#rori writes

[maknaeswrld]

there | h.js

I'm thinking about you, in this place without you, in this placе where we usеd to be together, I still think of you all the time

wc: 7.4k

genre: childhood best friends to strangers to ???; gn!reader; idiots in love; fluff; angst.

cw: slight mentions of parenthood (they’re not parents); mentions of marriage; broken promises?; secrets; paced throughout the entirety of their career up to date (2023); panic attack; roomies are based of my irls; Eve actually has amazing luck and gets her bias in legit every single album; was not initially inspired by There, that song just really freaking fits this story

roadmap: starts in present; jumps back to pre-debut; tracks readers perspective throughout the years; ends back in present (The SOUND + 5 Star era)

Friendships don’t always end because of things you can’t come back from, they don’t always end in a spectacular burst of harsh words and emotions. A majority of the time, they end due to distance, fizzling slowly until it dies out all together, people with shared memories and experiences becoming virtual strangers.

But should that mean the promises you made to one another should die along with it?

You had never thought so, which is what brought you to this crowded stadium, standing amongst people who are a little too much like you, watching the man that you once knew better than you knew yourself performing, shining brighter than the sun. 

Han Jisung was where he was meant to be, doing what he loved with friends that get to share the experience. Friends that are important to him and you believe always will be. Unlike you.

Sure, the version of you he last knew all those years ago is likely still a fond memory to him, you’re sure he thinks about you at least every once in a while, wonders what you’re doing now—at least you hope he does. 

Truth is, being an idol doesn’t leave space for that kind of stuff. It’s isolating work; family, friendships outside of your members and other idols, a private life, it’s hard to maintain, which is why you never took it personally when the daily calls turned to weekly texts, monthly updates, and eventually nothing at all.

There were times you were tempted to message him, tell him you’re proud of him, that you miss him. But frankly, you don’t even know if he still has your number, or if the one you have is still his.

The albums littering your bookshelf that you had bought and spent hours listening to together had been joined by untouched copies of basically any Stray Kids album you could get your hands on. His photocards were now littered amongst the polaroids and cut up school yearbook pictures the two of you decorated your old bedroom walls with, all of them somehow surviving your move to America.

Sometimes you wonder what he’d think if he’d see your room now. The Jisung you knew would’ve joked with you, asking if you were secretly in love with him or if you just finally accepted he was the prettier best friend. But the Jisung in the photocards was a stranger to you. You felt more like a fan, a fellow Stay harboring a parasocial relationship with eight boys that you’ll likely never speak to, than you did an old friend.

But you were content with it all. Your best friend will always be your best friend, even if you never have another movie night with asinine amounts of junk food. Even if you never again get to see his unruly curls in the midday lighting as you eat breakfast together at lunch time. Even if your children only ever know him by your stories and his stage persona.

Promises were sacred to you, so even when you are painfully aware you’re no longer his best friend, you keep the promise you made all those years ago to your best friend. You support him with no question or hesitation. So when you heard Stray Kids were performing in your city, you didn’t hesitate to buy the overpriced ticket.

````

“How crazy would it be if Chan-hyung’s idea actually works? Think about it, your best friend could be an idol someday!”

You laughed at his quiet excitement. During his time at JYP Entertainment as a trainee, you’d grown fond of his two friends, Chan and Changbin, having quickly become 3Racha’s first fan and biggest supporter.

“I can’t wait to tell interviewers embarrassing stories from your childhood.”

“Go right ahead, you were by my side for all of them so they’re your embarrassing stories too!”

The both of you laughed, knowing he was right, and while the banter continued on like that, discussing the what if’s of Chan’s success, you couldn’t help but start to wonder where you’d truly fit into the narrative.

Bang Chan had gotten tired of sitting on the sidelines, patiently waiting his turn, quietly holding his breath every time groups were formed, hoping his name would be amongst them. You knew he’d been there longer than anyone, he likely knew more people in the industry personally than you could hope to even as a fan, and he knew how to have a successful group, he’d seen enough of them come out of his time as a trainee. So you hadn’t been shocked when Jisung had told you about his idea and he systematically started hand picking eight other trainees and approaching them with it, starting with Jisung and Changbin.

You hadn’t officially met the others Chan had chosen, but you had seen them practicing when you brought Jisung his lunch that he had forgotten at your place. 

For a rag tag group thrown together by a trainee, they were pretty good already and you could see them being very successful one day.

````

“You’re gonna come to all our shows, right?”

Jisung was starting to get nervous about the plan. It’s been going well thus far, they had been chosen to debut but were now being put through the ringer to ensure they were to the companies standards. 

The boys had barely taken any breaks since being tasked with composing and choreographing a song entirely by themselves. You’d heard Jisung practicing non-stop, even while you were supposed to be having movie night. You knew he was more nervous than he’d own up to, but you also knew when he set his mind to something, he’d see it through to the end.

“All of them sounds unrealistic, Ji.” He pouted at your response, obviously disappointed. You just chuckled and shook your head. “How about this, I pinky promise swear that no matter what, I will attend every single show put on, in my area. Okay? Even if we get into some devastating argument and never talk again, even if we somehow lose communication and haven’t spoken in years, even if we get married and I four rugrats to deal with, I’ll be at every single one near me. Deal?” You held your pinky out for him to link his with.

“Three things. One, are you in love with me or something? You want my kids, Y/n/n~?” You both laughed as he teased you, tickling your sides, before he got serious. “Secondly, I’ll never let either of those other things happen. Ever. You’re my best friend. Nothing, not even becoming an idol, is going to change that. You are so stuck with me for the rest of your miserable life.”

“Does that mean marriage isn’t off the table for you?” You interrupted him, attempting to tease him back.

“If it means never losing you, I’ll put a ring on it right here, right now.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the complete sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re never gonna lose me either way, Ji.” You said softly, watching as his face softened before he finally linked his pinky with yours.  

“Then every show near you sounds good enough for me.” He kissed the back of your hand, pinkies still linked together, and you kissed his, sealing the promise.

````

The crowd held its breath as they awaited the final judgment on the fate of Stray Kids. 

You didn’t know Minho or Felix very well at all, having only spent a handful of short lived conversations in each others company, but the way Jisung had cried until he passed out and slept through the night on your couch after Minho had been eliminated from the group, and then shortly after did it again for Felix, you didn’t have to know them personally to know you needed all nine boys to be accepted. Stray Kids were nine, and you didn’t think you could accept it any other way.

So to say the relief and joy you felt at the announcement that they would debut as nine felt all consuming would probably be an understatement. All you wanted to do was drag the boys into a big hug and congratulate them.

As they finally left the stage, you couldn’t hold yourself back from running to meet a relieved and ecstatic Jisung. 

“We did it!” He yelled, catching you in his arms and swinging you around. He set you down, his hands moving to cup both sides of your face, squishing your cheeks gently and shaking you. “We actually did it, Y/n/n! We’re debuting!” 

“I know Ji, I saw.” You laughed, returning his gesture. You quickly made your rounds, congratulating the rest of the boys and hugging Minho and Felix tightly, before returning to Jisungs side and joining them for their celebrations.

````

The boys got pretty busy pretty fast after that and the time spent with your best friend decreased rapidly, but he always texted you every chance he got and would call or skype you as he was settling down for the night. Oftentimes, his phone would get high-jacked and passed around through his members while his protests could be heard in the background. You weren’t as close with the rest of them as you were with Jisung, but they had quickly become your boys and you couldn’t be prouder of all of them and prouder to call them your friends. 

Which just made it hurt all the worse when the nightly chaos calls slowly turned into weekly at best calls. 

You understood, you wouldn’t feel like a very good friend if you didn’t, but you still missed all of them like crazy. You wished you could be by their side instead of watching from the sidelines. 

A part of you knew you could be, that you didn’t have to put yourself through this pain if you just owned up and confessed. But telling your best friend since diapers that you’re in love with him, even if you’re pretty damn sure it’s mutual, is too terrifying a concept to consider. 

You knew being an idols partner would be stressful, but it would also give you a lot more time to spend with the boys. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, the risk of you being wrong and him not feeling the same weighing too heavily. The best case scenario would be you were right, you’d never have to leave your best friend's side, you’d be at every show like he’d wanted, you’d be there for everything; but worst scenario, you lose your best friend and the boy you love in one swoop, as well as the rest of your closest friends. 

You’d rather deal with the spotty texts and irregular calls than creating an unfixable rift.

````

Despite the damn near radio silence you’d endured while they traveled their first year as an actual group, you still made sure to keep the promise you’d made and bought a ticket to a small local show they’d be doing. 

You texted Jisung a picture of the ticket, not really expecting a response and being pleasantly surprised when he texted back a very Jisung response. 

SUNGIE: I knew you were secretly in love with me

Followed by a string of unrelated emojis. Your phone buzzed again with another text.

SUNGIE: the boys want to know if you’d be down to get food and catch up after the show, I already told them yes, you don’t have a choice, I miss my best friend

You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that arose in your chest at his messages, he was right for accepting on your behalf, you would never turn down the opportunity to spend time with your friends, but especially not Jisung.

You typed up a quick reply, agreeing and telling him you’d see them all at the concert.

The rest of the week couldn’t go by fast enough. Texts with Jisung had become a little more regular again, both of you excited for some time together, and you’d even gotten a call in. You were counting down the minutes to the concert, antsy to see your friends again.

Your roommate helped you pick out an outfit for the concert because “there’s no way you’ll be representing in jeans and a t-shirt, we’re going to look sexy as fuck.” and you couldn’t find it in you to argue. 

When the night finally arrived and you were situated next to your roommate not far from the stage, you couldn’t shake the anxiousness at seeing them again. They were your friends, and they always would be, but you wondered how much they’d changed in the year you’d been separated; you wondered if they’d still act like your friends.

Your fears were relieved fairly quickly as they finally took the stage. It only took about three songs for Felix to spot you, lighting up the moment he did and running around to inform the others. Throughout the show they each took moments to find you to wave subtly. It eased your mind knowing they seemed as happy to see you as you were them.

After the show, you and your roommate waited until most of the crowd died off before you said your goodbyes, your roommate heading for the exit as you headed towards the side of the stage, grinning and walking faster when you noticed Jisung peeking around the corner and waving when he spotted you.

You threw your arms around him the second you got to him, happy to finally have your best friend back.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the boys to crash your reunion, quickly dragging you into a group hug. 

“Hey back off! This is my bestie, all of you can go find your own.” Jisung pouted, but you could see how his eyes softened as his eight new best friends embraced you and accepted you as a part of their little family.

````

“Woojin, who has been with Stray Kids as a member until this time, has left the group due to personal circumstances and terminated his exclusive contract.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you read the headline. You had just had lunch with all of the boys a few weeks prior and everything seemed fine, they were excited for their blossoming career together. Not one of them, not even Jisung, had let on to anything. 

You felt you had at least a bit of a reason to feel hurt, they were your closest friends and you had to learn one was splitting from the group through a gossip site. Before you could think, you were outside the boys dorm, hand raised to knock, when voices stopped you when you heard your name, making a mental note to tell the boys to shut their windows.

“I just don’t understand why we didn’t tell Y/n.” Jisung sounded defeated.

“It’s not that we didn’t want to, Hannie, it’s just that the least outsiders that know the truth, the better.” “Y/n isn’t an outsider! They’re my best friend, they wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

“We just, we can’t guarantee that. I love them, they’re a wonderful friend, but they’re not a part of this world Han. They wouldn’t understand and we can’t risk it. The next few months are going to be hard enough on Stay, nine or none is dead and we’re tasked with moving along like it’s nothing, the last thing we need right now is anything getting misconstrued.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened in. You could understand where Chan was coming from, but it still hurt hearing he couldn’t bring himself to trust you.

You wiped your eyes and finally knocked, not wanting to just vanish. They were still your friends.

“Hey, you guys seriously need to remember to shut your windows, I could hear Changbin from the driveway.” You laughed as you let yourself in, hugging Chan as you passed him before joining Jisung on the couch. It wasn’t long before other members started filing into the living room, presumably to see you, but you suspected it was more due to the safety and assurance that Chan and Jisung were done with their conversation as long as you were present.

“I heard the news by the way, I’m sorry this is happening. But hey! Maybe some good news can lighten the room.” You took a deep breath, nervous knowing your news would absolutely not help anything. “I got a huge promotion at work.” You grinned, fiddling with your hands, which Jisung and Chan both picked up on immediately.

You hadn’t mentioned being up for promotion, mostly because you weren’t even positive you’d get it, let alone accept it, but with a world tour on the horizon for the boys, and now the addition of being reminded you weren’t anything more than a normal level friend, you figured why not, what would be keeping you in Seoul anyway?

Congratulations and excitement filled the room, you smiled, thanking everyone for being happy for you, but your smile faded when Jisung’s hands covered yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting. He refused to meet your eyes.

“What’s the bad news?” He asked softly, eyes glued to where his hands were holding yours.

The excitement in the room felt as if it was sucked out by a vacuum, you tried to smile, already shaking your head to say there wasn’t any, but it died on your throat when Jisung’s eyes finally met yours, his brown eyes shining as he looked at you. “Don’t lie to me, please.” He whispered.

You slouched in defeat. “It was meant to be exciting news to cheer everyone up, Sungie. I mean, it’s not necessarily bad news, per se, it could be a really great thing even, you know?”

Jisung cut off your rambling by squeezing your hand. Giving you a look that said ‘get on with it.’

