that I was home allowed me to go take a nap for a couple hours and reset so to speak, which is probably the best and most effective way I have found in dealing with a PTSD attack.  It works for me personally better than any med they have given me.  Can’t do that working.  Not to mention, if someone is next to you when stuff like this happens, most people are not willing to understand.  You are immediately judged and ostracized (in my experience) because you do not fit into society’s mold.  

But after all this, it made me realize that I need to give myself a bit of grace.  To allow myself moments to feel bad.  To focus on myself and be accepting.  I think it is a big part of self-care we all forget.  Like even people that don’t have medical conditions or diagnoses need to remember.  We all cannot be perfect and productive always.  Sometimes we need a break.  We need to allow ourselves that.

Especially during this time of year, when stress is high and people are frustrated.  We just all need to give ourselves a pat on the back, take things a day at a time and practice a little acceptance.  Like if we finish that chapter or art or whatever in a day, that is fantastic.  On other days we might not do much of anything, and that is ok too.

This is in no way a message saying I am taking a break btw, so no worries! To those who follow my writing, I am here and writing, just on my own time. So at times, I'll probably post a bunch at once and other times, it'll be a bit slow going. Also, keep asks and interactions coming, absolutely keeps me sane and happy to keep interacting!

[acti-veg]

(keep public for discussion) is there any evidence of non animal (plant, fungi, etc) sentience? How about bug? And should sentience be the bases of what deserves basic rights (food, shelter, safety, etc) ?

There is no real evidence of sentience for any organisms other than animals, no. As far as we can tell, in the absence of nerve ganglia to transmit a pain response, a nervous system or a a brain to process it, nothing resembling suffering as we understand it can occur. I think it is perfectly possible that there is some sort of ‘sensation,’ and ‘will’, I’m thinking of in large networks like funghi or lichen, but it would be so radically different to anything we understand that we can’t observe it in the same way or use the same language to describe it. Sentience is a human concept we impose on the world, and it isn’t an exact one.

For insects, they’re a diverse group but by and large, they have a relatively simple central nervous system, made up of groups of nerve ganglia attached to a simple, central nervous system through multiple sections of the body. They also have brains to process that nerve response into something resembling pain. All of this would have to essentially be there but not work in the same way it does in all other animals for them not to be sentient.

That said, with insects (and arthropods more generally) it is still much less of a settled debate. Insects have many traits we associate with sentience, most notably nociceptors, which are capable of processing a negative stimuli response. You can find a review of the current science on this here, but the short answer is that we think that at last many (if not most) of them are sentient in at least a simple way, but we need more research to say for certain.

Sentience is a useful benchmark for determining the extent to which a creature has subjective experiences, and therefore can experience their own oppression and cruelty inflicted on them. If they can experience pain, we shouldn’t be hurting them. As for rights, sentience is far from perfect as a measure of who should have rights and who shouldn’t. Sentience is a useful benchmark, but any way of distinguishing who should have rights and who shouldn’t will always be fairly arbitrary.

The way I think of it is that sentient beings obviously need some fundamental rights, we can interpret, at least to some extent; what the interests of sentient beings actually are based on what they pursue and which stimuli they experience as negative. For insentient beings, things are less clear, but if we aren’t going to use sentience as our relevant factor, it is hard to think of what else we might be able to use. We can’t really use complexity, or intelligence, or behaviour in any way that would apply across organisms.

Theoretically though, I am not opposed to rights for insentient beings. Why shouldn’t a 500 year old Oak have the right to exist? Why shouldn’t a whole forest, a stretch of wetlands, an ocean? At the very least we can consider insentient beings to have interests in the sense that we should factor their existence into our decision-making on issues like land use and climate policy.

Personally, I’d love to have more discussions among vegans about the relevance of sentience, and what rights (if any) might be desirable for other forms of life, particularly plants. The problem is that we don’t really have the space to have these discussions because we’re endlessly fighting off the bad faith arguments of plant sentience from meat eaters. They want to talk about this because they see it as a way for meat eaters to (counter-intuitively)kill and consume both animals and vast numbers of plants, regardless of whether or not they are sentient.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 63 ~ Death's Deaf Ears

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 5.9k

In this chapter ~ Grief was an odd thing, and it seemed to come when someone least expected it. As Rose mourned the loss of a girl who had truly touched her heart, she finds that the hits just keep on coming as yet another person falls victim to their fate.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Numb. That's all I felt. Utterly and painfully numb.

