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venusbyline · 5 days ago

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Mother Above — Aemond Targaryen.

— summary: His wish for revenge had broken the bond of love and affection between him and his mother. Alicent no longer saw him as her good boy. She was seeing him as a monster, worse than Aegon. A murderer. A murderer who could only find comfort in another woman's arms. In your arms.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

— type: smut

— word count: 1.6k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, sub!Aemond Targaryen, prostitution, breastfeeding, lactation kink, handjob, mommy kink, mommy issues, breast worship, naked snuggling, implied Aemond Targaryen/Alicent Hightower BUT NOT REALLY, mention of Helaena and Aegon together during the Driftmark incident, Lucerys Velaryon's death mentioned, Jaehaerys Targaryen's death mentioned, religious imagery and symbolism (Faith of the Seven), single mother!reader, kinda fluff, kinda angst too, fluffy but open ending, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Reader has no specific description of physical appearance other than breasts (no specific size mentioned) and a vagina.

— author's notes²: This one-shot is based on an anon horny thought that I received on my inbox this week 🤭🤭💕💕 Tysm sweetie!!!

— crossposting: AO3

❥ Aemond masterlist • HOTD masterlist

❥ about me • main masterlist

Aemond entered the brothel with the same stoic face as always, his jaw clenched almost like a stone, perfectly matching the coldness of his gaze. His single eye scanned the place without worrying about the whispers of the other people around.

The whores and their clients... All whispering about the constant presence of the Targaryen prince there, once again that week. Such visits no longer caused great surprises, no longer raised confused or fearful looks. No one asking about what he might want... Everyone knew.

Everyone knew why Aemond was there. They knew who he was looking for. Who he was paying. Who he was desiring, and not just physically.

"May I help you?" A random girl approached him, as she was instructed to do. Regardless of how obvious the reasons for Aemond's visit were, the rules established by Madam Sylvi had to be followed. The whores had to offer themselves to him first, no matter what.

Aemond grimaced at the sight of the girl coming close to him like a dog in heat, her nipples perky behind the fabric of her silk robe that did little to keep her mounds covered. She was not ugly, perhaps she was the type that would catch his older brother's attention — although Aegon did not have very high standards when it came to women. He just liked any tight cunt he could fuck.

"No." Aemond answered to the whore's suggestion, returning to survey the brothel with his eye, not even bothering himself to try to be a little more friendly or to thank her for that offer.

He was there for a specific purpose, and that one did not include tarnishing his dignity with a woman of no importance.

With a woman who was not you.

The whore did her best to disguise her reaction, a poor and weak performance. The offense at the quick rejection was clear on her face, as difficult to mask as it was impossible for Aemond to hide who he really was.

His attempt to hide his Targaryen bloodline was failing, despite the hood he wore to cover the color of his long hair.

Everyone knew he was a Targaryen prince. Everyone knew he was Aemond One-Eye. After all, who else on that damn city would have silver hair and wear an eye patch?

After a few more minutes of complete silence, an older whore approached the one who was already close to Aemond, whispering something in her ear. The younger woman took a deep breath and nodded, before turning to the prince with a fake smile. "She is waiting for you."

Aemond's tongue circled around your nipple, teasing the peak so he could turn it more perky... Drops of milk dripped even though he had not made any real effort to suck and extract them yet.

The taste was sweet. Familiar and comforting. Just like the sounds of pleasure that came from the lips of the pretty woman beside him. You.

You seemed like some Goddess before Aemond's eye. The Mother Above in all her glory, granting him the blessing of taking you, of drinking from your breasts like a starving child. Like a newborn baby desperate to stay alive, to survive the hardships of life.

The hardships he brought upon himself when he killed Rhaenyra's son. When he let himself be carried away by impulsiveness, by a strong wish for revenge since the Driftmark incident.

Aemond could blame his cousins, Rhaena and Baela. Daemon’s daughters who had been too stupid to understand that a dragon was not like a puppy and could not be stolen, and that he had every right to try to claim Vhagar before Rhaena could recover herself after her mother’s death.

Aemond could blame Aegon and Helaena. His older brother had been so drunk that night that as soon as he was escorted back to his chambers by their grandfather, Aegon had snuck out and sneaking into their sister’s, laying next to Helaena even after he complained about his recent betrothal to her, both of them not even remembering about Aemond’s existence while they were having a decent conversation for the first time.

Aemond could blame Rhaenyra and Daemon. His spoiled cunt half-sister and his idiot uncle had not even paid attention to their own children, because they were so focused on having sex on that beach after years apart.

Aemond could blame Lucerys and Jacaerys. His nephews who were too easily influenced and who always played tricks on him along with Aegon. His nephews who always saw Aemond as someone inferior, who had accompanied Rhaena and Baela to argue with him about a matter that was none of their business. He could blame Jacaerys for bringing that knife, just like and he could blame Lucerys for using it.

Aemond could blame Viserys. He could blame his damned father for letting things go too far, for not defending him that night, for caring more about those "false" rumors of Rhaenyra's children's bastardy than the fact that Luke had mutilated his eye. For always favoring Rhaenyra, his firstborn, and completely ignoring the existence of his other children, even though he had spent years wanting a son, a male heir.

Deep down, though, Aemond knew there was only one person he could blame. And it was himself. His wish for revenge led him to murder his own nephew Lucerys Velaryon. His wish for revenge caused the war between the Greens and Blacks to begin in earnest. His wish for revenge was the reason for Jaehaerys' tragic death and for Helaena's incessant melancholy.

And worst of all... His wish for revenge had broken the bond of love and affection between him and his mother. Alicent no longer saw him as her good boy. She was seeing him as a monster, worse than Aegon. A murderer. A murderer who could only find comfort in another woman's arms. In your arms.

"You are hungry tonight..." You teased him, fingers stroking the prince's long hair.

A groan rumbled from Aemond's chest when your free hand moved down between his legs, teasing his shaft, but not quite touching it. Not quite holding it tightly and stimulating it. Not quite giving Aemond the pleasure he wanted. The pleasure he needed.

He felt like a son being denied by a mother. He felt like the way he had when he had tried to hold Alicent close after returning from Storm's End. His often stoic face was contorted into a look of despair, barely able to tell her that he had just killed Lucerys. His single eye were filled with tears that refused to let go, like when Aegon and their nephews played pranks on him and he sought comfort from his mother.

That time, however, Alicent did not comfort him. She slapped him across the face and yelled at him, the same way she always did with Aegon.

The boy had been deprived of any affection or words that could help him deal with the situation. During that night, just hours after becoming a Kinslayer, Aemond found himself entering a brothel for the second time in his entire life, thinking about distracting himself with a little sex, a tactic Aegon used whenever he was scolded by Alicent.

Unlike his older brother, who drowned his sorrows with wine and rough sex with any whore he saw, Aemond was looking for someone who would care about him. Create a bond. Someone who could love him the way Alicent had loved him before all of that. Or at least someone who was good enough at pretending.

And from the very first moment, you were willing to do it.

Now, after so many moons bedding with him, your motivations were no longer focused on the gold he paid you, no longer just focused on the opportunity to have enough money to keep your daughter fed and safe.

Aemond was not pretending.

You were not pretending.

Neither of you were pretending.

"Do not deny me..." Aemond's words sounded muffled against your breasts, not like an order dictated by a prince to a mere whore. It was like a little boy begging for his mother.

Like a believer begging for the compassion of the Seven.

You guided your palm until it finally closed around Aemond's thick pink cock, the young man's only eye closing with the pleasure of that touch while the sapphire that filled his empty eye socket looked even more beautiful than before.

Oh, how grateful he was to the Mother Above for your motherhood, for the breast milk that trickled from your breasts as he sucked and squeezed them, nourishing him like they nourished your own child, nourishing him like the wet nurse had nourished him when he was just a little baby, nourishing him like Alicent never cared to do when he was born.

"Gentle Mother, font of mercy. Save our sons from war, we pray, stay the swords and stay the arrows. Let them know a better day..." Your voice sounded soft, humming the hymn Aemond had already asked you to recite when he was breastfed by you for the first time.

Aemond whimpered with a mixture of pleasure and sadness, melancholy filling him as he remembered about the afternoons he had accompanied Alicent to the Sept so they could pray together. As he remembered about her humming that hymn along with Helaena when he and his sister were little kids.

Melancholy filling him as your milk wet his lips and his creamy seed splattered onto your fingers.

"Gentle Mother, strength of women. Help our daughters through this fray. Soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way." You finished singing, kissing Aemond's forehead like Alicent used to do. Like Alicent would never do again.

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

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Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist 💜

It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown.

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate.

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop.

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far.

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo.

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything.

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say.

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question.

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited?

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone.

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again.

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace.

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?”

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!”

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over.

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going?

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous.

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks.

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity.

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away.

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo.

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic.

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck.

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself.

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now.

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors.

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say.

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.”

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache.

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly.

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock?

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg.

“Oh no, that was just for you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?”

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence.

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf.

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric.

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. ��Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?”

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you.

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all.

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!”

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.”

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip.

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs.

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin.

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.”

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake.

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind.

“Just think about it.”

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing.

And oh, god, do you think about it.

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name.

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall).

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs.

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.”

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.”

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority.

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape.

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear.

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod.

“And what did you decide?”

“I - I don’t know.”

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?”

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage.

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir.

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.”

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list.

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs.

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.”

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.”

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely.

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?”

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin.

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?”

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes.

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger.

Fine, then. You’re a fool.

“One.”

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable.

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again.

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.”

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.”

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice.

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.”

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?”

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking.

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.”

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.”

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath.

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.”

“No shit. Everyone knows that.”

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again.

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?”

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right.

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?”

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.”

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it.

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek.

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move.

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply.

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.”

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open.

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him.

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.”

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go.

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need.

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed.

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated.

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants.

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.”

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience.

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body.

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it.

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him.

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.”

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue.

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly.

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.”

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?”

“I will.”

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing.

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.”

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens.

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little.

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps.

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands.

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.”

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.”

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you.

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life.

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze.

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso.

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves.

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between.

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!”

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.”

And just like that, you feel that spark again.

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash.

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation.

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer.

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his.

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!”

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.”

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls.

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!”

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.”

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.”

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you.

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you.

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.”

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.”

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.”

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?”

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl.

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it.

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip.

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises.

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire.

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need.

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs.

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!”

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him.

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.”

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush.

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace.

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content.

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and -

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.”

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.”

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look.

“What?”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?”

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.”

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss.