“The promotion is to an American branch.”

````

Jisung had somehow convinced his management to give him enough time off to help you move, no matter how much you insisted he didn’t need to. 

You had been busy cleaning out your closet, packing what to keep and piling up things you didn’t, figuring you could donate them, with your music blasting, none the wiser to the eight boys standing in your doorway. 

“Do they always keep the music this loud?”

The shouted question startled you. You whipped around in shock before rushing to lower the volume to greet your friends.

“Yes. Yes they do.” Jisung grinned teasingly as he pulled you into a hug. “I brought some extra hands, hope you don’t mind.” He said before kissing the top of your head and releasing you, whistling as he looked at the walls, still covered in pictures of the both of you, and some with the rest of the guys.

Seungmin was pointing out ridiculous pictures of Jisung to Jeongin and Minho laughed as he noticed a baby picture of the younger member. 

“Hyung, maybe we should ask Y/n for young pictures of Han instead of him or his family.”

Jisung groaned at that and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I mean, there’s a lot of pictures here, so if you see any you’d like to keep, go for it. Most of them will likely just stay in a memory box while I’m overseas anyways.”

The look of utter betrayal Jisung shot you just made you laugh harder as you patted his shoulder and put all the boys to work.

````

“Y/N! STRAY KIDS RELEASED A NEW ALBUM!”

It had been a year since you moved to America, and a year with your new roomies, whom you loved dearly. Throughout that year, the Kids had been garnering more and more popularity. 

You learned Eve and Nat, twins that were complete opposites in almost every way, had watched the entire Elimination Show as it was airing and Nat actually cried in relief when it was announced they’d debut as nine; Noel, a blunt and chaotic content creator, was a bit picky and admittedly didn’t like all of their music, but she loved them as people and would flood the house group chat with reels and tiktoks, her bias is Chan; and it took a little while for Lia, a tiny italian, to get in to them, but Eve was adamant that all roomies had to be Stays and when the twins had K-pop blasting through the house pretty much non-stop, it’s hard not to get pulled in.

You still kept in contact with the boys to some extent, it wasn’t as drop out of touch as the first year was, but you could tell the distance was growing again. When the day came that you no longer contacted one another, you wouldn’t be surprised. You brought yourself to look at it as you were thankful for the extra time you were given, you’d assume most idols lose contact with people of their past life fairly quickly.

You had never told your roommates about your connection to the band, not because you didn’t trust them and adore them but because it felt too risky. They could try to use you to get to the boys, or just flat out tell you to take your delulu meds. It hurt, thinking your closest friends might abandon you because of that kind of knowledge, it helped you understand Chan a little more with the Woojin situation. 

Your door burst open, any semblance of privacy pretty well gone when it came to Eve’s excitement.

“Did you hear me?? A new album! They take such good care of us!” She fake cried dramatically as she sprawled out on your bed. 

Eve was followed shortly by Lia, holding a cup of coffee with six tally marks drawn on it, indicating it was her sixth cup of the day; and Noel carrying a camera, likely having filmed the entire invasion.

“Yes I heard, I think the whole neighborhood did.” You laughed, playing with the girls hair. “Are you going to play this new album or just continue to shout about it?”

Eve groaned. “We have to wait until stupid Nat gets home, who even made the stupid rule about new album drops having to be group listening parties anyways?” She grumbled as you and your other roommates tried to hold back your laughter.

“You did, babe.” Lia giggled, sipping her coffee and joining the two of you on your bed.

Life with them often meant no privacy, the amount of times all five of you have ended up sleeping in one bed for the night was crazy, seeing as you all have your own rooms. There were a lot of blurred lines within your house, but you loved it and wouldn’t change it for almost anything.

“So who is this in all your pictures anyways? I don’t think I’ve ever asked before.” Noel mumbled as she walked around your room, camera in hand.

“I’ll tell you if you don’t use that footage you’re getting.” You joked.

“Deal!” Lia agreed on her behalf, setting her mug down and wrestling the camera from Noel to shut off the recording.

“Tell us. We’ve all been dying to know. You never talk about your past.”

You hesitated for only a moment before relaxing into your pillows.

“His name is Jisung, in all the photos. He’s my best friend, we grew up together but we don’t talk all that much anymore. His career distanced him, and mine obviously didn’t help that. It’s simple as that. We talk maybe once every few months now.”

“Are you in love with your Jisung?” Eve asked, blue eyes staring up at you with a childlike twinkle.

“Yeah, I am.” 

The girls giggled and you hid your face in your pillow to avoid the teasing until Nat walked in, asking what was going on, and immediately getting updated. He joined in on the teasing, which thankfully only lasted until Eve remembered Stray Kids’ new album NOEASY.

````

“I swear, you being besties with a boy named Jisung gives you insane luck or something, how  are you always pulling Han? Honestly at this point I think you have just as many Han Jisung photo cards on your walls as you do pictures of your Jisung. You’re so lucky your bias is so easy for you to get. Five target exclusive albums and not ONE Felix photocard. Like, don’t get me wrong, I am perfectly content with my Changbin, Innie, and Seungmin cards, but how did not a single one of us pull a Lixie?!” Eve banged her head against the wall as she rambled.

Nat rolled his eyes at her and immediately got smacked by the girl tucked under his arm.

“Ow! What the hell Lia, I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t be rolling your eyes at my baby girl.” Lia said threateningly.

“For the last time, you’re dating me, not my sister, please stop calling her your baby girl.”

“Oh please, brother. I could steal your girl anytime I want and we all know it.” Eve giggled, finally snapping out of her rambling state to tease her brother. Lia blew her a kiss, sending her a wink.

“We can steal girlfriends another time, right now we’re going to be late for dinner, and we all know how James can get about his dinners.” Noel rolled her eyes at the trio as she put her camera away, having filmed everyone opening their albums. She has so much content of Lia and Eve flirting with each other that a good amount of her viewers have started theorizing that Nat is Lia’s beard.

James is the twins' father. After the twins had moved out he had insisted they come home once a week for a family dinner, the invite was quickly extended to the rest of the household as James seemed to systematically adopt everyone. You had never complained because it was a day off from feeding the household and because James was actually an amazing cook. 

```

“We’re going. I don’t care if I have to throw you all into my car forcefully, we are going to this concert.” Lia stated as the roommates were gathered in the living room looking at the tour dates announcement. “I don’t care if I have to drive the whole nine hours by myself, I am not missing this concert.”

Stray Kids were playing only a few states away and everyone but you had missed them the last time they’d been so close due to having already had tickets to something that same weekend. The only reason you hadn’t missed it was because you’d been in the city of the concert for business and delayed your flight a day to see them. You’d felt bad for seeing them without your roommates and best friends of three years, but you would have felt more bad breaking a promise to your best friend of much, much longer.

“And you!” Lia turned her eyes on you, pinning you with a scolding motherly glare. “No running off and seeing them by yourself again! We’re all going to see our boys and that is final.”

You weren’t about to argue with her, and no one else seemed to want to either, so everyone set reminders for the day tickets would go on sale and started plotting outfits for the concert.

```

The energy in the crowd was indescribable, the excitement all around you made the hairs on your arms stand up. You could feel nerves bubbling up in your stomach, yes you’d seen the boys plenty of times since you all lost touch, but you’d always actively avoided any seat that could potentially be seen from stage, but the tickets went on sale whilst you were in a crucial meeting and Lia, being the groups sugar momma, bought only the best she could get her hands on, landed you about three rows from front and center.

An excited hush fell over the crowd as the lights dimmed, everyone pressing forward just a little to try and get that much closer to the people coming up on the stage, but you just wanted to turn tail and run.

Nat grabbed your hand, squeezing it as if he could sense your nerves. It wouldn’t surprise you, of all your roommates, Nathaniel had always been the one to pick up on peoples emotions the easiest and he had always had a keen sense of awareness to things he shouldn’t be aware of.

The lights burst with the opening chords of the first song of the evening and an odd mixture of pride and nausea hits you as screams drown everything out and the boys finally come into proper view.

“Deep breaths honey. You’re okay.” Nat’s comforting voice whispers into your ear, his hands squeezing a little tighter, grounding you. “Just have fun, don’t worry about him.” 

Whipping your head to look at him, you see a knowing glint in his eyes and as he nods his head back towards the stage, you realized he’d pieced it together.

How does he know? Do they all know?

He smiles once more, squeezing again, before looking away and releasing you entirely, joining the throngs of people screaming and enjoying the show. You look back towards the stage, noting how much each of your old friends have changed over the years. 

You let your nerves slowly slip away as you let yourself enjoy the promise you’ve always upheld and support your friend by screaming along and dancing with the rest of the crowd.

```

Your anxieties of earlier had been completely forgotten by the time the halfway point hit. As the lights come up to allow people a small intermission to use the bathroom or get some water, you turned to your roommates, joining in the excited rambles of all they’ve witnessed so far, adding in your notes as well, stealing glances at the timer in the middle of the stadium periodically. But as you make eye contact with a pair of curious brown eyes peeking from backstage, you feel your stomach drop. Even from the distance you’re at, you can see the recognition flash in those big eyes as they widen before disappearing entirely behind the curtain. 

Just as you’re about to turn and make a hasty exit, those curious eyes return with another pair. 

Felix and Jeongin seem to freeze you in place. You watch as Jeongin’s eyes light up with familiarity, his hand quickly coming up to shoot you a small wave, you wave back, not even thinking, and his smile widens, eyes squinting, as he seems to bounce in place to contain his happiness. It melts your heart to see, realizing you truly have missed all of them, not just Jisung.

They both wave again before disappearing just as fast as they’d appeared. “Okay, what was that all about?” Lia whispers, her small hand gently holding your elbow to get your attention.

“I’m not entirely sure.” And it’s not a complete lie.

“Your Jisung is Han Jisung, isn’t it.” It’s not a question, not really, and you have no energy to try and hide it anymore. “Are you friends with all of them?”

“Was. I’m not sure I can claim being a friend to any of them anymore.”

“Well I would say you can because Lee fucking Felix and g’damn I.N. just waved at you.” 

“You don’t know it was at me.”

“Yes I do, and you do too. Don’t bullshit right now.

“It doesn’t even matter because they’ll finish this show, do the one tomorrow, and they’ll be gone and nothing will be different.”

Lia gave you a look that screamed she thought you were insane but before you could tell her that it’s just how it is, the lights dimmed again. The stadium hushed quickly, all noticing the timer wasn’t quite finished yet, then it stopped all together and a spotlight came on over a nervous looking Han Jisung, front and center, the other kids not too far behind him. 

He wasn’t facing you, but his eyes were scanning and he was turning slowly, while trying to look normal.

“This wasn’t exactly scheduled, and I’m sorry about that, but I just talked it over with the others and with the band and we’re going to perform There for all of you tonight. This song is, well it’s really important to me.”

With that, the opening chords start playing and Han's beautiful voice fills the hushed room.

Oh, I think of you, I only fall for you

Feels like a never-ending waterfall

Tears spring to your eyes. Ever since they’d released this song, you’d felt as if it was written for you. Your logical mind screamed it likely wasn’t, that it wouldn’t make sense for it to be. You’d had no contact with them for over three years, so why now? But even with those thoughts, you couldn’t help but remember nights spent with your best friend in the whole world, evenings passed by whilst stargazing despite the horrendous amount of light pollution and lack of visibility. Everything about the song when it was released made you think of the time before all of this, when you’d always had Han Jisung by your side. 

You make eye contact with Bang Chan as he follows Han’s vocals to fill his own part, he smiles, his dimples on full blast, and you know it’s his way of acknowledging you.

As the song passes, slowly the rest of the members seem to locate you, waving subtly, putting hearts up, ways to say hi without alerting the thousands of fans around you. Everyone sees you, except for Jisung, who either can’t locate you or is actively avoiding your eyes. Your heart drops at the thought. 

Did you really have it wrong? You had assumed it was a long shot that There was written for you, but hearing them perform it live and seeing them all track you down brought hope that maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking, all except the one you want to look at you the most.

Your heart sank further and further as the song came to a close, Han never having looked your way.

I know that it'll never stop

Oh, I'm still right there.

You watch Chan grab Jisung and pull him off stage as the countdown starts back up, and you’re pretty sure everyone can see the slump in his shoulders as his leader drags him away.

“Get out of your head honey. Just try to enjoy the show.” Nat rubs your back in comforting circles until Eve whips around, her grin too bright to ignore.

“This is the best night ever!” And of course your sunshine friend is oblivious to your inner turmoil. All you can do is smile back and agree.