After Beth died right in front of my eyes, something changed. Losing her was something I never thought I would ever experience, but here I was, continuously living my life without her. I didn't know how I would move on from this; I didn't even know if I could move on. It seemed like the most impossible thing in the world. She was always this little light at the end of a very dark tunnel, so positive, happy, and having her ripped away from me was one of the hardest things I think I would ever have to experience.

Daryl kept his promise; we buried her. I couldn't stop crying as I watched the dirt being piled on top of her, nor could Maggie. I still could hardly look at her, feeling ashamed and guilty as if it were somehow my fault. All I remember was Glenn holding her tight as Gabriel said some words from the bible, a moment of silence following after he was done.

Although the silence wasn't exactly silent.

Maggie and I sobbed throughout the entire thing as the others around us let a few tears spill as well for the loss. I remember just staring at her grave and nothing else, thinking about the last moments I had with her. Though no amount of time would've ever been enough. I was so angry. She was the last person on earth that deserved to pass so cruelly, and I hoped to God that the bitch who killed her rotted in hell forever.

Her funeral was two weeks ago, but somehow that's all I could remember. I stopped paying attention to where we were going. I stopped attempting to eat much of anything. I stopped caring about everything as a whole. The only thing I found I started to do, was push people away. I didn't have the energy to talk...I didn't even have the energy to care.

I distanced myself from them every chance I got. To be completely honest I didn't know why I was doing it, I was just completely heartbroken, and it felt like it was the only way I could cope. Nobody could say or do anything to make the pain go away, or to make me feel better at all. I just followed them wherever they decided to go, not caring about which direction we went or where our final destination would land. I was just trying to survive.

The group talked about the difference between surviving and living one night around the fire that one long winter, and I think I was finally starting to understand what they meant. Living is actually enjoying the life and opportunities you're given, basking in it almost, but surviving is just...surviving. You're just moving, eating, and drinking to stay alive, not for a purpose. It was depressing but it was true.

Over time, everyone was starting to get the hint that I wanted to be left alone...well, everyone except Daryl. He could never seem to leave my side no matter what. Every time I would go off into the woods by myself to have some peace and quiet, he would wordlessly follow right behind me. He would offer me the rest of his food when he noticed I didn't eat much. He somehow was always clung to my side, worry only consuming him more every passing day when he looked at me.

Don't get me wrong, I loved this man more than anything in this world, but I didn't want him to be constantly hovering over me the way he was, and he sure as hell knew that. He knew how badly I wanted to be left alone, but he just wouldn't allow it as if he feared I would just walk right up to a walker and let it attack me. I wasn't suicidal by any means, even though it wouldn't be that mind blowing if I was. I just needed space, desperately wanting him to understand that.

But I never put up much of a fight whenever the familiar pattern occurred, because I knew if I did, I would absolutely lose it. With everything I was bottling up inside, I knew I would freak out on him, and that wasn't something he deserved. But holy shit was he testing my patience.

That's why when I overheard the group mention something about a place that Noah wanted to visit, his old neighborhood, I wordlessly got up to join them. It took them all a bit by surprise that I was willing to come along, but they didn't seem to question it as I figured they silently appreciated the extra hands to help out. But the truth was I just needed to get away.

It was as if I were constantly suffocating when I was here with the rest of the group. So, it felt like a breath of fresh air when we all finally piled into the car, silently heading towards the old sanctuary that Noah was so anxious to see.

I sat in the very back of the vehicle next to Glenn, briefly hearing the conversation Ty and Noah were having all the way up front as I stared off into space. Though their voices were too muffled to make out any clear kind of word. Leaning my head against the coolness of the window, my tired eyes watched the trees pass by in a flash with how fast we were moving.

Tears slipped from my eyes as they usually did, from the utter exhaustion and depressive feeling that constantly weighed me down, but I just subconsciously wiped them away as more came to fall down my cheeks. It had sadly become a regular habit that haunted me, not knowing anymore if I was crying because my body was begging for sleep, or if I was crying because of the crushing loss. Perhaps it was both.

