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saturnznct · 7 months ago

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how he acts when you're pregnant | enhypen x reader

➸ request from anon; heyy, I’m so happy you’re back! You’re fics were always my go-to if I wanted to read anything dad/pregnancy related, loved them all! can you please write about how enhypen would treat you during pregnancy, like their protectiveness, taking care of the reader, or when she’s having complications etc. 🤍

➸ note; hehe me too thank you so much!! that makes me so happy!! i don't love some of these but I hope they're what you wanted <3

➸ word count; 2335 words

➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun, seren; in the womb lol

➸ warning(s); mentions of vomiting, implied sexy time, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, mentions of possible birth complications

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

heeseung

Heeseung can’t take his hands off you.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re newlyweds, or if it’s because you’re pregnant, but he can’t stay away.

At least one hand is always somewhere on you, on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or knee.

At night, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the dead of summer, his arm is snaked around you and his head is buried in the back of your neck.

Once you reach your second trimester, and your bump becomes noticeable, Heeseung is always touching your bump, tapping it absentmindedly with his fingers, beaming from ear to ear when eventually he can feel your baby boy squirming underneath his touch.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night to the push of feet against his palms, it made him smile every time.

Heeseung is also completely whipped for you, he’ll do anything you ask.

Your cravings get intense, and he doesn’t complain when you wake him at three in the morning whining about salted popcorn with cheese on. And he goes to the store for you, every time.

Heeseung isn’t usually very sappy, but as soon as your bump pops up he’s the most sentimental soppy man in the world.

Every morning and night he talks to your bump about anything and everything. Even during the day he will randomly address the bump asking it questions.

‘Okay, little one,’ Heeseung sinks to his knees one morning, resting a hand on either side of your bump, ‘kick once for cornflakes. Kick twice for the chocolate cereal.’

You giggle, ‘you’re an idiot.’

‘I’m indecisive. This boy needs to pull his weight and help me. He’s already living here rent free for the next however long.’

You roll your eyes, going back to your own breakfast.

‘What do you think baby boy?’ Heeseung gently pokes at your bump attempting to illicit a response.

Eventually your son delivers a single kick, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Unlucky,’ you laugh at his disappointed face, ‘cornflakes it is.’

‘I will evict him as soon as physically possible. How can he disrespect me like this in my own house.’

‘Can’t wait until he’s actually here,’ you murmur.

‘Me too,’ Heeseung kisses your bump before getting up to kiss your head and reach for the cornflakes.

jay

Jay isn’t too overbearing during your pregnancy. He’s not the type to constantly ask if you need anything, he will wait for you to ask him.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t anticipate your needs, you’ll come home from a late shift to find your pregnancy pillow already set up, your cravings are always fully stocked and there’s always plenty of bubble bath.

Where he does get somewhat intense is in public.

Jay constantly worries about harm coming to either of you. When you go shopping, he’s careful not to be recognised, wearing hats and glasses as to not to draw attention to you. In airports, his arm is always around you, guiding you around.

So, when he’s on tour during your pregnancy and you come to visit, he’s on high alert.

‘Jay, I can walk around the venue by myself,’ you’re escorted into the dressing room by a security guard.

Jay pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, ‘there’s lots of equipment around baby, what if you hurt yourself?’

You roll your eyes, ‘have I ever hurt myself backstage before?’

‘Let me look after you,’ he pecks your lips, ‘anyway, it’s soundcheck soon. There’s a nice chair set up for you beside the stage for the actual show as well-‘

‘Wait, I’m going to watch from backstage?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Jay says, ‘going out there can’t be good for you, or the baby-‘

‘But you know I love being in the audience,’ you pout, ‘Jay, I want to be out there singing along with my lightstick just like everyone else.’

Jay tilts his head, ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re so far along and the fans can be so intense…’

‘I’ll be in the stands with your managers, I’ll have so much space!’

‘I just have visions of you falling over or someone bumping into you..’

‘Please, baby,’ you pull out the puppy eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, and you quickly see him crumble.

‘Fine, but minimal dancing,’ he taps your nose, ‘and a security guard.’

Just then, a stage runner knocks on the door, letting Jay know he’s needed for soundcheck.

‘Come on, I’ll take you to your seat.’

‘Jay!’

jake

When you first found out you were pregnant, Jake sort of panics a little bit.

You’re hunched over the toilet and throwing up he doesn’t really know what to do. This is completely new territory for him. Your early symptoms often have him incredibly flustered, you’re emotional, your boobs hurt and you’re constantly dizzy.

One night, Jake comes home from practice, and it’s like his instincts awaken when he sees you in the bathroom, on the floor sobbing.

‘Jake,’ you cry when you see him, and he’s instantly at your side on the tiles, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Jake takes you into his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder.

‘I know I haven’t been the most.. helpful,’ he murmurs, ‘but I know you, and you are so strong, and you can do this. And I will do everything and anything you need from me, okay?’

From then on, Jake is the most attentive boyfriend, and is very touchy. You don’t even have to ask, and he’s giving you a foot massage. You come home from work, and there’s already a bath run for you at the perfect temperature.

Once you’re four months in, your bump becomes noticeable, and Jake’s level of affection is just exacerbated.

Every night he rubs your lotion on your bump, tells the bump about his day, and sleeping with his hand on it.

When you’re hormonal, he holds you.

‘Everything hurts, Jake,’ you sob, ‘all day. She’s been sitting on my spine all day, and I’ve been having braxtons, and my boobs hurt and they’re leaking, I tried to nap but I just couldn’t-‘

Jake from month one in your pregnancy would’ve freaked out at your outburst, but this Jake, in month seven, is calm and collected.

He runs you a bath, filling it with lavender bubbles. On your insistence, he gets in behind you, rubbing your back, shoulders and achy breasts.

’Is that better?’ Jake murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine and stirring up your hormones.

‘Much,’ you roll your head back against his shoulder, ‘you’re the best.’

He kisses your head, ‘how about we get out and go lay down?’

‘We can get out,’ you nod, ‘but can we do more than lay down?’

Jake grins cheekily, ‘incredible idea.’

sunghoon

For your whole pregnancy, Sunghoon is just filled with pride. He shows ultrasound photos to everyone and talks nonstop about your incoming baby girl to anyone that will listen.

Sunghoon becomes a bit of a pregnancy expert. Every book he can get his hands on, he reads cover to cover. He knows what to expect, what was abnormal and everything in-between.

So Sunghoon did notice just how much you were needing to go to the bathroom.

It was relentless. He would wake up several times a night to you wriggling out of his arms and padding into your ensuite. During the day, you’re constantly up and down needing to pee, when you’re driving you have Sunghoon pull into service stations constantly.

He brings it up to your doctor at the next scan. Your doctor agrees that the rate of your bathroom trips are a little out of the ordinary, so he refers you for blood tests.

‘Gestational diabetes,’ you read the words on the leaflet, slumped in the passenger seat of your car.

‘Y/N..’

‘This is my fault.’

‘Y/N, you heard the doctor. Sometimes these things just happen,’ Sunghoon rests a hand on your arm.

‘What if something happens to her because of this? I know he said that the risks were small, but what if?’ you begin to tear up.

’She was perfect on the scan the other day, remember? I’m going to help you through this. We’re going to get through this.’

Sunghoon stayed up all night that night reading article after article about gestational diabetes. You woke up the next morning to find a full google doc with meal plans, exercise routines and a schedule to check your blood sugars.

He happily did everything with you, eating the same meals and cutting down on sugar.

