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patrixjia · 24 hours ago

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No Ordinary Groupie

Plot Overview: You’re Bang Chan’s groupie. It started as a no-strings-attached fling, just the thrill of being close to him after the concerts. But as the nights blur together, so do your feelings—his and yours. What began as fun and games quickly becomes something more complicated, and you’re left wondering if this was ever just about sex or if you’re falling for the one person you can’t have.

Warnings: smut, explicit content, angst, lust/passion, angry sex, emotional intensity, tension and jealousy, explicit language, a bit of degradation, happy ending

☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧☆☆･ﾟ:✧☆･ﾟ:✧

It started like any other concert. The deafening music, the blinding lights, the collective energy of thousands of voices singing in unison—it all blended into one euphoric moment. But you never imagined you’d be standing here, watching him from across the room, a little too close for comfort. The sweat on his skin, the intensity in his eyes as he scanned the crowd—it was like his gaze lingered a fraction too long. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but somehow, it always felt like he was looking right at you.

You’d told yourself it was just a coincidence the first few times. You were just another fan in the crowd, right? Another face in a sea of screaming STAYs, eager for a glimpse of their idol. But now? Now you were here backstage, lingering in the shadows, waiting for him like it was your spot. You’d slipped past security more times than you cared to count, your secret handshake with the staff—one only they seemed to know—making it easier each time. You’d been to so many concerts now that your face had become familiar, and with each show, your role seemed to shift. You weren’t just a fan anymore. You were his groupie.

You never thought it would be like this. Hell, you didn’t even know what the fuck a ‘groupie’ really was until it was you—until you were the one he pulled behind closed doors, the one he made sure was always there after the show, the one who stayed when everyone else was long gone. The one he’d kiss like it meant something, only to vanish into the night, leaving you with nothing but the thudding of your heart and the memory of his touch.

It had started with stolen moments—quick glances across the stage, backstage conversations as if no one else was watching. The text messages, casual at first, but slowly, gradually becoming something more. His words would linger, text after text, like a breadcrumb trail leading you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you wanted to go. You’d told yourself you’d stay detached—that you’d just enjoy the ride, keep things light, and move on. But every time he looked at you, every time his hand brushed against yours, every time he grinned like there was a secret only the two of you knew… it became harder and harder to pretend it was just about the music.

The first time you caught his eye? It was during the encore of a show. You’d always thought of him as just another idol, another guy performing for a crowd. You’d seen plenty of famous faces before, but there was something different about him. Maybe it was the way his energy filled the entire room, the way he didn’t just perform but became the music. Maybe it was the intensity in his gaze as he swept over the crowd, his eyes scanning the sea of people until they landed on you.

You didn’t think it was anything special at first. A passing glance, nothing more. You were just another face, another member of the audience, right? But as the seconds stretched on, his gaze didn’t waver. It felt like he was staring at you—like he saw something there that you didn’t even see in yourself. And that look… it was like an unspoken promise. A silent invitation to something you couldn’t name.

After the show, you weren’t expecting anything. But somehow, you found yourself in a coffee shop the next morning, standing in line, hoping to grab a caffeine boost to get through the day. You’d been going about your usual routine, convinced that meeting him the night before was just a one-off encounter. But fate had other plans.

There he was. Chan. In the same coffee shop, no more than a few steps away. You froze, unsure if you should act like you hadn’t seen him or just pretend it wasn’t a big deal. But then, he turned, his smile wide and unbothered like this was the most normal thing in the world.

“I swear, I’m not following you,” he said, his voice light, playful, as he slid into the seat across from you like he had every right to be there.

You couldn’t help but laugh, an involuntary response to the absurdity of it all. “You’re following me now?”

He smirked, taking a sip from his coffee, looking way too comfortable for someone who was supposed to be famous. “I’m just getting coffee. You happen to be in my favorite spot.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, barely containing the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sure. You just happened to pick the same coffee shop on the same day at the same time…”

He shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, alright. You got me. But I’m glad I ran into you.”

There was no hiding the smile that broke across your face. Of course you were glad. After everything that had happened the night before, you both knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. This wasn’t just a random meeting. This was something—something that had started the night before and would continue whether you admitted it or not.

By the time you made it backstage that second night, you were already in too deep.

The whole backstage area felt like it belonged to him—every corner, every hallway, every whispered conversation. It wasn’t the music that kept you there anymore; it was him. The way he looked at you when no one else was watching. The way he touched you, lingering just a bit too long when no one was looking, his fingers brushing your skin like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way he made you feel like you weren’t just a face in the crowd, but someone who mattered to him.

And then, that first time—that first night.

You couldn’t quite remember how it happened, only that it was like everything changed in an instant. One minute, you were standing there, talking casually, as if the world hadn’t shifted under your feet. And then, the next moment, his lips were on yours, demanding, soft, and completely overwhelming. His hands were everywhere—under your shirt, pulling you close, pressing you against him like you were the only thing that mattered.

You could have stopped it. You could have pulled away, told him it was a mistake, told him you weren’t the type of girl who did this. But you didn’t. Because it felt right. In a way you couldn’t explain, it felt like this was where you were supposed to be.

And here you are again. Another concert. Another night where everything feels different. The lights are still blinding, the music still pounding in your chest, but this time, you don’t feel like you’re part of the crowd. This time, you’re his. The one he seeks out, the one he texts between shows, the one who’s always there in the background, waiting for him. It’s complicated, it’s messy, and it’s nothing like what you imagined when you first moved to Seoul.

But you can’t deny it anymore. It’s not just the music you’re here for. It’s him. And now, you’re his ‘regular groupie’. The one who knows all the backstage secrets, the one who gets special treatment, the one who stays long after the lights go out. You’re not just another fan anymore, and neither is he.

You never thought you’d be here. But then again, you never thought you’d end up falling for him.

The moment the final song ends, the roar of the crowd still vibrates through the walls of the venue. The adrenaline is thick in the air, the members still breathless from the performance, their bodies damp with sweat, grins plastered across their faces as they stumble off stage. The energy is chaotic, electric—post-show euphoria still buzzing in their veins.

You’re already waiting in the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, leaning against the wall with a casual ease that only comes from experience. This isn’t your first time here. You know exactly how this goes.

The first to spot you is Seungmin, his eyes lighting up as he jogs toward you. “Hey, look who’s here!” he calls, loud enough to get the others’ attention.

“Y/N!” Han beams, his voice slightly hoarse from performing but still bright with excitement. “How was it? Did we kill it or what?”

Felix, still buzzing with energy, practically bounces on his heels as he waits for your answer, while Hyunjin shoots you a knowing grin from behind him, tossing his sweat-damp hair out of his face.

“You guys were insane,” you say with a wide smile, your voice genuine. “Every show I go to, you just keep getting better. The energy, the performance, everything was unreal.”

Chan appears through the group, his presence like gravity, pulling your attention immediately to him. He’s still catching his breath, his hair a mess, sweat glistening on his skin, but his eyes—his eyes are locked onto you, unreadable yet intense.

Then, that smile. The slow, lazy curve of his lips, the kind that makes your stomach tighten, your pulse spike.

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice just low enough for you to hear over the chaos of the dressing room.

His arm finds your waist like it belongs there, fingers pressing lightly against the small of your back as he pulls you in. It’s subtle, almost casual, but the warmth of his body against yours is anything but. It’s a quiet claim, one that doesn’t need to be spoken.

The others, used to this by now, don’t bat an eye. They just keep laughing and talking, still riding the high of the show.

Then, Chan leans in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Come back to the dorm with us. Little afterparty, just to celebrate.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There’s something behind those words—something heavier than just a casual invitation.

“And after a few drinks?” you tease, your voice low, playful.

His smirk deepens. “Something more,” he promises, fingers subtly squeezing at your waist.

You pretend to consider it for a second before giving a small nod. “Alright. You convinced me.”

From the side, Minho watches the exchange with a quiet knowing. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t call Chan out for the way he looks at you, for the way his hands linger on you longer than necessary. He just observes, his gaze sharp, understanding something that maybe even Chan himself isn’t ready to admit.

Chan pulls away, satisfied, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something deeper, something unspoken.

“We’ll head out in a bit,” he says, turning toward the others. “Y/N will meet us there.”

You already know the drill. You can’t just walk out with them, not without risking recognition. So, as the members pile into their usual cars, you’re led to a separate vehicle—a staff car, discreet, barely noticeable.

You settle into the backseat, the events of the night replaying in your mind, but most of all—his voice, that promise lingering in the space between your ribs.

Something more.

And you wonder, not for the first time, if either of you even knows what that really means anymore.

The atmosphere in the dorm is lively, the kind of buzz that lingers long after a good show. The music is playing low in the background, the members scattered across the living room, sprawled on couches or sitting on the floor. Empty soju bottles and half-eaten snacks litter the table, proof of the celebration already in full swing.

You’re comfortably seated on the couch, a half-filled shot glass of soju in hand, the warmth of alcohol already settling pleasantly in your veins. The energy is light, effortless, the conversations flowing easily between teasing and reminiscing about the night’s performance.

“You seriously nailed that last verse, Jisung,” you say, pointing your glass at him before taking a sip. “You looked possessed out there.”

Jisung laughs, leaning back with a smug grin. “Possessed by talent, obviously.”

“Possessed by something,” Felix chimes in, making the group chuckle.

From beside you, Chan snorts, shaking his head. He’s sitting close—not close enough to be obvious, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the awareness that’s always there between you two. His arm is stretched over the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing the ends of your hair, subtle but deliberate.

You glance at him, playful. “You were good too, I guess.”

Chan scoffs, tilting his head with an amused smirk. “Guess?”

You hum, tapping a finger against your chin as if you’re in deep thought. “Yeah, I mean… you were okay,” you tease, dragging out the word just to rile him up. “Not bad for a guy pushing thirty.”

The others burst out laughing, while Chan gapes at you, feigning offense. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just saying,” you shrug, barely biting back your grin.

“You know what?” He leans in a little, voice low enough that only you can hear. “I’ll remember that later.”

Your stomach flips at the weight in his tone, at the underlying promise beneath his words. You tilt your head, smirking. “Oh? You gonna prove me wrong?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “You have no idea.”

Before you can retort, Changbin—who has definitely had one too many shots of soju—suddenly flops onto the couch beside you, his broad arm slinging over your shoulders.