You take deep breaths, you let your friends and the adoring fans around you ground you, and you decide to just enjoy this band that you’ve been a fan of for years instead of stressing about the friendship you’d already assumed was dead.

```

You could feel yourself letting loose, dancing to the music, singing at the top of your lungs, just enjoying being in the crowd. It was easy to be happy in a room with all your favorite people. 

Throughout the night all the boys would check up on you, your area of the crowd easily became a favorite to interact with, but Han still hadn’t looked at you. Trying not to let it affect you, you made a heart with Lee Know and then broke it, watching in delight as his brows raise in shock and he starts laughing. His laughter draws the others' attention and they all seem to light up at the sight of happy Lee Know. 

Han make’s his way over to Minho, throwing an arm over his shoulder and preparing to do his rap when Minho whispers something to him and nods in your direction. Everything seems to fade away as Jisungs eyes finally meet yours, you can vaguely hear the instrumental for his part of the song but he’s not rapping, he just seems frozen as he stares at you.

Raising your hand, you give him a small wave, his hand following the motion and copying which makes you smile. Minho must pinch him because his body jolts and he shoots his friend an incredulous look, and then as if remembering where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing, he blushes and follows Lee Know to the rest of the members to get into choreo formation for the next song, but not without shooting you one more smile.

Sound comes rushing back in, and suddenly the air feels lighter, you hear Lia squealing as she bounces up and down next to you, holding your arm, and you can feel Nat’s arm around you. 

Han’s eyes can’t seem to stay off of you after that, you catch him looking at you more often than not. You feel giddy, laughter bubbling in you as he stumbles some choreography while trying to keep his eyes on you. 

The rest of the concert flies by way too fast, you don’t want the night to end, you don’t want to go back to your hotel and let this moment go past you. You don’t want Han Jisung to stop looking at you again. 

All the longing for your best friend, all the time you spent pretending you were alright with the way things turned out because he was living his dream and he was happy, all those years loving someone unattainable, drowns you as the boys leave the stage for the last time that night. The weight of realization weighs on you as the lights come up and the stadium starts clearing out, and just when you were ready to grab your friends and elbow your way to out of the stadium, putting the whole night behind you and accepting the end of a friendship officially, a guard tracked you down, asking for you by your Korean name, and asking you to follow him.

Confusion, and a bit of hope, floods you as you look to your friends, who just shrug, just as confused by the request but following you and the guard, after Noel and Lia argue that security or not their friend isn’t going anywhere without the rest of them because that wouldn’t be safe. You’re all brought backstage and left in a room with several couches and a table full of snacks. 

“So, what the heck is going on?” Eve finally asks, breaking the confused silence.

“Y/n’s boyfriend got us V.I.P access, apparently.” Nat responds.

“BOYFRIEND?!”

You smack Nat’s arm, causing him to laugh. “No babe, I don’t have a boyfriend, I’m just as confused as you are.”

Before much else could be said, a loud squeal is heard just before you're lifted off the ground and spun around. 

“Y/n/n!!!” Felix shouts, setting you down and pulling you back in for a soul crushing hug. “I’ve missed you so much, we have so much catching up to do!” He looks around, likely looking for the rest of his members but noticing your friends. “Oh. Hello there!” He smiles. “I’m Lee Felix, nice to meet you all!”

“Let them breathe Lix,” Seungmin rolls his eyes, pulling you from Felix’s grasp just to drag you into a hug of his own. “But he’s right, there is a lot of catching up to do.” He mumbles before releasing you and passing you off to the next person.

You catch a glimpse of your roommates, all of whom look absolutely dumbfounded. Even Nat and Lia, who seemed to have known about Jisung, seemed absolutely bewildered by these events.

You’re passed from member to member and something about it is so nostalgic. Being hugged by these sweaty, energy high, happy boys made you feel completely at peace. 

By the time you’re finally completely released, you notice your boys introducing themselves to your slightly starstruck friends. You also notice everyone is in the room but Han and Chan.

Minho, the ever attentive one, saddles himself next to you, watching your friends mingle. 

“Sungie is, well, he’s having a panic attack, I won’t lie to you, and Chan’s helping him. Don’t worry, he’s not avoiding you.” You flash him a grateful smile.

You watch as Eve and Felix get on like an absolute house fire, both practically bouncing in excitement as they chat about goodness knows what. Nat, Lia, Changbin, and Hyunjin watch in amusement, providing commentary now and again, while you catch up with Minho, Innie, and Seungmin.

It’s not too long before Chan finally enters the room, taking no time at all to scoop you into his arms. “God we’ve missed you, Y/n/n.” He whispers, his face pressed into your neck.

“I’ve missed all of you too. So much. And I am so, so proud of you all.”

Chan pulls back, giving you a tired smile before turning you to the door. “He’s too nervous to come in here, so you might want to go to him.” His smile is genuine, and he squeezes your shoulder once before releasing you entirely and gently pushing you toward the door.

Outside of the room, Jisung is pacing and mumbling to himself, he doesn’t even seem to notice another presence with him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s just your best friend. Your best friend in the whole world that you’ve been out of touch with for years. You’ll be okay. It’s not like they wouldn’t want to see you.” Han freezes, eyes still locked on the ground. “Oh my god, what if they don’t want to see me.”

“Han Jisung, would you  stop rambling under your breath and hug me already?”

His head whips around, eyes wide, and for a minute all he does is stare at you in shock, and then he rushes towards you, pulling you into a hug so tight it’s as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I missed you so much.” He whispers, his voice watery.

You hug him back with just as much strength, clinging to him and willing your tears back.

“Careful, it almost sounds like you’re in love with me or something.” You try to joke, your voice just as unsteady as his.

That seems to trigger something in him because he pulls back and stares at you for a really long moment. Just taking in your features. “And what if I am?” He whispers. Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes are watery but genuine.

Before you can say anything, he starts fumbling for his pocket before pulling out a small black box. He takes a deep breath before sinking down onto one knee, your eyes widening in shock.

“Because I am, ya know? I always have been. You’ve always been my ending, Y/n/n. And I had promised you once that you’d be stuck with me for the rest of your miserable life, and that I’d put a ring on it if it meant never losing you. Well, then I did lose you, and now that you’re here, I don’t intend on ever letting you slip away again. So, marry me, and let me spend the rest of my life by your side, because I joke about your miserable life a lot, but I know for a fact how miserable life is without you and I don’t want it.”

You can feel the tears running down your face as you drop to your knees in front of him, nodding as you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

His lips are salty, likely from your shared tears, and they’re a little chapped, but they meet yours just as eagerly and you know it’s real, and that this is how it always should have been.

You both pull apart for air, he leans his forehead against yours as he grabs your hand to slide the ring into place and you hear whooping and hollering not to far, both of you looking up to see not only the kids, but your roommates all having likely witnessed the whole thing.

Jisung blushes and you grin, tears still flowing as you wrap your arm around your best friend in the whole wide world and show your ring off to Eve and Lia who rushed in to see it immediately.

“I love you.” Jisung whispers as he helps you stand.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, leaning further into him and never wanting to leave his side ever again.

“Sweetie, you have got some major explaining to do.” Eve cuts in, joining the hug and giving you a pointed but teasing glare.

a/n : thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!! if you enjoyed it considering reblogging or leaving a comment with your thoughts, I love to read them🫶

main taglist: nothing yet :)

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #skz fic #skz x reader #han x y/n #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n #rori writes #stray kids fanfic #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #childhood friends to lovers #?👀

[rory-cakes]

Broken Wings

TW: pregnancy, death by child birth, death, slight description of blood.

AN: This is part 2 to Alastor's Birdy

What had he done?

He couldn’t face her even in death?

What did he do that was so horrible that he couldn’t even see his wife?

His birdy?

Those questions ran through Charlie’s head as she and Vaggie walked through heaven. After the startling news of Alastor’s angel wife settled in, things at the hotel got really crazy. They were attacked, she argued with her dad, Alastor saved the day and kicked out Mimzy (lil bitch), and she reconnected with her father and got a meeting with heaven. 

Charlie had realized this would probably be Alastor’s only chance to see his wife since they both had died. So she offered for him to go with them. She hadn't expected him to say no.

“That’s quite alright, my dear, I am undeserving of her. I was blessed with her during my life. I will not curse her in death.”

This brings Charlie back to…

What did he do?

The pain in his hand was unbearable, but he didn’t say anything. After all, how could he complain about her squeezing his hand when she was working so hard on giving birth to their child?

Their child. 

Alastor never saw himself as a father. Not until he married her, and it became all he could think about. If more people were like his wife, the would be a more beautiful place. 

“AAAGGGHHH!!” his birdy screamed as she made the final push. 

“WAAAAHHHH!”

Alastor felt himself breathe again, but only for a moment.

It had all gone by so fast. 

The doctors noticed something wrong.

The blood wasn’t stopping and coming out too fast. 

The monitor spiked. 

He was rushed out of the room, holding his new baby girl.

She had wanted the child’s name to be Eudora if it was a girl and Galdur if it was a boy.

Hearing the yelling of several people. 

CLEAR

Then, the flat line. 

One life had been traded for another. 

The lights were off.

And the child… 

No, Eudora would never get to know the love of the woman who had touched his cold, bitter heart. Eudora would never get to hear the angelic voice of his birdy. 

They would pay…

part 3

#x reader #x reader fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor altruist #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #rory writes

[mqrianos]

jess mariano and rory gilmore are literally the SAME people at their core, just in opposite fonts. they MIRROR each other and are each other's TWIN FLAMES. that's exactly why they understand each other better than everyone else (asp herself said so). both are raised by teen moms and have deadbeat dads. yet, one is nurtured with love and care with a mom like lorelai. and the other is abandoned & ignored by a flaky mom like liz. both develop an immense love for reading regardless of whether it became kind of a coping mechanism. both exceed normal expectations of intelligence required for their age. hence, one goes above and beyond, strives for perfection with it, and craves validation while the other could not care less what people think and says "fuck it. rules don't matter anymore for me. i know stuff". one becomes stars hollow's princess, held onto a pedestal by everyone around her. the other becomes stars hollow's pariah, hated by every person he meets. both are under intense scrutiny by people where one is held to exceptionally high standards and the other is seen as "good for nothing". both of them break out of those respective moulds as soon as they become young adults. and both play a pivotal role in helping each other break out of those moulds and still be true to their inner selfs. I COULD WRITE AN ENTIRE TEN-PAGE ESSAY ON THE PARALLELS BETWEEN THEM....I REALLY COULD!

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #literati #jess x rory #rory and jess #rory gilmore #rory x jess #anti rogan #someone help me out of this brainrot #they are SOOOO INSANE #not even shakespeare could write out a love story as complex as theirs #they will FIND THEIR WAY BACK TO EACH OTHER #the collage is just a silly lil thing but omg theyre my pookies

[memento-rory]

➞ 𝟐 𝐀.𝐌.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: schlatt comes home late from a trip.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: just tooth-rotting fluff. i’ll pay your dental bill.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 425.

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i don’t know where this came from. i’m sleepy as fuck and i need to be held, i think.

Schlatt’s on his way home, returning from a quick business trip to LA. You’d offered to stay up to pick him up, but he’d told you not to worry about it, so you’re nestled in bed with the covers pulled up over your shoulders. Try as you might, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, your phone falling limp in your hand, whatever TikTok you’d been watching playing on a loop as you drift off to sleep.

Schlatt knows you’re probably already asleep, so his arrival at home is near silent to keep from disturbing you. He kicks his shoes off at the door, pulling his wallet and keys from his pocket to place them on the table. His luggage stays at the door too, something to be dealt with tomorrow, because he’s too exhausted from his trip to bother with it now.

He takes a shower — a rather quick one, as he’s eager to finally get into bed. The hot water feels great, but he knows being in your arms after several long, busy days will feel even better.

It’s not long before the bed shifts, the feeling of Schlatt’s arms wrapping around you causing you to stir.

“Hey, angel.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before reaching around to lock your phone for you, moving it to your bedside table. He runs his hand down your arm, relishing in the way your soft skin feels under his hand.

“Hey.” You respond groggily, turning over in the bed to face him. “How was your trip?”

“Eh, who cares,” He says, smiling softly at you. His face is just barely illuminated by the moonlight bleeding through the curtains. “I’m just glad I finally got to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“Me too,” You smile back at him.

Schlatt leans forward to place a soft kiss on your lips, lingering longer than he originally intended to because it feels so good to be with you again.

When he pulls away from you, he takes a second to really assess your face, moonlit and bleary-eyed. He stares at you like you’re unreal, someone he feels like he’s dreamed up. His hand moves from your arm to your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his touch, closing your heavy eyes.

“Fuckin’ love you, kid.” Schlatt murmurs, kissing your forehead before pulling you to him to rest your head on his chest.

“Fuckin’ love you, punk.” You respond, drifting off to sleep once again, thanks to the comfort and warmth of your boyfriend.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #rory writes

[hydrachop]

neovenator, my most fleshed out figura avatar yet, with 60+ animations for just about every state a player can be in. 6 action wheel animations as well, not shown in the video, three of which play randomly while idle. though its supposed to be a neovenator it can most certainly be retextured and modeled to fit any medium-sized theropod :)

utilizes gsanimblend, jimmyanims, squishyapi, runlater, and soggyscript

download coming after some polishing!

#figura #custom player model #minecraft #modded minecraft #blockbench #paleo #paleoart #neovenator #theropod #rorys art #with fire it writes

[transmasc-rose]

I'm thinking about the horror of the Doctor from the perspective of non-companions again, especially as it relates to people those companions know.

Rose? "Ran away" (not wrong) for "a year" (a week) with a "man" (alien) "twice her age" (approximately 50 times her age but yeah, he is Time Lord middle aged), and then gives absolutely no explanation for how or why that happened, except that she was "travelling".

Then when her mum does get an explanation (which, frankly, is only comforting because of the unfamiliarity of the alternative given. The devil you know.), Rose barely checks back in.

She almost dies for him. When she thinks he's dead, she's changed in a way her family doesn't know how to handle. Then she's gone for who knows how long and comes back with the Doctor wearing a new face.

When her original tenure as a companion ends, and Rose lives in Pete's World, she works for Torchwood/UNIT (they become the same organization). She volunteers for the Dimension Cannon. She explains to the alternate earth how to rig up a time machine.

She's changed in ways that no one else can really understand.

Amy? There's everything with River Song of course (though I'm still not there in my viewing), him running away with Amy the night before her and Rory's wedding, and also the connection between the Doctor and the Time Crack being the reason all of Amy's family's dead. Obvious stuff.