These past couple weeks I've just been a complete mess of emotions all the time, and I was growing tired of seeing how everyone else looked at me. All I saw was nothing but pity in their eyes every damn time, and I hated it. I didn't want or need anyone to feel sorry for me, but they still did anyways, and I found I had to tell myself that it was something that I unfortunately couldn't control.

Glenn continuously kept subtly stealing glances at me every time I moved my hand up to wipe my cheeks, watching it happen from the corner of my eye. Not even needing to look over and see his face, I sensed his eyebrows were knitted together in concern. They always were.

His hand then hesitantly moved over toward me, landing gently on my knee as he gave it a light squeeze, trying to offer some sort of comfort. My eyes looked over to him, seeing him sending me a small, yet reassuring smile, but I only scooted further away from his touch.

My gaze panned back out the window, my head now turned completely away from him as I heard him sigh quietly in defeat. I didn't let it bother me though as I started to absentmindedly play with Beth's bracelet that was now on my wrist.

Looking down at the woven colorful strings, made me think of the very moment I gave it to her. It was during one of the nights we spent together talking for hours on end, remembering her mentioning how her friends used to make cheap friendship bracelets, and she missed old times like that. So, on the next run I went on, I made sure to keep an eye out for any kind of string so I could make her something special just like she had in the old world.

When I found the supplies and made it for her, she was absolutely overjoyed to see the bright strings tied together to make a colorful band just like the one she had in the past. It hit me then and there that she was one of the few people I would do just about anything for. Like hunting down that new guitar and teaching her more songs, or singing with her in front of the group just to make her happy, or making sure to take care of Judith when she needed a little break.

More tears pooled in my eyes at the thought of never doing anything special for her again. Never having the late night talks we used to share, or never hearing her sing ever again. I was going to miss her voice. She was such a pure soul, and now she was gone. Ripped away selfishly from all of us forever.

Sighing to myself, I wiped my eyes once again and tried to stop my emotions from spilling all over the place, wanting to gather myself as much as I could as to not let Glenn see me completely break down. Luckily the car coming to a halt snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked around to see that we had finally made it after the long drive.

We all climbed out of the car and I trailed behind everyone as they led the way, a machine gun held loosely in my hands. It was a longer walk through the trees before we finally came up to the gated neighborhood, Glenn being the first one to climb up and peer over to the inside. Though he only seemed to glance around the street on the other side for a moment or two, before looking back down towards us and shaking his head sadly.

For some reason, it didn't click in my mind back at the hospital what Rick was talking about when he mentioned Noah wanting to go home. But I understood now, wanting to get back to his community that he was once ripped away from, the family and friends that he thought were here waiting for him. But we all silently knew just by Glenn's action meant that none of them made it through something that happened recently.

Noah's eyes widened as the realization hit him like a bus, quickly limping over toward the opposite side of the guarded place, hopping over the edge to see for himself what was left inside. We all followed his lead quickly as we didn't know where he would go, rushing over the gate just as he was nearly jogging down the streets, desperately trying to see if anyone was left alive.

The kid didn't stop, not even when Rick called out for him quietly, only slowing down the second he saw a few dead bodies ahead lying on the concrete, along with a few walkers wandering around on the grass. He broke down completely and fell to the ground, starting to sob in the middle of the street at the loss of his people. My heart broke for him, knowing the feeling all too well when we all got separated back at the prison. Thinking your family is dead- or worse, knowing your family is dead, is just about the worst feeling in the entire world.

The walkers that were still lingering around the area suddenly began to take notice of the sobbing boy, their eyes then panning over to the rest of us in pure hunger and desperation. I watched as Michonne wordlessly took out her sword to take care of them before they could get any closer to us, but I stopped her with a wave of my hand.

"I got them." I muttered under my breath, taking out a few knives as they only inched closer.

Four of them managed to make their way over, spread out from each other, making it easier for me to take them on. I gripped the knife in my hand tightly before chucking it at one of their heads, watching it slowly fall to its knees before completely crashing onto the concrete below.  I easily killed another, spinning around out of its reach right before it could grab me, kicking its leg out from under it before stabbing it in the back of the head.

