#Tbc x reader

[donniexv]

☆ THE BREAKFAST CLUB ; these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through

GENERAL CAST ;

" Sincerely yours, The breakfast club. "

⥼ " WHATS FOR BREAKFAST ? " ★ " how you met them ." ★ headcanons

—⋆ CLAIRE STANDISH ;

" It's not like I'm a defective or anything. "

⥼ ✖

—⋆ ANDREW CLARK ;

" I mean we're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all.. "

⥼ ✖

—⋆ JOHN BENDER ;

" Sweets...you couldn't ignore me if you tried! "

⥼ ✖

—⋆ ALLISON REYNOLDS ;

" When you grow up, your heart dies. "

⥼ ✖

—⋆ BRIAN JOHNSON ;

" what do you care? You see us as you want to see us. "

⥼ ✖

[ohmyenjolrass]

can i call you tonight? | andrew clark x reader

summary: after spending all saturday together and sharing a kiss with andrew clark, you would not imagine that he would talk to you on monday at school

warnings: none, just andy being a sweetheart <3

pairings: andrew clark x fem!reader

words: 696

n/a: so i just rewatched the breakfast club and i love andy so much i could die. i wanted to write something about him. sorry if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language :)

Masterlist

________________________________________________________________

Monday, March 26th, 1984.

After spending a Saturday in detention and enjoying it way more than you expected, it was time to return to reality. You got off the bus with one thing and one thing only in your mind.

Andrew Clark kissed you on Saturday.

You didn’t know how was the situation between the two of you. You’d grown fond of each other after spending all day together in detention, and even though you would never admit it out loud, you had always had a little crush on him.

You entered the school and walked straight to your locker. You had no time to think about your feelings, with your focus on the Chemistry class you feared you’d fail. You noticed someone standing by your side as you left the stuff you didn’t need and picked up what was necessary for Chemistry class.

“Hey, Brian. What’s up?”

The blond smiled shyly. On Saturday, he said that he considered you his friends and that he would say hi to you in the corridor if he saw you. You thought that was truly sweet, and it just showed how much of a good person Brian was.

“Hey. Just wanted to say good morning. How was your Sunday?”

“It wasn’t bad. I attended a family brunch. What about you?”

“I didn’t do anything interesting. Studied a lot.”

“Good.”, the bell rang. “Hey, I gotta go. I cannot be late for Chemistry again. Mrs Wilson will kill me. Catch you later?”

“Sure. Bye!”, you waved as you fled through the corridor. Luckily, you arrived just in time, a minute or two before Mrs Wilson entered the room. She started explaining something about the Periodic Table of Elements that you couldn’t understand no matter how hard you tried.

“Psst, y/n.”, someone whispered behind you. “Y/n.”

“Sssh, I’m trying to understand this.”, you whispered back.

You started feeling little taps on your shoulder, which were kind of annoying. You turned around. “What?”

Behind you, Andrew smiled broader than ever. You blushed a little before turning back around. You really needed to pay attention to class, and you had been enough times in detention for speaking too much in class.

One hour later, when the class finished, you took your things and went back to your locker. Then, you went up the stairs for your next class.

“Y/n, hey!”, you heard Andrew somewhere in the corridor. “Wait up!”

You froze in the middle of the stairs, not knowing how to react. You haven’t spoken to him ever since he kissed you last Saturday and you weren’t sure about his feelings towards you.

You saw him climbing up the stairs to meet you, and you couldn’t help to smile a little bit.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You really ignored me in Chemistry class.”, he laughed.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Chemistry is hell for me, I really need to pass the subject.”, you said, smiling. “So, what did you want?”

“Oh, yeah.”, he opened his notebook and ripped out a tiny piece of paper. “Write your phone number there.”

“What for?”

“That way I can call you tonight.”, you noticed how Andy’s cheeks turned softly pink. “I mean, if you are okay with it.”

"Yeah, of course.", you scribbled your house phone number and gave the paper back to him.

Andrew smiled proudly as he pocketed it. Then, he looked back at you. "So, can I call you tonight?"

"Sure. 7 o'clock?"

"Perfect.", he smiled one last time and kissed you on the cheek, only to run down the stairs again. "Look for me at lunch! I want to eat with you!"

You stayed in the stairs, watching him go back to the corridor and smiled to yourself like an idiot.

"So you two are going serious? Damn, I never thought you would end up with a sportsman."

You looked up only to see Bender smirking at you. You gave him the finger jokingly as he laughed.

"Fuck you, Bender.", you said, going past him.

"Oh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

You laughed soundly as you went to your classroom, hoping it would pass quickly so you could see Andrew again.

[ms0milk]

no cw so self indulgent, farmhand nanami showed up from nowhere like he was made in a lab to bewitch you <1k

He would look better on horseback this morning, cantering through fog falling cold from the mountains. Nanami is a handsome rider and he’s strong enough to do it well. His hips roll like they should in a saddle and his hair was always meant to be mussed by a breeze. Reins fit nicely in his golden hands. Regal might be a word you use as you bundle up in your doorway, watching the man emerge from a quickly-overgrowing gate at dawn. A word you might use if Nanami was actually on horseback and not leading your horse on foot, clearly mired with bramble thorns from waist to boot.

He’s wearing your hat. Nanami draws it low to hide his face and your sweet horse nips at his hand as they walk together; their gaits are both heavy with sleep. He’s never once looked disheveled but this morning his clothes hang quite well over his jeans where he’s usually so careful to tuck them in and in all he embodies the farmhand’s equivalent for wearing odd shoes to carry groceries inside.

A canvas coat that is clearly much too small on his broad shoulders, is thrown over a dress shirt– possibly two– you’ve never seen before and he couldn’t even manage to button one closed. His undershirt glows obnoxiously underneath as it hugs the shapes of his firm body. It’s a blessing to watch, a thought you will keep to yourself, and you open your door a bit wider in invitation.

“Early ride?”

He peers out under his brim at the sound of a voice and tips the hat off his head with a quickness when he sees you. He tightens his sleepy posture. Your pretty cream gelding is returned to his stall for breakfast before Nanami answers your question.

The only thing between the back stalls and your front door is moss. The earth this farm belongs to is wet with life. A thousand horseshoes have flatted the walkway like pressed powder and still the dandelions grow, pollen falls, petals fall, rain falls, snow falls freezes and melts and still your stables are warm and your dusty clearings grow grasses. You tighten your shawl around your shoulders. The morning fields are all mist and the sun can’t be bothered to warm you.

If you surprised him, it doesn’t show. Dewed pebbles crunch under Nanami’s boots as he crosses the clearing to reach you, you standing chilly in your sleepshirt with coffee brewing in the kitchen. You’d like to know why he’s wearing half the bramble patch as pants.

“M’sorry miss,” he rasps like he hasn’t spoken yet today and a quick twitch of his brows is the only thing that hints at embarrassment. Man of few words. English doesn’t seem to be his first language but he won’t tell anyone a thing about himself past what you all can observe. He works well, he works quietly. The animals love him and he doesn’t mind a bit of dirt. Nanami showed up in town a few months ago and the old boss hired him outright when she saw him in a full suit at sunday market. Horndog. She knew how good he’d look in chaps.

“Excuse my thieving” he murmurs this time to keep his voice soft and hangs your hat on the horn beside your door.

“Don’t call me miss, Mr. Nanami.”

“Excuse that too.”

Your hat hugged him too tight and his hair suffers for it, blond bits stuck flat to his head like a teenager with bedhead. He has to hang his head low to look at you for how much taller he is and you haven’t decided whether his dedication to eye contact is chivalry or flirtation. He’ll look through you to the bone with those sharp brown eyes, even if you’ve only just whistled good morning. Something inside him can’t help but call you miss.

“I’d love to hear this story,” you yawn slightly and gesture to his outfit, “I put a pot on.”