“You’re so fun to have around, Y/N,” he says, his voice slightly slurred but affectionate. “Seriously, why aren’t you here all the time?”

You chuckle, leaning into his side without much thought. “Because I have a job, Binnie.”

He makes a dismissive sound, tightening his hold around you in a half-hug. “Your job should be hanging out with us.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn’t say anything. Jisung snickers behind his glass.

You just shake your head, entertained. “Oh yeah? I should just quit and become your full-time party companion?”

“Yes!” Changbin exclaims, grinning. His hand slides down to your waist, resting there casually, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over the fabric of your shirt. It’s nothing too much, nothing you haven’t seen before—Changbin is always like this when he drinks, all warm affection and teddy bear energy.

So you don’t think anything of it. You indulge him, letting him rest his head against yours, laughing when he dramatically sighs and says something about how comfortable you are.

But you don’t see the way Chan’s jaw tenses.

He’s watching. Burning.

The fingers resting on the couch behind you curl into a fist. His easygoing posture remains the same, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, a flicker of something sharp in his expression.

Because he knows what Changbin is doing.

It’s not random, not just the usual drunk affection. No, Changbin is making a point—a very deliberate one. Because unlike you, he knows exactly how deep this runs for Chan.

And Chan hates it.

Hates how easily you lean into it. Hates how you laugh, how you let Changbin touch you so freely. Hates how unbothered you look—how it doesn’t even register to you that this might be a problem.

Because to you, this is just fun.

But to him?

This is his worst fucking nightmare unfolding in real-time.

Still, he doesn’t say anything.

Not yet.

He just grips his shot glass a little too tight, jaw clenched, the warmth in his veins now burning.

And the worst part?

Changbin smirks at him from over your shoulder.

Like he knows.

Like he’s challenging him.

And fuck—Chan hates losing.

Changbin hasn’t moved from your side. If anything, he’s only gotten bolder, the soju clearly fueling his every action.

His fingers, once resting innocently at your waist, now trace absentminded patterns over your hip. His arm around you lingers a little too long, his body leaning into yours just enough that the line between friendly and something else starts to blur.

And then there’s the flirting.

“Come on, Y/N,” Changbin says, voice playful, slurred just enough to be noticeable. “You sure you don’t wanna quit your job and just be my personal cheerleader?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh? Yours specifically?”

“Obviously,” he grins. “I’d treat you right, you know? Spoil you. Carry you around the house if you’re too tired. You’d never have to lift a finger.”

From across the room, Jisung snorts. “Dude, you can barely carry your own weight when you’re drunk, let’s be serious.”

Changbin ignores him, his focus entirely on you. “Think about it, though,” he hums, his fingers lightly drumming against your thigh now, his voice dipping into something suggestive. “Bet you’d love the attention.”

You scoff, nudging him playfully. “You’re full of shit, Binnie.”

But you’re smiling, entertained by his antics. Because to you, this is just how he is—warm, affectionate, a little ridiculous when he drinks.

You don’t notice the way the room has shifted.

The way everyone has gone quiet.

The way Chan hasn’t said a single fucking word.

But the others? They see it.

Felix glances between the two of you and Chan, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Jisung raises an eyebrow, like he’s waiting for the inevitable.

And Minho—Minho just sighs, shaking his head slightly, because he knows. Knows exactly what Changbin is doing.

And he knows exactly why it’s working.

Because across from you, Chan is seething.

His fingers grip his shot glass so tightly his knuckles have gone white. His jaw is locked, his breathing slow and measured, like he’s forcing himself to keep it together.

But his eyes.

His eyes are burning, locked onto every single movement, every single touch, every single word that leaves Changbin’s mouth.

And then, Changbin—fucking Changbin—takes it one step further.

He turns his head, leans in just a little closer, his lips near your ear as he murmurs, “Or maybe you already like all the attention you’re getting, huh?”

And that’s it.

There’s the sharp, sudden scrape of glass against wood as Chan slams his drink onto the table, standing up so abruptly that the entire room freezes.

His chair scrapes back against the floor, his movements tight, controlled—but his expression?

Fury.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The words slice through the air, low and dangerous, his voice taut with restrained anger.

You blink, startled, finally looking up at him. “What?”

But Chan isn’t looking at you.

He’s staring directly at Changbin, his eyes dark, his body tense, barely keeping himself in check.

Changbin, to his credit, doesn’t back down. If anything, he looks satisfied, like he’s been waiting for this.

“What?” he echoes, feigning confusion. “What’s the big deal, hyung?” His voice is light, taunting. “I mean… after all, you’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”

Silence.

A thick, suffocating silence that stretches through the room.

Chan’s entire body locks up.

And the worst part?

You feel everything shift.

Because the way Chan stiffens—the way his breath catches—tells you everything.

This isn’t just about Changbin being drunk.

This isn’t about harmless flirting.

This is about something else entirely.

And suddenly, you get it.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

The tension in the room is thick, suffocating.

No one moves. No one breathes.

And then—Chan laughs.

But it’s not his usual laugh. It’s not warm, not full of amusement.

No, this is something sharp, something bitter, something that barely conceals the sheer rage simmering beneath his skin.

He tilts his head slightly, his jaw clenched so tightly you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. His hands ball into fists at his sides, muscles tensed like a predator about to pounce.

“Say that again,” Chan says, his voice dangerously low.

His tone makes the hairs on your arms stand up.

Changbin leans back slightly, but his expression is unapologetic, his mouth curling into something almost challenging. “I said,” he repeats, slow, deliberate, “what’s the big deal, huh? You’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”

The second time he says it, the words sting.

Because now you’re fully aware—of the way Chan’s fists are shaking, of the barely contained fury in his eyes, of the way his entire body looks like it’s about to snap.

But most of all—you’re aware of your own reaction.

Of the way your stomach twists.

Of the way your chest tightens.

Because it’s true.

That’s what Chan’s always said. That’s the unspoken rule between you two, the line that’s been drawn and reinforced over and over again.

And yet—he’s standing there, looking like he wants to fucking kill Changbin for just saying it out loud.

The air crackles, seconds stretching into an eternity.

And then—Chan moves.

Faster than you can register, he lunges.

The table between them rattles as Chan grabs a fistful of Changbin’s shirt, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart.

“You think you’re funny?” Chan growls, voice thick with barely contained rage. “You think this is a fucking joke?”

Changbin’s smirk falters slightly, but he doesn’t look scared. If anything, he looks vindicated.

“Oh, I know it’s not a joke,” he says, his voice lower now, something pointed in it. “But you keep acting like it is. Maybe it’s time you fucking admit it, Chan.”

Chan’s nostrils flare, his fingers tightening in Changbin’s shirt.

“Chan,” Minho warns, standing now, his voice calm but firm.

But Chan isn’t listening. His breathing is heavy, his entire body coiled, seething with something primal.

And then—Changbin glances at you.

Right at you.

And his next words are for you, not Chan.

“You really think this is just sex?” Changbin asks, voice quieter, almost pitying. “Because if you do—” His gaze flicks back to Chan, and he smirks. “Then why is he about to beat my ass over it?”

Something cracks in Chan’s expression.

Like something inside him has just snapped open, raw and exposed.

You feel it happen.

And it makes your heart fucking race.

Before anyone can react, Chan lets go of Changbin’s shirt—but only to turn on you.

The shift is instant. One second, he’s staring Changbin down like he’s about to throw a punch—the next, he’s grabbing your wrist, tight, his grip possessive.

Your breath catches.

“Come with me,” Chan says, voice low, rough—demanding.

You freeze. “Chan—”

“Now.”

The authority in his tone leaves no room for argument. He’s not asking.

And you—fuck, you should resist. You should say something, should call him out for how he’s acting.

But you don’t.

Because the way he’s looking at you—the fire in his eyes, the sheer desperation laced beneath the anger—sends a rush of heat down your spine so intense it almost knocks the air out of you.

So when he pulls you toward his room, his grip unrelenting, his movements rough, you don’t fight it.

You follow.

And the moment the door slams shut behind you, you know exactly what’s coming next.

And fuck—you want it.

The second the door slams shut, Chan has you.

Your back barely hits the wood before his mouth is on you, crushing against yours in a kiss that is desperate, furious, all teeth and tongue and raw need.

You gasp into it, barely able to keep up as his hands roam—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, pressing you against the door like he needs you there.

And fuck—you feel it.

The anger. The frustration. The jealousy that’s been burning in him, now spilling out in the way he holds you, in the way he devours you.

This isn’t just sex.

This is a claim.

You barely have a second to process before he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head against the door, his breath hot against your mouth.

“You think this is just fucking?” he growls, his voice rough, dangerous. “That what you think, huh?”

Your breath hitches.

“Chan—”

“Answer me.”

You swallow, your body burning beneath his touch. “I—”

But you can’t. You can’t answer, because you don’t know.

Because the way he’s looking at you right now—like he needs you, like he hates that he needs you—makes your head spin.

His grip on your wrists tightens, his body pressing flush against yours, pinning you there.

“Changbin touches you once,” he grits out, his jaw clenched, “and suddenly you forget who you belong to?”

Your stomach drops.

Your lips part, but no words come out.

And Chan notices.

His eyes flick between yours, something dark flashing in them—something possessive, something dangerous.

“That it?” he breathes, his voice low, pressing in even closer. “Say it.”

Your body shudders.

Because you can’t.

Because the moment you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a ragged, “Chan—”

And that’s all it takes.

Something inside him fucking snaps.

Suddenly, his grip breaks—only for his hands to move fast, dragging down your arms, over your shoulders, grabbing your hips as he spins you around, pressing your front against the door now, his chest firm against your back.

“You want me to remind you?” he murmurs darkly against your ear, his hands sliding under your shirt now, gripping at your bare skin. “Want me to show you?”

Your breath stutters, your fingers flexing against the door.

“Chan—”

“Say yes,” he rasps. “Say fucking yes.”

And fuck—fuck—you do.

“Yes.”

And then?

All hell fucking breaks loose.

The second the word yes leaves your lips, Chan moves.

His hands yank at your clothes, his patience completely shattered. The shirt you’re wearing is gone in seconds, peeled off like it’s offended him just by existing. His fingers dig into your waist, pressing you harder against the door, making sure you feel just how much he wants this—wants you.

“Fucking teasing me all night,” he grits against your ear, his breath hot, his tone dangerous. “Letting him put his fucking hands on you like it’s nothing.”