I quickly retrieved my other knife from the dead walker's head, before stabbing the next one coming at me straight through its eye. Though with everything going on, my attention being drawn in too many different directions, I seemed to lose sight of the fourth. But right as that thought ran through my mind, familiar loud growls were heard from just behind my frame, giving me no chance to react.

In the split second I whipped around to face the monster, the steel of a sword was going straight through its head before it could sink its teeth into me, the blade almost poking me in the nose with how close it was to my face. The walker fell harshly to the ground by my boots when the weapon was retracked back, revealing Michonne huffing like she had to rush over to make it just in time.

I scoffed as I put my knives back in place around my hips, "I told you had it." I spoke stubbornly.

She looked slightly taken aback, "You had it, huh?" she asked, following me the moment I tried to walk away, "You got a death wish or something? I was helping you."

"Don't." I snapped, turning around to face her again, "I don't recall the last time I needed anyone's supervision, I'm fine."

She surprisingly wasn't frustrated at my snappy tone, her calmness never fading as she looked at me with the same damn pity I had been witnessing constantly. "You didn't need to take that on alone."

I silently knew the double meaning behind her words, and it just made me scoff, "I'm fine." I repeated before I continued to walk away.

But the more I began to think, the faster I got my second wind, turning around with a pointed finger in her direction, "You think I haven't noticed the way everyone's been staring at me lately? Like I'm so fragile or something that you have to tiptoe around me. But I'm the same exact person that's dealt with one loss after another...and this isn't any different."

I felt my face get hot with how much emotion was suddenly filling my voice, spinning around on my heel the second my sentence was finished so she wouldn't see me crumble. I knew she was just trying to help, but again, I didn't need people thinking that I was weak just because I lost somebody important.

My steps became slowly hesitant as I approached the group once more, seeing Noah in the same spot on the ground as he cried with his head in his hands. Though Rick saw me coming out of the corner of his eye, walking up to speak to me lowly.

"Listen, we're planning on picking through a few houses to gather up what we can. Try and get Noah back on his feet to come back with us...you good with that?"

I shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"It does." he insisted.

I didn't bother to answer him as I just simply turned around to head into the few houses that were the closest to me, wanting to grab whatever was left inside before we were ultimately back on the road with the others. I hadn't brought my bag, but I could only assume there would be at least one in the houses I picked through, something to carry everything back. Rick called after me, but I just ignored him and kept going, itching to finally be alone for once in what felt like forever.

I walked up to the closest structure I saw and went in through the garage. I opened and shut the door loudly behind me to alert any potential walkers inside to make themselves known. But when I was only met with silence, I took that as my cue to head in deeper as I trucked up the stairs into the living room. Right away I spotted an old backpack hanging on a doorhandle, peeking inside to see if there was anything useful, but it was only a few crumpled folders and a poetry book. I scanned the cover, the title seeming to intrigue me a bit as I decided to keep it before slinging the bag over my shoulder to look for supplies.

I raided through the kitchen and was only met with one can of beans and two cans of corn left in the cabinets. Down the hall were a few extra rooms to pick through as I silently hoped to have a little more success. I checked out the bathroom first, wanting to see if there was some medication I could bring back. All I was met with were some empty pill bottles and some really expired tums, but I did a double take when I looked in the mirror.

It was safe to say I looked terrible. There were bags under my eyes that could carry someone's groceries, and the cuts on my cheek and neck were almost completely healed; but scarred like a mother fucker. Though I was silently thankful that whoever stitched me up at the hospital picked the stiches that dissolve on their own so I wouldn't have to worry about taking them out myself. That would've been a bitch to do.

I then headed toward the few bedrooms that had yet to be checked, finding the master didn't have much to offer other than a few clean shirts that I managed to take. Even the bathroom attached to the space hardly had anything at all, but I was lucky enough to find some tampons. Lord only knows how scarce those were. I put the box in my bag whilst I looked toward the remaining bedrooms, one looking to be a child's. There was clearly nothing worth taking from there which led me to the final room on the right, assuming it was a teenagers based on the decorations.

My eyes scanned to see the space was pretty clean, but my attention was immediately drawn to the object that sat tall on the twin bed. A guitar.