On an evening, the two of you would go down to the pool in your apartment complex for a swim. You would slowly swim around while chatting, usually about the baby or work.

‘You’ve made this so much easier for me,’ you stand over your daughter’s empty crib, damp hair occasionally dripping onto your bump, ‘thank you.’

‘It’s what I’m supposed to do,’ Sunghoon gently turns you around by your waist and kisses your nose, ‘as your husband and her father.’

‘We love you, Hoon.’

‘I love you too.’

sunoo

Sunoo feels totally out of his depth.

Suddenly his fiancee is pregnant, something you never expected. He doesn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, and doesn’t know how to respond to your symptoms. He sort of just treats you as if you’re sick, bringing you soup and tea but keeping his distance. At the same time, you’re hormonal, and can’t understand why he’s staying away.

You worry he doesn’t want the baby, that he’s having second thoughts, or you’re bothering him too much with your requests. In reality, Sunoo is just so worried that he’s not being helpful, or that somehow he might hurt or upset you.

One night you’re laying in bed together watching TV in silence, you essentially lose it.

’Sunoo,’ you’re tearing up, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ he whips his head around to look at you, ‘for what?’

‘You’re just distant, and you keep away from me, I barely see you. If it’s me or the baby I would rather you just tell me-’

’No- no, that’s not it at all. I want you and the baby more than anything in the world.’

Sunoo is quiet for a few moments, ‘I’m sorry. I guess I’m just scared. I’ve been retreating into my head and haven’t been there for you like I should be.’

‘Sunoo, we need to talk to each other. I need to know how you feel. If we’re going to be parents, we need to be a team, we need to be in sync.’

‘I know, you’re right. I promise going forward I’ll be more open with you about how I feel.’

From then on, he’s obsessed with all things pregnancy and baby.

Every few days you’ll come home to a package addressed to you that you didn’t order, containing a weird pregnancy product that he saw on TikTok.

You and Sunoo talk constantly. You chat late at night in bed, in the morning on your balcony as the sun comes up, in the car on an evening, all about your excitement and fears surrounding the baby.

Sunoo also becomes somewhat clingy, especially at night or when you’re in crowds. While before you were pregnant he would usually just throw an arm around you, now he sleeps completely pressed against you, his chest to your back.

‘I love you,’ he mumbles into your neck one night, ‘thank you for giving me my dream.’

jungwon

Your pregnancy with Serin is very turbulent.

For the first half, everything is fairly smooth.

You get sick, and Jungwon holds your hair back. You have mood swings, he tries his best to be empathetic.

Jungwon knows enough to understand that these things are par for the course, so he’s supportive but not too concerned about your symptoms.

You were around halfway through your pregnancy when the less than normal symptoms began.

Jungwon would come home from practice to you sitting in a completely dark room.

‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’

Your head was in your hands, unable to be lifted.

‘I have the worst migraine I think I have ever had,’ you whine, ‘I have taken as much paracetamol as I am allowed. I had a bath in the dark, put a cold cloth on my forehead. Wonnie it’s so bad, I can barely see..’

Jungwon holds you, massaging your head until you fall asleep hours later.

When the headaches and vision problems persist, you make an emergency appointment.

‘Bed,’ Jungwon practically pushes you up the stairs when you get home, supervising and making sure you were changing into comfortable clothes and getting under the covers.

Your intense headaches turn out to be preeclampsia. Although at the moment Serin was measuring well, the doctor had warned you of the potential complications, including preterm labour or low birth weight.

You’d been ordered to take strict bed rest.

For the remainder of your pregnancy, Jungwon waits on you hand and foot.

He’s suddenly fussing over you, messing with your pillows and cushions. He brings up your food on trays, eating every meal beside you. The two of you tear through countless shows on a plethora of streaming services. He holds you when you cry in frustration. He holds your hand when the doctor visits every week.

‘Baby, it’s ready,’ Jungwon enters your bedroom, approaching the bed.

‘Really?’ you warm with excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, ‘can I see?’

Jungwon helps you get up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk.

He leads you down the corridor and into your daughters nursery, which he, Jay and Heeseung had spent all day decorating.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ hot tears spring to your eyes, ‘you guys.. It’s exactly how I imagined.’

‘She’ll be in there so soon,’ Jungwon lays a hand on the rail of the crib, ‘and no matter what happens, she’ll be fine.’

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patrixjia · 11 days 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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the-paranomaly-hotline · 8 months ago

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A project in the works.

Hi, this is Atari! We are the Paranomaly Hotline (like paranormal and anomaly, cool right?!?), we help people when they deal with places or creatures (or even people) that aren't exactly...normal, for lack of a better vocabulary. There's several of us, but we're the main ones who'll be taking calls!

Have a good day, and I hope you guys have no need to call us!

(Oh, our sign offs! Here they are below!)

📝 -Atari (it/they/mem/crys, tolerates she/her) 💫 -Rune (hex/mystic/xey/they) ✈️ -Ev (he/it/ball/nine) [mostly a bit, wont really appear in the story] 🔅 -Moss (he/her) 💠 -Whip (she/her or they/them) 🍀 -Clover (he/him) 🎀 -Milo (he/him) 🎈 -Piper (she/he/they/it)

I'm still gonna keep posting the actual project on my main (@s0lar-ch3ri), but if you wanted to talk to the characters or something, well, here!

If you wanted to see updates about this little story project, just follow the #Paranormal Callings (And How We Got You Out) on my main. Out of characters, I use he/her/it/sol! Uh, yeah bye bye lol

oh also any ooc things are gonna be tagged "#paranomal shutdown"

for my reblogs of the written out chapters, check "#written entity handling"

for my reblogs of the drawn out chapters, check "#drawn entity handling"

the story will always be tagged "#Paranormal Callings (And How We Got You Out)"

because it is a hastel to tag all the posts, any non-actual story (like random office things or whatever) are gonna just be tagged "#backstage of the hotline"

if i give a lil detail about the hotline or whatever, itll go under #fun ph factoids

new characters coming as i work on this lol (maybe tags too idrk)

so fun thing, asks with little things can be for any fandom and shit, and theyll have their own side plotline things (not canon to the main story, but canon somewhere) so yeah!

finished side story things will get put in the pinned to look thro later :3

#cat-otic demons - An anon called in, talking about a peculiar demon who's been talking to their cat, Toothpaste.

#wooded elks - An anon called in about a mysterious elk who had been watching them in the woods.

#demonic possibility - Mysterious shop owners who might be a bit more then human!

CHARACTER TAGS BECAUSE I CAN:

#mossed up posting - moss

#gathering magics of runes - rune

#ataris time shining - atari

#whips up - whip

#interning piper! - piper

#marble bows milo - milo

#newer friends to organize - for when i make new guys for this shit and just am too lazy to make a new tag for em

#Paranormal Callings (And How We Got You Out)#rp blog #paranomal shutdown #written entity handling #drawn entity handling #mossed up posting #gathering magics of runes #ataris time shining #newer friends to organize #backstage of the hotline #whips up #wooded elks #cat-otic demons #fun ph factoids #demonic possibility

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nerdlvr · 2 months ago

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lee haechan's masterlist

aka hyuck , either acts 5 or 50 , obssessed boyfriend , deez nuts jokes 24/7

ᰔ : fluff , ✩ : smut , 𖦹 : angst , ⟡ : suggestive ,

*(this masterlist contains mature content)*

~blurbs (>300 words)

ᰔ moles

kissing boyfriend haechan's moles

ᰔ clingy

night routine with your clingy boyfriend haechan.