You shudder, your forehead falling against the door as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, dragging them down your hips, leaving you bare.

“I—”

“You what?” he interrupts, his palm smacking against your thigh before gripping at the flesh, kneading hard. “Didn’t notice? Didn’t think it was a big deal?”

You whimper at the sheer possessiveness laced in his voice, at the way his hands are claiming you.

“Didn’t think it’d fucking matter,” you gasp, your cheek pressing against the cool wood.

Chan laughs—but it’s dark, bitter.

“Didn’t think it’d matter?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. “Look at where you fucking are right now, baby. Look at what I’m about to do to you.”

His hands are everywhere—gripping, marking, making sure you feel him. His breath is ragged, his movements rough, his usual careful touches completely gone.

Because tonight isn’t about taking it slow.

It’s about making a fucking point.

You belong to him.

And by the time he’s done with you—you won’t forget it again.

Chan’s hands are everywhere—gripping, pulling, forcing you closer to him with each sharp motion. He’s barely holding on to the last sliver of control, and it’s obvious in the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his breath comes out in heavy, uneven pants.

His mouth trails down your neck, biting harshly at your skin, marking you like a fucking claim.

“You think you can tease me like that?” he spits, his voice hoarse with frustration. “Think you can let him touch you and nothing’s going to happen? You really think you’re just gonna waltz in here and walk out untouched?”

The anger in his tone is palpable, each word hitting you like a blow, each word reminding you how much he wants this, how much he’s burning for it.

You can barely hold yourself steady against the door. His hands are pulling at your underwear, tossing it aside with the same force as the rest of your clothes, stripping you of any semblance of control.

You’re shaking, your mind spinning as you finally understand the depth of his frustration. This is no longer about just sex—it’s about him needing to own you in the worst way possible. He’s not asking for permission. He’s demanding it.

His fingers slide between your legs, making you flinch at the roughness of the touch. He’s not being gentle. He’s not being careful. He’s giving you exactly what you’ve awakened in him—a need, a hunger that won’t be tamed.

“You’re mine,” he growls, voice low and dark. “Mine to fuck, mine to touch. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You gasp, his fingers moving faster now, pushing you closer to the edge with each rough motion, but you don’t know if it’s because of him or the frustration rising inside you.

“Chan—please…” You don’t know if you’re begging for mercy or for more, but he’s not stopping.

“You want it? Want me to fuck you like you’re begging for it?” He growls, his hands pulling at your hips, guiding you to him. The heat from his body feels like a furnace behind you, and you’re desperate for it, desperate to feel all of him.

Without warning, he slams into you—hard, unforgiving.

You moan, your hands scrambling against the door for balance as he begins a pace that’s frantic, angry. There’s no rhythm, no gentleness. Just a fucking need to feel you, to claim you, to show you who you belong to.

Each thrust is a punishment. Each movement feels like an explosion of frustration, of desire that has finally been set free. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, but it’s not enough to calm the storm between you.

The only thing that matters is the sound of his voice—growling, demanding, pushing you to the edge of everything.

His hands grab your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his mouth now ravaging your skin like he’s trying to mark you for good. His words are gritted out in between thrusts, filled with venom and need.

“You think you’re just gonna walk away from me? Think I’ll let you leave here, like nothing ever happened?” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “You’re fucking wrong.”

You can barely breathe, your body giving in to him, to the need, to the rage he’s pouring into you. The heat between you is suffocating, overwhelming.

You’re his. In this moment, you’re nothing but his.

And when the pressure builds to a point where you can’t take it anymore, you give in, your body shattering around him, your fingers gripping at the door for dear life.

But he doesn’t stop.

He keeps fucking you, pulling you back into him with an intensity that makes everything burn.

You hear him curse under his breath, and with a final, powerful thrust, he follows, his body jerking against yours as he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid to lose the one thing that’s finally his.

The two of you are left panting, sweating, your bodies still locked together.

And as he pulls away slightly, his hands find your hips again, guiding you back toward the door.

Neither of you says a word. Not yet.

The silence between you is heavy. Too heavy.

But Chan doesn’t look at you with the same anger anymore. There’s something darker in his eyes, something that hasn’t quite settled yet.

And you know.

This isn’t over.

Chan’s hands are back on you before you can even catch your breath. He grabs your arm, tugging you towards the bed with a force that makes your heart race. He’s silent, but the anger in his eyes is louder than any words he could say. There’s no softness in the way he touches you, no tenderness, just an urgency that makes everything else disappear.

He doesn’t give you a moment to think before he’s pushing you down onto the mattress, positioning you with a swift, almost harsh movement. The edge of the bed digs into your knees, and you don’t have the chance to protest before he’s behind you, his hands gripping your hips to steady you.

“You don’t get to act like this,” he growls, voice thick with frustration. There’s no hesitation, no slowing down, and it’s clear this is no longer about lust—it’s about something deeper, something darker, something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for way too long.

You feel the cool air against your skin as he presses against you, his body hard and unforgiving. His breath is hot on your neck as he speaks again, each word a harsh reminder of everything that’s been building.

“Thought you could just waltz in here and let him put his hands on you,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Thought you could just—”

Before he can finish the thought, he thrusts into you, a sharp, punishing movement that makes your body stiffen in response. The pain is quick, the intensity raw, and there’s no gentleness in his touch—this is his punishment. For everything.

His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and the way he moves is rough—demanding, punishing, as if he’s trying to carve the frustration out of him.

You can’t breathe properly, every thrust pushing you further down, the bed creaking beneath you, but it’s almost impossible to focus on anything other than the overwhelming force with which he’s taking you.

“This is what happens when you act like a slut,” he growls, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”

You want to answer, want to push back, but your words get caught in your throat as he pulls you back to him again. You’re lost in this—lost in the anger, the tension, the sheer intensity of what he’s doing.

His grip on you doesn’t loosen. It tightens with every movement, as if he’s afraid to let you go. His body presses against yours, his breath ragged in your ear, his voice demanding, possessive.

“You don’t walk away from me,” he spits, the words almost a command, a declaration of his need, his desire, his control.

The rawness of the moment, the way he’s fucking you in such a frantic, desperate way, makes everything inside you twist, your body responding to his anger, to the heat, to the frustration.

And when he finally speaks again, his voice lower this time, softer almost, it feels like the weight of the moment hits you. “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

As the tension between you both builds, Chan’s movements become more frantic, more desperate. The anger, the frustration, the unspoken emotions—everything is tangled together in this moment. And as his body presses into yours with a final, powerful thrust, a gasp escapes your lips. His name slips out in a breathless moan, and everything inside you breaks, the pressure, the need, the raw energy finally unraveling.

He follows right behind you, his body tense and straining as he shudders, pushing himself deeper with one last, heavy motion. His hands dig into your sides, holding you in place as he rides out the last waves of his release, his breath harsh in your ear. The world seems to slow down as you both find your rhythm, as the energy between you finally begins to settle.

Chan, still pressed against your back, stays there for a moment, both of you still tangled together, unable to move just yet. His fingers slowly loosen their grip on your waist, but he doesn’t let go. The weight of his body on yours is comforting, almost possessive, and his breath fans over your ear.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice rough and low, like he’s barely holding it together. His lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of heat behind. “I fucking love fucking you.”

The words hang in the air, loaded with meaning, and the rawness of the moment lingers as the intensity of the night finally starts to settle.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his gaze heavy, his chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. There’s something in his eyes—something possessive, something soft, but raw all at once. He’s still trying to piece together the storm that just passed between you both.

He doesn’t move right away. Neither of you does. And even though the anger has died down, the connection is undeniable now, clearer than ever.

As Chan pulls away, the silence between you both feels heavier than the storm of emotions that just ravaged the room. Your heart is still pounding, your skin flushed, but there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Everything is so intense, and yet there’s something lingering that feels like it should have been addressed—something more.

You push yourself up, your legs shaky as you sit on the edge of the bed, the cool air feeling sharp against your heated skin. The satisfaction from moments ago seems to slip away, replaced by something darker, something uncertain. You want to understand, but you can’t.

Your voice trembles, shaky with frustration, as the tears start to pool behind your eyes. You look at him, his gaze still soft but guarded, his chest rising and falling with every breath. But you can’t ignore the feeling creeping up inside you—the anger, the confusion, the hurt.

“That’s all?” You say, your voice tight. “You just love fucking me?”

The words taste bitter in your mouth, like they don’t even belong to you. You never thought you’d be the one asking these questions, and yet, here you are, lost in the aftermath of his raw need.

Chan’s silence stretches, his jaw clenching, eyes still on you, but it’s like he’s struggling to form an answer. He’s not the one caught in the mess this time—it’s you.

“I don’t fucking understand, Chan!” You stand up now, unable to stay still, your body trembling with frustration. “We do this over and over, but you don’t even talk about it. Don’t even acknowledge it.”

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “What the fuck, baby?!” The words escape in a rush, the emotion finally pouring out of you. You’re not even sure if you’re angry or heartbroken, but your voice cracks as the tears finally spill over. “What are we doing? What do you want from me?”

You wipe your face, your hands shaking. “Am I just a fucking game to you, Chan? Is that it?” Your breath hitches. “Because I can’t— I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”

That’s when he moves. Fast, like he can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. His hand reaches out, gripping your wrist to pull you towards him with a desperation you weren’t expecting. He’s on his knees in front of you now, his face inches from yours. His voice is low, strained, a mix of frustration and something softer, something deeper.

“No,” he breathes out. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s an intensity in them that makes your heart stop. “No.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing heavily. “It’s not like that.” His voice cracks with the weight of the words he’s finally letting slip.

“I don’t fucking know how to say this,” he admits, his hands shaking slightly as they rest on your waist. His thumb brushes against your skin, almost like he’s grounding himself. “But this… this isn’t just about sex. It never was. I—”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softer now, full of that raw vulnerability that he’s rarely shown. “I care about you, Y/N.”

You feel your chest tighten at the confession, the weight of it crashing into you. It’s almost too much to process, too sudden. You’re a mess, your tears still fresh on your cheeks, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now that’s different. Something that finally feels real.

“I can’t just fuck you and let you walk away,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mean something to me. You’ve always meant something.”

Your heart flutters, but you’re still confused. “Then why the hell do you keep doing this? Why push me away?”