A lump formed in my throat as I looked at the instrument, biting the inside of my cheek to try to keep myself together. I felt my shoulders sag in defeat as I slowly lowered myself to sit on the ground, exhaling a shaky breath as I thought about the one girl that hadn't left my mind for one second in the passing weeks. She was everywhere. Everywhere I looked there would be some sort of sign that she was there with me.

The first night after she passed, I had to move away from the sleeping group because I couldn't stop sobbing, fearing I was being too loud. It was the only time I was able to sneak off without Daryl following close behind me, feeling as though I could actually get away. I didn't know if he did it on purpose or if he just didn't realize. But in the back of my mind, I knew that he was aware, he just wanted me to have a moment to mourn by myself.

I walked further into the woods as I tried desperately to pull myself back together, my head tilting up toward the sky in attempt to stop the waterfall of tears from falling. But that action caused me to catch a glimpse of a shooting star passing through the night sky, just like the first night I had grieved the loss of Hershel. It was like her own little sign of telling me that not only was she safe, but she was with her dad again. And it only made me cry harder.

After that, the signs just kept appearing over and over. Like a single flower blooming in the middle of a dead, yellow field. Or when I came across a tree with just the single letter B carved into the wood of the trunk. And now this guitar sitting before me, almost mocking me. She was everywhere I looked, and I didn't know whether to find comfort or sadness in that aspect.

My head then snapped up when I heard the sound of the door beside me creaking open, seeing Glenn standing there with a sorrowful look on his face. I mentally groaned that he was witnessing this yet again, looking away from him as I dried my eyes, feeling him come to sit down right beside me without uttering a word.

I didn't know if I wanted his company or not, but frankly my mind was too scrambled to even think about it for too long. So, I let him stay. He was silent for a while as I put myself together again, before his gaze landed on the one thing I kept glancing back to, hearing him sigh to himself in defeat.

"I miss her too."

"Stop." I cut him off, sniffling and pulling up my sleeves to help dry my cheeks.

He shook his head insistently, "Ro, you don't have to go through this alone, just let us help-"

"I'm still grieving." I breathed, now looking over at him, "Have you said any of this to Maggie? Have you even uttered a word to her about Beth?"

His silence spoke louder than my own voice did, and he didn't need to say a word for me to know the answer. "I didn't think so." I muttered.

Another long and loud silence passed as he truly didn't know what to say to me anymore. It made me think about how the hell we even got here, the losses we've taken only driving us further apart while we mourned in different ways.

"I'm sorry." he finally whispered, "I know how close you were with her, but-"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head, "But nothing. I was close with her, and then I lost her, and now I'm grieving...end of story."

"But you don't need to do it alone." he nearly pleaded.

I shook my head again in disbelief, "You don't get it." I let out a breathy, humorless laugh, "I was alone my whole life...I never got too close to anyone, and that's the only way I knew. I've never lost anybody like this before, not one this tragic. All of you can understand what it feels like to lose someone important...but I have no idea what it's like. This is all so new to me...losing someone I cherished so much. And...I need to figure it out on my own."

When I finally got the nerve to look him in the eye after spilling my heart out, there was a clear mist of tears glistening in his eyes at the feeling I described, easily sensing he wanted nothing more but to wrap me in a tight hug. But he didn't. He was scared it would only make me uncomfortable, push me away further, so he just stayed put as he thought about his next words carefully.

"Daryl slipped up one night...a long time ago about how, um..." he swallowed thickly, "About how you tried to run after Sophia died." he quietly admitted.

My eyes slightly widened as I made a mental note to kill Daryl later. "I just- I don't know...I guess I'm just making sure you don't run this time...because I can't lose you too, Ro."

His emotions were clear as day as he fully bared his soul to me it seemed like, my heart nearly shattering at the thought of him worrying that I would just disappear. I didn't want him to think that, I didn't want anyone to think that. I just needed to process all the emotions and difficulties for however long it took. I wasn't going to just run away, because the truth was, that would break me even more.

"I'm not going to run," I promised as I looked over at him sadly, "I'm staying right here...I just need some time...okay?"

He nodded slowly, "Okay..."