Nanami’s head tilts so slightly as he considers all the ways he might decline such an imposing offer but when you bump the door open a touch and bitter, bread, and jam roll out into the morning air you know you’ve got him. After all, what cowboy can resist coffee?

farmhand nanami tag <3

[spikedfearn]

ROSIE @SPIKEDFEARN FIC MASTERLIST

Multi-Chapter

☆ I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It (WIP)

Two-Three Shots

☆ Let's Make Love, That Be the Only Reason That You Hit Me Up (WIP)

One-Shots

☆ You Keep on Sayin’ You in Love Tho, So Tell Me, Are You Really Down? (Yeah) (3.1k, C)

☆ Made Loving You a Blood Sport (TBC)

[enihk-writes]

oh yeah chapter 3 is now up btw 🥲👍

[mattisthehottest]

Forbidden Love

Forbidden Love

pairing: princess!readerxpeasent!matt

Summary: When the pressured princess runs into the low peasant boy Matt

word count:372

Warnings: pressuring into marriage, fighting with parents, NOT PROOFREAD, that should be all

a/n: Inspired by a lot of writers on here.

-xoxo akua

"Princes, princess, wake up!" I open my eyes, maids running around my room. this is my normal routine. "Princess, we must hurry. Your father is calling for you." I get rushed out of bed and pulled into the bathroom.

-"Yes, father?" I stand in front of the throne in a long blue gown, with gold lace designs. My father is sitting on the throne in the middle while the throne to his right is empty.The queen, my mother, fell sick to an illness that the royal physicians are still looking for a cure.

"Y/n," my father calls, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look up, seeing his cold demeanor change into one of worry. "Fath-" i start, but I am quickly cut off by him. "You need to marry soon." We've talked about this before, and it always ends the same, in an argument.

"Father, I don't want to marry, plus we haven't loo-" "You dont have a choice!" my father yells. "But it's my life which makes it my choice!" I yell back. Im so angry that I feel my body starts to shake. "You have three months to find a suitable husband." I opened my mouth to respond, but my father dismissed me.

��Matt's pov●

"Matt, come on," I hear Chris complaining. "If you helped, I wouldn't be so slow." I say, carrying a full basket of coal. This Chris guy is actually my brother. We're triplets, but Nick is at home.

We make our way home after going around buying things that are necessary. "We're back!" Chris yells. "Chris, can either you or Matt go out and buy some vegetables and seasoning?" Nick replies, and Chris immediately says, "Matt will go. "

I have one bag in arm searching for the vegetables. As I make my way through the crowd of people, I trip and fall onto a young lady. The position we land in is a bit...intimate. I

look at her face, seeing a slight blush.I quickly stand up to help her up. "I am so sorry, Miss...?" She hesitates before saying, "Y/n." Her name sounds really similar, but before i have time to question, she quickly writes me a note before running away.

[spidervee]

Just a snippet of a little story I can’t get out of my head. I don’t know if I’ll finish it (my Britishisms are poor af) but I like this part, so… tangerine x fem!reader ft. cursing and sexual tension 🌻🐝

 “S’fuckin’ hot enough to melt balls,” Tangerine grunts. Lemon looks defeated, shaking his head and sucking his teeth. 

“C’mon now, bruv, we’ve got a lady guest.” 

Tangerine smirks, a devil trimmed in Tom Ford’s finest. Before his mouth even opens, you know whatever comes out of it will be at your expense. The fire dancing in his eyes as he sweeps his gaze over you, lingering where you jut your lip out in defiance, tells you he’s in a teasing mood. 

“Where?” 

You huff, not offended but irritated. Two can play at this game, and sure, you’re the one tied to a chair with a split lip, but you know that the dress you’re wearing gives you an advantage. So bring it on, motherfucker. 

“Don’t be a twat,” Lemon chastises his brother, a well placed elbow to the ribs. Tangerine slinks out of Lemon’s way with a scowl, his fingers twitching as they toy with the lighter in his hands. 

“He can’t help it,” you chime in before Tangerine can say anything. “S’kinda his thing.” 

The look that Tangerine gives you as he flicks the lighter shut one last time and pockets it sends a tremor straight down your spine. 

You’ve won this point, apparently. But you know the game doesn’t end until one of you lands firmly on top of the other and one is pressed between body and bed (or any other sturdy surface, really; or that one unfortunate ironing board). 

[tasty-violence]

Hurt - Sun/Reader, Moon/Reader

Reader - they/them, Sun & Moon - he/they

You were just trying to do your job. Somehow, while exhaustively trying to please your automaton coworkers, you had disappointed them. You don't know how, you don't know when. If you knew how to, you would fix it.

"I got it." Sun states snippily, taking a barrel from your hands. "You will ta-take-take too long."

You grumble under your breath, face burning as you move to sweep the floor. The kids seemed to be especially messy today- glitter was everywhere on the floor, much to your dismay. You were certain that it would take years to get every bit of plastic out from the nooks and crannies of the padded floor.

Doing the best you could; you're acutely aware of Sun's eyes on you. Ignoring his looming presence, you got on your hands and knees to try and get at the glitter that slid between the floor pads. You knew he was just itching to insult you. It's all they had been doing all day.

Satisfied with your work, you sit back on your heels and toss the paper towel you had been using into the trash.

"Please do not throw things in the daycare!"

Rolling your eyes, you get to your feet and meander to the timeclock.

"Okay Mr. Sun. I'm done for the day, unless there's anything else you need?" You call, fingers hovering over the timeclock while you waited your response.

"Your resignation letter would be great-great-great!" They snap back; causing your face to flush even worse.

The needlessly aggressive comments were getting to you. You were only so tolerant.

Why did they hate you so?

End part 1.

[thesecrethistori-an]

Falling for Juanchutre:

Juanchutre x Reader

Tags: Juanchutre x Reader,

Chapter 1: Una mañana accidentada

Y/N se despertó aquel viernes con el corazón acelerado. Había dormido 7 horas, como cada día, pero apenas había descansado. Se dio una rápida ducha con agua casi hirviendo y el espejo empañado le devolvió el reflejo de una chica totalmente normal , salvo por los pronunciados surcos azulados que enmarcaban sus ojos, acusándola por no darse el descanso que merecía. Al menos sus ojeras hacían destacar más si cabe sus ojos color avellana, acentuando las motitas doradas que cubrían sus iris.

Se vistió apresuradamente, aunque a decir verdad no iba mal de tiempo, eligiendo su ropa prácticamente al azar: una camiseta desgastada de Nirvana que le quedaba demasiado grande, un grueso jersey, sus vaqueros negros y la cazadora vaquera. Era ya noviembre y quizás iba siendo hora de optar por algo que resultase más abrigoso, pero se resistía a confinar su comodísima cazadora a la profundidad de su armario hasta la primavera. "Un día más, mañana saco el abrigo", mintió.

Leyó las mismas noticias de siempre en tuiter mientras bebía su café sólo y se peleaba con su tote bag, que claramente contenía un universo paralelo en su interior, llena de cables, libretas, llaves, su portátil, bolígrafos, e infinidad de enseres inútiles.

Salió de casa dispuesta a pasar todo el trayecto en cercanías inmersa en su novela, con el volumen de la música tan alto en los auriculares que estuvo a punto de saltarse la parada de su universidad.

Echó un vistazo a su reloj: las diez y diez. Llegaba 20 minutos antes de tiempo. Se juró a sí misma que había sido una coincidencia, pero en el fondo sabía que su subconsciente la había traicionado una vez más. El motivo de sus injustificadas prisas era evidente: era viernes y quizás tuviese la oportunidad de cruzarse con él, con Juan. Sabía su nombre porque su mejor amiga Clara compartía una asignatura con él y, tras incontables interrogatorios que su amiga apenas podía responder, había ido acumulando detalles sobre el chico que atesoraba en su memoria. ¿Por qué no habría elegido ella francés como lengua optativa?

"Qué estupidez", se reprendió a sí misma mientras se dirigía a la facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Era más que evidente que alguien como él jamás se fijaría en una chica como ella... A fin de cuentas, no era como los demás estudiantes de Mundo Árabe e Islámico, recién aterrizados en la vida universitaria, tan inocentes e ingenuos, tan infantiles con sus recién cumplidos 18 años... No, Juan era diferente. Había decidido dar un giro a su monótona vida tan solo unos meses atrás, dejando una casi finalizada carrera de Derecho para volcarse en su pasión: los países de Oriente Medio.