Chan’s expression softens even more, and his hands come up to cup your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “Because I’m scared, okay?” He finally admits, his voice shaky. “I don’t know what to do with this. With us.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. It’s thick, but there’s a vulnerability there that wasn’t before. You’re both breathing heavily, still trying to understand what just happened, what you’ve just confessed to each other.

“I’ve never been good at this… at feeling things, Y/N.” His voice is almost apologetic. “But I can’t lie anymore. I want you. I want more than just the fucking. But I don’t know how to make you understand that.”

You stay quiet, letting his words sink in. You’re still processing everything, but it’s clear that the anger between you is shifting into something else. Something that feels real.

“So, what now?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, your heart still racing but lighter now, finally beginning to understand the rawness of it all.

Chan takes a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping your face as his eyes trace over every detail of your expression. He can see the vulnerability, the confusion, and the hope all mixed together in your gaze. He knows this moment—this conversation—is the turning point, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t screw it up.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lowering his lips to your jaw, placing gentle, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there. His hands slip around your waist, guiding you back onto the bed with careful, deliberate movements. His body hovers above yours, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him, but not pressing—just enough to keep the connection. His gaze is soft now, steady, as he speaks again, voice lower, softer than before.

“Now,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your neck as he speaks, “now you let me take you out on a proper date.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands trail down to your hips, gently caressing the curves of your body. “I’ll buy you flowers,” he continues, his words a whisper against your skin, “take you to a nice place to eat… and we’ll see from there.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the tenderness of his words colliding with the warmth of his touch. It’s so different from the rawness of before—so much gentler, more vulnerable. And something about it makes you give in, your body relaxing beneath his touch, your fingers curling into the sheets.

“I never thought I’d hear that from you,” you say with a soft laugh, a playful edge creeping into your voice despite the emotion you still feel in the pit of your stomach. “A date… flowers? You sure you’re not just saying that to get in my good graces?”

His lips pull into a smirk as he pulls away slightly to look at you, his gaze filled with amusement. He leans in again, kissing your neck softly before brushing his lips against your ear. “Trust me, I’m not that smooth,” he says, his voice teasing, yet sincere. His hands move back up your body, gently running along your arms, the touch almost too tender compared to the previous moments. “I’m just trying to make this right.”

You feel your heart flutter again, his affection suddenly making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. Chan isn’t just saying these things—he’s showing you, in the way he holds you, in the way his touch is no longer rough but soft, deliberate. His hands caress your arms and shoulders, a gentle reminder that the anger has melted away, replaced by something deeper. You meet his eyes again, allowing yourself to fall into this moment with him.

“You always know how to make me feel conflicted,” you say, your lips curling into a smile despite yourself. You run your fingers through his hair, just to feel him a little closer, to keep this connection.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “I’m full of surprises,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. His lips trail down to your collarbone, his hands now resting lightly on your waist as if holding you in place, not to restrain you but to keep you with him. “But seriously, Y/N… I don’t want to keep pretending like this is just a thing that happens. You deserve more. And I want to give you more.”

His words strike you deeper than you expect, and you let out a small breath, the weight of everything sinking in. The sincerity in his voice, in his touch—it’s enough to make your chest tighten with a mix of emotions.

“Then show me,” you whisper, meeting his gaze again. “Show me you mean it.”

He nods, his hand gently brushing the side of your face as he moves even closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, not desperate or angry, but slow, tender. It’s a kiss that feels like an unspoken promise, something more than just the heat between you. It feels like the beginning of something new, something real.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you still tangled together in the quiet aftermath of everything. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Y/N. Just say the word,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

#bang chan #stray kids #skz #bang chan fanfic #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #stray kids fanfic #bang chan x y/n #bang chan skz #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan stray kids

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sakanayasan414 · 3 days ago

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Interesting facts/possible mistranslation in Japanese translation of Sherlock Holmes

I thought people might be thinking I started my Sherlock Holmes journey by bbc or s&co and while there’s nothing wrong with that, I wanted to clarify that I’ve been Sherlokian since my mom bought me the adventure of Sherlock Holmes in 1st grade and I love the canon the most. Though I don’t really read it in Japanese anymore, I wanted to show my love for the translators and just everyone who made it possible for me to enjoy SH without having to learn English as a child.

Names Changes - The name Sherlock Holmes and John Watson once got translated/adapted to 小室泰六 (Komuro Tairoku) and 和田進一 (Wada Shinichi) because people in Japan at that time weren’t familiar with European names. I find this really fun and actually impressive because the names do fit their criteria; Komuro has that royal feel Holmes has and Shinichi is just one of the most common name in Japan like John.

First person pronouns - In Japanese there are many first person pronouns (I, my, me) to the point linguists don’t even know how many there are but main one being 俺 (ore) and 僕 (boku) for men and 私 (watashi) for women and men in formal occasions. So, deciding which first person pronouns characters use is one of the first yet important part of translation. Holmes in most translations use boku which is typical but has that upper class atmosphere when used by an adult which I think fits his personality and background. But one of the translations I read used watashi when he’s talking about his deduction and I feel like it shows how serious he takes his cases as it is almost solely used by men in professional settings. And also it sort of distances the speaker from the rest, meaning he is in his own world when deducing but he’s willing to interact with others when not in case.

Surname? First name? - in most translations, Holmes and Watson call each other by their surnames like in ACD writing but in one of the translations I’ve read put 君 (kun) after their surnames. It is used to show politeness but also affection in old times. I personally love this addition because calling each other by their surnames in Japanese don’t feel the same as it does in English. It feels too distant, not in Victorian men in way but just plain strangers feel. But then First names are too intimate so putting kun just feels right.

The speckled band - ACD played with a word band in this story but in Japanese it is straight up impossible to do so because we don’t have a word like that so what do they do? As shown below, they put extra words on top of words. (Characters on top (バンド) literally reads bando meaning band and characters below (紐 and 群) mean a string and a group so they both mean band) It is commonly done in literature to either suggest double meaning or just an indication of how to read certain Chinese characters because the characters on top are phonogram unlike Chinese characters. Having three alphabets in one language enables us to have that double meaning in other languages.

Possible misinterpretation of the situation - In “A Case of Identity”, Holmes expresses a deep angst towards Windibank by saying “But between ourselves, Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a petty way as ever came before me.” Up until this point, Holmes called him Mr Windibank but he drops the Mr. However, for some reason some translations keep the Japanese equivalent of Mr (さん) , but then he takes out his whip after this conversation. I just don’t think it was a civil conversation that Japanese translators wanted to write as. I think Japanese translators just wanted to write Holmes as an always-calm-man but he is a passionate man when he needs to be.

Possible Mistranslation - From “A Scandal in Bohemia”, Watson talks about what the woman is to Holmes by writing “In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex.” In rather recently published translation, it gets translated to something like “From Holmes’ perspective, she surpasses all other women and makes their presence fade into the background.” Which i don’t think accurately expresses his view on her and women in general. But this might differ from other people’s opinions.

As time passes and many variations get published, translation gets more natural but sometimes they lose the atmosphere of the canon. So I love going back to reading all the versions I can read.

Hope you enjoyed this post! I have A LOT like this in my draft because I’m a language nerd in STEM that can’t find anyone to talk about this with. Also please let me know if you know any fun facts from your language’s translation:)

#sherlock holmes #acd watson #acd holmes #acd canon #acd Sherlock Holmes #acd John Watson #translation #japanese #Japanese Sherlock Holmes #linguistics #language #lost in translation

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emsdevs · 1 day ago

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I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?

No Strings?

a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist

You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.

Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.

“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.

“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.

“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”

As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.

Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.

Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?

Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.

“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.

“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”

“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”

“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.

“Seriously?”

“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”

“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.

Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating.

You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.

You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.

He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him

Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.

taglist: @heartsforjh @irishmanwhore @heartforherbert @jusaints @one-sweet-gubler

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#em's inbox #em's nonnies #em's writing #justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #los angeles chargers #la chargers #nfl #nfl x reader

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lovelycrawfishy · 2 days ago

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Change the Stars (AKA Dollfrin/Porcefrin) AU !!

Not all of the details have been figured out yet, but to make it short, it’s about the cultural exchange between the island and Vaugarde (specifically the change belief). Before the island disappeared in this universe, the belief of the universe and the change belief became heavily intertwined as “The universe is ever changing” according to the people!!

Because of this, there were naturally a lot more people wishing which ended up in Siffrin being brought to life through wish craft. Why weren’t they alive in the first place? Well, because they aren’t exactly human. They were originally made as a porcelain doll, and still keep that form (although larger in scale) but they can move, talk, and feel pain. The party isn’t aware of this fact, as Siffrin purposefully wears clothes that cover his joints and usually wears things that jingle to cover up any slight creaking as he moves.

CW FOR NON-SEXUAL NUDITY!! (Except not really, there’s nothing there)

The party looks pretty similar to canon, just with merged symbols depending on if they believe in/come from the change belief. Odile’s is less apparent since she doesn’t believe in Change, but she still has it incorporated since her mother was Vaugardian. Meanwhile, Mirabelle’s is more apparent seeing as she is an avid believer in change.

The stars can be remembered more easily since they weren’t only associated with the island anymore, although certain constellations as well as black holes still cause extreme headaches.

Fun facts!!

- Siffrin is wary of light since when they’re in direct sunlight, the uncanniness that comes from not being human is far more apparent (Such as abnormally shiny skin, the small crack that couldn’t be covered with his eyepatch from the incident, his eyelids that have a small gap between the lid and the rest of the skull, the list goes on)

- Even though more people had knowledge of the correct wishing rituals, most people who weren’t from the island prayed to the change god instead of the universe when wishing, which wasn’t exactly the most effective. As the Head Housemaiden said, “The Change God is a pretty lazy deity!” And they know nothing about granting wishes <\3

- Siffrin doesn’t remember what brought them to life, but they vaguely remember Islanders saying “he reeked of Wishcraft”

- Siffrin tends to linger in the pottery room more than anywhere else in the house (also, it’s where the sharpening stone is located instead of the room with the book on traps)

- Books about proper Wishcraft as well as astronomy still can’t be read by anyone who can’t remember the language, so as time went on, the star symbol lost a bit of its meaning, some people know what stars and constellations are but not anything more than that

#in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #artists on tumblr #in stars and time #in stars and time fanart #isat #isat fanart #isat siffrin #in stars and time siffrin #siffrin isat #my art #mirabelle in stars and time #isat odile #isat au #change the stars au

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okaysonny · 2 days ago

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Pls can you write James Lee dating headcanons and Diego Kanga dating headcanons. Like they are same person but their personality and mannerism are completely different.