But the moment we were having, even if it was a small one, was completely cut short as the front door of the house opened and closed with a slam, followed by rushed footsteps until Rick suddenly appeared in the doorway, "Come on! Tyreese was bit!" he spoke in a panic.

Barely even processing the words he was saying, his franticness was all it took for me to jump to my feet and sprint behind the man to get out of the house as quickly as we could. My legs were moving faster and faster as my heart was harshly beating out of my chest. I didn't care how badly my lungs burned or how tired I felt from the lack of rest I'd been getting; I was determined to get to him. To save him.

We all rushed inside the house to find him in one of the bedrooms, laying on the floor and bleeding out profusely. All the color was drained from his face as he had a hazy look in his eye like he was about to pass out from the blood loss. Rick hurried over and pulled his arm out as far as he could, catching a glimpse of where the bite mark was embedded in his flesh. Though it didn't even look like the movement had affected him at all as he laid there almost limply.

Michonne quickly whipped out her sword and with one swipe, she was able to cut his limb clean off. I just stood there in shock, not being able to move or even breathe as I watched them slice his arm completely from his body. I told myself I'd save him, but I couldn't even do that. The scene was so gruesome and horrible, almost too much to even fathom right now.

Rick and Glenn didn't hesitate to find some kind of sheet to wrap around what was left of his arm to slow down the bleeding, before then hauling him up to help him out of the house, the man's weight resting heavily on their shoulders. I snapped out of my sudden trance as soon as they brushed passed me, not hesitating to follow them out of the house and back down towards the gate.

I kept up them as the two practically jogged with him in their grasp, the others just behind us as the gate was slowly coming into view, yet just out of reach. But we had to think fast, climbing back over wasn't exactly an option and the gate was chained shut, the sound of walkers now on the other side as they tried to claw their way in.

"We have to break the lock!" Rick yelled.

I nodded frantically, rushing over to fumble with the thick chains before they finally became loose enough to open up the large wooden doors, sending the walkers from the outside piling in toward us. I reached for my bow and started to fire arrows at the ones coming our way while Noah held Tyreese up and away from the chaos, trying to get him to keep his eyes open.

The rest of us fought off the corpses one by one so we could make our way through, needing to get him back to the car as fast as possible. We managed to kill them off within only seconds, Rick and Glenn quickly turning back to help him up as the rest of us ran ahead to make sure the area was clear. We booked it towards the car through the familiar route we took earlier, my eyes constantly darting back multiple times to see Ty still awake, yet barely conscious.

Killing a few more dead ones along the way, we eventually all picked him up one limb at a time while Noah directed us back to the vehicle just ahead of us. The pace we were once going was far too slow, and when we saw the amount of his blood staining the sheet that he held loosely, we knew we had to pick up the pace. I felt the sadness building as I tried to hold it together, shaking my head to try and prevent it from happening. He had to stay alive. I couldn't lose myself in my emotions if I wanted him to stay alive.

After what felt like ages, we finally made it to the van, pushing myself to get in first to help lower him onto the middle row so he would be laying down flat on his back. I held onto his legs while his head was resting on the opposite window, Glenn and Michonne quickly climbing over to get in the back. Rick ran around to the front as Noah got in the passenger seat and as soon as the kid closed the door with a slam, Rick floored it to race back to the others.

My chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, looking over at Tyreese's face to see his eyes start to grow heavy, my hand immediately tapping on his leg so he wouldn't pass out.

"Come on Ty, stay awake." I said, trying hard to hide the desperation in my voice.

He lazily opened his eyes once again and I sighed in relief, "We're getting closer, just hold on. You're going to be okay...you're going to be fine."

I kept lightly tapping his leg, praying that he would stay conscious as my other hand moved to now put more pressure on his gaping wound. The car swerved around back and forth aggressively, Rick trying to speed as fast as he could to make it back. I could hear Noah yelling the directions at him frantically, which ways to turn, but it all just ended up fuzzy in my mind, not being able to focus on anything as my mind spiraled.

My gaze shifted down once more to check on him again, but his eyes were now completely closed. I tried to keep calm as I saw his state, tapping on his leg a bit harder to get his eyes to flutter open again.

"Ty?" I asked.

He didn't flinch.

"Ty? Tyreese, open your eyes."