En ese sentido, no eran tan distintos. A fin de cuentas, ella misma había descubierto que su pasión no era la biología a los pocos meses de comenzar los estudios y había decidido hacerse historiadora. Hacía ya tres años de aquello. Pero no era lo mismo, ella jamás hubiese reunido el valor de cambiarse una vez pasados cuatro años... ¡Si ni siquiera era capaz de acercársele para hablarle con el pretexto de preguntar por alguna de las optativas comunes que tendrían en el siguiente cuatrimestre!

Y/N iba absorta en sus pensamientos cuando, a través del sucio cristal de la entrada a la facultad, lo vio. Caminaba en su dirección y, antes de ser consciente de lo que hacía, se precipitó contra la gran puerta para abrirla y quizás, mantener el más mínimo contacto visual con él. Sin embargo, en su ridículo intento de aproximarse a él, Y/N olvidó por completo el resbaladizo escalón, desgastado por el incesante paso diario de decenas de alumnos. Su tropiezo fue estrepitoso, y estuvo a punto de caer de cabeza contra el suelo, pero en el último momento, mientras veía casi a cámara lenta su inevitable caída, algo (alguien) la asió fuertemente por la cintura.

– ¡Epa! ¡Deberías andar con más cuidado, la próxima vez puede que no esté aquí para sostenerte! – dijo una voz risueña y cálida.

No podía creer lo que veía. De pie frente a ella, con el cabello castaño algo revuelto y casualmente vestido con aquella elegancia que lo caracterizaba, estaba Juan. De todas las personas que podrían haber presenciado su ridícula entrada en la universidad tenía que ser precisamente él quien se encontrase no solo en primera fila, sino quien la rescatase de hacer un ridículo todavía mayor.

Apenas se había recompuesto y ya notaba el rubor subiendo por sus mejillas, intensificado aún más cuando se encontró con sus ojos a apenas unos centímetros de su cara, tras aquellas gafas de montura metálica que tan bien le quedaban. Azoradísima, tartamudeó un apenas inteligible "g-gracias, n-no, no volverá a pasar, gracias lo siento" y salió corriendo.

Si se hubiese detenido, si se hubiese girado, habría visto a un confusísimo Juan, que, plantado aún en la puerta, era esquivado por los apresurados estudiantes que salían de clase.

--------

Al menos aún tenía tiempo de sobra para recobrar la compostura. En el servicio, comprobó que su cabello cobrizo estaba completamente alborotado y sus mofletes seguían sonrojados.

"Felicidades, Y/N, ahora sí sabe quién eres: la chica más ridícula que ha visto en su vida".

Abandonando toda esperanza de iniciar en un futuro cercano algún acercamiento al chico de sus sueños, se dirigió a su módulo para esperar a que comenzase la clase.

Sentada junto al radiador, cuya función era prácticamente simbólica, volvió a abrir Tuiter por vigésima vez aquel día. Su timeline estaba plagada de tuits con la discusión del día, algo relacionado con criptomonedas que no podía resultarle más ridículo. De pronto, una de las molestas sugerencias basadas en los "Me gusta" de sus mutuals apareció en pantalla:

" 🤍 @Clara_navideña indicó que le gusta".

Conocía a la perfección el user. Aunque no lo seguía por vergüenza, a menudo entraba, no sin sentirse ridículamente culpable, a leer sus ingeniosas contribuciones al caos diario de la red social.

Le dio un vuelco al leer el texto del tuit. @juanchutre escribía:

"Una chica se ha apresurado a sujetarme la puerta para que saliera antes de entrar ella

Al entrar se ha tropezado y casi se cae de boca

Elijo pensar que no ha sido el escalón, simplemente se puso nerviosa por mi arrolladora y cautivadora energía"

No pudo contener una sonrisa. ¿Qué quería decir aquello? ¿Qué debía hacer ella ahora? No podía dar me gusta justo a ese tuit, sería demasiado descarado. Lo guardó y, solo por si acaso la red social que ocupaba horas de su rutina diaria llegase a desaparecer, también realizó una captura de pantalla.

Le parecía una locura y se sentía ridícula, pero aún así pensó que quizás el próximo lunes podría acercársele bajo el pretexto de disculparse por su huida tan apresurada y para agradecerle por haber evitado que hiciese un ridículo mayor. No parecía del todo descabellado.

"Ey,¡ qué pronto has llegado! ¿Pasamos dentro? " Clara había aparecido a su lado. Comprobó la hora: ya eran y media. Entró a clase, pero su cabeza estaba en otro lugar, en un vagón de tren que se alejaba hacia el centro de la ciudad, con un chico que viajaba inmerso en algún ensayo sobre algún país del Golfo.

[enihk-writes]

[thunder bolts in a clear sky]

cross-posted on AO3 (hiatus there until further notice)

pairing: mhdd!chung myung x afab!she/her!reader (undecided)

OC x afab!she/her!reader (doomed yuri) mhdd!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader (queer-platonic attraction that's not inherently sexual or romantic and not fully platonic either, reader is going to end up being very aroace if that's not how you roll then... sorry i guess...)

plot overview: reader is a person from an unspecified distant future, reincarnated into the current mount hua timeline after facing execution for multiple low-level crimes among other false accusations. the chapters will switch between her current timeline and ones which will delve into her past — introducing the world she came from and the people she knew in more depth.

will be attempting to explore the difference in philosophies between reader and chung myung — nihilism in that nothing you do will ever matter vs chung myung who strives to create a better future that he might not even have a chance to see. reader who can connect with people around her vs chung myung who has trouble opening up and trusting others with his burdens... among other topics i.e. reader's feeling of alienation in both lives as someone who physically does not look like she belongs in this community

content warning: canon-typical violence // blood and violence // gore // body horror // execution // torture // emotional manipulation // implied and referenced child abuse // grooming // child soldiers // post-traumatic stress disorder - ptsd // unhealthy coping mechanisms // war crimes // government experimentation // government conspiracy // government agencies // disability // flawed justice system // other additional tags to be added + tags may change

[WILL WRITE A DISCLAIMER AND CONTENT WARNING ON EACH CHAPTER THAT DISCUSSES ANY OF THE ABOVE TOPICS]

❀ chapters ❀

any discussions or mentions of the topics disclosed in the content warnings will be marked at the end of the chapter titles with a [*]

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[hollyoongs]

I can't feel my face when I'm with you But I love it, but I love it, oh. (the weeknd - can't feel my face)

ᨓ 。lee heeseung x fem reader ꒰🎂꒱﹕pure smut with little plot ﹕tbc

contains: mean dom!heeseung, sexting (brief moment and a mention of it later, reader is in bold and Heeseung in italic), oral (both), p in v sex (reader is on the pill but wrap it before you tap it), use of sexual toys (anal butt plug, dildo and vibrator), anal, squirting (Hee just loves it), lots ass spanking, multiple orgasms, petnames (cockslut, bitch, cumslut and more), choking, deepthroath, dick slapping, cum eating, voice audio recording, double penetration, daddy kink and let me know if I missed anything. ┈─★

synopsis: Heeseung just wanted to get his face numb between your thights and show you some manners after sending him a picture of what he will get when he arrives to your place.

Today marked a significant milestone for you, six other guys, and millions of fans. Heeseung was turning the so afraid 23 years old, and everyone was planning something for your boyfriend, including you. You'd helped the staff set up his Weverse live, and a small after-party would follow at the building afterward.

But you had your own surprise waiting at home. After six long months apart, not seeing or touching each other had been pure torture. The moment Heeseung landed back in Korea, all you wanted was to run into his arms, but the staff had kept you apart, saving the reunion for later. It was hell—a living one.

Still, that didn't stop you from teasing him.

You took advantage of him not seeing you at all while helping the staff, sneaking around corners and staying hidden as he tried to find you. After everything was ready, you quickly left, thanking the staff and leaving a small gift with a note saying it was from you, but the packaging of it was screaming it was you in a subtle way you and him knew.

You arrived home, letting yourself relax before decorating your bedroom. You had everything planned, and it had to be perfect, from start to finish. Your phone vibrated three times, pulling you from your thoughts. A smile spread across your lips when Heeseung’s name lit up your screen.

"I saw what you did to the office and the lobby, I’m so lucky to be yours."

"I love you, baby, thank you."