ᰔ baking

your best friend haechan can't bake sweets, but that doesn't matter, he's the sweetest in your heart *request

ᰔ tummy loving

husband haechan giving your tummy kisses.

ᰔ t-shirt

boyfriend haechan in your shirt.

ᰔ cherry chapstick

haechan wishes he could taste your sweet lips.

ᰔ ignored

ignoring boyfriend haechan every time he wants a kiss has its benefits.

⟡ birthday sex

tiny idea of haechan's take on birthday sex.

ᰔ⟡ nerd kiss

nerd haechan's first kiss. aka pt.1 of pussy drunk nerd

✩ foot rub

haechan is the type to rub your feet in missionary. *request

~longer fics (400+ words)

ᰔ⟡ possessive

sometimes having a hot girlfriend is a struggle. ft. chenle *request

ᰔ chocolate covered strawberries

best friend haechan doesn't know how to ask you out, so you give him a push. *request

ᰔ hands

you can't stop staring at best friend haechan's hands. *request

✩ pussy drunk nerd

nerd haechan can't get enough of your sweet cunt. aka pt.2 of nerd kiss

✩ he likes your tits

boyfriend haechan loves your tits, especially when you're riding him. *request

✩ mommy

it's obvious that whiny haechan has a mommy kink. *request

✩ pussy drunk

there's nothing haechan loves more than eating your pussy. *request

✩ mr.lee

you're his secretary and boss haechan is jealous.

✩ 10 points for hufflepuff !

you're a slytherin and haechan's a hufflepuff. why not fuck in snape's classroom? ft. renjun and jeno *request

✩ camgirl

best friend haechan fingers you during one of your livestreams. *request

✩ backstage

backstage quickie before a concert with boyfriend haechan. *request

✩ overstimulation

whiny overstimulated haechan. *request

~headcanons (bullet points of idea)

ᰔ roommates

just your typical roommate, except for the fact he has a crush on you.

ᰔ roommates pt.2

just your typical roommate again, except now he's making moves.

ᰔ boyfriend

just little things boyfriend haechan would do.

✩ pervert

things pervert haechan would do. *request

~smaus (fake twitter posts and messages)

ᰔ best friend texts

random texts from best friend haechan that's in love with you.

ᰔ boyfriend texts

random texts with boyfriend haechan.

ᰔ academic rivals

haechan has to be the most annoying academic rival... at least he's cute.

ᰔ⟡ friends with benefits

clingy friend with benefit haechan thats secretly in love with you. *request

ᰔ academic rivals pt.2

continuation of academic rival haechan.

ᰔ⟡𖦹 blooming hearts (smau)

enemies to lovers with the flower shop owner across the street.

ᰔ academic rival pt.3

academic rival haechan that is now also your boyfriend. *request

ᰔ⟡ friends with benefits pt.2

falling in love with clingy friend with benefit haechan *request

ᰔ⟡𖦹✩ zoom , click , panic !

you're a camgirl and haechan's a virgin nerd photographer, what could go wrong? ft. all the dreamies