Also your write is very good it sticks to character perfectly and feels great to see a fellow Indian❤️

dating headcanons ╏ james lee + diego kang

a/n: yasss india mentioned 🇮🇳 james/dg...very difficult to grasp...he is kind of annoying ❤️ so these are very much HEADcanons. enjoy!

JAMES LEE

✦ highschool romance troupe obviouslyyy

✦ imagine this scenario: james always sees you studying in school...when everyone has left already. at first he doesn't care, but you're just always in there and he eventually asks what you're doing.

✦ as if you'd admit to james lee the prodigy that you're struggling with school 🤣 you have one sided beef with this man.

✦ surprise, surprise...you end up talking and an acquaintanceship forms.

✦ your relationship with james...it's not really a relationship. more of a situationship, tbh. just an unspoken pining that eventually develops.

✦ james is really angsty in terms of romance, imo. the only time you see each other is when you're there after school and he's come back from another rampage.

✦ i think he'd eventually tutor you, much to your annoyance. but the next day, you show james that you did well on the exam!! he'd play the nonchalant gimmick, but there's something warm settling in his chest.

✦ drops lollipops in your bag when you're not looking 😆 awww

✦ like i said...he's angsty as hell. imagine asking james what he wants to do after school, and he has an ANGSTY look because he'll be committing WAR CRIMES

✦ you bring up boring office jobs, but you figure james lee the prodigy would have a more exciting career anyways. but...he finds himself imagining a normal life, having a boring office job...maybe with you.

✦ for obvious reasons, he can't. james doesn't even entertain the thought.

✦ corny "he only feels this way around you" troupe 🤣😭 one day you decide to ruffle his hair and james suddenly feels like a normal high school kid.

✦ ANGSTY RELATIONSHIP -> ANGSTY ENDING. weather it be you not showing up anymore (after finding out he mutilates people!!) , orrr him not showing up, because he has a path laid out for him.

✦ it's tragic, because there was no intimacy at all!! no hand holding, no kissing, nothing! yet the late hours in the classroom all built up to something. for all his perfection, i'm not sure if james would realise what he's feeling.

✦ when he sees corporate employees laughing together after becoming diego kang, he still wonders what a boring office job would be like. with you.

DIEGO KANG

way more fun and light hearted, i promise!

✦ dg would absolutely nottt date a fan. if you know him, but don't really care about him, he'll be a bit more open to the idea. buttt, i think you'd have to somehow not know who he is to really pique dg's interest.

✦ don't get me wrong, it's not a "...i've never met someone who doesn't know diego kang 😳" type of thinking. he just doesn't want power imbalances in a relationship.

✦ with dg, very much opposites attract. i think he's drawn to bubbly and funny people.

✦ two words: 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 🫦

✦ makes you aware the relationship has to be secret and all that shebang.

✦ i feel like dg's music only appeals to a...certain demographic (teenage girls) and he KNOWS that too. so if you give his tunes a listen and tell him: wow...this is shit, he'll find it oddly endearing. dg is surrounded by yes men, so he likes the honesty that his shitty songs are shitty.

✦ you already know the gifts + pampering would be out of this world 😮‍💨 it would be rude to not spoil you, considering the secrecy of your relationship + his constant absence.

✦ like i said before, for all his perfection, he doesn't really understand that sometimes you don't need an aplogy necklace for dg being away, you're just happy to see him again.

✦ late night motorcycle rides when he's feeling a little 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔. alexa, play cool for the summer

✦ you make fun of him when he does cringe things for the fans lmfao...that was the first time diego kang felt humiliated.

✦ another CRACK in his perfect persona: i think dg can't make funny jokes. even when he was james lee he couldn't, but the cocky persona masked it. now that he's more calm + stoic, it's very apparent.

remember when dg acted like he was gonna use the USB as a bargaining chip against eugene, but then said: "i'm kidding 😜"

🤣😭 THIS WEIRDO! idk if it was a silent warning, but it's my headcanon that it wasn't - he just genuinely thought it was funny.

✦ imagine that troupe of you know...it wouldn't kill you to crack a joke every once in a while. and dg is surprised because he thinks he's a hoot. so he says a shit joke and you actually laugh because of how bad it is. but...dg thinks you're laughing because it was funny, and feels a sense of pride.

✦ he's defo the type to laugh at a crude comment from you and then quickly cough to act like it wasn't HILARIOUS.

✦ now that he's retired, i think dg would go public with your relationship. he's trying to break out of that kpop idol image + show that he's serious about you.

✦ anddd i think he'd tell you about james lee and gapryong once he's absolutely sure you won't leave him. (i don't mean that in a creepy way lmao)

✦ despite my disdain for this FREAK i'd feel very safe with him as my bf ☺️ always arranges a body guard to accompany you if he's not there. but the most comforting thing is his hugs. i think dg gives the best hugs...and he doesn't even realise :')

✦ with you, diego feels free, yet bound in the best way possible.

divider: @thecutestgrotto

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bomber-grl · 2 days ago

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Percy Jackson x Child of Hera 🦚

Pairing(s): Percy Jackson x Gn!Reader

The first thought Percy has is just trying to figure out how you even came to be. It’s nothing like Athena, where her kids pop out of her head fully formed. No, for you to exist, there has to be a human involved—because, well, it takes two to tango. Plus, Athena’s whole thing is marriage and loyalty, so the idea of a glowing mark appearing above anyone’s head at camp—especially one that’s never appeared before—raises a lot of eyebrows.

Naturally, drama follows. There’s also some confusion among Percy and the other campers. In both Greek Mythology and Percy’s life, Hera has been an antagonistic figure. And he’s not the only one with strong feelings about her. You’re guided to the Big House where Chiron and Mr. D discuss your existence while some nymphs clean out the Hera Cabin. The fact that “Hera Cabin” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue should be proof enough that you probably shouldn’t exist.

Percy and Annabeth are there too and overhear the conversation. After some heated discussions, it’s decided that you’re a demigod (after much deliberation), and since you are, Chiron says you’re welcome at camp. Not everyone’s thrilled about it, though, and even Percy thinks it’s pretty unfair. Sure, your mom is probably the worst godly parent ever, but it’s not like you had any say in that. (Not that any of the other gods are any better, but still.)

Though you’re not exactly being embraced by everyone, some see you as a bit of a curiosity. Hera doesn’t have any powers that stand out, so no one knows what to expect from her potential demigod kids. Safe to say, you become a bit of a project and gain some attention—not always the good kind—and you’re quickly becoming well-known for not being too different from your mom in some aspects.

During a Capture the Flag game, your powers first show themselves. You’re ganged up on by a group of Ares kids, who Percy knows to be pretty close to each other. He figures you’re in serious trouble since – much like his first time participating in Capture the Flag, he wasn’t really mentally prepared– but then something weird happens. One Ares kid randomly notices the sibling on her right is wearing her favorite anklet—totally out of nowhere—and then, they both blow up in each other’s faces. The third one tries to break it up, but instead, they all turn on each other, leaving you the perfect opportunity to sneak away.

This keeps happening, and after a while, Percy finally starts to put two and two together. Annabeth, of course, is impressed by how long it took him to figure it out, and Grover had picked up on it a while ago. Turns out, you have the ability to influence people’s relationships, pulling out little resentments and using them to your advantage. You don’t just break up friendships—you mess with their bonds to get the upper hand.

Percy’s always liked his powers, but after watching you, he can’t help but sort of be jealous of yours. Then, realized this implied he wanted to be Hera's spawn ( not that being a big fat target of a Poseidon kid for monsters was any better.)

Soon, more powers started to emerge, and it was almost like waiting each Wednesday for an episode of your favorite show to air. First, there’s healing—or maybe protection? It’s hard to tell. Both? It happens during a training duel when you and a close demigod friend are sparring against another duo. Percy’s time at camp was always spent rushing around, but this time, he actually stopped to watch. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that you’re getting totally wrecked—like, it’s not even fun to watch anymore. Your ally’s shield disappears when one of the enemies strikes, and a sword is about to make contact with your friend. Quite literally almost drawing blood. Time seems to slow, but then he and likely the rest of the onlookers are pulled out of the trance. There you are, your wounds healing at an incredible rate, and even your friend’s injuries are disappearing too. The most impressive part? There’s an invisible barrier stopping the sword from going any further. You were kneeling in front of your somewhat fallen friend, shielding them from your opponent while drawing strength from it (rather your bond)

It ended in a draw, which Percy thought was total buttcheek. He doesn’t really care about it at the time, though. That opinion doesn’t become important until much later—when you two are already dating. I know, a big leap, but stick with me. It wasn’t long after the day you completely owned those arrogant Ares kids—fair and square—that they started scheming for revenge. They always did.

It’s late in the afternoon at Camp Half-Blood, the kind of quiet time when most campers are either training or lounging around the mess hall. Percy’s leaning against a tree, thinking of a way to tell Sally about what he’s been up to without worrying her out. He’s been on edge all day. The rumors about you—the one with the strange powers—have been flying around camp like wildfire. Some are saying you’ve got the ability to manipulate emotions, others think you can control the weather. Either way, no one knows exactly what you’re capable of, and that makes people uncomfortable.

Suddenly, the camp’s usual peace is interrupted by the sound of shouting—definitely not a good kind of shouting. Percy glances up and sees a group of Ares kids marching toward the training field, and standing in the middle of the group is you. You’re being dragged along, and your usual expression—slightly aloof, like you’re just there to observe—has been replaced with a look of annoyance.

Percy doesn’t have to guess what’s going on. The Ares kids have probably targeted you again, just like they did during Capture the Flag. He can already hear their more than lacking insults, Each one less cutting than the last. They don’t know how to deal with the idea of a demigod child of Hera showing up and making waves. Honestly, they’d probably prefer you were just a myth. Especially after you kicked their asses.

Without thinking, Percy jogs over to where the group is gathering. His first instinct is to stop the bullying, but as he gets closer, he sees something that gives him pause: you’re not fighting back, but you’re not backing down either. Instead, your eyes are focused on the ground as the Ares kids get closer, like you’re silently waiting for something.