Rick's head spun around at the sound of my words, hearing him sigh dreadfully in defeat, but I didn't give up as I only shook him harder in the bumpiness of the car. "Tyreese you have to open your eyes. Open your eyes. Come on." I begged.

I felt the car begin to slow down to a stop and instinctively looked out the window to see we were pulled over onto the side of the road. Panic flooded through me, quickly hopping out of the car along with everyone else. They all pulled Tyreese out of the van, but he still stayed unresponsive, my eyes widening as I instantly pushed Noah and Glenn out of the way and got down on my knees next to him.

I leaned down to rest my ear against his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat, but was met with nothing. No. He wasn't going to die. I quickly shot back up and folded my hands together, starting to firmly push over his heart to start CPR, mentally counting to thirty as I tuned everything else out.

"Rosie." I heard Rick's distant voice from behind me, but I ignored him.

I kept counting silently in my head, tilting his head up to breathe into his mouth twice before going back to push on his chest, counting again. I briefly heard them talking around me, but I couldn't bring myself to hear, focusing on him and him alone to try and keep him alive.

"Rose." Rick tried again, sadness filling his voice.

I ignored him once more as I aggressively pressed on Tyreese's chest again and again, before suddenly feeling his hand wrap around my arm in attempt to pull me back, "No." I snapped, ripping myself out of his hold to keep going.

I felt his hand pull me again, "No! Rick, no!" I yelled as I fought to get away from his grasp.

"Rose, come on." he spoke quietly.

His voice and protests meant nothing to me. I couldn't let him die. But both of his hands suddenly brought my arms back, pulling me away from his body, "No! I can save him! Please!" I screamed as I thrashed around to try and get out of his hold.

But he didn't let me go, slowly inching me further away from him, "I can save him! I can save him Rick, please!" I pleaded desperately as tears began to stream down my face once more.

He got down on his knees and held me back by my shoulders as I saw Michonne slowly walking over towards his head. "No! No, please don't! Let me save him!"

But my words only fell on deaths deaf ears, everyone around me sadly ignoring my protests as they all knew what needed to be done. I kept fighting, begging for them to listen to me, squirming harshly in Rick's arms as he tried to shush me.

"Don't look Rosie...don't look." he whispered right beside my ear, his arms squeezing me softly.

And before I could even bat an eye, Michonne quickly stabbed Tyreese in the head with her sword in one swift motion, squeezing her eyes shut as she listened to my sobs.

"No!" I yelled, watching his blood trickle down her weapon as my vison only blurred more with tears.

Rick gently pulled me closer to his chest as I continued to cry, whispering reassuring things that only I could hear, but I couldn't be bothered to listen. My eyes didn't stray away from Tyreese's dead body in front of me, feeling a fantom weight beginning to crush me at yet another person I couldn't save.

I mindlessly watched from a distance as Gabriel once again read from the bible at another dreadful funeral. Everyone around his grave was taking turns to scoop some dirt to cover him more and more, but I just couldn't force myself to do it. My eyes were puffy, my stomach churned as I felt like I could throw up with how much not only I've lost, but what we've all lost. I could see so clearly that everyone was holding on by a thread, and I was only finding myself closer to my own breaking point.

My eyes lingered on Sasha as she fiddled with the necklace that used to be around Tyreese's neck and brought it to her lips to kiss, the beanie he always wore being placed on the makeshift cross above where he would rest peacefully. It couldn't have been more devastating.

Looking up, I saw that Gabriel was finished and people were slowly starting to disperse after their silent goodbyes. Finding myself leaving as quickly as I could. Not because I wanted to, but because I could hardly stand to look at the scene any longer. My steps were slow and heavy as I began to walk back to the makeshift camp we had set up, but I quickly felt a presence lingering behind me. And I didn't need to turn around to know who it was, the sting of his eyes on me was all too familiar.

He wanted to say something to me, I could sense how desperately he was trying to find the right words. But the truth was, we hadn't uttered a thing to each other since Beth, and I silently knew he had no idea how to even approach me anymore. However, that was the least of my concerns. He was breathing, and that seemed to be all that mattered to me.

All I could focus on now, was surviving.

~ Thanks for reading! (Whew, this one was hard to get through just like the last. It really doesn't get easier does it?)

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