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skyguytoast · 16 days ago

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HEADCANONS: HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X FIRST ROLE ACTRESS! READER

WARNING: none just cuteness WORDS: 1.1k A/N: Hello my loves!!! It’s been a little while since I posted a headcanon, but in a slightly belated celebration of Hayden’s birthday, I put together some soft and sparkly ideas about what it would be like to have him as your coworker on your very first acting job 🎬I hope you enjoy it lots!! 💕 Likes, comments, and reblogs truly make my day and keep me inspired to keep writing 🌈📩 Alsooo~ don’t be shy! My inbox is always open for requests and ideas 💌🧸 I love love love hearing from you 💭 DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

When you got the chance to audition for a new Star Wars series focused on Darth Vader training a Sith apprentice while struggling under Palpatine’s control, you didn’t just prepare—you obsessed. The prequels were your favorite, and Anakin had always been your soft spot. So when the opportunity came to not only be part of Star Wars but possibly act with Hayden Christensen, it felt like your entire childhood lining up with your dreams.

The audition day was pure nerves. You sat stiff in the waiting area, trying to remember every calming technique you’d ever read about—breathing exercises, visualizations, even tapping your fingertips to distract yourself. When your name was finally called, your heart was pounding, but you slipped into character and let go. The moment you walked out, you couldn’t recall a single line. But somehow, you knew—you’d given it your all.

A few days later, you got the email for a chemistry read with Hayden. You actually screamed. Loud. Into your pillow. When he walked into the room, tall and calm and giving that quiet smile to everyone, even the PA refilling water bottles, your heart jumped. “I’m Hayden,” he said, stepping toward you, his voice warm. “You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded, cheeks warm, slipping your hand into his. His grip was firm, gentle—steady. You felt your nerves ease instantly.

After landing the role, you dove into training before scripts even arrived. Your first lightsaber sessions were hilariously bad. You smacked your own head. Twice. But you kept showing up, bruises and all. Two months in, Hayden joined you. He watched your movements with kind eyes, then asked, “So, how much of a Sith are you now?” You laughed, slightly out of breath. “I’ve got the bruises, so... halfway there?” He chuckled. “That’s more than most.”

Training with him quickly became your favorite part of the day. He was patient, goofy, and shockingly down-to-earth. He showed you his signature spin move—the fast back-swing from Revenge of the Sith. When he stood behind you, gently guiding your hands with his, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies. You tried it. And failed. Three times. On the third, you tripped over his boot and both of you hit the mat. The silence was broken by his laugh—loud and genuine. He wrapped an arm around you as you sat up, breathless. “You’ll get it,” he grinned. “And we’ll make it look epic.”

You shared the same dressing area for hair and makeup—though his call time was always hours before yours. Vader’s scars took time. You’d come in with a coffee in hand and find him half-asleep in the makeup chair, prosthetics half-done, mumbling, “Mornin’... you brought the good coffee?” You always did.

Your Sith apprentice costume was sleek, practical, with tight black pants, armored vest, and a flowing cape. Meanwhile, Hayden’s Vader suit was brutal—hot, stiff, and heavy. So you made it your mission to help. Juice boxes, water bottles, a mini fan in your tote—you were his unofficial handler. “You’re gonna owe me a coffee sponsorship, deal?” you teased once, holding a straw up to his helmet. “Deal,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind the mask.

One day, you begged him to let you try on the Vader helmet. “Just for a second, please?” He looked hesitant. “It’s heavier than it looks.” You waved him off and slipped it on—and nearly tipped over. “Oh my god,” you gasped, staggering under the weight. Hayden jumped forward, steadying you with both hands. “Told you,” he said with a grin. “Maybe you should listen to me next time.” You gave him a sheepish thumbs-up from inside the massive helmet.

After every take—every single one—Hayden would find you and say something kind. “You crushed that,” or “Your delivery was perfect.” Even if the scene was only a few seconds. It made you feel seen. Like you belonged. And that mattered.

Filming days were long, especially on location. Every night, you and Hayden would end up in one of your trailers or hotel rooms, sharing takeout and debriefing. Sometimes you’d learn about the place you were filming in—local food, weird trivia. Sometimes you just laughed until your stomach hurt. If there wasn’t an early call, you shared a beer or a glass of wine, always with music in the background and feet propped up.

During a grueling quarry shoot, you finished your scene and curled up on a mattress in the shade. When you woke up, Hayden was crouched nearby, trying (and failing) to quietly eat a bag of chips. His eyes went wide when he saw you stirring, chip halfway in his mouth. You both stared. Then burst out laughing. “Sorry,” he mumbled with cheeks full. “I got hungry.”

On crew buses between sets, it became an unspoken rule: your seat was beside his. He’d open his arms without a word, letting you rest your head against his chest. If he was tired too, he’d rest his cheek on top of your head. Sometimes you woke up still leaning on him, the world outside flying by.

You developed a superpower: falling asleep anywhere. Under tables, on chairs, even leaning against prop crates. One day Hayden found you curled up beneath the main set of Vader’s Fortress. “She’s doing her Sith meditation,” he joked to a crew member. But a few days later, you caught him asleep on the floor next to you, head on your arm, you smiled.

You and Hayden developed a running bit where every time you messed up a take, he’d dramatically whisper, “You’ve failed me for the last time,” in his Vader voice. It always made you laugh too hard to stay embarrassed. The crew started catching on, and even the director played along once with, “Cut. And... Vader disapproves.”

During one of your first big duel scenes, you swung too hard and knocked Hayden’s saber clean out of his hand. The set went dead silent until he looked at you, deadpan. “That was... impressive. Terrifying, but impressive.” From that day on, he jokingly called you “the real Chosen One.”

At night, sometimes you’d set up a little laptop and watch old Star Wars films together. You had questions about the lore, and Hayden loved nerding out with you, explaining little behind-the-scenes stories. “You know that scene on Mustafar? I had to wear red-yellow contact lenses and a wig. That heat was no joke.” You’d grin, eyes wide. “And now you’re back—still surviving lava planets.”

On the final day, you tried to keep it together. Everyone was emotional, but you felt it heavier than most—it had been your first real job, and Hayden had been such a grounding presence. After your last take, he walked over, hugged you tight, and whispered, “You’re a star, Y/N. You made this story better.” Later that night, he handed you a small gift: a silver pendant shaped like a tiny lightsaber. “To remind you where your journey began.”

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#hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x female reader #hayden christensen headcanons #hayden christensen headcanon #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen fluff

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stuckinmymind22 · 26 days ago

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Hello Please could you write a Shanks x you. They were apprentice lovers on the pirate king's ship. After the crew separated, y/n disappeared. When Shanks found out about her, she had become a marine and didn't remember it. Oh, at least she pretended not to be. But Shanks knew what to do. She wouldn't become a marine just like that. Something happened, and he would find out and get her out of that stupid organization. Please, your work is incredible. I'll send you a gift. Take care. I hope you can accept my request.

open book | shanks x gn! reader

hi anon! first of all sorry for the late reply i know it's been a while. also thank you so much!!! when i saw this in my inbox i had an idea right away, i've been chipping away at it this past month, it helps my brain to be able to hop between projects and i kept returning to this one it was very fun to write so thank you for the inspiration (and the gift, can't forget that) love you and thanks for reading the silly things i write 💕

tags: lowkey hurt/comfort, very bittersweet, first love reunited years later, canon typical violence, drinking, swearing, suggestive (it always is with this man let's be honest), ambiguous ending ig (in my head it all works out lol)

wc: 5.9 k

a/n: i told myself i cannot go to bed until i finally finished this so if we see any typos or mistakes no we didn't, just know i tried lol

Shanks heard your laugh before he saw you. That sound wasn't something that he'd easily forget. It had been years, nearing decades at this point, since he'd hast heard it, but it was unmistakable. Shanks had never forgotten about you. How could he? You were his one regret. An injury that never healed quite right.

He hadn't understood his feelings for you until it had been much too late — until you'd been too far out of his reach. By the time he had realized how he felt, you had become impossible to find. He had tried, over the years he'd made many attempts to track you down, but nothing ever came up. All traces of you were gone, it'd been like you never even existed.

After all of this time, finally getting confirmation that you were alive lifted a weight from his shoulders — one he hadn't known he'd been holding. He looked around the dingy bar to find you. The prospect of seeing you again made him feel giddy. The feeling brought him back to his youth, to the last time you'd seen each other. It was far too late to change anything — he knew that — but talking to you one more time might finally bring him the closure he was missing.

When he spotted you, his heart stopped, but not in a good way. HE could barely believe his eyes. Yes, you were there, but you were wearing the unmistakable uniform of a marine. A rear admiral. There was no fucking way. He knew it had been years and things had changed, but there was no way you had changed that much. Maybe he had simply drank too much and was seeing things wrong, hallucinating even. At least that would make sense.

Shanks squeezed his eyes shut (a good substitute for rubbing them, he'd found) and looked again. The same scar on your forehead, one he'd watched you receive. The smile was the same, everything lined up with his memory. There was no more denying it. It was you. And you were a goddamn marine — or at least in one of their uniforms... interacting with the unit like you knew them.

Something was off, it had to be.

You had fucking hated the marines, and the World Government as a whole. At least you had the last time he'd seen you. He remembered the drunken rants you would go on, airing out all your qualms with the government — those rants he had always enjoyed, your animated passion had made them quite entertaining. Everything about the picture in front of him went against the very core of what he knew about you.

Truthfully, he had long suspected that you'd disappeared into the Revolutionary Army and that was why you'd been impossible to find. That was a seed that Beckman had planted in his mind early on, but it made perfect sense. There was more to this than Shanks knew — he wouldn't believe anything else — and he would be damned if he didn't figure out what.

The rest of the night he kept his eyes on you, clinging to the shadows. He was grateful that he was alone, it had made it far easier to avoid detection. He knew he was a wanted man, being spotted would make more difficult to decipher whatever the hell was actually going on.

As he had suspected (and hoped), you barely drank. Even when your soldiers urged you on, you abstained. While those around you were having fun and lowering their guard, you stayed alert. At one point in the night, you caught his eyes. A look of recognition and shock passed by briefly before you turned away, pretending you hadn't seen him.

Throughout it all, his feelings started to become more complex as memories of your time together came flooding back to him. You had been so close. The two of you had gone from best friends to lovers to... nothing. That still stung. Teenage heartbreak had a funny way of sticking around. It was true what they say, how you never forget your first love.

You got more chummy with your fellow marines as the night wore on, and, for some reason, it became harder and harder for him to witness. When one of them slung his arm around you, pulling you close, Shanks felt his temper flare. You were no longer teenagers and you were no longer together, he reminded himself. He had no claim to you and you had no obligation to him, but he couldn't keep watching it.