ᰔ⟡ daddy

a glimpse into dealing with husband/dad haechan! *request

ᰔ✩ first time

nerd haechan bragging to the dreamies about losing his v-card. ft. the dreamies *request

~~~~~~~

for more haechan content that he's featured in check out :

nct dream's masterlist or nerdlvr's world tour or into nerdlvr's brain

don't see anything that interests you? try requesting !

#nerdlvr #lee haechan #haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #nct #nct dream #nct 127

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dorothy16 · 1 year ago

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mattbomer NYC My ♾️ little brother @darrencriss is so brilliant (no surprise) in @littleshopnyc - don’t miss it if you’re in town.

#darren criss #matt bomer #little shop of horrors #little shop backstage #matt bomer ig #anderson brothers #me edits

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belzebubsofficial · 9 months ago

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Hey, belzebuddies! This is just a kind reminder that the second Belzebubs book is coming out in a matter of weeks, and the pre-orders are currently up! If you wish to grab a signed copy of the book with a little drawing by your’s truly, please check out our official store at Backstage Rock Shop.

The book is also available through other comic shops and book stores, so please check out HERE for some other links! The 144 page book continues documenting the daily lives of the 'bubs with infernal warmth, and features a foreword by Eisner-winning cartoonist Max Sarin and an afterword by Opeth frontman Mikael Åkerfeldt.

Thanks so much for all the pre-orders so far, you guys rule!

#belzebubs #black metal #trve kvlt #webcomics #comic #jp ahonen #top shelf #chrono #secrets #kids #parenting #siblings #boy bands

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xxzlushiez · 2 years ago

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Angelic girl

T. Kaulitz x f! Reader

Synopsis: Tom sees a girl and she like looks like a complete angel he tries to do his little flirty things with her but she just ignores it and it makes him like her even more.

Tags: Name is attractive, clingy Tom, couple goals Frl, toms whipped, the band finds it funny, touchy Tom, make out seshs after concerts

“Even if my heart stops beatin, you’re the only thing I need… with me.”

- the first time he saw you his eyes were GLUED

- it was post concert and he was just out goofing around buying random stuff with the band when he saw you

- You were just on the phone talking with a friend and getting snacks at a small corner shop

- But bro he was whipped

- wide eyed and all, might’ve walked into a shelf of accident

- his eyes would not leave you the whole time you were browsing around the store

- let’s say you caught him staring and he just looked like a deer in the headlights bc he didn’t expect to be caught

- you laughed and said something to your friend on the phone abt him before walking past him to pay

- once he snapped out of it and saw you were leaving he chased after you

- leaving the rest of the group staring at him like 😐 “tf just happened”

- when he DID catch up to you and got your attention he would try and play it off and would be like-

- “hey, I’m Tom-“ would probably try and lean up against a wall but would slip and almost fall bc he wasn’t close enough to it

- you legit stared at him like 🤨 not impressed

- “Uhh…I’ll call you back”

- you looked him up and down and asked if he needed anything

- he tries use pick up lines on you but you just laugh a little and walk away and leave him following you like a kicked puppy while you continued to talk with your friend

- Bill and Gustav are def staring at him from the convenience store window like🧍while Georg is hyping him up

- is a persistent mf and eventually sets up a hangout with you the following day (he begged on his knees and clung onto your leg until you accepted)

- pictures show up all over the media speculating on you two’s relationship

- photos are mostly of Tom getting walked like a dog by you

- he’s always walking behind you while you lead him to god knows where

- tags along everywhere you go even for minuscule things

- many comment on how different his attitude is when he’s with you

- once y’all are closer, dating or not he is alllll over you 24/7

- can never stay away from you

- head on the shoulder hugging you from behind while you talk with someone

- playing with the belt loops on your pants while you play with his hair while talking with the band

- Hand on your lower back while walking the carpet or through crowds of paparazzi

- makes out w/ you after concerts bc of that adrenaline rush and you both love it sm

- against the wall backstage n everything

- grabs at anything he can but most you’re waist

- loves pushing his hips flush against yours

- whiny if you tell him he has something scheduled and can’t spend time with you

- always touching your ass and doesn’t care who sees wants ppl to see

- literally had to kick him out so you could shower alone one time bc he wouldn’t leave

- eventually you just accepted you’ll have to shower with someone all the time

- You def pulled him he didn’t pull you

- he’s not ashamed to admit that

- Lowkey moody when you’re not around and with him and it drives the band crazy

- head over heels type of love with him

- always staring at you with puppy dog eyes

-watches you do your hair and makeup

- sneak peeks what you’re wearing so he can subtly match in his own style

- when fans try to flirt he’s like 🏃”Name where’s Name”

- One time a fan tried to get his attention by showing off the shirt she was wearing and showing her chest and he was like…

- “How would Name look in that”🤔

- “Name would NOT wear something like that”

- said it out loud one time and almost made a fan cry but apologized bc Bill said so

- but Tom is Tom and if you notice him checking someone out or flirting without knowing you’d set him straight

- you know your worth and tell him off if needed

- but the chance he would is like one in a million because who is better than you?

- ‘no one’ is the answer

- interviewee’s would try and bring up how much he changed relationship wise and he’s like

- “well yeah I’m literally dating her why would I want anyone else?”

- def teased by Bill and Georg on how whipped he is

- doesn’t deny it at all and just nods his head like “yeah Ik bro isnt she great”

- Carves your name on the side of one of his guitar with a knife and it’s all wobbly and messy but you loved it and he was so giddy abt it

- if you have piercings he’ll get matching ones

- comments on your appearance 24/7

- “You’re so hot”

- “did you get prettier?”

- “is that skirt new?”

- you always put him in his place without even saying anything

- like he say smth and you just staring and him and he’s like

- “ I was just kidding babe of course just jokes😁”

- sweats bullets when when you guys fight abt things bc you are scary

- Begs for forgiveness

- Buys you so much stuff and doesn’t stop even if you want him to

- I feel like gift giving is his love language and there is no stopping it (just accept them it makes him cheese so hard he’s all happy and will kickin his feet n shit when you aren’t looking)

- named “teen couple of the year” in lots of magazines

- he keeps those magazines inside of his nightstand

- gets so many questions abt you in interviews

- gets a little to personal with the answers

- embarrasses you sometimes but find it amusing and so does he

- even fans can’t get mad because you guys r just so cute together

- literally some fans named yall #goals

- The band loves you guys together because it brings out the good in Tom

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star-suh · 7 months ago

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Livin’ La Vida Loca

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: top chris, stripper reader, anonymous sex, protected sex, marking, pulling the thong to the side, chest play, riding, in the desk, against the door, hungry sex (like it's something chris was craving for so long), facial.

—

“finally, it's saturday” chris hummed, it was a tiring week full of work, so a free day was refreshing to him. he was walking down the street filled with street food stands, shops with colorful lights and neon signs when something caught his attention.

“little shop of eros… what a curious sign” he obviously knew what the sign meant but still curiosity got the best of him, “i guess a strip show wouldn't be that bad to relieve my stress” little did he know it would do more than that”.

“welcome gentleman, here let me take your coat” the man in the door extended his arms and chris handed him his coat, “welcome to little shop of eros, home to one of the best strippers in the country. you might want to use this mask if you don't want your identity to be known” then the man pointed to one of the seats near the bar, "please take a seat, the show is almost starting" he adds.

chris accommodates himself in the seat asking for a whiskey on the rocks when suddenly all the lights are gone, “what” he muttered quietly. then the lights are turned on again but this time they're all red. the figure of a man appeared, he was wearing very short shorts that left nothing to the imagination, some straps that went from the front of the shorts to the back of it and it covered his nipples, a little bow tie and a mask.

he started to dance on the silver pole, going up and down of it with swift sexy movements, movements that caught chris’s attention. the stripper kept on dancing and started to discard his clothes, it's not like he has a lot of them anyway. first the straps, they fell and revealed his nipples, they were hard and with a red mark due to how tight the straps were. then it’s turn for the shorts, he unzipped and unbuttoned them, they went down slowly, he was teasing the spectators, to make them eager to see his almost naked body.

“so sexy”; “fuck! i need him”; “i want to touch it” and more things can be heard in the public, they all were watching yn dancing again in the pole but this time with just a thong the front part covering his bulge while the back part, a fine strap of fabric, was in between his ass cheeks.