"I’m going to start my live, I missed you so much. Hope you can watch it, love."

With a smirk, you turned on your tablet and went straight to the app, catching the live just as it started. There he was, looking as handsome as ever, greeting his fans with that soft voice you’d missed so much. It was the time to start the plan, and you knew you would get in trouble, but everything had a purpose, and it was a small payback of what he used to do when you were at your university having classes. Your playful side was screaming. You had been apart for too long, and now it was time to make things interesting.

Leaning back on your couch, you slowly took off your shirt, leaving yourself in just your black bra. You snapped a picture of yourself lounging, the tablet resting on your chest like you were hugging him.

"Anything for my birthday boy. Looking good, baby."

Without giving yourself time to second-guess it, you hit send, your heart racing. Sure, you have taken suggestive pictures of yourself, but it was your first time sending a nude to your boyfriend. You watched the live as the message appeared on his phone. His eyes widened for a split second, a slight pause in his speech before a smirk curled on his lips.

“Wow, ENGENE are arriving fast to the live. We’ll start in a few minutes,” he said, glancing down at the cake in front of him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Your phone buzzed again, and you already knew who it was.

"Honey, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Giving you small preview of my birthday surprise."

"Angel, don't do it."

"I will, baby. P.S: Hope you like my gift (say it comes from one of the members.)"

You saw the screen where the live can be watched, and you saw how he moved in his chair.

“Okay, okay, let’s get started,” he said, his voice smooth as he addressed the fans. “We’ve got a lot planned for today, so thank you for tuning in." then the live continued smoothly; you even saw yourself being captivated by how he interacted with fans. You decide to let him breathe for a moment to continue with the decoration. Rose petals were laying on the bed and floor. You positioned some unlit candles around the room, and now you were looking for your Victoria Secret robe, on that Heeseung bought for your birthday with some lingerie.

"Now, I would like to open the gifts from my members," you could hear in the distance, and you left everything to go watch again. He was opening all the boxes until he came to yours, a big box wrapped with golden paper that had a sign that said "careful.". "This is from Jake."

Heeseung’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as he pulled the new gaming equipment from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the gear he’d been wanting for months. He chuckled softly, looking down at the hidden post-it note that only he could see. His heart swelled with warmth, knowing just how much thought and effort you’d put into this gift. It wasn’t just the equipment itself but the fact that you understood him, knew exactly what he wanted, and worked so hard to get it for him.

“This is amazing, Jake,” he said, laughing as he played along with the cover story. “You really outdid yourself. I’m going to use this every chance I get.” He flashed his signature playful grin toward the camera, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking about you—the person behind the gift, the person who always knew how to make him feel special.

Your heart is fluttering at his reaction. You knew Heeseung well enough to catch the subtle emotions behind all of his smiles. He was touched, and even though he couldn’t say it out loud during the live, you felt the connection between you two stronger than ever.

"You liked it, baby?"

Heeseung’s phone buzzed again, and though he was still live, he discreetly glanced at it while the camera focused on the other gifts. He quickly grabbed his phone, excusing himself to the viewers, saying it was his brother texting him while being live.

"I love it. But I love you more."

Your heart skipped a beat as you read his message. Heeseung will always find a way to make you feel like you were the only one who mattered. You smirked, fingers moving fast on the keyboard.

"You better. There’s more where that came from, but it’s waiting for you here."

"I can’t wait, angel. What else do you have planned?"

You then decided to be a little more suggestive; you ran to your closet, a hidden box you had for your little toys that you used when Heeseung was gone. You put the dildo in the middle of your breasts, still covered with the bra, and your tongue sticks out in an action to lick the tip of it. You snapped a picture and pressed "Send" after checking it.

"What do you think? Everything for my birthday boy."

You looked back to the screen, and you let out a chuckle. This time, his eyes went wide; he was trying so hard to not send everything to hell and ran to fuck the living hell out of you; you just knew it. He suspended his phone and saw the staff's hand being extended, giving his phone to the staff, but Heeseung looked at the camera, his eyes looking deeply at the camera and keeping up with the live.

The moment the staff took his phone, you grinned to yourself. Heeseung couldn’t respond, but you didn’t need his words to know what was going through his mind. You’d pushed him to the edge, and now all that was left was to wait for him to come to you.

Your heart raced as you watched Heeseung struggle to maintain his composure. He was barely holding it together, and you knew that once he was free from the live and the afterparty, he’d be all yours.

You returned to your preparations, adding the final touches to your room. The soft flicker of candlelight cast a warm glow over the rose petals that trailed from the doorway to the bed. You adjusted the sheer Victoria’s Secret robe on your body that Heeseung had bought you, making sure it hung perfectly over your shoulders, revealing just enough of the navy blue lace lingerie underneath. Your body hummed with excitement, counting every minute that passed by.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t a message—it was a notification that Heeseung had wrapped up his life. You smiled, knowing that meant he’d be heading to the afterparty soon.

"Have fun at the afterparty, baby. Don’t keep me waiting too long."

Heeseung didn’t have his phone, so you didn’t expect a response, but you knew the moment he was able to check his messages, he’d see it. You paced around your room; you wanted everything to be perfect, despite the fact that you two will forget everything after falling into the bed sheets.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, your heart pounding louder with each passing moment, and, you had to admit, your mind was creating several scenarios, making your entrance wet. You could feel how your pants were sticking and how your body temperature got higher, like you were having a fever.

Your fingers barely grazed your entrance, but the heat radiating from your core made your knees weak. The moan that slipped from your lips was soft at first, but the sensation was too overwhelming to contain. You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you pressed your fingers harder against the soaked fabric of your pants, trying to relieve some of the pressure building inside you.

You couldn’t help but picture Heeseung’s hands on you instead, his lips trailing over your skin as he took control of your body, just like he always did. The mere thought of it was enough for you to make you smile in delight. Your breathing became shallow as you pushed your pants aside, your fingers slipping easily through your wet folds. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, and another moan escaped you, louder this time.

Your head fell back as you teased yourself, your mind lost in fantasies of what Heeseung would do when he finally got his hands on you. Your hips bucked against your fingers, desperate for more, but no matter how much you tried, it wasn’t enough. Only Heeseung could make you feel the way you needed.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door of your apartment. Your breath caught in your throat, and you straightened up, adjusting your robe and pants one last time as the doorknob turned.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing Heeseung standing in the doorway, his sharp features illuminated by the soft candlelight. As you got closer, you could see his eyes with a layer of desire, locking onto you immediately. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a controlled force that made your heart race. His posture was tense, his jaw clenched, and there was something dangerous in his gaze—and you were so ready for it, for him.

"Angel," he muttered, his voice low and dripping with authority as he took a step toward you, removing his coat in the process. His eyes roamed over your figure, taking in every inch of your exposed skin under the lace lingerie and sheer robe. "Fuck, you look like a dream."

Heeseung's intense gaze never left you as he stepped closer, tossing his coat onto a chair without a second thought. His presence was overwhelming to the point that you could even feel it a mile away. Your heart was pounding in your chest as his eyes devoured you, lingering on your barely concealed skin.

His hand wrapped tightly around your waist as he yanked you close, making you gasp and your tremble a little with your balance, which made you put your hands on his shoulders. His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

"You almost get me in trouble," he whispered, his voice dark and commanding. "Sending me those pictures while I was in front of millions… What was your intention on it?"

His hand moved up to your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. You could feel the power he held over you in that moment, and that made you smile.

“I hope you’re ready to pay for that,” he murmured, his tone darkening as his grip tightened. “Think you can play games with me? Let's see if you can handle the consequences.”

Before you could even react, Heeseung’s lips collided with yours in a heated, bruising kiss that made your knees weak. His grip on your thighs tightened as he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the wall. Your head was spinning, and you could feel your body buzzing with his touch.

His tongue dominated yours, the kiss desperate and filled with the frustration of the time you had spent apart. His hands gripped your ass tightly as he carried you effortlessly into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He separated from the kiss and saw all the decoration that was happening in the bedroom.

Heeseung’s eyes flickered as he took in the soft glow of the candles and the delicate trail of rose petals leading to the bed and some other things you put. His grip on your waist tightened, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he looked around the room and then back at you.