Percy slows his pace as he gets within earshot. He’s not sure what’s going on, but he can tell something’s about to happen. It’s when one of the Ares kids, who Percy knows can be particularly nasty—steps too close to you, then it happens. Without warning, the person stops mid-sentence, his face a mix of confusion and... fear?

The others don’t notice at first, but Percy sees it clearly— his grip on his spear loosens, and he stumbles back, like he’s been punched in the gut. Then another Ares kid, this time a girl named, turns on her heel and starts yelling at him, her voice rising in anger. One by one, they start turning on each other, their camaraderie unraveling as small but vicious arguments break out among them.

It’s like they’ve all been possessed by their worst insecurities, and Percy can’t help but realize—this is what you can do. You’re pulling on the threads of their relationships, turning them against each other without even lifting a finger.

Before it gets too out of hand, Percy steps forward, his voice a little louder than usual. “Hey!” he calls out, making the group freeze. They turn to him, a mix of annoyance and confusion on their faces, but Percy ignores them and looks directly at you. “What’s going on here?”

You glance at him, your expression unreadable, but there’s a slight quirk on your lips. “You don’t know?” you say, almost too casually for the situation. “I just helped them... work out their issues.”

Percy raises an eyebrow, not sure if he should be impressed or worried. “That’s one way to do it, I guess.”

The Ares kids, now looking like they’ve completely lost their unity, begin to scatter. Percy watches them go, then turns his attention back to you. “You know,” he says, taking a few steps closer, “that was pretty impressive. And a little terrifying.”

You shrug, your nonchalance making Percy feel both confused and intrigued. “It’s not like I asked for it,” you reply. “It just... happens.”

He studies you for a moment. “Again?” He can’t help but grin slightly. “Can’t say I didn't see that coming.”

You meet his gaze, your eyes sharper than he expected. “Neither did I.”

Percy didn’t stick around camp as often as he could have, but every time he did, the two of you grew closer. Honestly, it got to the point where you both developed feelings for each other. It was a little weird for Percy to think of Hera as a mother-in-law, and on the flip side, you were more than happy to have Sally as yours. You two got along really well, and like Percy, she never held anything against you just because of who your mom is—or how, you know, terrible Hera can be. Percy was honestly just relieved that two of his favorite people got along so well.

But, on the other end? Well, that was a whole mess. Pardon my language, but it was absolute dog shit. While you were still figuring out how to balance your relationship with Percy, Hera kept a very watchful eye on you. There’s a definite possibility that she doesn't approve of him. Not to rule out her approving of him and giving you her support—though if that’s the case, it definitely creeps Percy out. It makes him question whether there’s something he’s missing or if she’s just being her usual irritating self.

And speaking of, Percy can’t believe he ever thought you might be like Hera, just because you were a little manipulative at times. I mean, really—it was just your power. It had nothing to do with your actual personality. And when the truth about how you came to be finally came to light? It was a major turning point. Likely figured out with a –one long and exhausting quest that helped you two get closer than ever– later.

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rose-in-blue · 16 hours ago

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"Any Time, Mon Cher"

Alastor x reader

Warnings/tags: fluff, Alastor being smarmy, reader being awkward, an aggressive amount of commas and parenthesis, deer kink(?), slightly suggestive, Alastor isn't repulsed by touch at least not from (Y/N), cursing, thoughts in italics, the hotel has a kitchen?

A/n: this is my first time posting fanfic, so please go easy on me, guys! let me know if I made any errors in the comments <3

1176 words

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“I seriously can’t believe you, Alastor!” you shouted, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“I really don’t see the problem here, dear,” he said, slightly more passive aggressive than normal.

You two had been fighting for the last 10 minutes or so, standing in the small kitchen of the Hazbin Hotel. While your fight had started with a simple argument over a slight misunderstanding, soon the gates broke and the flood began— every single thing that Alastor had done that ticked you off just rushed out in a wave that you couldn't seem to stop.

“Argh, you’re just… the… the worst!!” you screamed into his face, lacking better words.

Alastors eyes narrowed, shit-eating-grin strained slightly, ears flicking back for a brief moment. You barely caught the change in his eyes or smile, but your eyes darted up at the movement from his fluffy, red and black ears.

You’d never admit it, but ever since you’d arrived at the hotel, you’d had a bit of an obsession over the Radio Demon. He was aggravating and full of himself and bitchy and narcissistic, but something about him always seemed to make your heart beat a little faster. Especially his more… deer-like features.

Antlers, ears, (speculated) tail— you were fascinated by it all. All you wanted to do was run your hand up the back of his ears, tangling in his hair, while you lay, gasping, helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy…

You blinked, realizing that you’d been staring for a few moments too long. Alastor noticed, of course. Smiling wider, he decided to have some fun with it.

“Really, darling? In what ways am I…” he flicked his ears backwards, then forwards again, “the worst?”

You blushed, eyes never breaking from his ears. “Uh, well, I… for starters…” you trailed off.

“...Yes, dear? I’m listening.” His left ear flicked to the side.

“Oh, well, you know…” you desperately tried to gain control of the conversation, looking into his eyes again. “You’re incredibly full of yourself.”

“Oh, really, (Y/N)? And you’re so humble?” He grinned impossibly wider, ears flicking in every which way.

“Well, ya know, I…” Get a hold of yourself, (Y/N), you thought, eyes trying to focus on anything else but the demon in front of you. “I’m not an asshole about it.” Fuck, why did you say that?!

Alastor threw his head back and laughed, his ears finally stopping. You pouted, hating to be the butt of whatever sadistic joke you were to him. “Really? Is that what you think of me?” he asked, still laughing.

“I… I mean, I…” What did you mean? Sure, Alastor could be shitty at times, but he seemed to have a soft spot for you… at least, that’s what you thought. You didn’t really know anymore.

He bent at the waist, face drawing closer to yours, and it seemed as if he read your mind. “What did you mean, sweetheart? I’m listening.” His ears shifted back (purposefully, of course– he just loved to see you squirm). That was the final breaking point for you.

“Oh, fuck you, Alastor!” you turned your head away, suddenly very aware that your back was now firmly pressed against the kitchen counter.

“You’re welcome to try, dear.”

HE DID NOT JUST—

You blushed, and your eyes flashed to his instantly, because there was no way in hell that he just said that.

The smirk that played across his face told you that he had indeed just said that.

“I…I…I-I,” you stammered, not quite able to process it. His smirk grew, especially after his ears twitched to the front again and your eyes followed every movement and his eyes followed yours.

Changing the subject (thank Satan), his smile shifted to a kinder one, eyes looking up to where his ears stood, then back at you. "Would you like to touch them, darling?"

You were silent for a moment, taken aback. "What-- I'm sorry?"

You heard him, of course, and he knew that, so he continued. "As long as our little argument is over, that is." He reached down and took your hand, eyes never breaking away from yours. "As much as I love our friendly banter, it hurts me so much to see you so angry at me."

You didn't know what so say for once, so you just let him bring your hand to to the side of his temple, almost touching his hair.

"...I..." Honestly, you were surprised you got that much out.

Still smiling, his eyes stared into your soul. "Use your words, dear."

Well, there was no going back now. You threw all your embarrassment out the window and nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, Alastor, I do."

Alastor smiled (you could swear there was kindness behind it), bowed his head, and pressed your hand to the base of his ear.

You almost gasped. The hair (hair? fur? hair-fur?) was soft, softer than you'd imagined. Your fingers gently danced up and down his ear, and then moved over to caress his antlers.

Meanwhile, hidden from you, Alastor's face was a mess of emotions. Every bone in his body screamed at his to leave, to vanish, to get away from the danger that physical contact might bring. His eyes flashed into radio dials, then back again. However, within only a few seconds, he relaxed into your touch, letting out a soft exhale.

You were enthralled with his ears and antlers, so much so that you brought your other hand up to the back of his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Alastor stepped forward slightly, swallowed his pride, and trailed his hands up the sides of your thighs to your waist, while your fingers kept toying with his hair.

Alastor, head still lowered, shifted enough to where he could look up at you. Finally, finally you were able to stop looking at the top of his head (satiated for now), and stared deep into his crimson eyes. (Were his pupils more dilated than normal?)

Slowly, he stood up straight, eyes still fixated on you. Your hands fell from his ears to his hair, and then to his chest. You seemed even more aware of the counter behind you, especially as Alastor took another small step toward you, almost pressing into you, hands tightening on your waist.

"Thank you," you whispered, almost inaudibly, head reaching up slightly.

"Any time, mon cher," he whispered back, as his head lowered.

At that moment, Charlie burst into the kitchen. Immediately, you spun around to face the sink, while Alastor shadow-traveled a few yards away to the fridge. "Alright, you two! I hope you're ready for some group exercises!" she bubbled.

You cleared your throat, blushing (grateful that she didn't see the almost-kiss). "Of course, we'll be out in a minute!" you assured the princess.

"No, no, right now! Let's goooo!" she dragged you out of the kitchen.

Before you passed the now open doorway, you caught Alastor's eye.

He smiled at you.

You grinned.

"Any time, dear," he whispered once more as you disappeared. "Any time."

#alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel #fluff #new writers on tumblr #writers on tumblr #fanfic #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

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defuckingthrone-dot-com · 2 days ago

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A Dirty Wedding Affair 🌴🌅

Summary: Just a quick little blurb about having a One Night Stand with Noah

Pairing: Noah x Reader

TW: Sex p in v, oral sex.

A/N: Ever since i saw this picture i thought of this scenario. I talked to @concretejunglefm about it she actually contributed to some of the ideas here. also, title by her! Any way enjoy! xx.

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

I really don't know how I got involved in this situation, I was always careful with things like this. Actually when I think about it, it wasn't really my style to do this type of thing. But here I was hiding behind a damn palm tree decoration on a small reception of this Hotel. I was trying to not get noticed by the guy whose bed I left this morning before he actually woke up. The walk of shame back to my room felt a little too real, and I guess I wasn't hiding hard enough because from the corner of my eyes I saw him walk up with a big smirk on his face.

“Are you really trying to hide behind that flimsy excuse of a palm tree?” he asked with a little bit of laughter in his tone.

“Who me? No, No why would i??” i said a bit too rushed

“Maybe because you sneaked out this morning” I wasn't expecting for him to call me out like that but he was right, i felt embarrassed and i didnt want him to see me.