Shanks left the bar, but he hadn't given up yet. He wasn't going to let you go a second time, at least not until he got some answers.

~~~~~~~

It was all starting to get too much for you; your rowdy comrades were enough on their own, but seeing him again had been the real nail in the coffin. You needed a break from it all and you needed a damn cigarette. You excused yourself and stepped out into the cold night air, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Seeing Shanks on posters and hearing about him all the time at "work" tugged on your heartstrings enough, reigniting a sense of longing. But being in his presence? That was a whole different beast. You still missed him, there was no denying it. A part of your heart never stopped longing for him, even after all this time. He'd been your first...everything. Your naive, idealistic younger self had once thought he'd be your last too. Unfortunately, life had gotten in the way.

The disbandment of the Roger Pirates and your captain’s execution had spelt the end for you two. He’d set out to sea, as you’d always known he would. He had invited you to come with him and you told him you would think about it, but that was the last time you saw him. You ended up wandering for a while before you found yourself in the arms of the Revolutionary Army at its infancy. With your strong ideology it had been a natural progression for you. Plus, you got seasick way too much to be a pirate — ironic now that you were playing the part of a marine.

Lighter in hand and cigarette in mouth, you walked further from the bar and way from the noise. Suddenly, you were yanked into an alleyway as you passed by, met with a question and a pair of familiar eyes. “Since when do you smoke?” Your mouth fell open, cigarette falling to the ground. Shanks. It took everything in you to not reach out an touch him, to confirm that you weren’t dreaming, but the point of contact on your arm had already proven that he was in front of you.

A soft whisper of his name slipped from your lips, and he smiled at you. Shanks had always liked his name in your voice — it had matured with time, but it was still uniquely yours. “Hey, Doll.” Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the situation. Simply saying his name wouldn’t blow your cover — you were a marine in the New World, of course you would recognize him — but the way your heart was racing might. At least nobody was around to witness it.

God, you hadn’t been this close to him in years; breath intermingling, standing practically chest to chest. It felt almost ridiculous to still be this impacted by him, but you couldn’t help it. How long had these emotions lied dormant? A highlight reel of all your memories with him started playing. You were snapped out of it when he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently called your name — your real one, not the one you had been using.

You needed to pull it together, you couldn’t afford to slip an inch when you had come this far. But, damnit, it was hard. If you were better at this, you probably would’ve raised attention to his presence, like you should have done before. You had to fulfill your role as a good little marine, and a good marine would alert to his presence. But the limit of what you were willing to do only went so far, and you could never bring yourself to hurt him. Any potential consequence to your silence didn’t matter in the moment.

“What the hell happened to you?” Shanks asked, maneuvering his body in a way that would shield you from being visible to people on the street. “Why are you a marine?” His usual easy going voice had been laced with concern and confusion. You wanted to tell him the truth, you wanted to tell him so bad. He had always been your weakness, but you had a job to do.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? Do you need help? Is someone forcing you to do this? Do they have something on you?” His continued on, uncharacteristically worried. As far as Shanks was concerned becoming a marine (especially one that had risen through the ranks) was antithetical to everything you stood for — against your very nature.

He saw the pang of remorse in your expression and realized you wanted to tell him. You weren’t keeping quiet out of fear either, that eased his anxieties. Thinking about it, you had seen him much earlier but you hadn’t done anything about it, and you weren’t now either. It confirmed that you weren’t in this position due a newfound love of the government or a sense of heavy handed justice — you had a motive. It was written all over your face, confirming that you were still you.

For some reason, the reassurance wasn’t enough, he desperately needed to know what the motive was. Shanks knew he shouldn’t push and that it should be enough to know that you were up to something, but that wasn’t stopping him. Shanks tried listing off possible reasons and gauging your reaction, but he was getting nowhere. Either you had become much better at keeping a poker face and hiding your tells or he was severely out of practice when it came to you.

You couldn’t respond or even open your mouth, you knew you could never keep things from him. Shanks had an uncanny ability to read you and figure out what you were hiding — it had annoyed the hell out of you and Buggy growing up, but here it could be harmful. Not that you didn’t trust him, but there were so many unknown variables in the area, you couldn’t trust your surroundings. There was no guarantee that you wouldn’t be overheard or seen. Letting him touch you was dangerous enough, but you were about to do something more risky.

Reaching up, you touched his face, cupping his cheek. Shanks went quiet right away, his breath hitching. It was fascinating to see that you still had that effect on him. Perhaps you weren’t the only one who had spent years being plagued by unresolved feelings, occasionally lying awake thinking of all the “what ifs”.

But this would be your last time seeing him. It had to be. You wanted to soak it all in, remembering everything about him. The universe, however, seemed to hate that idea, calls for you rang out on the street in a drunken chorus. Your unit was looking for you. It was time to go.

~~~~~~~

The next day one of your subordinates had seen members of the Red Hair pirates and had decided to be a big shot about it, picking a fight. It had been really fucking stupid of him to go after members of a Yonko’s personal crew, but he had. And now everyone had to bear the brunt of the consequences. Being dragged into an altercation, especially one involving Shanks and his crew, was something you wanted no part in. Honestly, you wanted to strangle the man for causing such a mess, but you had to act your part.

As the highest ranking official on the island and his superior, you were forced to step in and clean the mess up. The fight had already drawn blood by the time you had been alerted about it, which limited options in how to stop it without losing face. You came to the conclusion that the only way out was through, you just hoped casualties would be limited on either side.

Naturally, and unfortunately, you ended up facing the captain of the crew — a man you knew very well and someone you couldn’t bring yourself to injure. It appeared that Shanks felt the same way. Neither of you were willing to put forth any effort in this fight. It was a dance for than anything. A forced performance.

You were backed into a corner, so close to your objective, but you needed to play it carefully. You knew that you were next in line for a promotion, one that you did not want or need yet. Saying no to the offer would raise eyebrows, so you had been trying to find a way to push back your consideration. It had to be done in a way where you didn’t lose too much prestige either, you were walking a fine line. While you were going through the motions of a fight with Shanks, you were considering your exit strategies. Backing down and withdrawing, while reasonable, would decrease your standing too much. Being defeated however…

Shanks was not worried about his crew at all, he trusted they could handle it, especially considering the state of the marines. What he did know was that you would not be engaging in this if you hadn’t deemed it as necessary, and if that was the case he didn’t mind putting on a show. You were scowling but underneath that was an expression of concentration, you were plotting and scheming. He would’ve smiled at it if it weren’t for the current situation. Watching you come do a decision was something he had always found cute, and that still held true.

With your mind made up and your swords interlocked, you inched closer to the yonko still wearing a forced snarl. “Shanks,” you gritted out with no malice. Calling out his name had him soften ever so slightly, which you used to your advantage. “You need to incapacitate me. I’ll give you an opening and you cut me, okay?”

The man looked at you like you had lost your damned mind, taking a step back but you chased after him. “You need to take me down,” you reiterated, trying to convey your sense of urgency. “What the hell are you on about?” That was your idea? He couldn’t believe that you were asking that of him. “I need you to trust me,” the angry expression on your face was undermined by the plea in your eyes. You glanced around to remind him of the situation, slowly, you watched him understand your reasoning.

The last thing Shanks wanted to do was hurt you, but you had determined that would be the best outcome. He didn’t fully understand why or what you would accomplish by it, but he trusted you. A barely perceivable nod told you that he agreed. You released a sigh of relief and braced yourself for what was to come. With gritted teeth, Shanks raised his sword and brought it down; you allowed the blade to slash you. Your blood splattered onto him and he felt like he was going to be sick. Right away you collapsed to the ground; it was hard for Shanks to know how much of that was acting and how much was his doing.

“I’m sorry,” he told you as he sheathed his sword, not willing to look at you. You thanked him in a strained voice, and weakly rose to your feet. The skirmish was over. He played his part, now you had to play yours.

You ordered a full retreat and to treat the wounded right way -- there was about as many as you had expected, and to your sick sense of satisfaction, the man who started the mess was on the ground. The pirates got away with minor scrapes, but the same could not be said for your side. You could not believe the ego on some of these men for thinking they could go against them

Instead of going to receive treatment for the large gash that was dying your clothes red, you stayed put. Watching Shanks disappear again, reopening the scarred over hole in your heart.

~~~~~~~

Following the shit show of a fight, you had been brought to a marine hospital, where you were currently stuck. The doctors fussed over you almost to the point you wished you'd just died (not really, but wow was it a lot). You had finally been granted some peace and quiet when your transponder snail rang, and not the marine issued one.

"He's asking too many questions." The voice of the Revolutionary Army's chief of staff, Sabo, rang out the moment you picked up. The kid was nothing if not direct. "Get him to stop."

"Not even gonna see if I'm alright," you teased him before he could hang up. "You sound alive to me." The smile in his voice was audible. "Go fix it." With that Sabo cut the call. Without waiting for a response or providing any further information. That damn kid. He had pretty much always been like that, ever since you met him as a child.

It had been risky for him to call you while you were practically in a lion's den, Sabo might be bad at communicating but he wasn't dumb. The fact that he had called you here and now meant that it was a priority — whatever it was that you had to do. You had a pretty good guess as to what that had been about (Shanks), but you wouldn’t draw conclusions with no further details. Either way, you had to make the preparations to set out.

Your doctors had been reluctant to discharge you, but you had managed to convince them with a made up story about your hometown and the threat of pulling rank. You were grateful for your status as a rear admiral, it had made it much easier for you to acquire the supplies you needed for a journey without anyone asking questions. The only thing that raised an eyebrow was asking about an unmarked ship, but you dropped it and chose to rent a civilian one instead.

Once you left the range of the marine’s surveillance capabilities, after completing preparations and setting off, you called headquarters for more information. To your surprise (and relief) you were transferred to Dragon himself, at least he would give you complete answers.

“I heard you got hurt, how badly injured are you?” He asked in place of a greeting. “Not enough to be worried about,” you responded. It was the truth, but you left out the part about how, depending on where you were going and what you were doing, you might have to push yourself. You informed him that you had a couple of weeks of explained and excused absence. You could practically hear the man nod. Before you could ask any clarifying questions about the mission, Dragon spoke.

“He didn’t tell you anything did he?” He sounded tired. Sabo was known for doing that sort of thing. While frustrating at times, you all loved him deeply. Sabo was really smart and dedicated to the cause, which was how he managed to become second in command as a teenager. “No. He just told me to go fix it.” Dragon sighed, muttering something about “that kid,” making you smile.

“Red Hair Shanks is asking around about you, using both names too.” You had figured that was the case, but you were a bit surprised, connecting your name and your alias like that was dangerous. Dragon had a vague knowledge of your history with the man, so he didn’t bother questioning why the pirate would do that.

“You know we can’t have him sniffing around like that. What happens when a yonko asks questions? People find the answer. I don’t need to tell you the consequences, but if we found out he’s doing it, the marines won’t be too far behind, which is why we gotta nip it in the bud. We can’t afford to lose this operation. I don’t know or care why he’s doing it, just get him to stop.”

~~~~~~~

After he’d left, Shanks had been in a mood. One that the majority of the crew had never seen before. He was quieter than usual, drinking more (an accomplishment tbh), and laughing less — it wasn’t that noticeable unless you looked for it, or you were with him 24/7. he wasn't the best at playing it off tbfh. He could manage most of the time, it wasn't too hard, but when he got alone it was worse.