something rose in chris's pants, a big bulge was forming after seeing him, his suggestive movements, his sexy body. chris would be a fool if he doesn't so something to meet yn. “i see you're quite interested in him” a man near him says, staring at his bulge, “you can meet him backstage” the unknown man chugged the remaining alcohol on his glass “he's the one who decides if he accepts you or not tho” he adds and then leaves.

seeing the opportunity he quickly drinks all the glass of alcohol and went backstage looking for his room. he knocks but no ones opening the door, he knocks again until he hears a “coming” from the other side of the door. “hello stranger” he greets. chris saw him without the mask, he's even prettier. “umm hello?” yn asks again “how can i help you?”.

“i wanted to meet you” chris replied quickly. “i see.. what's your name?”; “chris” he almost yells it, causing yn to laugh a little, “okay mr. chris please come in”, yn opens the door completely letting the masked man enter.

it started as a gentle kiss session, they're mouths connected to each other, chris’ plump lips tasted like strawberry due to the lip balm he was using. their tongues intertwined with each other, saliva being shared and lips being bitten. “you taste so good mr. chris” yn said with clenched teeth biting the other's lower lip, “i say the same” he replies.

chris takes a small package out of his pocket and opens it using his teeth, taking out the condom from it. "wow, you came prepared for this, didn't you?" yn spits and sucks chris’ shaft for few seconds and then slides the condom little by little. “so heavy and thick” yn blurted out while massaging it a bit and kissing chris’ neck. the top accommodated himself on the chair in a comfortable position and yn sat on top of him, pulling his black thong to the side, letting his hole swallow that juicy dick. “hngh… i missed this feeling" mentions yn "a delicious cock stretching my hole”. chris moved his hips in a slow sensual manner, opening those insides. “you're so tight” he cooes and kisses yn’s chest, swirling his tongue in his erect nipples and leaving some bite marks on it, while yn ride him, loving the burning sensation he's feeling inside.

the both were enjoying the slow, almost sensual, pace but chris wanted more. he hugged yn tightly, his thrusts were gaining speed “i want more” he said, neediness in his tone “i want more of you, may i?”.

“shi…” yn murmurs, the pleasurable sensation kicking in “just don't break me, man” he joked giving chris the green light to let him do whatever he wants.

chris lifted yn from the chair with his cock still buried deep inside him. yn rode him like that, trusting that chris’ strong veiny arms would not let him fall to the floor. “is so fucking good… mr. chris” yn whimpered, his ass cheek clashing against chris’ heavy cum-filled balls. “your hole is top tier yn, the best hole i've ever had” he praises.

chris sat yn into the desk and make him lean so he can receive his cock properly. yn's sweaty back steaming the mirror. the thrusts become so harsher that the desk started moving. “i… told you not to b-break me b-but that doesn't mean y…ou can break my… my things” yn managed to say while his sweet spot was being brushed by chris' tip.

chris white shirt was starting to get wet, it sticked to his body making him look way sexier. the sight of the sweat beads rolling down his toned chest made yn hornier. he unbuttoned the shirt enough to see the other's chest, ‘so sexy’ he thought. the mirror was completely fogged up, the sex session was being a success. both people fulfilling their needs in such a passionate and sexy way, it felt as if they were the only ones in the world right now. yn pinched his nipples, gripped his tits so hard it let his handprints on it “i love how they jiggle while you pound my hole”.

once again chris lifted him and made him stand facing the door, yn was being pushed against it while chris rails him and covered his mouth to muffle his moans. “i’m gonna cum” he said. he grabbed the strings of the thong grabbing it and then letting it go, adoring the sound it made when it clashed against the other's ass. chris grabbed both ass cheeks, gripping them hard, to make yn meet his thrusts. it was like yn was his toy and he wasn't complaining, he hadn't felt that good in such a long time. “mr. chris i have a request” he breathes deeply “i wanna see your face while you cum in mine”. chris hesitated but then agreed, as a way to make him know he was grateful for that amazing night he is having.

yn was speechless, chris was so pretty, beautiful, gorgeous. those words weren't enough to describe his looks. “what?” chris asked with some concern. “nothing.. it’s just that you're so beautiful, i-i-i really mean it” chris can almost see stars sparkling on his eyes, ‘cute’ he thought.

with just a few more strokes chris came on the other’s face, some of it landing on his tongue so he swallowed it, “i like your flavor mr. chris” he clean his face and kissed him.

“thank you so much for tonight” chris bowed to yn, “i’ll never forget it”; “me neither” yn replied with a smile adorning his face, bowing back.

since that day little shop of eros was like a second home to chris, he went there almost every day just to see and chat with yn, sometimes they even had sex too. a cute relationship was born since that first night, that unforgettable sex night.

#christopher chan x male reader smut #christopher chan smut #christopher bang chan x male reader #christopher chan x male reader #christopher bang chan x male reader smut #bang chan x male reader smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

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koiiiji · 5 months ago

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lookism x reader. between takes

summary ; lookism actually is a series, and all guys are just actors, same as you, so you happen to meet with them backstage.

starring ; seongji, jungoo, jongun, gimyong

SEONGJI x demon!reader

the bustling film set was alive with energy. you were taking a break from your role, when you spotted Seongji Yook across the lot. his team was filming scenes for “lookism,” in the mountains of cheongliang too. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend. Seongji noticed you and waved, making his way over with a grin. “nice horns. going for a new look?”

you laughed, adjusting your tail. “just trying something different. how’s the day going on your end?” he shrugged, glancing at his hands and feet. “i feel kinda weird with this,” he said, gesturing to the fake extra finger on each hand and foot.

“really?” you asked ironically, pointing at your demoniacal makeup, horns on your forehead and the tail behind you. “i think we’re both quite the spectacle here”

as you both found a quiet spot to sit, the conversation flowed easily. you talked about your roles, shared behind-the-scenes stories, and teased each other about your costumes.

“you make a pretty convincing demon,” Seongji said, his tone teasing yet sincere. “i’d say you’re stealing the show.”

“thanks, but i think you’re the real star,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “i saw you on set, your scenes have been incredible, your appearance in “lookism” will blow the whole show.”

there was a comfortable silence, the kind only shared between good friends. yet beneath it, there was an unspoken tension, that nobody dared to speak about. Seongji leaned back, watching the crew set up for the next scene. “you know, i’ve always admired how dedicated you are to your roles.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words feeling more personal than casual. “thank you, Seongji, i really appreciate it!”

and before you knew it, the break was over, and you both had to return to your sets. as you stood, Seongji hesitated for a moment. “hey, maybe we could grab dinner after filming wraps up?”

the invitation hung in the air, filled with possibilities. “i’d like that,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

with a shared smile, you parted ways, the encounter leaving you with a sense of anticipation.

JUNGOO x pirate!reader

cozy coffee shop was bustling with the morning crowd. you felt a bit out of place in your full pirate costume — with oversized shirt, high knee boots and tight corset, complete with a big hat adorned with feathers and all small accessories everywhere. your team took a break from filming, you all needed a caffeine boost. as you waited for your order, the door chimed, and in walked Jungoo Kim. you heard that his team filming “lookism” somewhere near your location. his costume torn in some spots and covered in fake blood, his skin in bruises from a fight scene and hair is messy. despite his rough appearance, he carried himself with his usual charismatic confidence.

your eyes met briefly, and you both did a double take. you recognized him instantly — you kinda were his fan, he is an actor you secretly admired and respected.

he recognized you as well, approaching with a playful grin, trying to play it cool. “ahoy there, captain,” he called out with a playful grin as he sauntered over. “looking for treasure, or have you already stolen it with that outfit?”

you laughed, tipping your hat. “just trying to keep myself and the crew in line.” you smiled, waving your head to the side where your set colleagues were sitting, feeling your cheeks warm. “and what about you, mister criminal? fighting off enemies before breakfast?”

Jungoo smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “thought i’d see if the rumors were true about a captivating pirate queen causing a stir. seems they were right.”

you leaned back on the counter, smiling conspiratorially at him, playing along with his little performance, “ah, so you're not here by chance, and it's you the one who are looking for treasure here” you smiled teasingly, lifting your chin, the feathers on your hat trembled slightly.

“well, you caught me,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling. “i do have a knack for looking for treasures. maybe i should join your crew — think you could handle the competition?”

“only if you promise not to steal my spotlight,” you bantered back, imagining him in a tricorn hat and boots.

Jungoo leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “i promise to keep the spotlight firmly on you. though, i might steal a dance from the captain.”