However he's also the strange man who broke into this child's house and made a mess of her life that she never got over, that promised to take her away from here, that she wrote about and drew and carved and made her friends dress up as.

And they sent her to psychiatrist after psychiatrist without any help. In their perspective, to work through what she imagined. In her perspective, to tell her that her reality wasn't real.

And then he comes back.

And to some extent, later, when he shows himself to everyone, isn't that more frightening? That the story your child told you, of the strange man she met as a child, of time travel, of nearly being stolen away, hadn't been a lie, or a misinterpretation, or an imagining?

And so he shows up at her wedding. And steals her away again.

Donna I feel like has the least horror until her final episode. I think exploring the in between section of her meeting the Doctor and finding him again would be interesting, but not exactly horror. More an exploration of how obsessive the companions can get about him, how it eats their whole lives with even one encounter, even as it makes them better people.

And then, obviously, the horror of having your mind altered and erased against your will by someone you trusted. For your own good, of course. Because he knows best. How could you know better than him? He's ancient. He's practically all knowing.

Shouldn't you be grateful?

(And he's forgiven.)

#doctor who #the doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #amy pond #rose tyler #donna noble #9th doctor #10th doctor #and this is relatively healthy for companion/time lord relationships #we see what it looks like when it goes wrong #its the Master and Lucy #or the Master and Tala #Also while I think you can say that Rose's life was better for having the Doctor in it #she's happier. she has. well. she's happier in the relationship she's in #than the one she was in before. #She wouldn't take it back for the world. #I'm not sure you could say the same about Amy. #Because if it wasn't for the Doctor #then the crack wouldn't have existed in the first place #she wouldn't be AS distrusted by her community #(she was still a strange girl #but it would have been a more “normal” strangeness) #she still would have had Rory. And without the crack #her family too. #y'know? #I have less to say about Donna and I'm not sure what to write about Martha at all. I'm sorry friends. Rose and Amy live in my brain #and make ME pay rent. #rose rambles #none of this is complaining this is what makes dw worth watching sgsfsfd

[castieltrash1]

the devil has come home → charlie w.

summary → during one of your regular movie nights, charlie asks to take your relationship a step forward

word count → 3.4k

warnings → smut; virgin!charlie x f!reader, oral, literally an entire fic dedicated to charlie eating pussy idk what u want me to say, dirty talk, switch!charlie, established relationship, almost fingering, premature ejaculation, cumming untouched, overstimulation, and hair pulling

a/n → everyone and their mother is in their rory culkin era rn so here u go, whores (affectionate) <3 no but fr i watched scream 4 the other day and knew what i had to do so pls enjoy xoxo

+ bonus points to whoever can figure out the title ;)

---

Charlie shifts beside you, gnawing at his bottom lip to restrain the interruption on the tip of his tongue.

“Did you know,” he suddenly begins, unable to stop himself. “That the school is actually called Ewen High in the book?” On the screen in front of you, a meek Carrie White stumbles through the library in a scene oddly similar to your boyfriend’s own reclusive attitude, and you drag your tired eyes to meet his; wide, with an excited glint reflecting off their pale blue hue. “They renamed it in the adaptation as a nod to Psycho.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised. “I don’t think you’ve told me that one yet.” The comment, while honest, makes Charlie flustered, and he unconsciously shifts closer to the opposite end of the couch. “But I like hearing about all the facts you know,” you reassure his silent insecurity, nuzzling closer. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and kissing the soft cotton sleeve of his shirt, you continue, teasing: “Even if I have heard most of them before.” He groans, but his chest rumbles beneath you with his own restrained amusement.

Peering up at Charlie, you prepare for what is bound to be a lengthy explanation. “So, what, it’s like Norman Bates?” you ask, but Charlie simply nods, mumbling a quiet affirmation under his breath. Already, his eyes are locked back on the television, colorful lights bouncing off his face. It must be his tenth time watching the classic horror film but he stares with the amazement of a first-time viewer, as if he wasn’t rambling about something called a split diopter shot just a few scenes ago.

You can’t help but smile at his quick shift in attention, ultimately content with settling down and letting him focus. As long as a scary movie is playing, you’ll always be the second most important thing in the room to Charlie; a title you hold with pride. Unlike others in his life, his passion doesn’t bother you. In fact, you find yourself admiring his ability to juggle a film studies degree, the leadership position of your college’s cinema club, and weekly series rewatches with the rest of his busy life. Your only complaint would be having to share the small couch in his apartment with Robbie, whose presence makes the already rare mid-movie makeout session completely non-existent. Thankfully, he’s visiting family this weekend, but the lack of a clingy roommate has seemingly had zero effect on Charlie’s inclination to make a move.

So, when your boyfriend awkwardly clears his throat, you quickly tune back in, caught off-guard by the scene unfolding. On-screen is a vivid reminder of the part of your relationship that, up until now, has been virtually unexplored. Despite being unphased during the naked locker room title card, Charlie now fidgets uncomfortably as one of the male characters, whose name you can’t remember, receives a blowjob in his car. The actual act is offscreen, but there’s enough crotch-leveled head bobbing in the camera’s view to surmise what’s happening below the cutoff.

When it comes to anyone else’s sex life, Charlie is as interested as you could expect any newly independent young guy to be. If a couple is getting handsy during a party or other gathering, he’s the one to speak up and tease them about getting a room. When one of your friends unknowingly makes an innuendo, it’s him who laughs, derailing the conversation with some form of that’s what she said joke. Even during the gratuitous nudity scenes popular in his favorite genre, your boyfriend usually pairs his reddened cheeks with a low whistle of appreciation.

Simply put, Charlie is not a prude.

That fact had been what stumped you as your relationship grew, regular milestones coasting by at average speeds. It took three instances of him not reaching under your bra during makeout sessions, happily groping at your chest through two layers of clothes, for you to realize that his personal experience ended abruptly atop second base. Even when it was physically obvious he was ready to move on, Charlie had never mentioned or hinted at continuing, so neither did you. Now, it’s almost as if the glaring depiction of a couple being intimate has finally reminded him how little you two have done.

Thankfully, a bout of bad editing eases the sudden tension. “How is she talking right now?” you snort, referencing the actress’ voiceover poorly edited into the scene. Charlie flinches at your interruption, but you barely notice, too busy jabbing your pointer finger directly at the screen. “She’s still got John Travolta’s dick in her mouth!”

“Billy,” Charlie tensely corrects.

Assuming his tone is just a result of your outburst, you roll your eyes. “Whatever. All I’m saying is you can barely remember how to breathe while giving head, let alone start… I don’t know… monologuing about the girl you hate.” You huff, shaking your head. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt again. Promise,” you apologize, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you when Charlie doesn’t immediately reply. You hadn’t meant to insult him or the movie, but maybe your attempt at a bad joke had fallen short, too personal and poorly timed to do anything more than hurt his feelings.

You start to pull back, intent on apologizing again but are surprised to see Charlie already staring at you. Thinking he’s waiting for your regretful spiel, you start to speak. “I’m s-”

“I want to try,” Charlie says at the same time. The rest of your words suffocate in your hitched breath, offering a subsequent silence that he quickly tries to fill. “Giving you head or, like, e-eating you out, I mean.” The admission makes him swallow heavily, wide eyes unblinking, and you sit there motionless in surprise. When you offer little more than a shaky exhale in response, Charlie squeaks out an excuse. “Not that we - not that you have to or anything, I just…” Regret spreads across his face and you quickly recover, grabbing his shaking hand with yours.

“Okay,” you agree, trying to steady your breathing as the image of Charlie between your thighs flashes through your head.  “Are you sure?” He nods so quickly that you almost blink and miss it.

“I’m definitely sure,” Charlie reassures, squeezing your fingers between his. “A-are you?”

“Definitely,” you echo, already feeling a steady warmth spread across your body. Despite your shared revelation, there’s a long moment where neither of you moves even an inch, hands clasped together as if carved from one marble stone. It isn’t until Charlie’s gaze flickers to your still-parted lips that you take the bait, reeled closer and closer until your mouth meets his.

“Fuck,” Charlie breathes, words becoming a muffled vibration when you press harder, tongue dragging to gather the taste of him. You reach for his hair now, dark waves weaving themselves between each of your fingers, and he lets out a little whimper when you tug, pulling him against you. His grip seems to have no end in sight, blindly reaching at and grasping whatever parts of you he can, fingers meeting your thighs, hips, chest, and neck. His thumbs prop up your chin, giving him the angle to lick needily inside your mouth, and you melt in his grasp, letting him take what he needs.

“Can I…” Charlie leaves a shallow bite mark on your bottom lip, soothing it with a gentle pass of his tongue. His fingers dip to the hem of your shirt now, tips brushing the inside seam. Faintly, you remember he’s never felt you here. He inches back just enough to speak clearly, voice filling the thin space between you. “Y-you can take it off and…” Already, he’s trying to pull the offending garment over your head, and you let go of his hair to help, tossing your shirt to the side the second you can.

Despite your arching into him, Charlie doesn’t immediately kiss you again, lashes fluttering as he stares shamelessly at your exposed skin. Without thinking, you reach back to undo your bra clasp with ease, straps sliding down your arms until they fall off completely. Still amazed by the previous sight, Charlie inhales sharply, pupils blown out with lust as you become barer in front of him.

“Woah…” he finally breathes, fingers tentatively brushing right below your chest. Slowly, his touch inches higher until he gives in, cupping your tits softly. The warmth between your thighs grows as he feels you in ways you’ve only imagined alone at night, eyes squeezed shut and fingers under your panties. “Holy shit.” Each exclamation falls under his breath as if he can’t contain them, commenting only to himself. “Fuck…” His grip tightens, thumbs dragging over your hardening nipples, and you sigh. “You’re so… soft.”  With a grin spreading across his face, Charlie looks to you for reassurance, squeezing harder when you nod and let out a pleased sound. “D-does it feel good?”

“Mhm.” You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding, skipping beats against his hands. “You can be rougher, though,” you tell him, reaching up to lay your palms on the back of his. “I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise.” Growing more confident from your words, Charlie begins experimenting with different levels of pressure, nails digging into your skin one second and then pinching and tugging at your nipples the next. His breathing grows heavier with each passing moment, and you can’t help the low moans escaping your lips at the feeling of his desperation and the excitement radiating off of him.

And then, without needing any reassurance, Charlie replaces his hands with his mouth, sucking eagerly at every inch of your heaving chest. “S-shit,” you gasp, then let out a breathy laugh. You push some of his long hair back, tucked behind his ears, and smile at the sight of him. His eyes are closed, face red and warm, lips slick with spit as he runs his tongue against the contours of your body. “You’re so good,” you tell him, panting when he moans against you at the praise, the vibration tingling your skin. He wraps his mouth around your nipple before pulling it between his teeth, the sharp sting sending a shiver up your spine.

“I could do this forever,” Charlie lets go to admit, and then, remembering the task at hand, begins to descend lower, kissing and licking down your bare stomach. His hands steady your twitching hips, ticklish as his soft hair brushes your sensitive skin. You continue to whisper praises until he reaches the waistband of your pajama pants and halts. He swallows heavily, the movement of his bobbing throat almost audible above the drone of the television. You blindly reach for the remote and crank down the volume until it plays a low buzz of sound you can barely make out. God help him if your boyfriend gets distracted by a bucket of pig’s blood at a time like this.

“Do I just…” Charlie trails off, unable to vocalize his thoughts. Instead of answering verbally, you lift your hips, fingers meeting his. You drag the elastic past your thighs, letting Charlie pull the rest of the fabric off once it reaches your knees. He stares intently at every inch of your exposed legs, amazed by the sight, as he mindlessly tugs your feet free. It’s only when you start to move, making yourself comfortable against the arm of the couch, that Charlie finally shifts, offering you more space. He moves closer the second he’s able to occupy the emptiness between your legs.

It’s not the most ideal position but if you stop him now, Charlie might lose his boost of confidence in the few seconds it takes to walk down the hall to his room. With one knee pressed against the back of the couch, your opposite leg balancing precariously on the edge of one of the cushions, you spread out as much as you can, offering yourself to Charlie entirely. Even with your whole body on display, his eyes stay locked on one spot: the center of your underwear, where a wet spot is surely visible. You love knowing the only other time he has this look is when one of his favorite films is on.

“Is this good?” you ask, breaking him from his stupor. He blinks, confused. “The position,” you clarify, smiling at the blush that rapidly coats his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, it’s…” Charlie clears his throat, leaning in slowly. “It’s perfect. You are, I mean. You’re perfect,” he whispers, gaze darting from your face to your panties before returning. “I can see it… Does it - do you feel good?” Even with the physical proof, he seems unsure, the tone of his question bordering on disbelief. Before you can find your words, he moves in, shaky fingers meeting the inside of your thighs. “What can I do?” he asks, skin growing redder with desperation. “I-I wanna turn you on more and-”

“Charlie,” you interrupt, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You’re doing so good.” Your amazement thankfully doesn’t embarrass him, and soon enough you feel his warm exhale right where you’ve imagined him so many times before. “I-I’ll probably cum pretty fast,” you tell him, unable to make the desperate confession sound like a tease. “If you want, you can tease me through- fuck,” you gasp, feeling Charlie’s nose bump against your clothed clit, his tongue darting out to tentatively lick at the damp fabric covering you. You whimper something that vaguely sounds like his name when he presses harder, now dragging his tongue over the entirety of your core.

“Charlie,” you repeat breathlessly, grabbing at the hair that frames his face. “T-take them off, please,” you suddenly find yourself begging, hips arching for more. When lithe fingers brush against you, you almost whine at what is surely an attempt at teasing, but then Charlie is pushing your panties to the side and tentatively sucking at your now exposed cunt. Overwhelmed by the change in sensations, you buck into the feeling, immediately rewarded by the slow drag of Charlie’s tongue circling your clit before lowering to ease inside you. The technique in his actions is not lost on you and you heave in a breath, trying to speak.

“Y-you’ve really n-never?” you squeak out, thighs squeezing around his cheeks when he attempts to shake his head. When he pulls back, you shiver at the feeling of your panties sliding back into place, fabric sticking to your wet skin. Charlie looks up at you shyly, instinctively licking his lips clean of your arousal.

“I’ve… I’ve imagined this a lot,” he whispers, tone rising as he grows more confident. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”  His cheeks are flushed and his body shakes as he clings to you for support in every form. “I’m just gonna take off your panties and- and I want you to cum, okay? Don’t hold it back or anything, please. I-if you need to hold me in place or move me, just do it. I’ll…” Stunned by his proclamation, you wait in awe for him to finish. “I’ll be good for you, I swear,” he finally promises.