“yeah um i'm sorry?” i didn't know if apologizing would make the situation better but i tried anyway,

His gaze lingered a little too long before he left a subtle laugh “Yeah it's good I ran into you, you forgot this Pixie..”i didn't have time to dwell on the fact he called me Pixie just like he moaned last nice with a few other choice of words because he was already pulling out the same lace pair of panties i was wearing when i entered his room last night from his front pocket.. “Didn't want you to lose them so I kept them safe.”

All the blood in me crept onto my cheeks and I can confidently say that I wasn't blushing anymore, I was bleeding red. I realized what was happening and in one quick move I snatched the panties from his hand.

You're probably wondering how I got here? Well, I'll have to relieve the last 72 hrs for you to understand, so here i go!

It all started when I arrived here, this wasn't a vacation per say but I did plan on having the most fun I could before I had to go back to boring reality back home. My best friend from childhood was getting married this weekend. She had chosen to get married at the beach, which was great for me. I loved the tropical weather and I could enjoy a bit more tanning.

The first time I saw him I was laid in a lounge chair by the pool. I was grabbing the the book i was reading in one hand and a glass of lemonade on the other, i saw walk in front of me and walk around the edge of said pool to reach the other side, he was with what assume to be his friends, i vaguely remember thinking how i did have Maid of Honor duties to fulfill but not until later that night so stayed a little too long in my spot.

I saw how his colorful tattoos shined under the water with the sun hitting them. he had a little bun of hair on the top of his, and he seem to be just about the tallest man i ever seen, The most gorgeous brown that have ever crossed paths with me,

He seemed like a lot of fun, and started from my seat. I was wearing sunglasses and half of them covered my face. I thought I was being cautious and not obvious but when he turned to look my way an almost hazy took over me.

Luckily he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at one of his friends that was passing by me going towards him.

I didn't want to seem like a creep so I decided to just get up and go back into my room. I would be lying if I thought he was very attractive but way out of my league but I probably would never see him again so why even bother thinking such a thing.

The second encounter was by the bar just down the street of the hotel. I probably shouldn't have drank anything before the wedding but I fear I was more nervous than the actual bride. I wanted to take a shot or two before I had to be back to get ready. i sat at one end of the bar when i saw him reaching the other end, he sat down and other his drink,

He was alone this time, i tried not look his way as the bartender put my vodka soda in front of me and maybe i was being paranoid but i could sense his eyes on me, I pulled out my cell phone from my phone and decided to scroll just so i could have something to do and not look dumb. After about of 10 minutes i decided it was time to go i paid for my drinks at headed,

Once again this was the last time i would probably see him but was i so wrong,

The wedding had started and everything was going to plan. The music started playing and as the maid of honor I made my way down the aisle to stand by the sidelines. As my best friend walked down the most beautiful princess and the emotions started to come afloat I saw him once again. He was sitting in the 3rd row of chairs.

My eyes grew wide, I didn't know why I felt the tension, I haven't even crossed words with him once so it was a bit dumb for me to feel this way. I couldn't run so I was just still until the ceremony had ended, But i could tell even by the side of my eye that at that point he was looking at me with a small smile.

After the beautiful ceremony and my sweat induced head we moved to where the location for the party would be.

I was having such a good time, I mingled amongst the guests, everything was going perfect and I couldn't be more happy for my best friend Bailey. I didn't want my social battery to run out and as the liquid in my glass, I made my way down to the bar. I ordered a vodka soda and as I reached for it and turned around I nearly fell on my ass, I bumped into someone and it almost made my drink spill on my dress. I didn't pay attention to who was standing in front of me as I was trying to clean with my hands the small droplets that did manage to land on my dress.

“If i didn't know any better i would think you are stalking me” i heard a voice.

“what..? i don't even know who..” as i looked up to meet his eyes i saw who exactly it was “are…” my voice started to windle down.

“3 times in the span of 48 hours seems like a very unlikely crazy coincidence”

“i don't know what you mean” i tried to stay confidently

“3 times, darling, 1. by the pool, 2. at the bar down the street this morning and 3. this wedding” he must sense the sheer panic and embarrassment in my eyes “you know i'm just kidding right?” he let out a soft laugh.

“...yeah, yeah of course!” I said with a shaky laugh.

“if were going to keep running into each other it's best i introduce my self, Im Noah”

“im y/n”

“pretty name for a pretty girl”

“Uh thanks” I didn't know where to look. I was a bit shocked to actually be talking to him.

“So Maid of honor huh?” he asked intrigues.

“Yeah me and the bride we go way back, weve been bestfriends for years” i said preparing to ask him a question, “and you? Who do you know from here?”

“The groom, we have worked together a few times” he replied back.

“So you're in the music industry, do you like sound tech or something?” i asked

He stared at me as if i was saying something so out of the box “Not exactly, i'm in a band, and the groom has helped me and band out a lot”

“Ah that makes sense”

We decided to move our conversation over to the table where the rest of his band mates were seated. it scared me a bit how natural the conversation flowed. I was having a really good time with him and the night was almost coming to an end.

By this time both the bride and groom had already left and retreated back to their room, the only people left were the waiter cleaning up the mess and Noah and I.

“So do you maybe want to go back to my room and chill for a bit..i mean if you would like of course” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes,

I hesitated for a bit, but after a moment I thought nothing wrong could go bad.

“yeah sure that sounds great”

We walked down the long hallways of the hotel to catch the elevator, we both knew there was a sexual tension between us and as soon as the doors closed to start ascending the correct floor, his lips were on mine. A sweet slow passionate kiss, where his tongue andmine where dancing in unison

The elevator door couldn't open fast enough, and a brief second we were already outside his door. He struggled to get his key card out of his pocket and as soon as the door he led me over to his bed. He laid me down while he balanced his wight on top of mine

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked

All i could do was nod, I was too far in and too intrigued on his bedroom skills to say no.

He took over my mouth once more, another kiss, this one more chaotic and wild then the last. He started to slowly pull down the straps of my dress while I in a frantic motion fought to get his pants unbuttoned.

Clothes started to fly around the room, my dress flew on the floor while my lace panties and bra ended on the side table. His button down shirt somehow made its way on top of the lamp that was sitting on the table in front of the bed, his pants and belt landing with a loud thud on the floor.

And just like that we were both naked. lost in the heat of the moment, Once his lips left mine, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses from my jawline, down my neck, through the valley of my breast. He made a little pit stop at my navel to situate himself between my legs. Once he did so he picked right up where he left off.

He overlooked my core to also kiss the inner part of my thighs. I was already high due to his touch. He locked down at my core and looked like the most starved man on earth about to eat a full course meal.

“Pretty pink pussy darling, and you're already so wet” he said as he licked his lips “may i?”

Once again all I could do was nod. He dove in and once his tongue made contact with my click and a sweet little moan escaped from my mouth. He lapped a few more times at my pussy before he detached and sent me into oblivion with his fingers. One finger in, slowly taking it in and out, two fingers in, he started to increase the pace of what he was doing.

He reached just the right spot a few more times of thrusting in and out.

“ Noah oh god i'm gonna…” I said in almost a whisper.

“No no no Pixie you're not gonna cum until I tell you to, understood?’

“yees”

In one swift motion he turned me around, I was now on all four and waiting for his next move. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening. and from what i could tell he rolled it on this cock with ease.

“hold on tight darling”

All I could grab was the pillow beside. He did not give me any sort of warning in a matter of seconds he was inside of me. Thrusting in full force. All I could think of unironically was the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails in my head; because what the song was describing was what Noag was doing to me. Fucking me like an animal.

Fast paced, hazy eyes and the smell of raw contact. He slowed down only to catch his breath.

“ah ah Noah..” the moans were escaping my mouth, unable to control them. “It feels so good.”

:”Pixie you're so tight.. So fitting… sooo” Once final thrust in and we were both seeing stars.

He collapsed on top of me while we both tried to catch our breaths. It was the most exhilarating and mind blowing orgasm that i have had.

We took a small 15 minute break to hydrate and decompose before we were at it again. By the 3rd round i was so exhausted in the best way possible that i knew come the morning it would hurt to move. The ache of my muscles started to set in and as we laid there naked and vulnerable, My eyes started to close slowly and I succumbed to sleep , no longer fighting it.

By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen, I took notice of my surroundings, slowly taking my gaze through the room until they landed on the spot on the bed next me.

There he laid asleep covered with a simple white sheet from his waist down, His tattoos brighter than i've seen them the last 3 days. Panic set in my gut, when I looked at my own body, I was completely naked. I scrambled to get off the bed and look for my clothes. I found my dress and my bra but nowhere insight into where my panties would be. I didn't want to wait around for Noah to wait up and kick me out of his room, so I put on what I did find and took my heels in my hand and slowly and quietly made my way to my room.

Now fast forward to this afternoon where I was face to face again with him.

“thanks for keeping them… safe.. you know?” i sad blushing and putting them in my purse

“No problem darling, i have a feeling this won't be the last time we run into each other” he said walking away only to turn around in a moment and wink at me.

I couldn't help but let out a little laugh because I too believed this wasn't going to be the last time we would cross paths..

#noah sebastian #noahsebastian #noah thots #noah fan fic #noah smut #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens noah #thots 🔥

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mariacallous · 3 hours ago

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You seem wise. Any advice for avoiding doom scrolling and terrible coping mechanisms?

Yes - avoid most social media, first of all. I keep my accounts on places like facebook, twitter, instagram, bluesky but don't post hardly anything and at this point I only use the dm function for some people, and even then it's mostly memes and occasional updates. I don't read or repost anything on them from people I follow anymore, and I unfollowed a lot of accounts. I use tumblr primarily for a number of reasons, one of which is that I can do other fun stuff on here and see other fun stuff.

Disable push notifications for most of your apps, particularly news apps - choose a few that you really trust or rely on if you feel you need to, but otherwise limit the onslaught coming towards you.

Remember the stuff you do like and enjoy and re-embrace them. You like playing pokemon? Get back in and catch 'em all again. You're a fan of the Inspector Alleyn mysteries by Dame Nagio Marsh? Remember your favorites and re-read them, or see if there's new stories or series similar. Walking with children in nature? Go back out there and breathe the outdoors air, selecting your favorite walks or finding new paths.

Don't neglect yourself - make sure you eat enough as you're able to, sleep enough as you can, brush your teeth and shower regularly enough, listen to your favorite music. Spend time with your favorite people, and rebuild those connections if you need to.