He felt stupid for being this affected by it all. Some of it made sense, like worrying about your well being, but drowning in emotions from over a decade ago? That felt rather pathetic. He supposed that was just what he got for bottling it all up. He had gone as far as stopping talking about you, at one point you were one of his favorite people. Not many people knew what you had meant to him at one point and even less had been around to witness it. It felt wrong to confide in others about the grave he’d dug, so he kept it to himself.

He was in his thirties for fucks sake, he couldn’t be wallowing like a teenager experiencing heartbreak for the first time — he had important things to do — but that’s what it was.

. You had been separated far longer than you had even known each other, he should be alright. But he wasn’t. Everything was so confusing and Shanks had no clue how to sort through it all.

Not only was he stuck dwelling in the unprocessed pain from his youth, which wasn’t fun by itself, but what was worse was the sinking feeling in his stomach that he’d killed you. In his mind he knew that it wasn’t a fatal blow, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he would live with himself if it was. The longer he went without any news on your condition the worse that feeling got.

When he was alerted of a sole, unmarked ship approaching them on the horizon a few days later, he actually thought about if it was worth checking — it was that bad. But he was glad that he did.

He borrowed someone's telescope already set at the right focus (there really was no good way to do that himself anymore) and looked. He thought that he saw you messing with the sail, but that couldn't be right. He passed the telescope to Beckman, who had (annoyingly) been keeping a close eye on him{ the past few days}, and asked the man to describe what he saw. It matched. What the fuck?

A series of emotions washed over Shanks, the man one being relief. He now knew that you were alive, and you were well enough to man a ship solo. The captain kept checking on the ship periodically, just to make sure he was right with what he saw. The closer the vessel came, the more certain he was, and the better he felt. Shanks damn near did a 180, falling back into himself.

~~~~~~~

The first thing Shanks noticed when you were climbing aboard was how you looked damn near green. The sight made him crack a smile. “Still don’t got your sea legs, do ya?” The emperor teased as he helped you over the railing. You let out a short laugh, trying to control the nausea. Hopefully a larger and sturdier ship would make it better. “Is it that obvious?”

You stood on your own two feet, holding strong while you put on a brave face. But he could tell. He always could. Shanks got a better look at you and realized that there was freshly dried blood on your clothes, directly over where he had cut you. Seeing the consequences of his actions like that made him feel uneasy, but it was just like you to open up a wound like that. He sighed and looked you in the eyes. To be honest, you had forgotten about that entirely. You smiled at him sheepishly.

“Glad to see you haven’t changed a bit,” he said before calling out for who you assumed was the ship’s doctor and leading you to a more isolated part of the deck. “It seems you changed a little,” Your eyes flickered from the scars on his eye to where his dominant arm used to be, neither of which had been like that the last you spoke. “S’pose I have,” he said with a smile. He sat you down with your back to the ship before leaning against the railing in front of you.

Without your permission, your eyes scanned the rest of his body, very blatantly checking him out. Shanks raised an eyebrow at the action and you decided to just commit. “I like it. You look good. Like really good.” He laughed at the very conspicuous flirtation. He supposed one thing had changed, you had gotten more bold. “I can say the same to you, Doll. Time’s done you well. ‘M almost jealous.” Shanks said, his smirk widening when you grew flustered by his words. Whatever you were going to say died in your mouth at the arrival of the doctor.

The man hoveredyou over briefly, zoning in on the bloody fabric of your clothes. “What happened?” The doctor asked. “I was bleeding,” you said cheekily. While the man stayed stone faced, Shanks let out a laugh, and you grinned over at him. “I can see that,” the poor doctor sounded tired, like he had to deal with this behavior all the time. “How’d it reopen?”

“The doctors told me to take it “easy” but I guess weathering a storm solo isn’t easy,” you answered, removing bloody shirt. What lied below was your crude attempt at patching yourself back up.

“Darlin’ I could’ve told you that,” Shanks teased. You scrunched your nose back at him, a former habit of yours, causing him to laugh.

Shanks made the mistake of looking directly at the freshly unwrapped injury. He felt sick — knowing he was the one who put you in that state nearly made him ill. He had been feeling guilty for days, even if it wasn’t fatal he still hurt you significantly. Sure, it was far from the worst injury he’d seen (especially with his lifestyle), but it was different this time, because this time it was you. And he did that.

You saw his reaction. This was what you’d been worried about. “Shanks,” you called for his attention. “I’m okay.” The attempt at being reassuring was undercut by the wince from the antiseptic you couldn’t hide. “Seriously,” you said looking him in the eyes, “you helped me out. Thank you”

He didn’t know how you could be thanking him for that, but at your insistence he let it go. With one last look, Shanks swallowed the lump in his throat. “What brings you all the way out here?” He asked.

He wasn’t about to complain at getting the chance to see you again, under better circumstances too, but he also was completely confused on why. It hadn’t escaped him that you were there all by yourself, without your uniform, and how the little ship you had come in on had no trace of government insignia.

Instead of any verbal response, you used your eyes to point to the doctor, who was busy fixing the stitches you’d torn. Shanks nodded, understanding that it was a topic for a more private setting, so he shifted gears. “Tell, what’s new with you?” Also something you couldn’t answered, for the same reasons. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, opting to shake your head with a smile. You directed the question back onto him. Listening to him tell his stories with a big grin. This. This felt familiar.

When your wound had been cleaned, treated, and redressed, Shanks sent the doctor away with a thanks. He stood up straight and offered you a hand. “Come on, let’s go talk,” he said, pointing to the cabin with his head. You let him help you up and followed behind him, laughing when he snagged a freshly opened bottle out from under someone and continued to walk. “For real?” The man with dreads and a bandana complained as if it was a common occurrence, which would not surprise you. “Sorry, Yasopp, I’ll give it back to you later.” Shanks responded, raising the bottle above his head. “Yeah, empty,” the man grumbled to himself. A loud laugh from the captain confirmed that that would indeed be the case.

Shanks led you through the ship, opening the door to his office while still holding the bottle with ease. Clearly it was a skill he had a lot of practice in lol. He held the door for you, shutting it behind him.

“You still on duty, Rear Admiral?” He asked. You made a gagging noise at the title, “Don’t remind me.” His grin grew at your reply, he had known that was out of character for you. Typically, you would never dream of displaying this kind of contempt for your position outside of the Army’s headquarters, but you trusted this man with your life so your usual regulations were loosened. “—Or can I offer you a drink?” He continued, shanking the open bottle in his hand, spilling some in the process. “Shit,” he said automatically, pouting at the loss [it’d be funny if he licked his hand bc so real bro]. “Yeah, sure,” you laughed.

You sat down at the desk and watched Shanks. The posters hadn’t done him justice. He was rummaging around in cabinets, looking for some glasses (because this man cared about portion sizes lol). It was almost surreal to see him again. To be able to hear his voice, his laugh, his breathing, to see his smile and the way his eyes sparkled, to be able to smell him — all things you had thought had been long lost to your memory. You pinched yourself to double check that this was really happening. The reset, while confirming you were not dreaming, set you back on track. This was not a personal visit, no matter how much you wanted it to be. You had a set of obligations to fulfill and responsibilities to uphold.

“Look… Shanks…” You started, capturing his attention and interrupting his pouring into the glasses he had just found. “You have to stop asking around about me.” You couldn’t bring yourself to include how you should never try to contact each other either — at least while you remained undercover and the time table for that was unclear.

Shanks pursed his lips and nodded. A moment of silence passed and he poured out the next glass. “I figured that’s why you came,” he admitted, sounding defeated as he slid a full glass of whatever he’d just poured across the desk to you. “What are you even doing there?” He asked, falling into his chair.

This time, the silence was your fault. You were trying to determine how much you could let him know. Shanks sighed and set his already emptied cup down. “The Revolutionary Army or pirates?” “W-what are you talking about?” Calmly, he refiled his glass, focused on how the liquid fell. “Who are you working for? No way in hell your loyalty lies with the World Government.” He said looking you in the eyes and downing his drink.

He knew? Of course he knew. You should have known. You were practically an open book to him.

“Army.”

“I figured,” he smiled, refilling both your glasses.

~~~~~~~

Over halfway through the bottle the conversation had gotten more relaxed. Over time, you had naturally moved closer together, now, you were barely a foot apart. Shanks sat on top of the desk, his foot mindlessly toying with your shin. His eyes shinned as you recounted some of the countless tales you had acquired since you last spoke. You hadn’t realized how the man hung onto your every word.

When it was his turn to play storyteller, you were just as attentive. You took in his words eagerly, occasionally offering some of your own. It just felt right — so much had changed, but yet so little.

The kids you had known each other as no longer existed, you had both seen some shit and gotten rougher around the edges, but traces of them lingered. Shanks still had the same magnetic personality you’d always known, and the smile that you used to dream about, the one that had a history of making your knees weak. The damned heart of yours had been skipping beats like a child on the playground. It was all very strange. You had never thought you’d feel that way again, but that was something for you to deal with another day. Now, now, you wanted to stay in the moment before it faded away.

Shanks was deep into recounting how he met people on his crew and how long it had taken to convince one of them to join [yasopp waited like 10 years or something lol] You leaned in, looking up at him, wide eyes bright — it was a sight that shouldn’t be as breathtaking as it was. He nearly faltered, but managed to power through. You had always had that effect on him and he doubted you even knew.

A first relationship, like yours, was bound to be rocky with ineffective communication and struggling to understand feelings. When you had unofficially departed there had been many things left unsaid. At the time, he hadn’t known he wouldn’t see you again, maybe if he had he would have said something different, but at the same time he’d just been a stupid kid. It had taken time to understand what you had and what he’d lost. Truthfully, he had never let himself realize the full extent of how much he had missed you.

The worst part of it all was knowing that it couldn’t last. He understood that you had a life of your own and duties to fulfill, just like he did. Shanks knew full well that he wouldn’t fit in the picture, and he told himself that he was fine with that, but why did it hurt?

Your words trailed off in the middle of sharing a story about the formation of the Revolutionary Army with Shanks. “You can’t look at me like that,” you told him, your voice low and guarded. “Like what?” He had no idea how he had been looking at you. “Like you still want me,” your voice had weakened, a vulnerability had crept in. The response took him by surprise but he recovered quickly.

“Would that really be so bad?”

He was right… would it really be so bad?

few quick things: i love sillies who don't know how to deal with emotions in a healthy productive way, i have made the executive decision that their love is like riding a bike, you never forget it, also i totally cried writing this lmao, my bad

i love you all and thank you for reading, don't forget to drink water and have a good day (or go to sleep idk)

masterlist | silly things | directory

#pretty sure this is my first request too so that's exciting #shanks x reader #one piece x reader #x reader #canon post #request #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #gn reader

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 3 months ago

Note

Hi hi! Do you still Write for tmnt? If not, just ignore this ask. And if yes, could I mayhaps get some Bayverse!leo x reader hcs on how he would help his partner out when they’re on their period?