True to his word, Charlie immediately resumes the task at hand, finally tugging your panties completely off and shoving them to the side. Despite the vulnerability of your position, laid bare for him, you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips when he leans back in. Charlie drags a soothing palm down the inside of your thigh before his mouth is on you again, now slower and more precise. His gaze is focused, flickering between your expression and body, taking in every shift of your features and shiver that runs across you.

He starts by tasting the entirety of you, tongue flattened and firm as it glides against your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, letting you grind onto him until you both build a steady rhythm. It’s not enough to make you cum, but it isn’t meant to be; a consistent sensation that keeps you wanting more, without unbearably teasing you. That comes when Charlie begins to flick his tongue against your clit, so quickly and effortlessly that it takes your breath away. A litany of sounds escapes you as he dedicates all of his attention to your most sensitive spot, torturing it endlessly. His own moans only add to the sensation, a low vibration that seems to trail up the rest of your body, filling your head with a rhythmic buzz.

“Fuck,” you gasp, vision blurring and thighs trembling as Charlie replaces his tongue with his thumb, calloused skin circling your clit in a steady motion. With his mouth free, and between quick inhales, he starts to speak again.

“You taste so good,” he says, the vulgarity of his words no longer seeming to phase him. He rubs harder, faster, and his breathing hastens. “I-I want you to cum on my tongue, please?” His question sounds more like a plea, especially with the way he seems to pant around each word. “I’m gonna keep licking h-here, okay?” he asks, thumb dragging lower until the tip sinks into you with ease. Both of you still, the motion propelling the room into complete silence. Charlie lets a bit more of his thumb push into you before he pulls back completely, shakily exhaling. “It… You’re so warm,” he remarks, staring intently at where the arousal slowly drips from you. Like a moth to a flame, his mouth returns, messily licking clean your wetness.

You cry out his name, tugging on his hair so harshly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t relent. Your hips buck and you grind your clit against his firm thumb, his tongue pressing inside you just as the thick digit had moments prior. Your mantra is only quietened by the sound of Charlie’s, a muffled please, please, please mouthed against your core that has you spiraling, desperation mirroring his. A quick glance shows you that while his head and hands are focused, the rest of his body is uncontrolled as he ruts against the sofa, so turned on he can’t help but chase release.

The sharp edge of your own impending orgasm hits you so hard it seems to isolate the rest of your senses, body and mind falling into an endless abyss with only Charlie’s touch anchoring you to the present. His incessant effort to satisfy himself with your pleasure intensifies everything until you find yourself succumbing to his ultimate desire. A broken admission falls from your lips as you cum on his tongue, neverending high propelled as his licking and rubbing only grow in speed and desperation. Even after you’ve stopped grinding against him, Charlie tastes you like it’s his last chance, his hips bucking wildly into the cushion below. He eventually slows, but his tongue doesn’t stop, and you’re too overwhelmed to realize what’s happened.

It takes you whimpering from overstimulation and pulling Charlie back by his hair to make him stop, his mouth chasing you even after you’ve pressed your trembling thighs together, knees digging into his heaving chest. After a few seconds, he seems to blink back some clarity, swallowing heavily and shifting back awkwardly, cheeks flushed bright red. “Charlie?” you breathe, shakily pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Are you - oh.” Despite his quick maneuvering, the new angle allows you to see the slowly spreading wet spot at the front of his jeans.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Charlie squeaks out, trying to yank himself from the couch. “Let me just - fuck, uh - go to the bathroom or something and…” When he tries to cover his crotch with his hands, you bat them away, immediately reaching for the zipper and button on his pants. “W-what are you doing?” he asks but doesn’t stop you, even when you ease his sensitive and spent cock out from his stained underwear. His expression is pure shame as he quickly hardens in your grasp, hips bucking to escape the overstimulation of your fingers wrapped around him.

“Let me return the favor,” you tell him, tilting your head softly in silent questioning. He must only think of the wetness of your mouth on him since his blush deepens, cock twitching against your slick palm. You stroke him slowly and softly until he stutters out a yes, which you reply to with a widening grin, unknowing that he’s imagined this moment more than you could ever guess.

You lean down with a teasing imitation of his previous word and Charlie suddenly feels all of his wet dreams come true.

“I want you to cum on my tongue, okay?”

#charlie walker smut #charlie walker #scream 4 #scream 4 smut #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker imagine #charlie walker oneshot #charlie walker fanfic #scream 4 fanfic #scream 4 imagine #scream 4 oneshot #charlie walker x reader smut #fic: the devil has come home #t: writing

[kisses4kaia]

can you do one where y/n and charlie are friends and he wants to know how to eat someone out so she teaches him (they end up fuckign))

im so high but happy 4/20 to those who celebrate ☀! fem! reader 17+ nsfw . also unprotected sex is mentioned in this, don't do this ! (btw, title has nothing to do w fic i just really love blue banisters🎃) 🕯️

living legend🪶- c, walker ,,

a yawn exerted your throat as you sat on your best friend's couch, a binder full of homework sat neatly in your lap.

"char? c'mere, i don't get this one," you called out to your friend and furrowed your eyebrows.

charlie quickly sat down next to you, staring at the page. "this one?" he pointed towards the question. you offered a small nod of verification.

as the gears turned in his head, trying to figure out the equation, you stared at the deeply concentrated look on his face.

"i got it. it's 13," he broke you out of your trance when he looked at you with a smile. "thanks, char." you gleamed at him.

his eyes flashed to your lips for a split second, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "o-oh, yeah. um, of course. any time," he gulped and looked away from your face.

"...charlie? what is it?" you could read him like a book, he obviously wanted to ask you something.

"n-nothing! nothing at all!" he defended.

you just continued to glare at him with a knowing look adorning your features.

"fine. i just... wanted to ask you something," he looked down at his hands. "yeah? what's up?" you were curious now.

"promise not to laugh?" he stared at you seriously. you put on your best, fake, solemn, face. "cross my heart," you joked.

he scoffed. "well, uh... i was just wondering if you could maybe teach me how to," there was something else at the end of the sentence, but he was so quiet, you couldn't make it out.

"speak up, charlie." you demanded. a deep breath.

"could you teach me how to give head?" he was much louder and faster with his tone this time.

your eyes widened. he kept his head down, not daring to see the expression on your face. a few moments of silent tension lingered in the air.

you broke through it. "i mean... of course. but, like... why me?" you asked purely out of curiosity.

his head snapped up. "wait, really? well, uh, i mean, there's nobody i trust more than you and i just figured you'd be the best teacher... i guess," his cheeks were now turning vermillion.

"homework can wait, i think." you set the binder on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm, yes." he nodded quickly.

"well, uh, foreplay is really important," you nodded, pulling him closer to you. you took his hands into yours and placed them at the tops of your thighs.

he was frozen, terrified to make any movement. you took account of this and used your hands to run his up and down your thighs. "relax," you whispered.

he nodded abruptly. "yeah, yeah. sorry," he shook his head as if to rid his head of every thought.

you smiled. he was fucking adorable. "i'm gonna kiss you, that ok?" you asked, pushing hair behind his ear. "yes, please," he shied.

you leaned in carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. the kiss was heightened as he pushed you onto your back, not disconnecting his lips from yours once.

his hands explored under your shirt, and you were tired of the restricted material, so you threw it off. he removed his lips from yours to simply stare.

"char? everything okay?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "you're gorgeous." was the only thing he said. you felt your cheeks get warmer as his eyes burned holes into your skin.

his hands found the rim of your pants and his fingers danced around the hem. "go ahead, love." you allowed. he looked up at your face for confirmation and you nodded.

he slipped the trousers down your legs, along with your underwear.

"okay, lay in between my legs," he lowered his face in front of your core, taking in the scent and energy.

"go ahead and try something, i'll let you know what feels good, m'kay?" you began to play with his hair. he nodded and locked his eyes onto your face, ready to absorb anything and everything you gave him.

he licked a line up your slit as he took in the delectable taste. god, he could spend the rest of his life here.

a sigh escaped your lips. it's been a minute.

charlie suctioned his lips onto your clit and used his tongue to circle around it. your fingers tightened their grip on his hair.

this caused a hum to vibrate against you. "fuck, you're doing so good," you praised.

the muscle swirled around your folds and tried everything he'd seen in porn on you, and you let him know what he should continue and what he should cut out.

at one point, his tongue dipped deeply into you, causing your back to arch off of the couch.

he ate out you out like there was no tomorrow until you stopped him.

"wait, char. stop," he pulled away immediately and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"sorry, did i do something wrong?" you shook your head. "no, um... i just want you.. inside me?" you asked, closing your legs, feeling shy.

"are you serious?" his eyes widened. "only if you want to-" he cut you off. "are you kidding? i've dreamed about fucking you for literal years," he quietly admitted. it made your heart flutter.

his clothes were all over the place in no time. "have you ever done this before?" you asked him. "no," his voice was soft and almost embarrassed. "hey, look at me." you allowed him to sit back on the couch.

you moved to straddle him. "let me take care of you, hm?" you looked down at him.

he could've cried.

instead, he nodded. you lined his tip up with your entrance. "ready?" you needed one final assurance. "mhm,"

he was big, no doubt about it. he stretched you out beyond belief as you sank down on him.

the sound that elicited him almost made you cum right there. you allowed both of you to adjust before moving.

when you did, he couldn't help but let his head fall into the crook of your neck. you were so warm, so tight around him. he whimpered and whined into you as you grinded and bounced and clenched around him.

"f-fuck, mommy, you feel so good around me," he whined.

the moan you let out at the name was straight out of a porno. you sped up your pace as you attacked his neck and collarbone with hickeys. you were fully aware robbie, kirby, and jill would see them tomorrow. you couldn't care less.

"t's too much, momma! fuck, slow- slow down," his hands glued onto your hips as tears began forming in his eyes.

"you can take it, right? you can be my good boy and take it for just a little longer, can't you?" you wiped the droplets that cascaded down his cheeks.

he nodded. it was all he wanted, to be good for you. "yeah, i can take it. all for you," he said closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel the ecstasy of your cunt around his cock.

"i'm gonna cum, pretty boy. you wanna cum with me? can you do that for me?" you were breathless in your ask. "please," he whimpered.

only a few swift movements of your hips later, your release was staring you dead in your face, along with charlie's. "now, doll." you whispered in his ear and he let out a strained moan and he let out his load inside of you as you came around his dick.

"oh my god, y/n." he chuckled into the sweat-coated area of your shoulder. you couldn't do anything but chuckle back until you both burst into laughter.

taglist; @themostintellectualblonde @dreamtofus @wannabe-indie-sleaze

#nonnieees💗 #kai's got mail <3📑 #charlie walker #rory culkin #charlie walker smut #this is so cutie im dead #im so sleepy #sorry if this has mistakes !! #im such a sucker for a mommy kink !!😵 #scream #scream 4 #kaia writes charlie

[arachine]

pairing: shy!inexperienced!charlie walker x fem!reader warnings: corruption, blow job, unprotected sex, loser charlie, whiny charlie + so sorry for clogging ethan’s tags but i am a whore for interaction! reblogs are highly appreciated >.< wc: 750

corruption with shy!inexperienced!charlie is something so special to me. just the sheer mental image of him trembling beneath your touch. head fogged with lust, palms all slick with perspiration because his hands have been nestled in the thick of your hair for the past half hour.

he’s very well past his limit, and you know this, but you disregard his—rather ill—attempts to swat you away. one more, you tell him. but one more is never really one more. it’s two more, then three more, then six more—and now he’s lost count. so instead of fighting, he relinquishes his body to you. lets you tease and touch, lick and suck, until his limbs melt into the plush of his stab themed duvet. 

“oh, god,” he groans with a hand thrown over his mouth, “‘m gonna, ‘m gonna–shit–yeah, keep doing that.” immediately, you pull off of him with a wet pop, wiping away a dew droplet of spit from the side of your mouth. 

“that feel good?” you query, smoothing a gentle palm up and down his shaft. there’s a hint of mischief in your voice–it’s teasing, but nonetheless, the question is genuine. 

“yeah, ’s ni–“ charlie starts, but is promptly cut off when you lick a long stripe up his length. like a minx, you furrow your brows and feign confusion—as if you don’t know what you’re doing when you lick him like that—look at him like that. when you rub the smooth skin of your cheeks against it, and leave a trail of wet kisses along the side of it. 

“huh? couldn’t hear you, baby,” you pout, rubbing a thumb up and over his weeping slit. the boy mumbles an expletive under his breath. sits up on his elbows and flashes you a look of disdain for making him repeat himself, though, you know it’s disingenuous. 

“f-feels…good,” he manages to huff out, “really good.” you smile at his sincerity, and halt your ministrations altogether, rising from your haunches to stand above him. the loss of touch coaxes a noise from him, somewhere in between a whine and a whimper, and he almost slips from the bed trying to pull you back towards him. 

“nuh uh,” you admonish, nudging his chest back with the tip of your foot. when he tries to move again, you push him all the way down against the bed, until your foot rests flat and firmly on the crest of his chest. this time, he seems to get it, ultimately accepting defeat. he retrieves back to his initial position, and plants his elbows deep into the cushion of his mattress.

charlie watches intuitively as you slowly retract your foot. his eyes dance across the expanse of your face, and although the room is dimly lit, he can still make out the devilish smirk gracing your features. one by one, you begin to discard articles of clothing, and it’s then that charlie’s starting to get the picture. oh, he thinks, it’s happening.

he feels like he should do something, like he should prepare, but he knows that any advance he makes will only result in another reprimanding. and, fuck, he can’t help but to squirm around because never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be in this position—both figuratively and literally—which is, naked from the waist down, leaning back on his embarrassingly small twin sized bed, while the prettiest girl at woodsboro high strips down in front of him. 

and not only did you suck him off, but you were going to take his virginity. at least he thinks you are. because now you’re inching closer to him, and straddling him, and—

“holy shit,” he drawls, involuntarily springing forward when you sink down on him. an intense flood of warmth surges to the pit of his belly like liquid lightning, and like the virgin he is, he almost lets a load out right then and there. pathetic, he thinks. 

“not g-gonna last, not like this,” he spits through gritted teeth, “too warm, ’s t-too much, i c-can’t.” though, before he can finish, you interrupt him with a drag of your hips, and raise a single digit to his lips.

“shh, i know, i know. you’re doing so good,” the pad of your thumb swipes his cheek, “gonna take care of you, make you feel good,” you assure, “don’t you want me to help you?”

“y-yeah, shit, yeah,” charlie nods, throwing his head back against his sheets.

“then give me one more.” 

© arachine 2023

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x reader smut #scream vi x reader #scream vi smut #scream smut #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x reader smut #jack champion #rory culkin #:: — LEXI WRITES !

[nevvdrinksteaa]

pairing: jack thurlow x reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn without plot, afab reader, oral (face fucking!!!), degration (use of bitch, slut, whore), slight praise (that’s a stretch), DADDY KINK (jack has a daddy kink sry not sry (#daddyissues)) !!!!!, use of toys, no reference to body type or race !!

word count: 400 (short lil thing, i’m tired and horny sry)

as always reblogs are loved and appreciated,, also i’m taking requests hehe *kiss kiss*