the playful exchange left you smiling, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than expected.

“i have to admit, i’ve been a fan of your work for a while,” he confessed, suddenly trying to sound nonchalant. “your performances are always captivating.”

surprised and flattered, you replied, “really? i’ve been following your career too. your fight scenes with sword are legendary.”

but as the director burst into the cafe and barked at everyone, urging them to return to set to start filming, Jungoo offered you a wink. “break a leg, captain. i’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

with a wave, you returned to your role, feeling a bit more buoyant from the encounter.

JONGUN x black swan!reader

film studio was a maze of sets and props, buzzing with activity. you were navigating the corridors, adjusting to the thick black eye lenses you wore for your role as the black swan in upcoming film. they made everything difficult to see, but the effect was stunning on camera.

as you carefully made your way to the break room, you suddenly collided with someone. the impact, unexpected and strong, caused you to lose your balance and fall.

“whoa!” a deep voice exclaimed. you found yourself looking up at Park Jongun, who was also wearing the same intense black lenses for his role on the neighbor set.

“i’m so sorry!” you said, embarrassed as you tried to regain your footing. Jongun quickly helped you up, grabbing your wrist, pulling. you to his broad chesr, a little harder then he should have. his grip steady. “no, it’s my fault. these lenses make it hard to see anything.”

“tell me about it. i’ve been bumping into everything.” you laughed softly, brushing yourself off. he glanced at your costume, noticing the contrast between your delicate ballerina attire and his all bruised and blooded body makeup. “looks like we’re playing quite opposite roles.” he said, finally losing his grip and letting you go.

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious. “i had to lose a lot of weight for this role, so i’m not exactly steady on my feet.”

Jongun offered you a charm smile. “you look incredible, though. very convincing as a ballerina.”

“thanks,” you replied, appreciating his kindness. “i’m guessing you’re the tough guy in your film?”

he nodded, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. “yeah, shiro oni, always ready for few crazy fights. but i promise i’m not as scary in real life.”

as you continued talking, you found Jongun to be easygoing and surprisingly funny. you shared stories about your roles and the challenges of filming with these horrible jet black lenses.

“next time, we should get a guide dog,” he joked, making you laugh.

“or maybe just a cane,” you suggested, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

eventually, it was time to return to your respective sets. “it was nice bumping into you — literally. let’s try to meet again when we can actually see each other.” Jongun smiled dazzlingly again, gently clasping your wrist, and leaving a light, soft kiss your knuckles.

“deal?” he asked with a charm grin, while you stand there smiling shyly, feeling a newfound connection.

“i’d like that,” you replied, feeling grateful for the unexpected encounter. with a wave, you both headed back to work, the meeting leaving you with a smile and the possibility of a new connection.

GIMYONG x targaryen princess!reader

sun was beginning to set over the bustling film set near the sea, casting a warm glow on the neighboring sets of two popular series. one set belonged to the fantasy series where you played a targaryen princess, and the other to the hit show "lookism," where Gimyong had one of the main roles.

he had often glanced toward your set during breaks, intrigued by the regal world of dragons and thrones. he'd heard about y&u from mutual crew members and quietly admired you from afar.

but today, fate seemed to favor him. a scheduling overlap meant both productions were on a break simultaneously. seizing the opportunity, Gimyong wandered over, pretending to be curious about the elaborate set design.

as you stepped outside, still in your flowing, black gown embroidered with red and gold threads, depicting scales, tails and heads of dragons on the sleeves and collar. you saw Gimyong standing nearby, looking somewhat out of place in his black coat. classic black trousers, white shirt and loafers amidst the medieval backdrop.

“hey, aren't you from "lookism?"” you asked, recognizing him from the posters plastered around the studio. he abruptly pulled his hand away from the blue weird machine that soon will be turned into your dragon with computers cgi effects help. he beamed at you, intensively nodding. he was a bit surprised but pleased you knew of him. “yeah, i'm Gimyong. i've been curious about your set for a while. it's got quite the atmosphere.”

you smiled, appreciating his interest. “it's definitely a different world over here. i'm [y/n], by the way.”

“it's nice to finally meet you,”he said, but paused himself for a moment, glancing back at weird blue platform. he noticed once, that your team usually shoot scenes of flying on dragon's back on this thing. brilliant pick up line immediately was born in his head.

“sooo that’s supposed to be your dragon on screen, right?” he grinned, swinging onto the platform from behind, trying to play it cool, but it came out a little awkward, as you can see he is clearly nervous. you giggled softly, but decided to play along, already understanding what he was leading to.

“yes, his name is Vermithor, really huge dragon.” you elegantly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide a shameless smile, at Gimyong’s attempt to flirt.

“you know, im kinda dragon myself, being the son of a golden dragon… so how about safe the dragon and ride-” you couldn't let him finish the sentence, bursting into laughter from his pickup line and such a self-confident face. Gimyong was truly humongous man.

in fact, he was not confused or upset by your laughter, because in the end he amused you. his light laugh joined yours and he was happy that he made you laugh.

“no, but seriously, i’ve heard great things about your performance.”

“thank you! it’s been a dream role for me,” you replied warmly, your genuine smile still playing on your lips. “i’ve seen a few episodes of lookism — i absolutely in love with it! your character is such a gentleman.” you exclaimed admiringly, remembering all the scenes where Gimyong was filming with his 'mother', and how cheerful his character was, representing a wonderful leader.

as you talked, the conversation flowed naturally, and Gimyong felt his initial nervousness fading away. he found himself captivated not just by your talent, but by your genuine enthusiasm and kindness.

“maybe you could give me a tour of your set sometime?” Gimyong suggested, hoping to extend the conversation — and his time with you.

“i’d love that,” you replied, intrigued by the idea. “and maybe i could visit yours. i’ve always been curious about how you bring such a cool fightings to life.”

with a shared promise to explore each other’s worlds, Gimyong returned to his set with a newfound excitement. meeting you had been even better than he imagined, and he couldn't wait when you will visit his set, to show off in front of you with his skills and muscles.

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swiftalchemy · 7 months ago

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Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off

Taylor Swift x fem!reader smut

warnings: smut, oral(r!receiving), fingering(r!receiving), thigh/knee riding(r!receiving), fem!reader

summary: Taylor wasn't expecting you at her show, as you had dinner planned with your parents. But, in a turn of events when your dad gets the flu, you buy a dress to surprise her with at her concert. After that, she can't keep her hands off you.

word count: 4.2k

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

Taylor frolicked around the stage, her body boneless as she flowed like wind. It was muscle memory at this point, the way she moved.

You weren’t meant to show up at tonight's show, you had a dinner with your family, since she was touring in your hometown. But, your dad got the flu earlier this morning, so they cancelled on you and said they’d arrange something soon. So, without telling Taylor, you bid her goodbye, telling her you were meeting up for dinner, when you went shopping.

Your eyes scanned the racks, trying to decide on a dress for tonight's show. Finally, one caught your eye, a dark red one. Red was Taylor’s favourite colour, and as soon as you tried it on, you knew she would love it. You bought the dress, went home to get ready, and headed straight to her concert.

You knew she was about an hour in already, and when you showed up, they let you into the VIP tent.

Taylor was halfway through a song, one that was an earlier release, and from a previous album. As she went on, singing as she swayed back and forth, she scanned the stage and saw you in the VIP tent. Her eyes lit up.

She had to keep her cool, but she was screaming internally, ecstatic to see you there. She sang the words to you, a smile present on her face, a soft light blush appearing on her cheeks.

She kept going as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but every time she got a chance, she would look over at you, grinning every time. She even messed up a few times, giggling a bit at herself every time she glanced back at you and caught your eye.

She tried to be subtle, but her movements were a bit more exaggerated, the way she moved her hips being more obvious now. She knew that every movement, every wink, every sway, was driving you absolutely insane.

She wrapped up the song soon, breathing heavily. It was the last song of the night, and she was still riding the high from the start to finish. She was still a little out of breath from moving on the stage.

"Thank you guys for coming out tonight, you guys are so amazing."

The band played and gave it their very all as her and all her backup dancers and singers exited the stage for their final time tonight.

As soon as it hit the very second she walked backstage, her breathing steadied, her face flushed from the adrenaline. She took a few seconds to regain herself after all the excitement, and she saw you waiting.