YES I SURE AM, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!

this’ll be a fun little fic to kick off the comeback, I hope you like it! <33

Bayverse! Leonardo Period HC's

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Leo knows aunt flow is here before you do

unfortunately, he could tell something was off with you before he even really understood what they were to begin with

the first or second time you had gotten it while you were hanging out with the boys at the lair, Leo had no idea that’s what it was

and YOU had no idea that he knew, because well,

pheromones give you away (and the obvious, slow growing mood swings)

sweet boy is already prepped

which is why he expects your polite decline to come down to the lair for board game night

instead, you ask if he can come swing by your apartment for a little while

he figures the cramps have kicked in already

Leo knows all apparently 🙄

(unfortunately, he really does)

you’re curled up on your small sofa and holding your stomach for dear life when he gets there

you want to cry when you see he’s got a hot drink and some takeout in hand

has your order memorized :(

he gets you all set up on the coffee table, and then lifts you easily, to lay you on his plastron while he sprawls out on the couch

doesn’t say much

just runs his fingers through your hair while you snuggle into him

also, my boy does not PLAY about taking your medicine

Midol, Tylenol, ibuprofen

TAKE YOUR DAMN MEDICINE

will literally sit and stay with you until he sees you swallow it

also wants you to get as much rest as you can

even if you’ve slept half the day on a weekend and get up to piss

“you need to lay down!”

“i also need to empty my bladder, Lee”

loves making you tea

mother hen has all the natural remedies !!

he’s got all his fancy tea shit at the lair

but if you can’t leave your place, he’ll raid your cabinets and suddenly become a barista??

hello???

leo shares his heating blanket you got him for his birthday, and holds you till the cramps subside

ugh so sooo gentle

even though you can still get through every-day tasks, Leo insists on helping you do EVERYTHING when he’s around

i like to think it has to do with an instinct of protecting an injured animal

he’s scrambling around you and trying to help as much as he can

even though you’re standing like “🧍‍♀️” in the kitchen, perfectly fine, while you wait for your microwave ramen to get done

it’s the thought that counts, okay? 😭

won’t let his brothers rough house with you

even though you’re completely capable

he's scolding Mikey for lifting you in the air

“Sis, it is NOT that serious”

lots of forehead kisses from this boy

*kicking my feet*

also, if Leo can’t check in on you on patrol, he’s spam texting April to

she just texts you

[you doing okay?]

[im good lmao]

[okay good lol]

we love the effort

overall, Leo’s just a worried mess

but he’s got you !!! <33

just a big ol’ sweetie

[Thank you SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUESTTTT!!!! I hope it meets your expectations, I'm trying to ease my way back into writing again, and this was a great start 💕🩷💓 leave your likes and reblogs if you enjoyed and want more!! My request inbox is always open!!!!! Love yas!]

tag list ( @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell )

#xreader #tmnt bayverse #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo #headcanons #period #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt

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kathlare · 21 days ago

Note

Same anon here lol, I was also wondering if you could write a part where Lando and Amelie get drunk and they’re all over each other just super cheesy and fluffy and cute, I need the love in my heart rn :) also I love ur writing it’s absolutely amazing 💖 I’m so happy every time a new part is posted

Ahh hii again!! ��💖 Thank you so much for your sweet words, they seriously mean the world to me!! I’m so happy you’re enjoying the story 🫶 And here it is—what you asked for: a drunk, cheesy, fluffy, love-filled moment between Lando and Amelie 💕 I hope it gives you all the warm feelings you were craving!! Let me know what you think, and if you ever have more ideas, my inbox is always open! 💌

lay all your love on me

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando take a well-earned break from the chaos of their worlds, basking in sun, wine, and affection by the sparkling shores of Lake Como.

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

March 28th, 2025 - Lake Como, Italy

liked by lanmielieforever, f1babe_who, and others

lanmelieupdates: Lando & Amelie having lunch in beautiful Lake Como today with Amelie’s sister and other members of her tour crew.

View all 37,912 comments

f1couplegoalsx: Lake Como looks good on them, but not as good as they look on each other 😏 → lanmielieforever: @f1couplegoalsx LITERALLY. They’re the cutest duo.

racingfan69: okay but imagine being that food tho 😭🍴

f1loverz: Amelie’s sister is probably wondering why they’re so obsessed with each other 😆 → f1babe_who: @f1loverz she’s probably just used to it by now 😂

amiesupporter: No but seriously, when are they going to just adopt me into their friend group??? → lanmielove_: @amiesupporter I’m first in line 😤

beepbeepf1: The way they both glow when they’re together 😍

rachelslovef1: Who’s their waiter tho?? Like… can I apply for that job? → lucaslamlovers: @rachelslovef1 I’ll take the shift if you’re not available 👀

lanmielie_4life: I’m just here for the soft vibes.

danielricciardofan: Can we just take a moment to appreciate the fact that they're living their best lives while people are busy hating? Legends. → f1beautyqueen: @danielricciardofan facts, they’re just vibing, let them be happy! ✌️

hateralert: We get it, they’re cute, but can someone explain why they always look so perfect?

f1faves: Y’all know that when they're together, it’s like a whole different level of cute. Not fair, honestly. 😭 → lanmielieforever: @f1faves we don’t make the rules, we just follow them 😂

xxclairexx: Amelie’s glow up from the winter is EVERYTHING ✨

nobrofan: So when are we getting the Lake Como wedding? 💍💘 → lanmielove4life: @nobrofan bet they’d be the cutest couple to marry in Italy. 😍

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

The sun hung lazily over Lake Como, casting a warm golden sheen over the water, glittering like a thousand tiny mirrors. A soft breeze rustled through the olive trees as Amelie leaned back in her chair, sunglasses slipping down her nose, a grin spread wide across her face. Her curls were tied up in a loose bun, a few strands falling against her cheeks, sun-kissed and flushed from laughter — and wine. So much wine.

—No, no, listen— she said, half-slurring, pointing her glass at Elysia —I’m just saying, if we all moved here and lived in a giant villa like The White Lotus, we’d either be dead or married within a month. No in-between.—

Elysia burst out laughing, leaning into Joe, who looked content just sipping his Aperol and letting the chaos unfold. Callum rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, shaking his head like a dad trying not to smile, while Lando sat beside Amelie, arm draped lazily over the back of her chair. His hand occasionally wandered into her hair or brushed against her bare shoulder, casual and unconscious, like he couldn’t not touch her.

He was just as tipsy, if not worse, his accent getting stronger by the minute.

—Babe— he said, his voice low and boyish, —you’re literally glowing. I swear to God, I’m gonna combust.—

Amelie turned to face him, squinting against the sun, nose scrunching in a way that made Lando feel like his heart was doing cartwheels.

—That’s just the wine, Lan. Or heatstroke. Or your stupid compliments.—

—No, it’s you— he leaned in, pressing a soft, exaggerated kiss to her cheek —it's all you, sunshine. Can’t help it if I’m madly, pathetically obsessed with you.—

—Ew— Jack called out from across the table, tossing a piece of bread at them. —You two are fucking gross.—

—Thank you, Jacky— Amelie said sweetly, catching the bread and taking a bite. —That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.—

They were in a quiet, tucked-away restaurant right by the water, all rough stone walls and hanging flowers, the kind of place you’d never find unless someone local told you about it. Plates of pasta, grilled fish, and colorful salads littered the table, along with half-drunk bottles of wine and empty Negroni glasses.

The afternoon sun had made everyone lazy and loose, and the wine had made them affectionate and reckless.

Lando, who had been tracing lazy circles on Amelie’s knee, leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She snorted immediately.

—You’re such a pervert,— she whispered back, laughing as she pushed his face away, but her cheeks were already pink.

—You love it— he grinned, eyes sparkling. —Admit it.—

—Yeah, okay, maybe a little— she leaned in, eyes heavy-lidded —but you’re gonna regret that when I post your drunk karaoke video later.—

—You wouldn’t.—

—Try me.—

And then, because she was tipsy and chaotic and very much herself, an idea sparked in her head. A brilliant, evil, hilarious idea.

She pulled her phone out of her little Dior purse and nudged Lando’s shoulder.

—Lan, can I borrow your phone real quick? Gonna AirDrop you something.—

—Yeah, of course— he handed it over without thinking, too busy flirting and wiping crumbs off her lip with his thumb.

While he turned to ask Joe something about the wine, Amelie unlocked his phone and navigated straight to his settings. Giggling under her breath, she scrolled through her hidden album — the one marked with a little 🔐 emoji — and picked the one.

It was a tasteful one, or at least tasteful by her standards. She was naked, yes, but lying on her stomach on the bed, her legs bent at the knees and crossed in the air, head turned toward the camera with a mischievous grin. The sheet was barely covering her backside, sunlight pouring through the window, catching the warm glow of her skin and the mess of curls around her shoulders.

She looked like summer and sin.

A chef’s kiss of thirst trap art.

She set it as Lando’s lock screen with a devilish grin, locked the phone, and handed it back to him with the casual cool of someone who had absolutely not just committed digital war.

—Here you go, love,— she said, sweet as gelato, taking another sip of wine.

Lando blinked at her, suspicious.

—What’d you do?— he asked, narrowing his eyes.

—What makes you think I did anything?— Amelie batted her lashes.

—Because I know that face. That’s your “I’m about to ruin your life but look adorable while doing it” face.—

She only grinned wider.

But before he could press further, Elysia started telling some long-winded story about how Jack once got kicked out of a club in Ibiza for dancing too hard, and the attention shifted.

Lando forgot, for a minute. Or rather, he was too distracted by the way Amelie’s bare leg was pressed against his under the table, or how she kept leaning into him every time she laughed, like gravity had a personal agenda.

Until he picked up his phone.

He was trying to check the time — innocent, simple, unassuming.

And then boom.

There she was.

Naked.

On his fucking lock screen.

He choked.

Actually choked.

A splutter of air, a wheeze, and then the sound of him slamming the phone face-down on the table like it had personally attacked him.

—Jesus fucking Christ, Amelie,— he hissed under his breath, wide-eyed.

—Oops,— she said, sipping her wine with the most fake-innocent smile imaginable. —Must’ve been airdropped by accident.—

—You are such a menace.—

—You love me.—

—Not when my lock screen is your ass in front of your entire family, no.—

—Mmm, well maybe if you’re good, I’ll change it to something more appropriate later.—

He gave her a look. The kind that was equal parts exasperated, horny, and completely whipped.

Callum, seated across from them, glanced up suspiciously.

—You alright, Lando? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.—

—Nope!— Lando said, voice a pitch too high. —Just uh, got a... notification. Work stuff.—

Amelie stifled a laugh, covering her mouth as she reached for another breadstick.

He leaned in, whispering through gritted teeth.