Focus on what you can do - there are always some level of practical contribution anyone and everyone can make, and you can always level up to the next one if you're able and confident enough.

Don't think of yourself as being alone in this - don't isolate and separate.

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fossore · 2 days ago

Text

Interview with Rick Celebrini, ft. some of his thoughts on the Sharks team culture and the Celebrini and Smith friendship, how often he brought Macklin around the Warriors as a kid, and part of what he says to him on the phone before every game, among other things.

Experience sports talk radio! Or save yourself listening to a couple of guys saying Daddy Rick far too many times and read the transcript below. Slightly trimmed and ads removed, original here.

Greg Silver: What's going on everybody! We're focusing on one family and one family only. No it's not the Papa family, it's not the Silver family, in the last 25 minutes of the show it's the Celebrini family. Macklin is going to be joining us coming up in about 15 minutes, but first, it is Warriors Director of Sports Medicine and Performance Dr. Rick Celebrini hanging on the guest line. What's happening Rick?

Rick Celebrini (RC): Hey guys, how's it going?

Silver: It's going great! Great to have you on, Greg Silver, Greg Papa, and I guess I just want to start with a Warriors related question because everybody's going to be wondering about the health of Steph Curry and I know that he's been navigating this knee tendonitis throughout the season. So just if you could tell everyone kind of how he's navigating that, if it's continuing to improve over time, if doing that back-to-back the other night was a lot of wear and tear on him, what's kind of the status of the superstar of Golden State?

RC: Man, you guys are starting with a tough one, you know I can't ans- I can't divulge that kind of information. But I will tell you Steph's in a great place, just the professional that he is and how committed he is to every aspect of his professional and personal life. He's a treat to work with and he's in a good place I think physically and mentally.

Greg Papa: And he's in good hands with you. Now we did not invite Dr. Rick on, we invited Daddy Rick on 'cause your son is coming on. And you were on the Dad's trip, we saw ya, Greg went and watched him play against Sid the Kid, what a thrill that was to score the game winning goal. The game last night in Seattle didn't go great but he did score a goal in the third period (transcriber's note: he did not score, he assisted on Toffoli's goal. KNBR is not quite beating the doesn't care about hockey allegations). Rick just how is it, being able to watch your son play at this level, how many games do you get to watch him in person?

RC: Well, like I tell everyone I'm adjusting to now becoming Macklin's dad, I'm not Rick Celebrini anymore, I'm known as Macklin's dad (chuckles as he speaks) so I'm adjusting to that. It's surreal to be honest with you, it's incredible to see him make this transition, to see him have the kind of season that he's having right now. And I guess, more than anything, as a father, to see him kind of do it with the joy and just the good nature and the fun that he's having doing it? It's one thing to sort of see what he's doing, but also you see guys like the Steph Currys and the Steve Kerrs that preach having joy in this environment which is not always easy to do and to see him doing that at 18 years old with all the pressures and expectations that come with that transition is probably the most satisfying from a parent's perspective.

Silver: Alright, so enough of me prying Dr. Rick, I'm going to focus on Daddy Rick as well. So just what would you say your influence has been on Macklin being NHL ready and just kind of knowing so much about preparation, being in the right physical state and all of that. He's only 19 years old which is hard to believe but how have some of your habits translated to him as he's really testing the waters in the NHL for the first time and killing it? (transcriber's note: he's 18)

RC: Yeah, you know guys it's not just this past offseason, it's sort of been something that I'm really blessed and fortunate to have. Four kids that have their own sort of unique sport-related goals and they all sort of have a dream to get to the highest level of sport. So having a passion and professionally being in this world, there's nothing more enjoyable or satisfying than to take some of those professional knowledge and learning and apply them to your kids. So the four kids, some of them tell people, some people kick back and maybe watch football or go golfing, I have my greatest joy and relaxation when I'm out working with the kids in the off season (transcriber's note, I'm not sure "some of them tell people" is correct). The four of them quite often work out together. This past season for Macklin has been a little in that you're trying to get him, as much as you can for an 18 year old, physically and mentally ready for the rigors of an 82-game season coming off a college season which, again, it's a challenge but he's as professional as you can get at 18 years old in terms of his approach and his commitment to his craft.

Papa: And he's got great lineage obviously, with you being a former soccer player and your whole family, I know his brother is a great hockey player as well (Translator's note: there are two brothers, both of whom are play hockey). You've been in the Bay Area, we've watched you work with the Warriors for years since you joined them in August of 2018, Dr. Rick. Macklin was just a baby back then, how much did you bring him around the Warrior locker room where he could interact with Steph and Klay and Dray and Andre and even Kevin Durant when he was there?

RC: Yeah, I wouldn't say in all honesty that is was a lot, but I think that the opportunities that he and the others did have, one, were really impactful, just to see how these guys approach their craft and two, it's just the influential age that it happened at. I think it was kind of that perfect timing of just as they're getting very serious in terms of where they want to go with their sport, being exposed to that type of environment.

Silver: Talking to Dr. Rick Celebrini here slash Daddy Rick as Macklin will be joining us in about ten minutes and I know this has been quite an awesome experience for you Rick, so just kind of want to get your sense — I don't know how much you've gotten to observe the season, I know the two seasons, NBA and NHL, have quite a bit of overlap, but what's your sense so far of the dynamic between a lot of the youth on this Sharks team and some of the older vets. How do you think Macklin's integrated himself with a lot of these vets, but also having other young guys like Eklund and Askarov making a name for themselves at the same time?

RC: Yeah, especially just coming off this father's trip I got the opportunity to see it sort of first hand and first of all, they have a great group of just people. Never mind players and athletes but just people that the dads — you can see kind of where their sons have gotten it from. Macklin, I think, has really benefited form coming in as a rookie with Will Smith, they've developed a really close bond and friendship and so I think that's helped immensely. You mentioned some of the other young guys, I think there's a really nice balance of rookies, and the veterans that they do have around there have taken a real interest in helping these guys along. So I think all that has helped. I mean, obviously it hasn't necessarily translated in terms of results for the team, but if you're building for the future I think they're going about it the right way in terms of getting good quality people to support these kids as they're building for the future,

Papa: Yeah, Will Smith and Macklin go back to BC BU I know, and that great rivalry and the Beanpot there in Boston and everything and to hang with his dad I know was great for you in Seattle. The one thing that struck me as interesting is that Macklin is back home. he could live with you and your wife and your family, but the way they do it in the NHL is unlike any other sport where he's actually with Jumbo Joe. And what Will Smith is living with Patty? I don't remember Brandin Podziemski moving in with the Currys when he got here Rick. How is — we'll ask your son, he's coming on in a few minutes, we'll ask him directly, but why doesn't he just live at home with you and your wife and your family rather than trimming Jumbo Joe's beard?

RC: (Laughs) Well, first, from a practical logistics standpoint we're out in Livermore so with traffic, as we all know in the Bay it can be a monster, so he's far more proximal to the rink with Joe. But I think over and above that, just the incredible value you have of him living with the family. With Joe's family, they've all been so welcoming, and to have a former number one overall pick who's had an unbelievable hall of fame career to lean on and to be guided by and to keep perspective and things that I can't necessarily relate to, to Macklin, I think it's just been so incredibly valuable for him. Like you said, hockey is unique in that way, stories of Sidney Crosby with Mario Lemieux, the list goes on in terms of different individuals that have had that type of setup. I think it's an incredibly valuable way to transition into the pro game for especially an 18 year old like Macklin.

Silver: So we are having him on in a moment, and since it's such a short interview Rick, we want to make sure we maximize the minutes we get with him but, is there anything you want us to — is there any message that you have for Macklin that we can play coming back for him.

Papa: Make you bed, brush your teeth, wash behind your ears.

RC: Yeah, that's right (laughing). No, I would say, my message to him is, he actually calls before every game, we've done this for probably the last four or five years and I really cherish that time. One of the things that I consistently remind him before every single game is just to enjoy it and to keep perspective and to find the, even in the grind of the season at this point, is just to play with joy, have fun, it's what he's always loved to do. So that's probably the main message.

Papa: (Transcriber's note: at this point Papa relays that George Kittle's father hand writes him a note before each game and says it's nice the Celebrinis can have a similar moment of connection, which is cut for time/I didn't want to transcribe it) Because you're so well versed in the body and how to get through it, it's a hard challenge, He's just 18 years of age, the NHL schedule is grueling, they've got little time off before they play their next game. What's the advice to him as far as getting through this first NHL season as opposed to a much shorter collegiate season, Rick?

RC: Yeah, it's two-fold. One, get your recovery when you can and try to really maximize that, that's sleep, that's all the different modalities. Fortunately I've got peace of mind in that Mike Potenza, who was my performance director here with the Warriors for the last couple years, I actually stole him from the Sharks and now they stole him back. Selfishly for Macklin I'm thrilled that Mike is back there with the Sharks and looking after the group and specifically Macklin. Again, it's being as professional as you can with taking care of yourself. In this day and age it's unlike back in the old days where guys could have late nights and still kind of get by and play themselves into shape. It's just so demanding, the pace that the league's played at, the physicality, the expectations on and off the ice, it's really something that you have to, again, maximize your recovery when you can.

Silver: Rick, thanks so much for coming on and I hope it's not rude to cut you short for your child but in a true fatherly fashion I would say I think you're gonna be OK with it.

RC: As Macklin's dad, yeah, I'm great with it (laughs).

Papa: Anything you want us to relay to him since we're going to talk to him in a moment? Anything we should tell him?

RC: Tell him to give me a call later.

(Laughter)

Papa: Call daddy. Call daddy, Macklin.

RC: (overlapping slightly with previous) Yeah, or maybe call his mom. Even more important.

Papa: Yeah, call your — forget about dad, call mom, would ya.

(General sign offs)

#I know that there’s a transcript but I liked listening. you can hear how much he loves his kids #rick talking about getting mack as prepared as an 18 year old can get for the season and I'm flashing back to him calling macklin a puppy #every time rick says he's out in livermore so the commute's impractical...#buddy I assume you go to practices/games for the warriors it's not like your commute's better #but also I have an equivalent commute home after games i go to and it's not great and I haven't just played 20+ minutes of NHL hockey #san jose sharks #rick celebrini #macklin celebrini #you're listening to KNBR 680 The Sports Leader 104.5 FM #please let me know if you see/hear any mistakes! did not proofread particularly closely

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