"You went all out for me, didn’t you?" His voice was low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. "Thought you could butter me up after teasing me all day?"

His eyes darkened with lust as he leaned down, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. "Too bad it won’t save you from what’s coming, baby."

Before you could respond, he spun you around, pressing you against the wall once again. His body pressed against yours, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he whispered, "You want to know if I like it? I love it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you."

He pushed you back against the bed, his hand gripping your wrist as he held you down, his other hand sliding the sheer robe off your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie underneath. He hovered above you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"So pretty for me," he growled, his fingers tracing along the lace, teasingly close but never touching you where you needed him most. "And so needy, did you really miss me that much?."

His grip tightened on your wrist as his other hand finally slipped beneath the lace, his fingers brushing against your heated skin. But instead of giving you what you wanted, he pulled back, making you whimper in frustration. Heeseung smirked, clearly enjoying how worked up you were already.

"Heeseung, please." You plead, and he just smiled.

"You don’t get to make demands, angel. Not after what you pulled today," he said, his voice dripping with authority. "You’re going to take what I give you. Do you understand?"

You nodded, your body trembling and your entrance getting wetter by the second, but that wasn’t enough for him. His hand tightened around your wrist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Use your words."

"Yes," you stammered, barely able to breathe under the weight of his dominance.

"Good girl." Heeseung’s smirk widened as he released your wrist, trailing his hand down your body, making you shiver under his touch. "Now, let’s see how well you behave when I’m done with you."

What followed was a blur of sensations—his hands on your body, his lips claiming yours, and the overwhelming intensity of his dominance—that dominance you missed so badly.

His lips and yours collided in a passionate dance, humming at the sensation of finally, after months, being this close was like touching heaven yourself. With his hands, he ripped the clothing you had, more specifically, your pants, making you gasp as his hot breath made contact with your cunt.

Heeseung barely gave you a moment to catch your breath before diving back in, his tongue lapping at your soaked folds as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your thighs shook uncontrollably because of the sudden movement; your body was already overwhelmed, but he showed no signs of stopping. Heeseung groaned into you, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as he worked you over with relentless precision.

Heeseung was out of his mind; he missed you so bad that he wouldn't mind not feeling his face afterwards if the reason behind it were your sweet thighs on each side of his face suffocating him and shaking with the beautiful background music of your loud moans asking for mercy, but he loves it.

“Fuck, Heeseung, please,” you gasped, your voice already hoarse from screaming his name. You tugged at his hair, desperate for a break, but he only grinned against your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

He sucked hard on your swollen clit, his tongue swirling and flicking with expert skill as he knew your body completely; your whole body convulsed in response. You were shaking, crying out his name over and over as pleasure rippled through you in waves, each one more intense than the last. Your vision blurred, the world spinning as you lost yourself completely to the sensations he was pulling from your body.

“Heeseung, I—fuck!” Your words broke off in a scream as another orgasm tore through you, your body arching off the bed as you gripped the sheets like a lifeline. You were so sorry for the neighbors, but God, he was doing such a good job. Heeseung groaned in satisfaction, his tongue working you through it as you trembled and bucked uncontrollably, the tip of his nose sometimes touching your swollen clit.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Scream for me, baby. Let them hear how good I make you feel.”

You were barely coherent, your body reduced to a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him. Heeseung’s fingers dug into your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted as he devoured you like a man starved. The pressure was too much, the pleasure too intense, but all you could do was moan and beg, your voice cracking with each desperate plea.

“Heeseung, please,” you cried out, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of another release. “I can’t—I can’t take it.”

Heeseung pulled back just enough to flash you a wicked grin while his fingers started to go inside you, his lips glistening with your arousal as he moved his fingers fast, touching your sweet spots that made you roll your eyes. “Oh, you’ll take it, angel. You’ll take everything I give you.”

Before you could protest, he dove back in, his tongue fucking you relentlessly as his thumb pressed against your clit, sending a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. You screamed his name louder than ever before, your body convulsing as yet another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Heeseung finally pulled away, his face drenched, but his smirk was pure satisfaction. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you struggle to catch your breath. He took the back of your head to kiss you again, rough and passionate; you were so into the kiss that you didn't feel his hand going back to your entrance, making you cry.

He began to enter his fingers inside you, a particular motion making you shut your eyes and legs, but Heeseung wasn't about to let you close yourself off from him. With a low chuckle, he used his free hand to pry your thighs back open, his eyes dark and filled with pure, unrelenting desire.

"Don’t hide from me, angel. I want to see every reaction I pull out of you," he whispered against your lips. His voice had authority in it that was very clear, and it was your first time hearing this voice in him. He moved his fingers with a torturous rhythm, curling and pressing exactly where he knew it would drive you over the edge again, for the third time.

Your body responded helplessly, hips bucking as his fingers plunged deeper, reaching that sensitive spot that left you seeing stars. You gasped, clinging to him as the pressure built unbearably, your body tensing with the inevitable release he was forcing from you.

“Hee—Heeseung, please,” you begged, your voice choked with pleasure, your hands grasping at his shoulders, nails digging in as you felt yourself unraveling, but he didn’t let up. He drove his fingers faster, his thumb finding your swollen, sensitive clit again, rubbing with expert precision that had your thighs trembling.

His eyes were locked on you, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure and the way your body arched and quivered beneath him.

You shattered, your body convulsing around his fingers as a wave of intense pleasure overtook you, leaving you completely undone. Your release spilled over as Heeseung coaxed every last tremor from you, his hands still working you through it; half of his still-dressed arm was wet with your squirt. He once again put his mouth on your clit, and that when you lose it.

Heeseung moaned against you, his deep, satisfied groan vibrating through your core as he eagerly lapped up every bit of your release. His mouth never stopped moving, his tongue swirling and flicking over your overly sensitive clit, creating another wave of pleasure out of you even as your body trembled and twitched from the intensity.

Your breaths came out in ragged pants as you lay there, boneless and thoroughly spent, Heeseung’s satisfied grin hovering above you, his fingers going to your mouth.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened as you parted your lips, welcoming his fingers into your mouth. He pressed them gently onto your tongue, a soft, possessive smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched you. "Taste yourself for me, angel," he murmured, each word dripping with satisfaction and a hint of pride.

You closed your lips around his fingers, tasting your own sweetness, the heat in his gaze intensifying as you obediently sucked, swirling your tongue over his fingertips. His free hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles, contrasting the intensity of everything that had just happened.

"That’s my girl," he murmured. You lost count of how many orgasms your boyfriend gave you with his mouth only, but you honestly didn't care. He unbuttoned his pants to take his dick out of his underwear. You licked your lips, seeing how his dick stood tall and proud, leaking cum only to the sight of you at his mercy was making you feel everything despite getting "punished.".

Heeseung let out a low chuckle as he noticed the way your eyes trailed his whole length. “Go to the floor, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Return the favor.”

You did as he said, legs shaking, but your will to give him was bigger. His fingers trailed down to your chin once on the floor, lifting your gaze to meet his—that familiar spark of challenge in his eyes. He leaned back, positioning himself as he stroked his length, waiting for you to take him in. You crawled forward, feeling the anticipation build as he held himself steady, guiding you closer. With his dick, he slapped your cheeks and mouth, making you open it again.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around him, savoring the taste of him as you took him deeper, inch by inch, until his tip hit the back of your throat. He let out a sharp groan, his hand weaving into your hair to gently guide your movements, his hips subtly rocking in time with your rhythm.

“Look at you, angel,” he breathed out, his voice filled with admiration and heat. “Taking me so well. You have no idea how good you look like this.” He tightened his grip on your hair, encouraging you to go deeper, his breath hitching every time you swallowed around him.

Your view started to get glossy; you weren't holding back the moans each time he thrust into your mouth; your hands went to his teeth to keep your balance, but he separated them out, making you whine.

“Missed your pretty mouth; always do wonders,” he groaned, his head tilting back as you moved in perfect rhythm, pulling every reaction from him that you could.

As you worked him, his hips started to rock a little harder, his groans turning into soft, filthy praises. “That’s it, baby. Take all of me—let me feel that pretty throat,” he rasped, gripping your hair tighter as he lost himself in the sensation. "Hands behind your back."