—You’re a little shit. You know that? I’m gonna get you back for this.—

—Promises, promises,— she whispered back, brushing her lips over the corner of his jaw, slow and teasing.

He groaned.

—Fuckin’ hell.—

Meanwhile, Jack was busy flicking olives at Joe, and Elysia had somehow managed to convince Callum to order a limoncello round, so the chaos remained blissfully undisturbed.

The drinks kept flowing, and the sun began its slow descent over the lake, casting golden light across the table. At some point, Amelie ended up fully in Lando’s lap, her wine glass in one hand and her other arm slung around his neck like it was the most natural place in the world.

—You know— she said, slurring slightly, eyes sleepy with affection —I like this. Like, all of it. You, me, this lake, this pasta... your stupid hair.—

He laughed, curling his arms tighter around her waist.

—My hair’s great. You’ve said so yourself. In fact, didn’t you say it was “hot enough to ruin lives”?—

—That was one time, and I was drunk.—

—You’re drunk now.—

—Shhh,— she whispered, nuzzling his cheek. —You ruin lives. It’s the combo. Hair plus accent. Plus you being... you.—

—God, I love you when you’re like this,— he murmured against her skin. —All soft and clingy and wine-soaked.—

—You love me all the time.—

—True.—

He kissed her temple, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. She turned her face to meet him halfway, lips brushing his in a kiss that was more smile than anything else. Warm and a little messy. Familiar.

—You’re disgusting,— Callum muttered, taking a bite of his tiramisu. —Do that after lunch.—

—Let them be— Elysia giggled, clearly tipsy now too —It’s nice seeing her this happy.—

Amelie leaned her head on Lando’s shoulder, her curls brushing his cheek. The sun dipped lower, the light turning golden-pink, and somewhere in the distance, music floated in from a passing boat.

She sighed contentedly.

—Lan?—

—Yeah, sunshine?—

—Promise me we’ll always do stupid shit like this. Just... sneak away and drink wine and be in love and annoy the shit out of everyone we know.—

He kissed the top of her head.

—Deal. As long as you promise not to traumatize me with naked pictures in front of your entire bloodline ever again.—

—No promises,— she whispered, already giggling again.

And Lando, completely and hopelessly in love, just held her tighter and let it go.

Because honestly?

She was worth every ounce of the chaos.

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

liked by f1fangirlz, wheelyfastwitch, and others

ln4updates: Lando was spotted enjoying a boat ride around Lake Como today with Amelie and her family 🛥️☀️

View all 42,217 comments

lanmelieslay: not Lando on the boat like he's already the son-in-law 😭 → formulaloverxoxo: @lanmelieslay he probs calls her mom "mami" already I’m screaming

wheelyfastwitch: he passed the vibes check with the fam fr → mclarenmutual: @wheelyfastwitch confirmation they adopted him

daymangf: this man living a romcom life in Lake Como like okay go off

f1fangirlz: i’d literally cry if a man took me on a boat with my family → softlaunchdetective: @f1fangirlz girl that’s wife behavior

charlescarlover: y’all romanticize anything they do, he’s just in italy

mclarenmami: this is Lando’s Roman Holiday and I’m here for it

lanmeliehater420: bet they called the paparazzi themselves 💀

lanmelie4life: this is soooo couplecore i can’t breathe → tiresandtenderness: @lanmelie4life she’s in her lake como era and i’m just in my broke era

maximumbaguette: imagine third-wheeling them rn. the PDA must be INTENSE

sunsetsonsoftlaunches: i hope ppl give them a lil privacy tho 🥲 → kindkartingkid: @sunsetsonsoflaunches fr they’re not zoo animals, let them vibe in peace

f1gogogo: they’re like "just a normal couple" except one’s an f1 driver and the other’s a global pop star lol

speedyspaghetti: why does he look like he’s about to propose in every pic?? → loveontrack: @speedyspaghetti if he doesn’t by summer i’m starting a petition

mclarenmaddie: okay but let them BREATHE for once

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

The sun was warm against Amelie's skin as she leaned her head against Lando’s shoulder, the soft hum of the boat engine mixing with her light laughter and the gentle ripple of Lake Como’s glittering waters. The wine from lunch still buzzed in her veins, making everything feel slow and silly and golden. They were a little tipsy—well, she was more than a little—and Lando hadn’t let go of her since they stepped on the boat.

She had a ridiculous straw hat on, one she had snatched from Elysia’s bag on the way out, far too big for her face but so undeniably her. And Lando? He was obsessed. Couldn’t stop looking at her like she was some dream he was still shocked had come true.

—You’re literally the most annoying person I’ve ever met,— she murmured, her words slurred with fondness, as he snapped yet another photo of her, his phone practically glued to his hand.

—Don’t care,— he grinned, angling the phone again. —You’re gonna thank me when you’re old and wrinkly and wish you looked this fit.—

—Fit? That’s what you’re going with?—

—Well, sexy sounds inappropriate when you’re wearing that,— he gestured at the floppy hat with a smug little smirk. —But for the record, yes. Very sexy. Stupid levels of sexy.—

Amelie groaned dramatically, hiding her face in his chest. He laughed, soft and low, the sound vibrating against her cheek. She could feel his fingers on the bare skin of her back, just under the hem of her linen top, tracing idle shapes with the care of someone who had the whole world in their arms and didn’t want to mess it up.

—You good, mi amor?— he asked after a quiet moment, kissing her temple. —You’re not dizzy or anything?—

She shook her head, eyes fluttering shut. —Just a little sun-drunk. And wine-drunk. And Lando-drunk.—

He chuckled. —That’s not even clever.—

—Shut up, Lan, I’m poetic when I want to be.—

—You’re poetic when you’re drunk.—

—Facts.—

Lando adjusted the position of the wide beach towel they were lounging on, pulling her further into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her legs stretched across the bench seat, her bare toes brushing the boat’s edge. Every so often, he’d glance down to make sure she was drinking enough water, occasionally nudging the bottle to her lips himself.

—You’re staring again, Norris,— she said, peeking one eye open.

He didn’t deny it. Just smirked. —I like looking at you. I’m allowed. Boyfriend privileges.—

—Ew. Who let you be my boyfriend?—

—You did, dumbass. After making me wait literal years.—

She laughed, rolling her eyes but clearly melting into his hold. —You were such a little fanboy. I should’ve known.—

—You had no idea,— he said, tightening his arms around her. —I was obsessed. You ruined my standards for all other girls.—

—Good,— she smiled smugly, poking his chest. —You’re stuck with me now.

—Thank fuck.—

He kissed her then, slow and lazy, like they had all the time in the world. Her fingers curled around his jaw as she leaned into it, lips parted, sigh escaping against his mouth. The kiss turned a little giggly halfway through, because she tasted like wine and strawberries and sunscreen, and he tasted like her favorite kind of trouble.

—Mmm, you taste like summer,— she whispered.

—You taste like chaos,— he countered, brushing her hair off her cheek. —But like... good chaos. Like a hurricane I want to drown in.—

—That was dramatic, even for you.—

—You love it.—

—I really do.—

They sat there in the silence of their own little bubble, the soft slap of water against the boat, distant laughter from the shore, and the occasional bird call the only interruptions. Lando kept taking photos—her profile in the sun, the way her fingers dangled lazily over the edge, her half-lidded eyes as she sipped water. He’d pretend he wasn’t doing anything and then smile proudly when she caught him.

—Are you gonna make a secret album or something?— she teased.

—Already did. You’re the only thing in it.—

Her breath caught just a little. —Lan...—

He shrugged, but his ears went pink. —Just... I dunno. I like remembering things. Especially you. When you’re like this. Happy. Calm. Not worrying about the world.—

She reached up, cupping his face. Her thumb brushed just beneath his eye, and her voice dropped to a whisper. —You make me feel safe. That’s why I’m like this.—

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Instead, he pulled her close again, his hand slipping beneath her shirt to feel her heartbeat against his palm. He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky about it—just needing the reassurance that she was okay. That she was really there.

—You’ve been eating well?— he asked quietly, careful not to sound pushy.

She nodded, nuzzling into his neck. —Callum made me a plate earlier. You saw. I ate most of it.—

—I know. Just checking.—

She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. —I promise. I’m doing better.—

He nodded, brushing a kiss to her nose. —I just worry. You know that.—

—You don’t have to all the time.—

—Can’t help it. You’re my girl.—

She melted. Again. Every time he said that—my girl—it did something to her chest she couldn’t explain. Like something old and cracked was being carefully glued back together.

—I love you,— she said softly.

His eyes widened just a bit—like every time she said it, it hit him fresh.

—I love you more, Ames.—

—Not possible.—

—Very possible. You’re literally ridiculous.—

—And yet, you’re obsessed.—

—Hopelessly.—

She giggled again and pulled him down for another kiss, tasting laughter and sun and safety. They stayed wrapped in each other like that for a long time, the boat slowly coasting along the edge of the lake. No rush. No noise. Just them. Lando didn’t stop touching her—not in a possessive way, just like he needed constant confirmation that she was real. He’d tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, adjust the hem of her shirt so her skin wouldn’t burn, kiss her forehead when she looked too quiet for too long.

And she let him.

Because being loved like this—so thoroughly, so openly, so stupidly—was something she never thought she’d get. Not like this. Not with someone who knew her shadow sides and still chose her every single day.

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

liked by jackdayman, emiliamernes, and others

ameliedayman: olive oil

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jackdayman: not you catching me mid-haunting 😭 → ameliedayman: @jackdayman you said “boo” and he didn’t even flinch 💀

lanmelieuniverse: THEY'RE LITERALLY THE ROMCOM → slowburnsoftie: @lanmelieuniverse like ugh give me this energy now

lando: delete slide 15 i look deceased → ameliedayman: @lando ur cutest when unconscious 💋 → lando: @ameliedayman what about when i’m driving us through tuscan hills?? → ameliedayman: @lando ok yeah u win 🚗💨❤️

maxfewtrell: you let him operate a motorbike??? → ameliedayman: @maxfewtrell i had 3 olives and no fear

oliveyouamelie: this caption is so unserious i love her → daymangirlie: @oliveyouamelie i love that she just lives her little whimsical life

gigihadid: you’re living inside a 90s italian movie and i’m obsessed → ameliedayman: @gigihadid ok but WHERE is my gigi cameo 😤

latteandlando: how is she cute and funny and in love like ??? → peachyf1energy: @latteandlando god gives his prettiest girls everything i fear

ameliestan444: the way haters stay mad and she stays posting her bf like it’s a full-time job 💅 → gridteaqueen: @gridteaqueen as she should 😌 get ur lil gelato and ignore the noise

girliesforgossip: ik people say “relationship goals” but THIS. this is it.

florencepugh: the olive oil of it all… poetic. → ameliedayman: @florencepugh i write my captions like it’s 2013 tumblr, thank u

charles_leclerc: you let him drive?? brave → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc i said “live fast” and closed my eyes 🫠 → lando: @charles_leclerc don’t act like you’re not the most chaotic driver i know

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sundrop-writes · 7 months ago

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hii i’m very happy you write for isaac! and i loved your last comforting fic, how they relate and care for each other without judging and the reader being his anchor 🤍

i’d really love to see more of him, so can i request some headcanons on how you see him being in bed and his kinks and all that? thanks for considering 💕💕

I purposefully went looking through my inbox for something Isaac related because I fucking miss my boy and I've been thinking about him non-stop. So if anybody reading this has any Isaac related requests, please send them my way. Cause I think this is the last Isaac specific thing I have in my inbox??