~~~

“come on, bitch, just like that”

you’re laying flat on your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed, body hot against your cool, silk sheets. you could feel hot tears streaming down your face, drool pooling from the sides of your mouth.

“awe look at you baby, why are you crying? you asked for this” you felt his cock push deeper and deeper with every stroke.

jack has his hand tight against your throat, making you light headed, his other hand held a wand, vibrating violently against your clit. you felt yourself getting closer and closer, knots tightening in your stomach. you took your hand to your leg, tapping against his leg to breathe. you took a deep breath, feeling yourself let go. you felt dizzy, stars speckling your vision.

“wanted daddy to fuck this pretty fucking mouth and now you can’t take it.” he gave your face an open palm slap, then patting your cheek lightly, tapping his cock against your tongue. “you gonna be a good whore and take it?”

you nodded quickly before you felt him push himself back in, moaning at the intrusion. he kept steady thrusts, groaning at the tightness with every shallow breath you took. “you look so pretty like this, throat wrapped around my fat cock”

you moved your hands up cupping his balls playing with them slightly, rolling them with your fingers. you felt him twitch in your throat, followed by a loud groan. “fuck i’m close”

your felt him pick up the pace, hips moving in a smooth pattern. “you gonna take daddy’s cum down your throat?” your eyes squeezed shut, blinking tears down your face. “be a good little whore and swallow it all”

you felt his pace falter, moaning as he came. “fuck, i’m coming, take it. take. it. all.” pushing his body into you, his hips punctuating every word. you felt your mouth get hot, salt coating your taste buds. jack pulled out slowly, leaning down to look in your eyes, his hand grabbed your jaw.

“did you get what you asked for baby?”

#nev writes #jack thurlow #jack thurlow smut #jack goes home #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #rory culkin x reader

[ladyinwriting18]

A Gift For A Hound (Sandor Clegane x Reader)

Summary: Joffrey gives his faithful Hound a gift---you.

Words: 5,277 Warnings: PIV, Oral sex, Master/Slave,

The Hound walks down the long stone corridor that leads to his room. In his right hand he carries a wineskin filled with the first thing he could get his fucking hands on. Being the personal bodyguard to a cunt like Joffrey is no easy task. The little shit is ruthlessly cruel. Which is saying something coming from him. Sandor Clegane isn’t known for being kind hearted but he’s no Joffrey. The boy is sick in the head. He does his best to push it from his mind. The day is done, meaning he can forget the shit from the day and drown himself in wine alone until the numbness of sleep takes him. This is Sandor’s nightly ritual. One that he honestly looks forward to. But when he opens the door, he isn’t greeted by the usual solitude. Instead, there’s a naked woman kneeling on the floor beside his bed.

It takes him a moment to get over the initial shock, but when he does, his voice booms throughout his chamber. “What the fuck is this? What are you doing here?”  You lift your head to look at him, keeping your hands palms up on the tops of your knees. You’re as naked as your nameday, all except your neck. Tied around it is a yellow ribbon with three black dogs down the front—the colors and sigil of his house. “Hello, My Lord Hound.” “I’m no lord. So you can keep those meaningless titles to yourself.” You nod but stay silent. Sandor growls, nearly barking at you. “Well? Are you going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in here?” You don’t even flinch at his raised voice, just answer him softly with a voice as warm as honey. “I belong to you. I am yours to do with as you please.” His brows pull together, not understanding the words that just left your mouth. “What?” You smile and patiently repeat yourself. “I belong to you now, for as long as you want me.” Your words have his eyes roam over your body for the first time. Every curve, the smoothness of your skin, and the way the chill in the room already has your nipples hard makes his cock twitch. “I’m a gift from King Joffrey.” That catches his attention. Joffrey barely spared him a glance. Now he was giving him gifts? “You’re…my gift.” You smile warmly. “Yes. Master.” That was new. No one had ever called him that before. He isn’t sure how to feel about it, but it’s far better than being called ‘my lord’. He steps over the threshold and lets the door shut behind him before moving closer. At his approach, you once again bow your head. There’s a gentle air about you. It’s something that isn’t a typical trait to the women found on the Streets of Silk. Not that Sandor was a frequent visitor. Most women couldn’t stomach looking at his scarred face. Even when he paid them, they struggled. What was the point of wasting coin on that?

You, on the other hand, are almost intoxicatingly feminine. It makes him want to press his nose to your cunt and breathe in your scent. He looks down at you, feeling more curious and less irritated than when he first walked in. “You said you belong to me?” You nod. “So, you’ll do anything I ask you to?” You keep your eyes downcast but respond without hesitation. “Yes, Master Hound. It will bring me great pleasure to fulfill your every request.”

A tension builds through his frame. Not out of anger, but anticipation. Anticipation to feel release that he often doesn’t get unless he takes his cock in his hand. “Look at me,” he commands. You do so eagerly, looking at him without a speck of fear. He searches your eyes for the lie, determined to find it. He is the Hound afterall. Usually he could smell a liar from yards away, but with you, he only sees devotion. As if you truly wish to serve him. Most were intimidated or afraid of him, but this is something different. It’s submission. It awakens his more animalistic needs. The part that wants nothing more than to fuck and claim and breed. His unscarred eye twitches as his hand moves to your cheek—to see if you’ll flinch at his touch. But, fuck, you lean into his palm and press your lips to the pad of his gloved tumb. Never once averting your gaze. He lets out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. You’re all his.  He starts to pull his armor and clothes from his body. You sit up on your knees, helping where you can. You manage to pull the gauntlets from his hands and unbuckle his sword belt. But the rest he does. His fingers move too fast and he knows the armor like the back of his hand. You find other ways to make yourself useful, taking items from him and gently placing them down while he throws the rest on the floor. When he’s left in nothing but his pants and boots, your hand lightly runs over the bulge in the front of his pants. Involuntarily, he bucks into your touch, wanting more. However, you make no move to continue past teasing touches. He grunts impatiently, catching your attention. Your eyes meet, your head tilting to the side as you whisper the words…. “Command me, Master.” Command? Why the fuck would he need to do that? Any other whore he’d ever slept with always took matters into their own hands and rushed to get things over with. “Tell me how to please you. I just want to please my Master.” Your pleading tone shoots right to his already hardening cock. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin while his hand moves to the back of your skull. He pulls you in, guiding you closer to his groin.

“Kiss it.” Immediately, you obey, leaving kisses along his clothed cock. Only the linen of his pants separates you, but still he can feel the warmth of your mouth. Sandor lets out a rough growl while undoing the knot at the front of his pants. “Don’t stop.” You coo as sweetly as a dove and your kisses become more passionate as moans escape your parted lips. You hold eye contact with him without fear, without disgust, without judgment. He can’t recall a time when even his fellow King’s Guard was able to look at him, let alone a woman. Everything about this is different. You are different. 

You look at him with desire. It only makes him more eager to sink his cock into you. However, once the cloth falls away to reveal his fully naked form, you sit back on your heels with your feet folded beneath you. You sit with your spine perfectly straight and your hands resting on your knees. You look more like a high born lady than a common whore. So submissive and pretty. “You’re waiting for my command, aren’t you?” His hand comes down to wrap around the length of his aching cock. Your eyes dart to the movement of his hand. You seem transfixed but still manage to respond, “My sole purpose is to give my Master pleasure. I’m your property to do with as you please.”

“My property?” he breathes and starts to slowly stroke himself. He does this more to tease you than himself. It clearly works because you only seem able to nod. A sly grin comes across his features. “You’re my property,” he repeats, louder to refocus you. “A beautiful…little thing…that belongs to me.” Sandor pants between words, stroking himself with a firmer grip.

“Yes, Master,” you moan with a lick of your lips. “I belong to you and only you.”

“Then be a good girl and come suck your Master’s cock.” You rise onto your knees so fast that you almost take him by surprise. Within moments, you’re pushing his hand away and wrapping your own around the base while your tongue traces over the veins in his shaft. “Your cock is so thick,” you moan out. Sandor isn’t sure if you meant to say that out loud but it hardly matters once you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. Your hand and mouth work in tandem—tugging firmly while lovingly sucking. That is…until you drop your hand away and swallow his cock whole. “Fucking Hells,” he swears and involuntarily bucks his hips forward. You hum, tightening your lips around his thickness as you pick up the pace and bob your head up and down. He watches you intently. Dark brown irises burn with lust as you suck him off like your life depended on it. “Filthy thing is enjoying this, isn’t she?” he pants, dick stiffening and pulsing in your mouth. 

You nod with a happy little hum, and Sandor can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his scarred lips. Your mouth is warm and so fucking inviting, like his cock was always meant to be there. He wants more. His hand shoots out to grip the back of your head as thick fingers tangle in the locks of your hair. He moves you up and down at just the right pace. You obey his physical command, allowing him to fuck your mouth while you drool all over him. Sandor is by no means a small man and his cock is no different, but you handle it with skill. The sloppy, wet sounds of you sucking with such enthusiasm makes him feel drunk. The pleasure courses through him, all the way down to his toes. It’s almost too much. And your big, beautiful eyes don’t make it any easier. They’re full of affection while unshed tears prickle at the corners of your eyes from how wide your mouth is stretched open. He slams his cock into your throat, hitting as deeply as you can possibly take him. Your hands and nails dig into his thighs to hold yourself steady. “That’s it,” he grunts, “take it.” You moan and gag with your brows knit together. He would have thought you were in pain if it wasn’t for the blissed expression on your face.

Sandor takes all of you in, wanting to commit the image of you gagging on his cock to memory. So that when you were gone, he’d at least still have that. But that’s when he catches sight of you pressing your thighs together. The blood in his veins sings. You’re getting off on this.

On pleasing him. On having his cock in your mouth. On obeying. Suddenly, having you down on the ground isn’t enough. He forcefully pulls away, slipping his cock out of your mouth. You whine at the loss and lean forward to try and get him back in your mouth, but not even your alluring mouth will keep a man like The Hound from getting what he wants. Bending at the waist, he shoves his hands under your armpits and lifts you up from the ground before throwing you onto his bed. You yelp when your back hits the mattress. Sandor simply grins at your shock from being so easily manhandled.  “Is that cunt as pretty as your face, girl?” Blood rushes to your cheeks, coloring them, but still you open your legs, baring yourself. You’re a soaking, dripping mess. He’s certain he’s never seen a cunt as wet as yours is right now. It makes his throat feel dry…and in desperate need of a drink. Not willing to wait any longer, Sandor sinks to his knees and dives his face between your thighs. His tongue drags along your folds before it grazes your clit. Even at the slightest touch, you sigh and arch into his mouth. “More. Please, give me more.” Your pleas are sweet. So sweet that he’s no longer interested in teasing. He repeats the movement of his tongue but this time uses the flat of it to press firmer against your sensitive bud. You cry out, thighs closing tightly around his head. Sandor grunts, his arms sliding under your legs. He curls them around your thighs and uses his hands to keep your legs apart. With your movements restricted, he smashes his mouth against your clit. His lips wrap around it and suck. You buck and manage to throw a leg over his shoulder. Your foot presses against his broad back, using it as leverage to grind your hips towards his mouth. He smirks, proud that he’s the one eliciting such a response from you. While it’s true he rarely spends his coin on whores, this skill was something he learned long before his days at King’s Landing. In his youth, there had been a servant girl who worked in the kitchens. They had grown up together and thus she hadn’t ever feared his burned face. Exploring one another's bodies had felt natural. That’s how Sandor became acquainted with the taste of women. Once upon a time, they might have been married…if Gregor hadn’t found out and killed her in a jealous rage. Sandor forces the past from his mind. There’s no use in it when he has your cunt filling his senses. He savors the taste on his tongue, using it to flick your clit while sucking on it. You continue to buck and cry out, the pleasure clearly building for you. But he doesn’t want you reaching your peak just yet. He moves away, only slightly. His saliva mixes with your slick. They drip together making you all the more wet. It’s a delicious sight.

“Messy thing,” he praises, and he can feel the way your toes curl against his back. “You know,” he continues, “I usually spend my nights drinking but you’ve interrupted that.” Purposely, he pauses, letting you think he’s actually upset. You whimper, ready to apologize but Sandor speaks over you, his voice huskier than before. “Are you going to make it up to me, girl? And give me something else to drink?” You stumble over your words but still manage to speak, “Y-Yes Master, anything.”