You did as he told you, hands behind you like you were cuffed, his palm firm at the back of your head, starting a slow pace. You could see how his legs got slightly shaky, but he was holding it; he was trying to prolongue as much as possible to cum right there.

Heeseung’s breathing grew ragged, his gaze darkening as he watched you obediently with your hands behind your back, looking up at him with those pleading eyes. “Just like that,” he murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he thrust deeper, testing your limits. His hands gripped your hair even tighter, keeping you in place as he began to lose his restraint, his control slipping.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back momentarily. “You’re taking it so well, baby. Can feel you fighting to keep that throat open for me,” he continued, a wicked smile appearing on his lips as he watched you try to keep your composure. “Messy for me… so eager.”

Heeseung’s hips snapped forward harder, filling your throat as he watched you struggle to take him fully. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back slightly before driving himself deeper, testing just how much you could take.

“Come on, choke on me, drool, make a mess of that pretty mouth.” The thrill in his tone sent a shiver down your spine as you felt yourself giving in, the sounds coming from you louder, wetter. Every time he hit the back of your throat, a needy, guttural whimper escaped, pushing him even closer to the edge due to the vibrations your moans were giving to all of his dick.

“God, you look wrecked,” he groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction as he thrust even harder, holding you in place. “Exactly how I like you. You’re taking all of me so perfectly. Such a good fucking whore.”

You had tears running down to your face; he let your mouth free, making you gasp for air. Your sore throat was worth it seeing your boyfriend sitting in bed due to his weak legs, pumping his length so fast with his eyes fully shut in pleasure.

You got near him, your mouth open and eyes shut, knowing what's about to come. You felt cum shots splashing on your face and tongue.

He groaned, the sounds rough and guttural as he emptied himself over your lips, cheeks, and tongue, each pulse driving him deeper into his heart. Your face was a mess, and you didn’t even care—every drop felt like a victory, a sign of how completely you’d unraveled him.

“God, what a view,” he panted, chest heaving as he took in the sight of you covered in him, lips parted, breath coming in shallow gasps.

You slowly wiped a finger across your cheek, gathering some of his release before slipping it between your lips, never breaking eye contact. The heat in his gaze reignited, and he reached for you, pulling you onto his lap, his fingers tangling into your hair as he leaned in close.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, his voice dark and dripping with lust. His mouth claimed yours hungrily, tasting the remnants of himself on your lips, his hands sliding possessively down your back as he guided you into his lap, feeling you warm and ready against him.

“Think you can handle more?” You nodded eagerly. He already made you see the stars with his mouth and fingers, but his dick was the one you were waiting for. You needed him.

He left you laid on the bed covered in a few rose petals as he went to the box he loved to open every once in a while in your closet. He went again to the bed, opening the box and surprising himself with something in it, taking it in his hands with some ideas running through his mind.

"Mind you to tell me what's this?" He held up the object, and you smiled.

"I decided to be lazy for Halloween and be the female version of that character," you answered, and he dropped it to the bed. He started to strip all of his clothes on. Eyes on you as usual, but you can see something in his eyes, mischieve. "Why the question?"

"Because you won't need it anymore," he said, finally revealing all his naked body, his length slowly getting worked up again as you opened your legs, your inner thoughts sticky.

"Why?"

"Because I'm using it to fuck you." Your mouth left a moan as he put on the ghostface mask, his hand gripping his length, pumping it once again. He looked at the box, looking for something specific. He showed it up to you—the pink anal plug.

Your cheeks flushed as he held the plug between his fingers, eyes gleaming darkly from behind the mask. He looked every bit the sinful predator he was tonight, and you felt a rush of excitement course through you at the thought of him taking control so completely.

“On your knees,” he ordered, his voice muffled by the mask, but the command in his tone was unmistakable. You complied, heart racing as you turned and positioned yourself, head down, hips raised, feeling the cool air against your skin. The anticipation was electric, each second stretching longer as you heard him move behind you, the rustle of the rose petals intensifying your awareness.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your neck even through the mask, and you felt his hands glide down your body, his fingers brushing over every curve as he spread your cheeks, admiring the sight. He teased you, letting the blunt end of the plug trace along your sensitive skin, a reminder of what he had planned.

"Such a good girl," he murmured. You felt him spitting into your hole and later adding a decent amount of lube to it.

You shivered at the feel of the cool lube and the heat of his breath as he worked his fingers around the sensitive ring of muscle, loosening you slowly with practiced ease. Each press, each teasing circle, sent a shiver up your spine as he prepared you, letting his fingers slide in just enough to make you gasp and arch back, craving more.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he growled, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm under his touch. “So tight I'm going crazy."

With his other hand, he rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, collecting your wetness. He pressed in just slightly, just enough to make you whimper, before he pulled back, laughing lowly as he saw the desperate look in your eyes. Then, with one hand still gripping the plug, he pushed it in slowly, inch by inch, his other hand splaying across your back to hold you down firmly.

You moaned, feeling the stretch as he settled the plug deep inside you, leaving you open, vulnerable, and aching for him. The fullness was dizzying, and your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction and making you clench around nothing.

“Stay still,” he ordered, voice harsh through the mask as he smacked your ass hard, the sting only adding to your arousal. He took a moment to admire his handiwork before diving again to the box. He smiled behind the mask when he found that pink, lush, remote-controlled vibrator.

He stood up to take both your and his phone. With your phone, he quickly set up the vibrator, and with his, he opened his voice note app, hitting record and putting it right next to you.

He gave more spanks to your ass, which let your moans out and shut your eyes in delight.

"Baby, do you want to remind yourself what have you done?" The mask made his voice sound haunting, sending a thrill through you down your spine.

"I sexted you while you were on a Weverse live today." Heeseung started to align the vibrator, the tip of it pressing firmly against your second entrance.

“You don't even deserve to be like this, but I love how you're so obedient.” His voice was almost a growl as he began to slide it inside, filling you completely. You gasped when you felt his hand going around your neck, putting a slight preassure on it, lifting you to only be on your knees. You could only see his mask, but you didn't have to know the face he had, a pure bliss one.

"Are you going to be good for me?" you nodded.

"Yes…"

"Yes, what?" You smirked a little at the question.

"Yes, daddy." The vibrator inside you started abruptly, and you went back to your initial position, sitting on your pillow with the phone next to you and your ass all up for him to see your wet entrance.

A low chuckle escaped him as he watched your body react to the sudden vibrations, hips grinding involuntarily as the toy buzzed deep inside you. He tightened his grip on your waist, steadying you, enjoying how you squirmed under his touch.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement and lust. “You’re already shaking, and I’ve barely started.”

He leaned down, his gloved hands sliding up your sides as he brought his mouth close to your ear. “You really think you deserve my cock after teasing me like that?” His fingers grazed along your neck, applying just enough pressure to send a shiver through you, his grip both possessive and thrilling.

You gasped, the vibrations intensifying inside you, making you clench and arch back against him, desperate for more of his touch. His free hand moved down to stroke his length slowly, making sure you could hear every sound of him.

He eased the vibrator up to its highest setting, chuckling darkly as your moans filled the room. With his other hand still recording, he whispered, “Keep making those sounds, baby. I want a reminder of how needy you get for me.” His fingers traced along your jaw, forcing you to look forward as he positioned himself right behind you, letting the head of his cock press teasingly at your entrance, brushing back and forth.

“Are you ready to be filled completely?” he asked, his voice a seductive growl, every word dripping with the promise of complete control.

“Yes! Daddy, please,” you whimpered, barely able to hold yourself steady.

Without another word, he took the vibrator and pushed himself into you, the stretch overwhelming as he filled you inch by inch.

With a final thrust, he filled you completely, making you cry out as he began to move, each thrust driving you higher, deeper, until your moans filled the room and he was lost in the feeling of you clenched tight around him.

“That’s it, baby. Take everything. You wanted this,” he groaned, his voice heavy and possessive, each word sending another surge of desire through you as he claimed you completely, the mask hiding his face but not the intensity behind every movement.

His fingers grazed along your neck, tightening it on your neck, pulling you back just enough so he could whisper in your ear, “You wanted to act up, didn’t you, baby? Teasing me like that in front of everyone, knowing I’d have to punish you.”