I'm so glad that you loved that fic! The second that I started watching episodes with Isaac, I immediately clicked with him and I knew he was going to be my favourite character. (Yes, I have a thing for abused characters for deeply personal reasons. Stiles will never be my favourite character because he has too good of a relationship with his father.) And I have thought a lot about him sexually, so I do have a lot of ideas for this post lmao. Prepare for rambling.

Isaac Lahey Intimacy and Kink Headcanons

Okay so first of all - Isaac is incredibly touch starved.

He hasn't had a kind physical touch in a long time (probably not since his mother was alive), and though the abuse he experienced makes him somewhat touch-averse, he is still incredibly touched starved and needy. He would need someone who understands what he's been through and can navigate the emotions of it, and even once his partner does, early on into a relationship, he would be incredibly hesitant to express his needs. He is not used to voicing his needs or being cared for, so even doing something as simple as reaching out for a hug because he craves the physical affection would be very alien to him.

But once he starts to get over that bridge and starts on the path to healing from his trauma and once you start to teach him that wanting and needing physical affection is perfectly normal - he would be intensely clingy. He would be the definition of a koala boyfriend. He would be the boyfriend who cuddles close to you all the time, wants to hold your hand constantly, always has an arm around your shoulders or your waist in public.

Isaac is not the type who is very into PDA - because of the abuse he experienced, he is still shy about showing his most raw self and his deepest emotions to others. And he feels like expressing a lot of PDA feels like being 'too private' in front of others, but he also balances that with the need to be constantly close to you. So the PDA he does express with you is more 'innocent' things like hand-holding or holding you close with an arm around you.

Isaac also loves it when you return these subtle touches. One of his favourite things is when you comb your fingers through his hair or when you put a hand on his lower back to guide him around - something no one else has ever done because he is so tall and intimidating.

When it comes to sex - Isaac is more submissive. I think he is a switch, but he is very rarely dominant, and he only displays dominance for two reasons - using sex to channel his intense anger (when he knows that it's okay with his partner and that his partner does like rough, angry sex) (and this would be something he does on rare occasions - something done to avoid getting into fights and performing other violent outbursts), or when he is more emotionally closed off and he feels the need to become dominant to protect himself and protect his most intimate emotions. He would be dominant by default because he believes he needs to but up dominance as a front.

But when he is in a deeply intimate relationship where he opens up to someone and truly trusts them, he would become more submissive. He would love the feeling of slipping into sub space and being led by someone he knows he can fully trust. For a lot of his life, authority figures have neglected him, harmed him, and mislead him, so having a dom in his life who cares for him completely and only leads him to pleasure would be a very positive outlet, and something he wants to participate in a lot. Trusting you to be his dom would only make him fall deeper in love with you.

But not for a second would he be a pillow princess - Isaac is the Sub-Top. Even though he is submissive, he is still intensely active during sex. Especially because he can never full suppress his wolfish instincts (if anything, being in subspace make those instincts come out more for him) - so those animal instincts always makes sex more enjoyable for him when he satisfies the need to mark, claim, conquer.

Because the combination of subspace and his inner animal makes him so damn mindless, he needs you to guide him - otherwise he would just end up humping his pillow wildly and whining when he can't cum.

He has a huge praise kink - he will dissolve down into a puddle of needy whimpers if you call him 'good boy', and like I have said in other posts, I absolutely believe that he would have a kink for being called 'puppy'. Because he was verbally abused in addition to the physical abuse that he experienced, having a space where you lather him in praise so freely and speak only good things about him - it melts his brain in the best way. And though he would pretend to be embarrassed about it, he would also love it if you called him 'pretty' or used words to describe him that are more typically feminine.

He is incredibly possessive. When he is truly in love with someone, especially driven by his animal instincts, he wants them to be covered in his scent all the time - and he has a major biting and marking kink because of this. It's rare if you leave a sexual encounter with him not covered in bites and needy marks that he sucked into your skin. The first time he did this without thinking, he was incredibly worried that he hurt you and felt so guilty for doing so - but when you assured him that you loved it, and the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin only made the pleasure better, he was even more spurred on to continue it - to keep you marked up so that everyone would know who you belonged to.

Isaac is very into love making - he's not into complex sexual role-play, and usually, if the two of you have rough sex, it's just because he gets needy and gets carried away (or - as I said before - when he has a particular burst of anger). But for the most part, he loves the feeling of being deep inside of you, and loves to indulge in that feeling, sweet and slow.

He is also very into body worship - both with kissing all over you and showing his appreciation for your body, as well as receiving it (even when he thinks he doesn't deserve it). Some of his favourite moments with you are when he has been splayed out on his back, listening to your breathy voice tell him what a good boy he is while you kiss all over him and even leave little bites of your own (that always heal far too soon for his liking because of his werewolf healing).

The bulk of your relationship doesn't involve any hard kinks - like pain kink or orgasm denial, or any punishment and reward. Because of Isaac's past, you can't bring yourself to deem his behaviour 'good' or 'bad' and punish him for certain things. For the most part, whatever he asks for, he gets, and you are the dom who makes sure he is always safe and happy.

...

If you liked this, consider checking out my fic: Eager Little Puppy - Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!GN!Reader

Or take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for other fics and headcanons I have written for this fandom

#sundrop writes #requests #requested #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey headcanons #isaac lahey smut #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf smut

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ranikyani · 28 days ago

Text

📖 Introducing... Daddy's Library 📖

Officially starting a library to keep up with all the beautiful stories I've come across and have read or plan to read. Over time, and with the fandom’s help, I wish to create a central place to find and celebrate the stories starring our favorite London Boy Aaron Stone Pierre.

🔗direct link below the cut 💕

Library Selections:

📌 The Richmond Archives: A 3 part collection of fics starring Terry Richmond as a main character.

📌 The Alias Archives: A collection of fics where Aaron takes on a different name and identity

📌 The Aaron Archives: A collection of fics starring Terry Richmond as the main character

💬 Readers, this library is meant to be a space of appreciation and support. Let's keep the focus on celebrating Aaron, the amazing fics, and our writers who bring all of these incredible stories to life. (Should I do a library updates tag list?)

🔁💬 Engage Positively. Reblogs, Comments, and Encouraging Creators goes a long way in making the fandom a better place for everyone. There have been so many post about people wanting to quit or saying goodbye; Whether you’re reading many for the first time (like me) or re-reading your favorites, show your appreciation for fics you enjoyed reading!

🚫 No Drama, No Negativity. If you don't like a fic, either provide constructive criticism or just scroll. No need for unnecessary discourse - everyone is here to enjoy and share their love for Aaron in different ways.

💖 Respect the Writers. Writing takes time, effort, and vulnerability. If a story isn't your thing move on instead of tearing someone down. Constructive feedback is always welcome, rudeness is not. Fuck around and get blocked if you want to.

✍🏾 Writers, if I tag you and you wish for your work to be removed, or if I haven't gotten to your stories yet and you wish to be included sooner than later, please comment or message me! I finally figured out how to see my inbox.

I'm also open to suggestions for improving the library or adding categories. And of course - pls tag me in all Aaron/Terry/Alias fics!

At the end of the day , we're gathered here today because Aaron is a sugar pie honey bunch and we've all fantasied about Terry Richmond having one arm on neck one arm on frontal, let’s knock off the bullshit, blow a kiss to our writers, and let's make this fandom a space where people feel inspired✨, included💕, and valued🥂.

Happy reading & writing friends. Love you all, Mwah 💋

-signed a 20something type A oldest child with only child tendencies due to the age gap who now goes to work in person 5 days a week and is currently drowning in life and wants to come on here to escape in peace… 🙃

📚 Daddy's Library 📚

#ranireads💌#aaronpierre #terry richmond #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond smut #terry richmond x black reader #aaron pierre smut #aaron pierre x black!oc #terry richmond fanfiction #terry richmond x black!oc #terryrichmond #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond fic #rebel ridge

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therealcocoshady · 9 months ago

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Could you make a one shot where Marshall x Reader have been dating for almost 2 years, they start talking about kids and the thought of reader pregnant is a big turn on for him.

Author’s Note : Thank you for your request 💕. I hope you enjoy this ! ⭐️

If you like my writing and want to support it, here’s my Ko-Fi (I’m also open for commission. It’s like a request but that way you’re 100% sure I see it fast & indulge you 😉 - rn I have 200+ asks in my Inbox. Also, by commissioning my work, you’re literally helping a struggling neurodivergent student get by !).

Baby talk

You were the first one to be surprised when you felt it. The desire to have kids. You had never been a kid person. You had always found these tiny humans to be terribly underwhelming. To be fair, you didn’t hate them. But you never really understood what all the fuss surrounding babies was. Puppies ? Yes. Kittens ? Absolutely. Human babies ? Meh. When you were a kid yourself, you didn’t show an interest in babies and, as far as you could remember, you had never really enjoyed playing with dolls. And growing up, you hadn’t shown more of an interest in the topic of motherhood. Older people had told you you’d change your mind and eventually come to want kids of your own but you doubted it. When you became an adult and got into serious relationships, you had that talk with your partners and you told them you didn’t want to have children. You enjoyed your free time, being able to sleep until noon if you wanted to, the possibility of spending money on silly things like an impromptu girls trip to Vegas or a new handbag instead of diapers and an overpriced daycare. In your mind, it was clear that you weren’t meant to be a mother. You did have a lot of love and admiration for parents around you, but you didn’t envy them. So you built a child free life that was absolutely wonderful. Sure, it hurt a bit when your previous partner ended up breaking up with you because he changed his mind about kids and you didn’t. But you understood his decision and knew it was the right thing to do, rather than forcing yourself to have kids when you did not have any actual desire for it. You didn’t want to force yourself to live a life that did not resemble you, taking the risk of one day resenting the children you never wanted to raise in the first place. It all worked out in the end : your ex went on to marry a woman who, from what you heard, was wonderful and have a kid with her, and you ended up meeting the love of your life.