Sandor hums from the back of his throat and swipes your clit with his tongue before answering. “Then be a good little slut and cum on my tongue.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he runs his tongue to your slit, gathering more juices along the way. He probes your entrance before letting it fill you. You gasp in time with his moan. No longer can he taste the wine he was previously drinking. His taste buds are filled with nothing but your cunt. He vigorously pumps his tongue in and out of you. Your hands find his head, fingers tangle in hair in an attempt to tug him in deeper. “Fuckkkk, you’re so good with your tongue, Master!” Usually Sandor hates being touched without permission, but you’re so desperate it feels like he’d be committing a sin if he stopped you.

Besides, you’re dripping down his chin and giving him exactly what he wanted—a drink. But like a man starved, he wants more. He presses his thumb to your clit to stroke it. You throw your head back and sing. It’s the purest music he’s ever heard. 

The louder you moan, the harder his cock throbs.

For the next few moments, the only sounds are your cries of pleasure and his grunts against your core.

It isn’t long before you start trembling, to the point that even your inner thighs shake.

“I…I’m going to–”

You don’t need to finish your sentence for Sandor to know that you’re about to cum. He doesn’t let up the movements of his tongue or the pressure to your clit but still you try to force words out of your mouth. “P-Please. Please can I–?” Realization flashes through him. You were asking for permission to cum. Why you think you needed to ask, Sandor doesn’t know, but Gods if it isn’t the most erotic fucking thing. He moves away just enough to speak. “Go on, girl. Give me what I want and cum.” His tongue plunges back into your depths and you spasm around it. When your orgasm hits, your entire body goes rigid and breathy, unrestrained moans bleed from your throat. His cock twitches wildly in response, precum surely dripping onto the stone floor he’s kneeling on. You’ve coated his tongue with your juices, making Sandor wonder if you’ll do the same to his cock. He works you through your aftershocks while drinking from you, licking up every drop he can.   It's only when you fall limply back onto the mattress that he stops and removes his tongue and fingers from you. He sits back to look you over. You’re even more beautiful with a flushed face and glossed over eyes.

“Thank you for letting me cum, Master,” you murmur politely.

And just when he thought you couldn’t be any more perfect. Rising onto the bed, he grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you towards him. His mouth crashes onto yours, forcing his tongue past your parted lips.

You return the kiss in a flurry of passion while your hands roam freely over his body. Starting from his shoulder, you trail your hands down his bare chest to his hip bones. He moans into your kiss, enjoying the feeling of your soft hands and the way you gently suck at his tongue.

Your hands continue downward until your fingertips brush against his still very hard cock.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk. “Something you want, Little One?” You brush your lips against his with a nod. “Make me belong to you.” “I thought you already did,” he teases gruffly with his hot breath in your face. “You’re my property, remember?” Color blooms across your cheeks, but whether it’s in satisfaction or embarrassment, Sandor isn’t sure. “I am. I belong to you, Lord Hound. I’m your—” He barks over you, cutting you off. “What did I say about that ‘my lord’ shit?” You instantly close your mouth, lips pressing into a thin line at your mistake. Fucking hells. He wanted to fuck you, not scold you. Sandor lets out a breath and forces himself to soften his tone. “I don’t need fancy titles, my name is good enough.” Your expression falls, the color draining from your cheeks. “King Joffrey only referred to you as ‘The Hound’. Is…Is that not your name?” You look upset, bordering on mortified but Sandor can’t stop the gruff laugh that bubbles from his chest. 

“I should have known that slimy little bastard would pull something like that.” You look thoroughly confused. His dark eyes look you over, your once pliable body now stiff as stone. However, it’s the ribbon of his house sigil that catches his attention. It doesn’t have the same appeal now that he knows you don’t know what it means. “And I’m guessing he didn’t tell you the meaning behind this?” he questions bitterly and starts untying it from around your neck. You shake your head ‘no’. “Just that it would please you to see me wear it.” He pulls the ribbon free, but before he can toss it away, you grip his large hand with both of yours. “Tell me? Please, Master, I want to know.” You ask so sincerely that it halts his movements. Your eyes meet, and all his willpower leaves him. “It’s the sigil for my house.” “House?” you prompt in hopes he’ll continue. 

“Clegane.” You smile bright, repeating after him so you could lock the information away forever. Sandor, on the other hand, is too distracted by the new rush of blood that pumps down to his groin. When he doesn’t say anything else, you squeeze his hand gently. “And my Master’s given name?” “Sandor.” “Sandor.” You take your time saying it, as if tasting his name on your tongue. “Sandor Clegane,” you whisper with a smirk, noticing how he starts leaning in closer. He doesn’t stop, forcing you to shift your position and slowly lay back onto the bed. “Master Sandor.”  You moan and he growls. Your legs part to accommodate him and he places a hand beside your head, trapping you beneath him. “You don’t need to call me Master.” Your smirk widens. “But you like it when I do.” He huffs because you’re right. “Fucking vixen,” he snarls and kisses you hard. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders and your legs hike up to his hips, allowing his cock to press against your core. You’re still so warm and wet that it’s almost painful to not plunge himself inside. And maybe he would have if you hadn’t been so smug just now. “Beg,” he commands, while the hand not holding him up grips your neck. “And tell your Master what you want.” His fingers wrap effortlessly around your throat. He doesn’t do this to hurt you, just to apply enough pressure so you know who’s in charge. To his surprise, you moan and tilt your head back to give him better access. “That’s better,” he coos and rewards you by running his tongue from your jawline to the shell of your ear. “Brat just needed to be put back in her place, didn’t she?” His hot breath in your ear gives you goosebumps. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.” “Then prove it.” He gives your throat another squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll behave, I swear.” Your hands run from his forearms, over his muscular shoulders and down his chest until the swell of your breasts are pressed against him. “I just want my Master to claim me. Want to feel him inside.” You pause and rock your hips forward to grind your cunt against his length. “Please, Sandor? Please fuck me.”  It’s his name that does him in. He isn’t used hearing it, let alone someone saying it while asking him to fuck them. He straightens his back and guides your legs to fully wrap around his waist. You continue pleading but instead of giving you a verbal reply, he plunges balls deep inside of you. You both instantly tense. He, because of the tightness of your walls clinging around him, and you, because of the sudden intrusion of his cock demanding to be taken. “That’s it. Taking me so well,” he breathlessly praises, slowly moving out, then back in so you’d have time to adjust. He breathes out, watching his cock glisten from your juices when he pulls out a bit. Your head lulls to the side with a moan, feeling beyond stuffed full but also whole.

“Is this what you wanted, girl? To be speared on my cock and used?” “Yes!” you cry, trying to arch back to get his cock deeper. “Please use me. Ruin me for anyone else.”

At that, he slams into you, not being able to wait any longer. You yelp at the pressure, screaming and twisting your fists into the bedsheets. There’s no way he could keep his pace slow, not when you feel this good melting around his cock. 

You had said you wanted to be ruined. Sandor Celegane might not be a lord, or a knight, or a gentleman, but he could most certainly ruin you with his cock.

He repositions your legs, throwing them over his shoulders so that your feet are by his ears. He’s able to fuck you even deeper now, his balls smacking against you with every brutal thrust.

His rhythm is rough and steady. And with how tightly he holds your legs in place, you can do nothing but lay there moaning and clenching around him. 

“You’ll never forget this. When the next flimsy little knight comes along to fuck you, it’ll be my cock you think about.” 

Your eyes screw shut, the pleasure building in your lower belly. It feels like he’s everywhere, filling your cunt and taking over your mind and body. How you manage to nod in response is beyond you. But a nod isn’t good enough.

“Say. It,” he snarls, punctuating his words with even deeper thrusts. You curl your toes with a whine. “It’ll be your cock, Master! Only your cock.” “Mhmm, good girl.” He looks down at where your bodies are joined and sees his cock, hard, ribbed with veins and coated in your juices as it thrusts in and out of your wet hole. It’s a glorious sight and it has his orgasm threatening to hit, but there’s something he has to do first. And that’s making you cum. He reaches between your bodies and easily finds your clit. He rubs it, strokes it, and draws circles on it until he finds the touch that has you babbling in broken, indecipherable sentences.

“I want you to cum,” he speaks in labored breathing, rubbing your clit while still spearing you on his length. “I want you to cum for me now. ”

For a moment, you fall completely silent, but then it hits. The unfiltered, beautiful howls that accompany your climax. All the while your inner walls close around him in the most delicious way.

He curses, lurching forward as you gush and spasm all over him. It’s too much and he’s quickly following you over the edge, filling you with his cum. Like a cat having their head scratched, an almost purring like sound leaves you at the feeling of him filling you with his seed. It has Sandor feeling dazed as to why that would please you, but his focus is on steadying his breathing as he comes down from cumming for the first time in fuck knows how long. Your breathing is also labored, while your eyes struggle to stay open. It’s clear you’re fighting off sleep. He carefully slips out of you, even more careful not to jostle you as he sits on the edge of the bed. He finds his wineskin from earlier by the foot of the bed. Greedily, he drinks from it until his throat no longer feels dry. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of your naked form. If he was this thirsty, then your throat must be raw after all that screaming. He reaches for you, tugging you into his arms to help you sit up. You whine, eyes fluttering open, but relax when he pulls you to sit between his thighs and leans you against his chest. “Here, this will help soothe your throat.” He hands you the wineskin, which you graciously take. Sandor watches you take long, slow sips. A drop slips past your mouth and drips down your chin to land on your breast. He grins. He likes a woman who doesn't mind getting dirty. You’re just as beautiful now as you were when he first walked in to you demurely sitting on the floor. “Will you tell me your name?”

You lower the wineskin from your lips and say it with a smile. This time it’s he who repeats you, liking the way it rolls off his tongue. You nod, smiling at him before taking another drink. He stands and starts making his way to the basin of water set on a small table in the corner of the room. “Drink as much as you like. I can get more,” he says from over his shoulder as he starts washing away the sweat on his chest and the slick that you’ve managed to coat even his balls in. Afterwards, he puts on a pair of lightweight sleep pants. When he turns back to you, he expects to find you still drinking or dressing, but instead he finds you sitting on his bed and watching him. “Where are your nightclothes?” You fidget uncomfortably, looking away. Sandor grunts under his breath, he should have known this wouldn’t last. “If you don’t wish to stay, then just say so.” The bite in his voice is evident and you snap your head up in his direction. “I-It’s not that!” you protest. “I want to stay. I just…don’t have any clothes.” His brows pull together in confusion, “Joffrey didn’t leave your clothes here for you?” You shake your head ‘no’. That angers him. Joffrey was a callous shit but to leave you with nothing was just cruel. “No personal belongings? How the fuck did he expect you to get home after this?” You flinch, once again looking away. “The King said….” you trail off. “Nevermind, Master.” Your discomfort radiates off of you. Quietly, he fishes out a clean shirt out of a trunk at the end of the bed and makes his way over to you. “Arms up, Little One.”

You lift your head and see the shirt in his hands. You obey and he slips the shirt over your head and helps you dress. “This damn thing is going to look more like a dress on you, but it’ll do until morning.” You pull your knees to your chest while muttering a ‘thank you’. There’s still something bothering you and Sandor is determined to figure out what it is. “Look at me,” he commands, knowing you’ll obey. You do and he continues. “Do you know why they call me ‘The Hound’?” You stare at him in fascination and shake your head. “Because I can smell a lie as easily as I can breathe. So out with it. What’s upsetting you?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip before responding. “King Joffrey told me I didn’t need to pack anything because he bought me from the keeper of the pleasure house. He…” You falter, trying to find the bravery to continue. “He said that if you didn’t wish to keep me once we were through, that he’d pass me around to his other guards until they used me up. Or that maybe he’d kill me himself.” Rage boils in his blood. Not only because Joffrey put you through hell, but because he suddenly can’t bear the thought of another having you. “No one is going to touch what’s mine.” The threat of his words hangs in the air but you look relieved. “You…You mean you’ll keep me here with you?” Sandor nearly chokes because he hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he knew is that he didn’t want Joffrey or any other to get their hands on you. “Is…Is that what you want?” You smile bright, brighter than the summer’s sun. “Nothing would make me happier, Master.” As beautiful as you are, and as lovely as it sounds to have a warm cunt to bury himself in each night, the cold blade of reality cuts through. “Well don’t go making it sound like it’ll be all sunshine and lemoncakes. I’m not by any means a joy to live with and—” But you aren’t listening because you’re too busy crawling into his lap. You straddle him and nuzzle your face into the side of his neck. “Thank you, Sandor,” you whisper against his skin, melting against his body as you make yourself comfortable. No one had ever thanked him in his entire life. He isn’t sure how to handle it. The longer you lay against him, the more a warmth blooms inside his breastbone. He likes the way it feels having you close. It makes him feel things. Things he doesn’t have a name for. You let out a small sigh, seemingly starting to fall asleep while sitting up. He shifts and lays down on the bed with you still tucked against his chest. 

There was no way of knowing what the future held, but Sandor Celange did know one thing….. This was the best damn present he’d ever received.

#lady in writing #sandor clegane #sandor x reader #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane smut #rory mccann

[maknaeswrld]

(if you’re on my taglist would you want to continue to be tagged in other soulmates stories? please comment🫶🫶)

((all soulmates become Y/n in their respective stories, the names are essentially placeholders for their established existence in the world))

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fics #skz fanfic #soulmate au #reincarnation au #rori writes #rori rambles

[rory-cakes]

Alastor's Birdy-HC

AN: Alestor who was married to a woman during his life. she went to heaven and he went to hell.