Your breath hitched, his words sending a thrill through you. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whimpered, though you could barely hold back a smirk, loving the way he was taking control.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, princess,” he growled, his grip firm as he forced your hips down onto him with each deep thrust, his cock filling you completely. “You’re going to remember tonight every time you sit down. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, the words slipping from your lips as his hand slid down your body, gripping your waist firmly, holding you in place as he drove into you mercilessly. All of you were on fire, overwhelmed with sensation.

“Such a cockslut,” he continued as he picked up the pace. “Such a needy little thing, so desperate for Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I need it,” you gasped, unable to contain the need in your voice as he filled you over and over, your body melting under his rough touch. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you exactly where he wanted, and you loved every second of it.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice softer but no less intense as he watched you. “Daddy loves seeing you like this, all spread out and taking me so well.”

You could only moan in response, the words driving you closer to the edge. He pulled back briefly, watching you tremble, and then slapped your ass hard, making you gasp as the sting mixed deliciously with the pleasure.

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he commanded, his voice a dangerous whisper. He took the plug and exchanged it with the vibrator, turning it up even higher, the relentless buzzing driving you wild to the point you were seeing stars. “Beg Daddy to fill you up.”

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, every nerve alight as you pressed back against him, desperate for more. “Please, I need you to fill me up. I need you to own this pussy.”

A wicked grin spread across his face as he heard your desperate pleas. “That’s my cumslut,” he said, finally slamming into you with full force, his rhythm relentless as he gave you everything you’d been begging for.

And as his thrusts grew rougher, your body trembling under him, his grip on your hips tightened even further, his voice a low, satisfied growl. “This is what you get when you tease Daddy, baby. Don’t ever forget it.”

"Fuck, yes! Harder, Mr. Ghostface."

The sound of your new nickname for him seemed to ignite something even darker in Heeseung. His grip on your hips tightened as he slammed into you with renewed intensity, each thrust harder and deeper, his breaths ragged behind the mask.

“Oh, you like calling me that, huh?” he growled. “Calling for Mr. Ghostface to ruin you.” He punctuated his words with a sharp slap to your ass, making you gasp and arch back against him, your skin tingling from the sting.

He slid his hand down, gripping your throat as he held you still, his other hand pressing the vibrator firmly into you.

“You’re Daddy’s little slut, aren’t you?” He murmured, his voice laced with approval and lust as he kept up his punishing rhythm. “Answer, princess.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m yours,” you whimpered, the words tumbling from your lips as he drove you higher, your body at his mercy. He stopped for a second to look for a particular diddle.

Knowing what's about to happen, you fully lay on the bed. You extend your arm to catch the forgotten lube and put it again all over your entrance and on Heeseung's length. He slowly took out the vibrator from there to enter his dick, a groan leaving your mouth in a cry as he touched your sweet spot again.

He gave you the dildo, "Fuck yourself with it."

You put the dildo where his dick was before, and it slipped so easily, yet you were tight looking at the mask. But even when his whole face was covered, the piercing stare could be felt miles away.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened as he watched you obey through the mask, his breaths heavy and controlled, each one fueling the intensity between you. "Such a good little slut for Daddy," he rasped, his voice muffled but dripping with authority as his gaze raked over you. The way you filled yourself with the dildo had him throbbing, barely holding back as he watched you move it in and out, slick and needy under his command.

He reached down, his hands caressing your thighs before gripping them firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance again, the dildo still moving inside you. He leaned close, his masked face inches from yours as he spoke, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Keep going, baby. Show Mr. Ghostface just how desperate you are.”

With each thrust of both, the dildo on your cunt and his dick on your other hole, you whimpered, your body arching into him, lost in the pleasure of following his every instruction.

"Fuck! Daddy!" you screamed, tears slipping again to your cheeks bc of the pleasure, you could feel yourself drooling as you were getting fucked numb.

“That’s it, princess,” he murmured, voice full of pride and possessiveness. “Take it nice and deep. Show Daddy just how much you can handle.”

Your pace quickened, moans spilling from your lips as you met each thrust with the toy, the fullness of it making you feel more needy, the stretch and rhythm heightening every nerve in your body. The feeling of him filling you completely and the toy thrusting within you was overwhelming, and you were losing yourself in the pleasure of it all.

He leaned in close, pressing his lips to your ear, his voice dark and possessive. “Such a good little bitch, taking it so well,” he growled, each word sending shivers down your spine. “You love being Daddy’s toy, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you managed to breathe out, your words laced with need as you moved in perfect rhythm, every thrust driving you closer to the edge. “I love it... I love being yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised, tightening his grip just enough to make your heart race. “Now, keep going. I want you to cum with me inside you, and I want you to feel every single second of it.”

The intensity of his words drove you wild that you felt yourself spiraling over the edge, your entire body trembling as you squirt, his name spilling from your lips in a broken cry. Heeseung followed soon after, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep, his groans blending with your own sounds of pleasure.

When he finally released his hold on you, he leaned back, admiring the sight of you—breathless, trembling, and entirely his as he was entirely yours.

He took the mask off still burried inside you, his hair got messed up, his eyes were so glossy of lust and his face was red, he threw away the mask, starting a new slow pace. He took both of your legs to put them over his shoulders, both of your moans combining at the feeling of overstimulation.

"Open that pretty mouth for me." you did as he said, his spit landing on your tongue as you swallow it, "You're the best gift I've ever had, God."

"Happy birthday, Daddy." your back arched as his pace got faster and it didn't take long to give him another squirt, this time bigger as your throat hurting from how much you let him know how good he made you feel. He left your inside to have his face between your legs once again, taking again all of the squirt mixed with his cum, hugging your legs in the process to not make you move anywhere.

Both decided to end the night when he let his face burry in between your breasts, catching his breathe along with you. One of your hands went straight to his hair to brush some strings of hair that were attached to his forehead due to the sweat and the other stop the voice note.

"Did you like your birthday night?" you said, and Heeseung laughed, knowing how both of you wouldn't be able to even wake up for the next day.

"It was perfect," he replied, his voice still a bit husky from the night’s activities. He left your body to lie next to you, both of you facing each other. "We should clean the bed and sleep on the inflatable bed you have; we’ve definitely… uh, made a bit of a mess."

"We must, but... fuck, we just had sex like bunnies," you panted, and he laughed once again, this time, you joined in.

Heeseung’s laughter was infectious, filling the room with warmth and lightness “At least we’re not the only ones who are tired,” he said, glancing at the crumpled sheets. “This bed is definitely in need of some TLC.”

"Get lost Heeseung." you said, unable to stop your laugh, he quickly gave you a kiss, smilling at how suddenly you got quiet and your cheeks got red.

"I'm so grateful for this 23rd birthday. Thank you for making it so… unforgettable. And I'm so sorry for all the months I left you alone, I'll make it up for you." you kissed him after he finished it.

"Honey, you're a singer, and when we got into the relationship, we knew it was going to be hard," you replied softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “But I wouldn’t change a thing. Moments like this make it all worth it.”

Heeseung smiled, his eyes warm and sincere. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you said, your heart swelling with affection. “I’ve always believed in us, and I know we can get through anything together.”

He nodded, pulling you closer as if to emphasize your bond. “You’re my everything, you know? I don’t want to take you for granted again.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and promise reflected back at you. “And I don’t want you to feel guilty for the past."

"I will never stop loving you, baby."

"Me neither"

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @kwiwin @hees-love @taeghi @glitterjay @caratstick @hvseung @hxxsxxng @jungwonmeover @awqken @021894s @intromortal @heeslomll @rikiluvbot @alvojake @ja3yun @jakeflvrz (adding some of my moots, but lmk if you want to be removed or add to the permanent taglist ♡)

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: Happy belate birthday to my boy Heeseung and happy late halloween for all of you too, slowly making a comeback! SCREAM fans don't come after me pls, this is different :3 (leaving this quick edit i did of Heeseung Ghostface as a peace offering) 🦋

[majinbangus]

the guard dog masterlist soap x reader x guard dog!ghost you wanted a dog...

the compromise

lap dog

bath

watching

basic commands

collar tug

good ol' boy

doghouse

punishments

how it happened

a little treat

'buying everything my dog touches'

shower

tbc...