Marshall was everything you hoped to find in a partner. He was kind, funny, thoughtful, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and handsome. Yes, he was older than you, but he was definitely young at heart. If anything, you benefited from his experience in life. Also, him being older and having three grown-up children meant that he was « done with all of that », which was a relief. The feeling was mutual, his lack of desire for more kids having caused a couple of breakups for him as well. But just because the two of you decided not to have babies didn’t mean you didn’t have your hands full with them. Marshall was a loving uncle to his brother’s three kids and you were entering that stage of your life where all your friends were starting families. So whether it was a birthday party, a basketball game, a recital or a baby shower… you had your share of kid-related activities. You liked it though. More than you ever thought you would. Marshall being very family-oriented, he loved that you were involved with his family. Together, you built a perfect life. You had all the fun that came with being around kids, without the obligations. You were the fun aunt and uncle, who enjoyed spoiling other people’s kids rotten and playing with them, before happily handing them back to their parents and letting them handle the sugar crash and the noise caused by the toys you bought them. You thought you’d spend the rest of your life just like this, perfectly content, enjoying a peaceful existence with your boyfriend, with whom you would eventually grow old.

But then, without seeing it coming, you found yourself thinking about it. Wondering how you would look like with a baby bump. Pregnant ladies had always looked like aliens to you, but you started thinking you’d actually be cute, carrying a little baby. Marshall’s baby. A baby with the cutest nose, pouty lips and the most beautiful blue eyes. The thought of a baby that would be part you part Marshall had your heart melt. And you knew he’d be such a good baby daddy, too. Obviously, he had raised three amazing daughters he was very proud of, but he was also amazing with other people’s children. He was his nephews’ favorite person in the world and he was so great with your friends’ babies. So you found yourself thinking that, if you got accidentally pregnant, it wouldn’t be the worst thing on earth. Sure, it would be inconvenient, but maybe you’d keep it. Not that it would ever happen anyway, since you were more than diligent with birth control. Then, it turned into thinking about what your life would actually look like with a little one. And you figured that, what you would have found dreadful years ago, maybe wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d crush it as a soccer mom. Maybe there was actually something beautiful in having kids with someone you love, teaching them stuff and watching them grow up.

Then, one day, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You actually wanted to have kids. With Marshall. You were at the store, doing your weekly shopping. How you ended up in the baby aisle, you weren’t sure. But you found yourself mesmerized by the tiny items of clothing. Eventually, you came to your senses and mentally slapped yourself. You were with a man in his fifties, who already had his kids and did not want more. Now was not the time to change your mind. As if to imprint the thought in your brain, you went and stocked on condoms, buying a fuckton of them. The cashier even threw you a weird glance. You probably looked like you were doing a comparative study, getting a bit of everything from ribbed ones to flavored ones. Marshall chuckled when he saw them in the bag.

That’s a lot of condoms, he chortled.

Yeah, there was some kind of sale, you lied.

He shrugged it off and promised to put them to good use. You knew he would make good on his word and figured you just needed to have that silly idea banged out of your system. Except that it didn’t work. You went a few months without talking to him about it. But the more time went on, the more you realized you really wanted a baby with this man. You still liked the idea of having a flexible schedule and 9 hours of sleep a night. But you didn’t love it as much as you loved the idea of carrying this man’s offspring. And the more time went on, the harder it was not to talk to him about it. You dreaded this, though. Because you’d been on the receiving end of that conversation. Of not wanting kids and having someone you loved tell you that they wanted to start a family with you, and having to disappoint them and see the heartbreak in their eyes. So you put it off as long as you could. Until one evening, you weren’t able to hold yourself.

I think I want a baby, you blurted out when you walked in the kitchen while Marshall was cooking dinner.

You think you want what, baby ? He asked as he turned to you. Sorry, I didn’t hear you over the noise of that kitchen fan.

No, I said I-I think I want a baby, you repeated nervously.

You think you want a baby ? He repeated carefully.

I mean… yeah, you simply said.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. Clearly, you were taking him by surprise. He turned off the fan and the kitchen stove, before walking to you.

That’s new, he said matter-of-factly.

Kind of, you admitted. I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.

So you don’t think you to have want a baby. You know you want to have one, he pointed out.

Y-yeah. I’m sorry, you mumbled as you looked down.

For how long have you thought about it ? He asked.

I’m not sure, you admitted. Does it matter ?

I thought you didn’t want to be a mom, he said. That you were perfectly happy with being an aunt. That it was the best of both worlds. That’s what you said.

I know, you replied. And I meant it. I’m as surprised as you are, really. But then I thought about how I’d react if I got pregnant. And I realized I wouldn’t mind that. Having a baby that’s part you and part me.

Oh wow, he said as he scratched the back of his head.

Yeah, you hummed. And I thought it was just something random and that I’d forget about it. But I can’t. And it’s been months now, and I think you have great genes and that our baby would be really cute. And Target has the most adorable baby clothes and I know condoms are cheaper than a college education but there were little bunnies on the pajamas I saw the other day and I also found out that they make baby Jordan sneakers that look like the ones you love and-

You caught yourself rambling and stopped talking. Now, you weren’t making any sense and you were just dumping the whole thing on him. Probably not the best way to go about it. He was staring at you with an amused look on his face.

I’m sorry, you said will a sad voice. I know you’re done with it. We’ve talked about it and I know it really sucks that I’m changing my mind but I needed to tell you because I’ve been thinking about it a lot and-

Do you plan on letting me speak ? He asked with a smile.

Yes. Sorry.

Ok, he chuckled. I have a few questions. Is there a reason why you changed your mind ?

Well… you, I guess, you shrugged. I mean, I love you, and I see what an amazing father, what a great uncle you are.

Ok, he said. And, another question : is that something you want ? Or is it something you need ?

I don’t know, you admitted. I’m really happy with our life just the way it is. I don’t need a baby to be fulfilled and for my life to have meaning. But I can’t stop thinking of how much I’d like a baby with you.

Ok, he hummed. So… it’s not something you’d break up over ?

No, you said. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t think I want a baby if I can’t have it with you. You’re the reason I want one. Because the baby I have in my mind… he has your eyes, your nose and your smile.

Meh. Doesn’t sound too cute, he chuckled. If anything, it sounds like an ad for contraception.

Oh, come on, you giggled.

But… he ? He asked with a smile.

Sometimes she, you corrected. I never really wanted kids so I don’t really care, I guess. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just dump this whole thing on you… we both know this talk sucks. But I couldn’t really keep it to myself. I needed to tell you. I’m sorry.

Quit apologizing, babe, he said reassuringly. I’m glad you told me.

Really ? You asked nervously.

Of course, he replied. I can tell it hasn’t been easy for you.

You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent. You definitely felt lighter after telling him, even though it didn’t really change anything.

So… can I get back to you on that ? He finally asked.

Huh ?! You asked as you looked up from his chest.

I think I’m gonna need a bit of time to think about it, he continued. I can’t promise I’ll say yes. But I’ll consider it.

Wait… seriously ? You asked in shock.

Isn’t that why you brought it up in the first place ? He mused.

I don’t know, you said. I guess I mostly expected you to convince me it was a terrible idea. I mean, you’ve broken up with people over that.

So have you, he pointed out. But it’s you. It’s us. What we have is different. I feel like my family’s complete so I never really wanted to have another kid. But I’m in love with you. And if there’s anyone I’d give it a shot with… it’s you.

Ok, you said with an emotional smile.

I’m not saying yes to anything, though, he warned. Don’t get your hopes up.

But you’re not saying no, you pointed out with a smile.

I’m not, he agreed. Because even though having kids can be tough… it’s pretty great, too. And I know you’d be a great mom.

You flashed him a smile and buried your face in his chest. The simple fact that he was willing to consider it because he loved you filled your heart with joy.

You didn’t really bring up the topic in the following weeks, but you could see a change in Marshall’s demeanor whenever someone around you talked about kids. You could absolutely tell he was thinking about it. You weren’t too sure what the best way to go about it was. Of course, you were curious to know how he felt about it, what was on his mind. But you didn’t want to be annoying and press him on the matter, so you figured that it was probably better to wait for him to get back to you on that, once his mind was made up.

Waiting was trying, though. Because in the meantime, you had to watch him interact with countless babies and young children, feeling like your ovaries exploded. Patience is a virtue and that waiting period was definitely an opportunity for you to practice it. Thankfully, it finally came to an end when you came back from work to Marshall waiting for you in the living room, with a bouquet of roses on the table, as well as a paper bag. You greeted him and thanked him for the nice gesture.

What’s the occasion ? You asked.

Since when do I need a special occasion to treat my woman to some roses and a present ? He asked back.

Touché, you giggled. Thank you my love. Can I open the bag ?

Not yet, he said. I want you to have a look at this first.

He handed you some papers and you skimmed through it. It was a printing of his schedule for the foreseeable future. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

That’s, erm, fine ? You said, unsure of what he was expecting you to say.

It’s my schedule, he said. For the next two years.

I see that, you chuckled. I’m just not sure why you’re showing it to me ? You usually don’t consult me when it comes to your work schedule.

As you can see, I’ve moved a couple of trips that were already planned, he explained as he pointed to a few dates. Meaning that I’ll be going to LA a little bit more in the upcoming three months. But after that, no more work trips and I put a hold on the performance planning. I’ll stay in Detroit.

Ok ? You said - still not grasping what he was getting at. That’s nice. But why did you change the schedule ? Is there a specific reason why you need to stay here ?

Apparently, when you’re trying to have a baby with your woman, it’s better to be in the same city, he grinned.

You stared at him in shock, your mouth slightly agape. Marshall was smiling from ear to ear. Next thing he knew, you were in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, peppering your face with kisses.

Oh my God, you said emotionally. Really ? Oh I love you so much, Marshall !

I love you too, he hummed.

I can’t believe it, you whispered. Wait- What’s in the bag ?

Open it, he chuckled.

You reached for it and saw it contained a bunch of ovulation prediction kits, pregnancy tests, some folic acid and some lube.

Apparently, these are the basic essentials for trying to conceive, he commented.

You’re amazing, you said with the biggest smile on your face. So… we’re doing this ? We’re making a baby ?

If you haven’t changed your mind, yeah, he nodded.

As a response, you threw yourself in his arms and kissed him passionately. He chuckled into the kiss and cupped your face, staring at you lovingly.

I’ll give you the cutest baby, you promised.

I have no doubt, he grinned.

Do you think I’ll be a pretty pregnant lady ? You mused.

Are you kidding me ? He asked. God, you’re going to be so hot. The thought of you carrying my baby… You have no idea the things it does to me.

Oh yeah ? Like what ? You asked defiantly. Show-

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, Marshall had you pinned to the couch and was grinding against you. It didn’t matter that you were both fully clothed, you could feel his excitement through the fabric.

I’m gonna fill your pretty pussy, he promised. And I’m gonna make a pretty mama out of you.

Mmmyes, you whimpered.

Gonna give you a pretty belly, he continued. I can’t wait to see you carry our child. Can’t wait to start trying.

When ? You asked pleadingly.

How about now ? He whispered in your ear.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #Eminem One Shot

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