Taylor's eyes widened when she saw you, her heart fluttering as she saw the state you were in. Not only were you already perfect, but in the dress you had picked, she could barely keep herself from screaming and jumping on you right then and there.

“What are you doing here!” she shrieked in excitement as she ran over towards you, wrapping her arms around your neck.

She held you tight, pressing her body into yours as she buried herself in you. She looked down at the dress you were wearing, her lips parting. She was struggling to keep her breath steady as she took in the sight of you, her hands gently moving to your hips.

“You look…” she breathed, licking her lips as her eyes raked your body. Taylor was biting her lip already, trying to contain herself. “You look so good, you know I love you in red.” Her hand slid across your chest, her fingers trailing down to your hips.

“Hmm why thank you…” you responded to her, interlocking your fingers with hers.

“I have half a mind to drag you to the nearest closet and show you just how much I love this dress.” she purred, her chest just inches from yours, her body flush against you.

“Well, we can’t have you doing that, can we?” you giggle to her “How about you get all packed up for the night, and we’ll go back to the hotel, yeah?” you propose the idea.

She sighs, knowing you’ve got a point, but can’t help feeling like a spoiled child when you tell her no. “Fineeee.” She drags out the syllable in such a dramatic fashion, before she steps away from you, giving you the perfect view of her from behind, as she starts to pack her things up into her bag.

As she stuffs her things away, Taylor turns to look at you, her eyes once again falling upon the dress. Her heart fluttered. After a few moments, she was done packing, her bag in one her as she took you by the hand.

As soon as she pulled you close to her, she was gripping your hips, her eyes moving from your lips to your eyes, over and over again, her thoughts clouded with you.

“Let’s goooo” you say in a sing-song like voice, tugging her hand towards the exit. As you two made your way out from underneath the stage, the remaining crowds in the stands cheered. She gave them a wave and a sweet smile, thanking them once again for coming to her show. You two ran towards the car, fingers intertwined, as you leaped into the backseat.

Taylor was sitting as close as she could get to you, her body pressed against yours. She kept a tight grip on your hand, her thumb running over your knuckles. It was obvious that she was still struggling to keep her breathing steady, the excitement from the show, and her desire for you, clearly still consuming her.

She leaned her head on your shoulder, her breath hot on your skin as she nuzzled into your neck, a soft whimper escaping her lips. One of her hands slipped around your waist, sliding up and down, gently caressing your hip, her legs crossing over one another as she tried to distract herself.

“It’s only a few minutes, Tay…” you attempt to sooth her.

She groaned in annoyance at your words, even though she knew they were true. She was never very good with patience, and she always got worked up like this after a show, this was no different.

“A few minutes is forever when I just want to get you alone.” she whined, her hand gripping your hip a bit tighter.

She gently pressed open mouthed kisses to your collarbone and neck, as best she could while moving in the car, her breathing hot and ragged. She wasn’t thinking straight right now, all she could think about was the feeling of your body against hers, and how badly she just wanted to be with you.

“Tay…” you breathlessly say out as the driver pulls into the hotel where you two are staying.

As soon as your car comes to a stop, Taylor is throwing the door open. She gives the driver a quick thank you, before she’s grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the car with her, her pace quick as she practically drags you through the lobby and into the elevator.

The elevator seems to move slower than normal, and Taylor’s patience is growing shorter and shorter with each passing second. Her hand is gripping yours hard, her eyes trained on you. She’s biting her lip again, the elevator ride suddenly seeming like an unbearable wait for her. “Come on, come on…” she mumbles under her breath, the elevator’s speed not nearly fast enough for her right now.

As soon as the elevator doors open, Taylor is practically pulling you out into the hallway and towards your room. She has the key ready, fumbling with the door for a few moments, before it finally opens, and she's pulling you into the room with her, shutting the door behind her with a thud.

As soon as the door closes, she’s already on you, shoving you up against the door, her arms on either side of you, pinning you in place. Her breathing is harsh and ragged, her eyes raking up and down your body, taking in every last inch of you in that dress.

“Did you buy this just for me?”

“Only bought it so you could take it off,” you tease with a shrug of your shoulders, referencing a lyric of hers.

Taylor’s lips parted, her gaze darkening as she took in your words. A smirk appeared on her face, and she moved forward, her body pressing up against yours. Her hand found your hip, grasping at the red fabric of the dress, her hand slowly gliding up and down your body.

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot more than just take it off.”

She leaned in close, her mouth hovering just millimeters from yours, her hand gripping your hip hard enough to dig her nails into you. “I’m gonna ruin this dress.” She whispered, her eyes falling on your lips, her own mouth curling into a smirk.

Without another word, her mouth was on yours, hungrily. It was like she couldn’t get enough of you, like she couldn’t get you close enough. The kiss was needy and messy, a clear sign of how badly she wanted you right now. Her body was pressed flush against yours, her tongue sliding over your lip desperately.

Her hands slid up and down your body, her fingers digging into your skin, desperate for the feeling of flesh on flesh. She’s letting out little whimpers into the kiss, her body flush against yours, her hips grinding against you subtly, the action an attempt to relieve some of the need building in her body.

She finally pulls away, her breathing heavy, her eyes darting all over your face, taking in every inch of you. Her hands keep moving, running down your sides, fingers slipping under the dress to gently caress your thighs. Her voice is low and shaky when she finally speaks.

“You have no idea how insane you drive me, how much I need you right now.”

“Well I’m not exactly saying no, am I?”

Taylor groans, her lips finding your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. Her fingers curled tighter into the fabric of the dress as her mouth works down your neck, leaving little marks here and there. She bites down just enough to get a soft moan out of you, gently sucking the spot she just bit to make a mark.

Taylor grabs your hand, yanking you off the door, and pulls you over towards the bed. She pushes you down, the backs of your knees meeting the edge of the bed as your legs give way, and she straddles you, her hands running down your body.

She leans down, her mouth by your ear, and her hands continue to trail down, moving to the hem of the dress. She’s tracing the edge of it with her fingertips, a smirk on her face.

She’s taking her time, knowing full well how much it’s driving you crazy. Every touch of her hands feels like fire against you, the way her fingers just gently graze your skin sending a shiver up your body. She’s taking her time, and she likes it.

“God, this dress is too gorgeous on you.” she purrs, her hands slowly inching the dress up your thighs.

“I knew you’d like it…” you reply breathlessly.

She smiles, her hands gently gripping your thighs, her eyes trailing up the length of your body, admiring every inch of the dress.

“You always look amazing, but this…” she trails off, her voice shaky as she tries to find the words.

“This is driving me crazy.”

She’s slowly moving her hands up, the dress gathering around your waist. Her mouth is at your neck, kissing and biting the skin, her tongue working its way over you.

Taylor's fingers toy with the edges of lace panties she finds there, her hips grinding down into you subtly. Her lips find their way to yours again, her tongue slipping into your mouth as her hands continue to wander.

She can tell how badly you want her, how much you need her, but she wants to get you even more worked up. She takes her time, slowly moving the dress up your body just enough to expose your torso, her hands gently caressing the newly exposed skin.

“You’re so good to me, I need you so bad right now.” she murmurs into your neck, another small bite to the sensitive skin.

You hum intently into the kiss, feeling her everywhere, “Please,” you plead for her to do something. Anything.

Taylor’s hands grip your hips hard when you plead to her, her fingers digging into the bare skin, leaving red marks behind. Her breathing hitches, your begging getting to her just as expected.

“Please what?” she murmurs, her lips by your ear.

“You know exactly what.” you groan in frustration.

A soft chuckle escapes her lips as she hears your plea. She’s enjoying every second of this, the way you're begging for her, desperate for her to touch you. She knows exactly what you need, but she wants you to beg for it even more. She wants to drag this out.

"I want to hear you say it."

“Please touch me, Tay” you ask her.

Taylor's eyes darkened as the words left your lips. Her breath was heavy, her body flush against yours, her own need for you growing almost unbearable. She wanted to tease you some more, keep you on the edge, but when you begged her, she knew she couldn’t keep this up.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” she whispered, her mouth crashing into yours once more, hungrily.

Her hands slid up your body, sliding under the dress before her hand found its way to your chest, a gasp escaping your lips as her thumb ran over your hard nipple.

Taylor was moving quickly now, knowing how desperate you were for her. She didn't want to make you wait any longer, not when she could hear the need in your voice, the way you were begging for her.