Alastor was a mystery to everyone

Creepy, scary, and truly evil were things other souls used to describe him

He didn't care about anyone or anything

He found joy in others' misery

No one would expect him to have ever been in love

no one

Then Missy came to visit

"so how's your little birdy doin'?"

who?

"ya know? his wife?"

his what?

"She's not here. she would never be here"

he's not denying it? and here? as in hell?

"YOU WERE MARRIED!?"

"I AM married. we never divorced"

his eye twitches. That wretch of a woman, missy

spill his whole life story, why don't you?

"She went to heaven. She's an angel."

EVERYONE HAS QUESTIONS

no she wasn't forced into the marrige

yes he loved-loves he

no it wasn't Stockholm syndrome

they were married for 25 years before he died

yes she's real

"how do you know she's in heaven?"

she literally ran multiple shelters and the had a separate place for all of the strays she took in

"like you?"

angel wishes he thought before he spoke sometimes

then charlie's like:

"YOU SHOULD WORK ON BEING REDEAMED YOURSELF SO THAT YOU CAN BE WITH HER!!"

and alastor's like

ha- no

he doesn't have the right to be with her again

not after what he'd done...

#x reader #x reader fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #alastor altruist #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #fan fic #rory writes

[sarabethsilver]

It's striking to me that once they're dating, there's no indication that Rory and Jess are sneaking around to be alone together. The show goes out of its way to establish that Jess is more than capable of sneaking up to Luke's apartment completely undetected - he does so many times, including bringing Shane with him at least once. Yet when he's bringing Rory upstairs? He's this level of subtle:

(Even Luke is able to crack this code.)

Another example here, with Jess making this announcement to the entire diner:

(This is officially my favorite Jess jacket.)

Later this season, Luke casually references that Jess and Rory are upstairs "all the time." So frequently, in fact, that he's had time to develop the world's most annoying Supervision System - and yet, Rory and Jess continue to make out up there. Constant uncle interruptions and all.

Because Jess understands, implicitly, that Rory wouldn't wanna sneak around. Just another reason to love him ❤️

#gilmore girls #literati #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory x jess #the things I obsess about while struggling to write my last chapter

[asmeninas]

RORY GILMORE & LOGAN HUNTZBERGER

GILMORE GIRLS - 5X07 - YOU JUMP, I JUMP, JACK

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #logan huntzberger #ggedit #gilmoregirlsedit #roganedit #tuserella #faster at making gifs for my friends than at writing fics for my friends :) #cl

[memento-rory]

➞ 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑼𝑨𝑳.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and ted have been “casual” for months now, and you’re over it. when you tell him you want to be more, ted rejects the idea, and you decide to try to get over him. (requested by anon.)

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: erm it’s a little angsty because i love drama 🧍🏻‍♀️ afab!reader.

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~2.5k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: splitting this bad boy in two. expect the next, sexier part soon! 😗 no beta, we die like men here. if you see a mistake, no you didn’t.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You say, and the hand that is lazily rubbing your back stops.

“What do you mean?” Ted asks, raising his eyebrows at you as you sit up, reaching for your bra and shirt that rest at the end of his bed.

Ted sits up as soon as he sees you getting dressed, reaching out to touch your arm in hopes of stopping you.

“I don’t want to do this casual bullshit anymore.” You tell him with a lazy shrug as you clasp your bra. This is something you’ve been ruminating on endlessly, a mighty need to be something more than casual ever-present in your heart.

“Okay…” Ted’s eyebrows furrow, and he turns his body to face you, sitting up straighter. “Okay, then we’ll stop. No harm done.”

You stare at him incredulously, momentarily dropping your shirt into your lap. “Ted, I don’t want to stop,” You huff, wondering how he can be so dense, “I want to be more. I want to be official.”

Ted stays silent for a moment, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. “I thought you said you were okay with being casual.”

“I was!” You reach for your shirt again, hurriedly pulling it over your head. “Casual I can do, but Ted, whatever we’re doing doesn’t feel casual at all. You can’t treat me like a girlfriend in private and then treat me like an acquaintance in public. It fucks with me.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, but…” Ted ran a hand down his face, clearly a little frustrated at you reneging on your previous agreement. “I’m not looking for anything serious, I was upfront with you about that from the beginning. I just… I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

You stare at him again, your mouth hanging open just slightly as you try to wrap your mind around what he just said. It was such a, frankly, silly thing to say given how he’s been treating you lately. You two have been spending nearly every free second you have together for months, you both have a key to each other’s places, you make dinner together, and you’ve shared a lot of things that neither of you have ever shared with other people. Any time you’re not together, you’re texting each other all of the random thoughts you have, like neither of you can stand to not be in contact with each other.

Not to mention, the sex is anything but casual. Ted takes his time with you, touching and caressing you like he can’t believe you’re real, like you might dissolve under his hands at any moment. He puts you first every time, his own pleasure be damned. Sex with Ted feels like heaven, like worship, like love.

“…Okay,” You nod slowly, getting up from his bed to put your pants on, grabbing your things from his nightstand. “No harm done.” You repeat his words back to him, avoiding his gaze as you leave his bedroom, and then his apartment — maybe for the last time.

God, you think as you stand in front of the mirror, checking your outfit, I do not want to go to this party.

You know Ted will be there, because of course he will. You both share mutual friends, and it’s not like you can ask anyone to pick sides. You would never dream of doing that anyway, but it’s not like anyone even knows you and Ted were hooking up in the first place.

You stare at yourself for a minute, before deciding to change into something a little sexier. Just because Ted isn’t looking for something serious, it doesn’t mean you aren’t. Maybe you could find someone else at this party, someone who would appreciate you in public as much as they do in private.

Really, it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re not asking for Ted to make some big announcement, to plaster your photo all over his social media, to bring you up in videos or anything.

You sigh, trying to soothe yourself. No use getting worked up over something like this.

You’re a catch and everyone knows it.

That statement proves to be true the minute you walk through the door. Heads turn, and you have several people’s attention as you dive headfirst into the party, making yourself a drink and allowing yourself to let loose for the evening.

You spot Ted in a sea of people — of course you do, he stands a head taller than a good portion of the crowd — but you pay him no mind. (Well, you try to at least, but you’re only human. You sneak a few glances here and there, but only when you know he isn’t looking.)

You mingle and laugh with some of your friends, sit down to play a drinking game, and even do a little tipsy dancing with some of the people grooving in the living room. You catch Ted watching you from the other room, slowly sipping from a red plastic cup as someone else tries to get his attention.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

As the night starts to wind down and the music changes from upbeat songs to chill jams, you find yourself standing beside the door frame of the kitchen, where things have slowed down and people have funneled out, cradling your half-empty plastic cup in your hands.

“Hey, look who it is.” Schlatt’s voice reaches your ears before you see him. You turn your head just slightly to watch him walk up to you, stopping a little closer than you’re used to.

“Look who it is.” You repeat, smiling up at him. “How’s it going, Big Guy?”

“Just fuckin’ wonderful, now that I know you’re here, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, leaning up against the doorframe with his hand on the space above your head, “You’re lookin’ good tonight. You havin’ fun?”

You turn your body to face him more, resting your back against the door frame, staring up at him. “For the most part, yeah,” You answer honestly. Sure, there is a part of you that’s capital B Bummed about your situation with Ted, but you have had a good time, and — if the rumors surrounding Schlatt were correct — you could probably have an even better time with him.

“‘For the most part’?” He repeats disappointedly, raising his eyebrows. “Listen,” He says, leaning down closer to you, his face inches away from yours. “Why don’t you tell me how I can make your night better, beautiful.” His voice is lower than you’ve heard it before, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to answer him, ready to tell him that he can take you away from this party and back to his place to show you a good time, but as soon as you start to speak, someone interrupts you.

“Schlatt!” Ted’s voice is chipper, but he claps Schlatt on the back a little too hard to be friendly. “And (Y/N)! What’s up, what’s going on?”

Schlatt doesn’t move from his position, his hand still resting on the doorframe above you, and why would he? It’s not like Ted ever told him about the two of you. As far as Schlatt knows, this is just a friendly interaction.

But you know it’s not. Ted’s smile is far too wide for someone trying to have a normal interaction, and maybe Schlatt will chalk it up to Ted being tipsy, but you can see in Ted’s eyes that he’s pissed.

What does he have to be pissed about? He’s the one that said he isn’t looking for anything. Who does he think he is?

You smile up at Ted, before looking back at Schlatt, “We’re just chattin’. I think we were getting ready to bounce, actually?” You hint at Schlatt, who grins deviously.

“Yeah, sick,” Ted nods slowly, his smile wavering just slightly. If you’d blinked you would have missed it. “Mind if I come too? It’d save me from having to get a Lyft home.”

Oh, my God. He’s cockblocking you. He’s actually cockblocking you.

“I don’t think we’re headed in your direction.” You say, with your own sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Oh, really?” Ted asks, raising his eyebrows, “Where are you guys going?”

“My place.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “Is that okay with you?” You don’t mean to say it, but nevertheless it comes out.

Schlatt can tell something is up, and he quirks an eyebrow curiously. “What the fuck is going on right now? I feel like I’m in the middle of a fuckin’ lover’s quarrel or somethin’.”

Schlatt’s keen observation is met with silence.

“Oh, shit,” He laughs, “I actually am, holy shit.”

“Schlatt—“ You start, but he pushes off of the doorframe, before patting Ted on the shoulder.

“Figure this shit out, man,” He tells Ted, before walking away, still laughing and shaking his head.

“What the fuck, Ted?” You say as soon as Schlatt is out of earshot.

“Don’t ‘what the fuck’ me,” Ted frowns down at you, “What are you doing? Trying to hook up with Schlatt, really?”

You scowl at him. “Yes, really.” You roll your eyes at him, “What’s it to you, anyway? You don’t want me, why do you care if someone else does?”

“I never said that I don’t want—“ Ted sighs a heavy sigh, looking around at the still-crowded party. “Look, can we talk about this somewhere else?”

“We don’t need to talk about this anywhere else. You made yourself pretty fucking clear this morning.”

“Would you just hear me out, please?”

You look at him, and he stares back down at you, a pleading expression on his face. He looks so sincere that you can’t help but give in, no matter how badly you don’t want to.

“Fine.” You spit out, crossing your arms over your chest. “But you’re paying for the Lyft — and we’re going to my place. I’m not about to have to leave your place upset for a second time today.”

The ride to your place is absolutely silent, save for the soft music playing from the radio of your Lyft driver’s car. Neither of you really want to hash this out for a complete stranger to hear, so you both stare out your windows in the backseat until the car pulls up to your place.

You don’t wait for Ted as you walk up to your door and unlock it, stepping inside and immediately kicking your shoes off.

Ted enters shortly after, taking his own shoes off, making himself at home like he always does. He follows you over to the couch and you both sit, an almost uncomfortable distance between the two of you.

“Well?” You say expectantly, looking over at him.

“Okay, look, you have every right to be pissed right now—“

“Yeah I do—“

“(Y/N),” Ted sighs, turning his body to face you, “Can you just let me talk?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding, permitting him to continue.

“I don’t want to be casual either.” Ted starts, and your eyebrows furrow before you can register making a face.

“Then why did you tell me no? What’s changed since this morning?” You cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing even deeper as you think about what had gone down this morning.

“I don’t like how it felt to see you with someone else — and with Schlatt, of all people.”

You release a frustrated sigh, standing up from the couch. “At least he seemed genuinely interested in me.” You snark, making your way to your kitchen. You could use a drink right about now if you’re going to rehash this argument.

Ted’s up in a flash, following after you. “(Y/N), I’m interested in you.”

You open your fridge and pull out a drink, rolling your eyes where Ted can’t see. “Really, Ted? Because it seems you’re only interested in me when someone else is.” You pop the top off your drink and toss it in the trash can.

“That’s not fair.”

You nearly slam the fridge shut, whipping around to face him. “Who are you to talk about fair?” You laugh, mirthless. “I’ve been playing by your rules for months but I want to make my own rules and suddenly it’s not fair.”

Ted opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him, stepping closer to him, until you’re right in his face. “What’s not fair is stringing me along and treating me like you… like you fucking love me or something in private and then acting like you barely know me in public, like we’re fucking coworkers, despite the fact that you know me more intimately than anyone else in this world.”

“Okay! Okay, you’re right, fuck.” Ted huffs out, rubbing at his temples. “I’ve been a real asshole. I know that.”

He leans back against the countertop, staring over at you with a soft expression. “What I said earlier was fuckin’ stupid. I don’t just want you because I don’t want you to be with someone else.” He bites his lip, pausing to search for the right words. “Look, it’s not… easy, being in the public eye, okay? I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious because I don’t want you to have to deal with assholes on the internet just for existing near me.”

Your own expression softens at his explanation, but you still scowl just a little. “Ted, that should be my decision then, not yours. I’m a big girl, I can handle that shit.”

“I know that.” Ted nods, “I know. I should have just said that in the first place, but (Y/N), I really care about you. Like, a lot, and it would fuckin’ kill me if somebody were to say something mean about you.”

“Like I care,” You can’t help but roll your eyes. You have never and will never care about what any stranger behind a screen has to say about you. “Ted, all that matters is you and me. I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else has to say about it.”

Ted reaches his hand out for you, and as you take it, he pulls you close to him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss on top of your head. “I want to be with you for real. I’m sorry I was a fucking idiot about it.”

You set your drink down on the counter beside him before wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. “It’s okay. I get it. You were worried about me, even if you went about it in a real roundabout way.” You tease. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it up to me.”

You pull back a bit to look up at him and find him smiling down at you mischievously.

“I can think of a few ways.” He murmurs, before switching positions with you to hoist you up onto the counter.

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as his lips find yours, and everything feels normal again.

#ted nivison x reader #ted nivison x you #anon request #rory writes #requests are open! :)