-

im weak, im making another masterlist, but i have thoughts about this...

[thetargsimp]

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

TOM YOU JUST JINXED IT TAKE IT BACK BEFORE OUR AUTHOR HERE GETS ANY FUNNY IDEAS

chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call. 

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory. 

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity. 

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters. 

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me. 

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides. 

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet. 

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind. 

This is enough, even for now. 

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter. 

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat. 

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm. 

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus. 

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side. 

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour. 

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt. 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating. 

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later. 

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear. 

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy. 

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between. 

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t. 

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest. 

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home. 

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes. 

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place. 

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire. 

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected. 

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former. 

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively. 

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look. 

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line. 

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied. 

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you. 

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you. 

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all. 

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ” 

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief. 

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

Vote here for the next bonus chapter!

💌 series mixtape

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Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

[cllightning81]

The Drivers - Part 1

Series Title : Younger Sister (TBC)

Summary: Being Lando Norris' sister made it surprising that it was one of your only visits to the paddock. Ollie made sure to introduce you to all the drivers and show you about.

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader

Word Count : 1.2k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

It wasn’t exactly hard being Lando’s sister, especially when you hardly went to races. Silverstone just never matched up with when you could take holidays from your part time job and the break from school but now you were close to finishing high school and had left your part time job to travel with Lando -with him paying for literally everything because what else should brother’s do?- 

The last couple of days of school and you finally decided it was time for you to change your phone wallpaper back to your favourite picture of yourself and Lando. When Lando got moved into F1, you changed your phone wallpaper back to a less obvious picture of yourself and Lando, so you didn’t get people wanting to be your friend just because of Lando. 

Now you were at the first race you had been to in a long while -Silverstone- sat in the Mclaren garage just wanting to annoy Lando as a little sister should do but he was interviewing and you didn’t want to be in front of the camera. That’s when you saw Max walk past the garage alone. Max was basically a brother he’d been about since as long as you could remember. 

“Max” you called before jumping on his back 

“Missing LN, are we?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Lan left me in the garage alone” you pouted, and he chuckled 

“What are you going to do when you’re the only one with him?” He asked, starting to walk again. 

“Where are you going?” You asked him, resting your head on his shoulder 

“Going to find your brother to return his property” He joked, and you slapped his arm. Max laughed as he walked to the media pen, stopping next to Lando and dropping you onto the floor 

“Your property, I believe” Max tapped your head before walking away

“Lan I’m bored” You whine, and his PR manager laughed 

“You didn’t bring anything to keep her entertained?” His PR manager asked 

“I thought she’d find some random F2 driver’s girlfriend to talk to, but obviously not” I pouted, shoving him away 

“I don’t know if they’re just random people or girlfriends and family” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“Fair point, I guess. Come on I’ll introduce you to Ollie he’s over there” You nodded, following behind him as he walked away, gripping onto his wrist 

“Y/N no one’s gonna kidnap you” He laughed, and you gripped his wrist tighter

“But it’s so busy, and I don’t know where I’m going” You whine as he comes to a sudden stop, causing you to bump into his back. 

“Ollie” the older sibling smiled at the younger boy, who was just happily sipping on his drink

“Oh hey Lando. Y/N” He smiled, looking up 

“Hey” You smiled back at him

“You already know Ollie?” Lando questioned, and you nodded

“I’ve not been avoiding Formula racing all together or living under a rock” You shrugged

“And he knows you?” Lando looked between the two of you.

“Ollie follows me on instagram. I became quite the popular girl at school” You giggle thinking back to prom when you were being questioned on how you were now followed by not only Lando but Oliver Bearman. What Lando didn’t need to know is that you two were secretly texting and had plans to go for ice cream after his sprint race while Lando was doing whatever practice. 

“Okay well bye. I’ll see you in an hour” Lando walked away, and that’s when it became awkward 

“You’ve definitely not been to a race in a while” Ollie chuckled, taking your smaller hand in his larger hand and moving you out of the media pen.

“They’re scary. There’s always so many people here, and I never know who I’m allowed to be talking to” you pouted 

“Come on I’ll introduce you to the drivers, some of them anyway” Ollie led you back into the paddock and in between all the different motorhomes starting with Ferrari as he was meant to be in there anyway.

“We’ll start with Ferrari because at least if you get lost, you can’t miss the bright red” He grinned, leading you inside and over to a couple of people talking. Charles and Carlos. You obviously knew who the drivers were. They just didn’t know who you were. 

“Done with your interviews?” Charles asked, and Ollie nodded

“Yeah, I finished those. Now I’m showing Y/N about the place” He smiled as both the Ferrari drivers looked at you. 

“Girlfriend?” Carlos asked, and Ollie shook his head as you laughed 

“Lando’s sister. I don’t know how I ended up with her” Ollie replied, and you looked up at him slightly offended

“Lando’s sister?” Charles repeated, and you nodded 

“Lando has another sister?” Carlos asked. 

“We didn’t meet while you were teammates. I was still quite busy with school. It’s been my first race for a while. I don’t know many people here” you replied as he nodded slowly 

“You look like Lando, to be honest” Charles tilted his head 

“It’s the curls” You shrugged as Ollie took your hand again 

“Next garage” He cheered, pulling you out. You gave a polite wave to the Ferrari drivers as Ollie pulled you to the Red Bull garage. You knew Max. When you stayed with Lando during holidays or lockdown, he would stream with Max. 

“Hey Y/N” Max smiled, wrapping you in a hug

“Finally! A familiar face” You hummed hugging him back 

“What happened to me introducing you to everyone?” Ollie asked, and you smiled, turning to look at him as you pulled back from the hug 

“Max and Lando are like best friends. Lando has a thing about people called Max” You joked as Max Fewtrell walked up behind you

“What about us Max’s?” He asked, causing you to jump and let out a scream 

“Bog off Max” you replied 

“Ohh not the Tracy Beaker line” He joked, and you rolled your eyes. Both Lando and Max still had a thing about you swearing, not like you were legally an adult, so you resorted to saying ‘Bog off’

“Are you lost? Do I need to carry you back to Lando”? He asked, and you shook your head

“Ollie is showing me about and introducing me to different people” You smiled, and he nodded, ruffling your hair 

“Well P is lost, so I’m gonna go find her. Be safe” Max walked off as Checo joined 

“Ah Checo this is Lando’s youngest sister Y/N” The Dutch man introduced you, and you smiled at Checo 

“Nice to meet you” you hummed, looking at Ollie for help. Checo and Lando weren’t exactly the best of friends. 

Ollie continued to introduce you to different drivers until it was time for him to return you to Lando - that was Lando’s words - so now you were following Ollie back to the Mclaren garage. He stopped outside, and you smiled at him 

“Thank you for showing me about” You thanked him, and he nodded

“Are we still up for ice cream tomorrow?” He asked, and you nodded 

“We are. But you’re coming to me. I still don’t know where I’m going” you replied 

“Then I’ll meet you outside here?” You smiled with a nod as Lando walked out the garage 

“Home time” He cheered, and you laughed, waving bye to Ollie as Lando walked you out of the paddock as he talked to Oscar. 

Next Part

Tag List

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[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love - Masterlist

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

Warnings: beefy!bucky, injury, mild language, mentions of crime, a bit of angst, eventual smut (MINORS DNI) , kind of slow burn ig, overwhelming fluff tbh

a/n: this will be a multi-part series and I will try my very best to upload regularly, not sure how many parts that will be so there's only a few placeholders for now, but it will definitely be a bit of a longer fic! im currently in college AND working so this is a passion project <3 I'd love to hear your feedback, my asks are always open! the chapters are also all based on lyrics from Taylor Swift's You Are In Love, one of my favorite love songs of all time. hope you all enjoy!!!

one - one look, dark room

two - meant just for you

three - time moved too fast

four - you play it back

TBC

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (MASTERLIST)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Smut (MDNI 18+), incest, canon-typical violence, blood and injury, alcohol consumption, slow burn, enemies to lovers, (more specific tags and TW on each individual chapter).

Chapters:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (TBC)

A/N: If you wish to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form for easier management.