She pulled the dress up over your head and tossed it aside, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of you in nothing but lace panties and her favorite color.

“You look so pretty in red.” she murmured, her eyes roaming over you, taking in every inch of your body. Her hands found their way back to your inner thighs, her fingernails grazing the skin delicately.

She pressed her body flush against yours, one of her legs sliding between yours, her knee pressing up against you. She leaned down to whisper into your ear, her breath hot against your skin.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

“Oh, fuck…” you slightly moan as her knee presses against you, the much needed friction hitting you in the right place.

You nod frantically, “Yes, Taylor, please…” you respond to her.

A soft hum vibrates through her throat as she hears your words, hearing you needing her so badly was almost too much. Her mouth finds your neck, making her way down to your shoulder, her own breathing growing heavier.

“I love it when you ask so nicely.” She whispered against your skin, her knee pressing up even harder, making sure to get the perfect angle to make you moan for her.

She’s moving her mouth all over you, kissing and nipping at your skin, leaving a trail of red marks behind. Her hands are moving with her mouth, her soft fingers dancing over your body, making you shiver.

Taylor’s knee is pressing up even more, desperate to hear more of those little moans escape your lips, wanting to hear just how bad you need her as badly as she needs you right now.

“Fuck, Tay” you whimper out, “Do more, please. Stop teasing.”

Taylor’s eyes darkened, hearing you beg for her to do more, to stop teasing you. How could she refuse when you were pleading for her like that, she didn’t want either of you to wait anymore.

“You want me to stop teasing?” she practically purred, her knee pressing against you even more, just to hear that cute little whimper out of you again before she finally gave in to your pleads.

She pushed you down even further onto the bed, her body leaning over yours, her hips slowly grinding down into you. She leaned down to your ear again, her hot breath falling over your skin as she began to speak, her voice low and hoarse.

“You want me to touch you? You want me to make you feel good?” her hand was running its way up your thigh again, higher and higher with each passing moment.

“Yeah…” you almost plead.

Taylor’s hand slips between your legs, her fingers playing gently over the lace of your panties, barely touching you. She’s just toying with you right now, hearing your pleading moans and whimpers, loving the way you’re under her, like you’re just at her mercy completely.

“Is this what you want?” she practically whispered against the skin of your neck, nipping it gently.

“Mhm…” you react to her touch.

Taylor’s touch gets a bit rougher, still gently tracing the edge of your lace panties, the thin fabric the only thing keeping her from touching you the way you really want her to, the way you’re practically begging her to do.

She loves seeing you like this, pleading for her, under her, completely at her mercy. Her hand finally slides underneath the lace, her fingers gliding gently over your skin, hearing the little whimpers as she teases you.

Her teeth graze your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin, her tongue leaving little chills against you. Her fingers are working against you now, slipping through your slick folds, rubbing and pressing all the right places.

She loves being the cause of these soft little sounds, the moans and whimpers, the way your body is pressed against hers, writhing under her every touch. She can hear how badly you need her, and she’s just taking her time with you, enjoying how much she’s driving you crazy right now.

Her fingers press up against your clit, her touch rougher now, wanting to hear how much her touch is affecting you, hearing your little whimpers and moans.

Taylor’s watching every single reaction you make. The little gasps, the way your body is arching up into her touch, the way you’re moaning her name, she loves it. She loves seeing you come undone under her, it’s one of her favorite things. She’s relentless with her touch, her fingers rubbing and pressing against that sensitive little bud, desperate to make you come apart completely for her.

One of her fingers dips to trace your gaping hole, preparing you before slowly pushing one in. She curls it, hitting your wall just right.

You can practically feel her smile against your neck as she hears the sounds she’s pulling out of you. She loves hearing you moan for her, beg for her, the way you’re practically falling apart from her touch, how you’re practically at her mercy. You’re just exactly where she wanted you.

She slowly slides a second finger into you, her mouth gently nipping and sucking at your neck, her pace fast and deliberate, wanting you to get closer and closer.

“Shit!” you gasp as she adds the second finger, rutting your hips up into her hand, almost fucking yourself onto her.

Your little gasp and the way you grind your hips against her hand are almost too much for Taylor as her own body is aching, wanting to touch you everywhere, but she’s too focused on the way you’re falling apart for her right now.

“You like that?” she murmurs against your neck, her fingers curling and pumping into you, wanting to hear you moan for her more, needing to hear your pleading words.

“Yeah… you’re too good- fuck… to me, baby.”

Taylor’s lips find yours again, hungrily, kissing you fiercely as her fingers keep moving, pumping into you perfectly. She wants to make you feel good, she loves hearing how good she’s making you feel. The little gasps that are escaping your lips are just perfect to her.

She pulls her lips from your, her mouth by your ear as she whispered, “You’re all mine,” her fingers picking up the pace, wanting to hear you come undone for her.

Her head removes itself from your head, moving down your body. She reaches your panties, already pulled to the side, as she kitten licks your clit.

Taylor's tongue is working over you quickly, wanting to hear those moans and gasps fall from your lips. Her tongue knows just how to get you going.

Taylor’s grip on your thighs get tighter as she hears you moaning her name, loving just how good she’s making you feel. She’s working over your clit, her tongue hitting every sensitive place that makes your hips jerk up into her mouth.

She removes her mouth for a second, spitting on your pussy, then coming down and licking a flat stripe upon it. She flicks her tongue for a few seconds before puckering her mouth and sucking on your clit.

Taylor knows all of your weak spots, how to get you to fall completely to pieces with her tongue working over you, your moans and gasps growing louder by the second.

You hand darts out as you intertwine your fingers in her golden hair. Your hips rock against her fingers working inside of you and her mouth on your pussy, desperate to come.

Your fingers in her hair are sending tingles down Taylor’s spine, she loves how much you’re needing them everywhere on you right now, how you’re holding on to her, like you can’t get enough of her hands. She can hear you, she’s taking you right to the edge.

She can hear your breathing getting heavier, almost faster, the little whimpers and gasps escaping your lips between moans of her name, and it’s all she needs. She’s right there with you, so close to the edge, and all she needs is to hear you fall apart for her.

“Oh, fuck! Tay I’m so, so, so close! Please don’t stop! Don’t stop!” you pathetically whine out.

Taylor’s head dives back down between your legs, not stopping for anything. Her tongue is working over you, wanting to hear you come apart, needing to hear you come apart.

The grip of your fingers in her hair is getting tighter, and she can tell you’re right there, on the very edge, about to fall over, and she’s desperate to hear it, she’s desperate to hear her name falling from your lips as you come.

“Holy shit I’m gonna come…” you whip your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, her pace on you continuing to be relentless.

All Taylor can hear now is the sound of you moaning her name, desperate, pleading for her to continue as you’re right on the edge, about to come. Her pace is picking up, her hand gripped tight around your thighs, your legs beginning to shake just a little under her touch. She can hear you growing louder, the sound of her name falling from your lips just so beautiful to her.

“Tay!” you scream as you feel your legs start to shake more aggressively, your orgasm overtaking you.

Taylor’s eyes dart up to watch you fall apart. The sound of her name leaving your lips as you come is absolutely perfect to her, hearing and seeing just how good she’s made you feel, how the pleasure is overtaking you. You sound so beautiful like this, she loves every second of it. She slows down her fingers, still keeping her mouth on you, wanting to get every last moan she can out of you before she finally pulls away.

She’s gently kissing your inner thighs as she feels your body shaking, feeling the aftershocks as you slowly come down from your orgasm. She gently pulls her fingers from you, her lips making their way back up your body, leaving a trail of gentle kisses against your skin as she moves upward.

“Oh, fuck…” you say breathlessly, coming down.

Taylor's smiling against the skin of your neck with your words, still planting soft kisses all over your body. Her fingers trace delicately along your skin, feeling the way you shudder slightly with her touch. She's so happy knowing how good she's made you feel, she loves hearing you still trying to catch your breath.

Her lips finally reach yours, gently capturing them in a kiss, soft and sweet. Her hands are still on your skin, pulling your body closer to hers. She pulls away for a moment, her forehead resting against yours, her eyes closed, a soft smile on her face.

She’s enjoying this, being tangled up with you, just feeling you against her. There’s no rush, no need to do anything more right now. She’s happy just laying here with you, her fingers tracing circles lightly on your back, taking in the moment.

“So…” she starts, “You only bought the dress for me to take it off?"

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