#this one means so much to me I can’t express

[hwallazia]

SWEET, SWEET VENGEANCE – 최산

⋆ synopsis. you give san a taste of his own medicine, taking the lead and setting the tone yourself.

pairing. boyfriend! san & fem! reader.

wc. 0,9k

warnings. sub! san & mean-ish dom! reader, suggestive language ofc, nipple sucking/play, cowgirl position (riding), petnames (love, good boy, sannie & more), dacryphilia?, implied edging, creampie, teasing, praise, dirty talk, slight overstimulation, so much whining, just a normal scenario of a desperate sannie <3

nic’s notes ⋆ three san fics in a row—sorry not sorry tho! he’s the one who posted that slutty pic & i just couldn’t resist— oh, slight update, i’m currently working on a hongjoong ask i recently got, so look forward to it <3

okay but imagine riding san so fucking harshly that you have him whining and panting for air underneath you. 

he’s the prettiest babbling mess and his desperation’s only growing stronger with each passing second, indecisive hands roaming all over your naked, bouncing body. the pleasure is so great that he can no longer feel his fingertips, so his hands surrender and fall helplessly to the messy sheets.

tears decorate his frowned expression, and sweat streams down the sides of his face as messy locks of hair stick to his glistening forehead. he stopped breathing through his nose some time ago, the exhaustion so overwhelming that he can only draw breath through parted lips. occasionally, his wet tongue flicks over the rim of his lips, moisturizing them slightly.

“y-yn, love— mgh!” your warm walls clench around his length purposely, stealing the words from his mouth; a proud smirk appears on your lips at the delightful sound. the clash of his hips with the wet flesh of your ass deafens him. “please.. slow down a b-bit!” his words grow in pitch, a squeaky tone replacing his baritone. 

“don’t wanna.” you spit out, your tone drowning in nonchalance. “just shut up and take it, that’s what you always say to me, right?”

he sobs, his voice cracking. “b-but—“

“no buts, sannie.” your hand flies towards his sweaty cheekbone, your reassuring thumb providing sweet ministrations. a lovely, yet devilish smile curves your lips up. “take it like a good boy.”

san whines and curses under his breath, his head rocking backward as precious tears escape from the corner of his half-lidded eyes. his frown deepens as the delicious, purple veins of his neck pulsate strongly; his lids almost falling shut. he babbles something you can’t quite understand. “what d’ya say, baby?”

he bats his wet eyelashes as his pleading eyes peer into yours, almost like a silent imploring. “this ‘s torture” he rambles, hiccuping a tad bit in mid-sentence. 

“oh really?” you stop your movements before pushing—more like forcing your body upwards, easing san’s hardened cock from the warm embrace of your walls. his length immediately bobs up and slaps against his chiseled abs, throbbing helplessly. the soft plea that escapes his lips penetrates your core almost violently. “‘cause it seems to me that you’re..” your index ghosts over his velvety, leaking tip, the strong jolt of san’s hips almost making you lose your balance. “enjoying this. maybe a bit too much.” 

“mhn! baby—babybabybaby” he pathetically cries out—words falling off his lips like a mantra, failing completely at trying to keep his shuddering bottom lip trapped between his perfect row of white teeth. “please just go slower, you’re g-gonna make me—hmph!”

san’s words get caught inside his throat the moment you slam your hips down in a swift motion, more tears pooling in his eyes. his lower body shifts relentlessly, almost as if he’s trying to escape from the overwhelming stimulation. a sinister chuckle rumbles through your chest before you slap his thigh harshly. “stop running and take it like i know you can.”

and that stirs something deep within him, a soft stroke to his submissive facet. you know he can take it, so there’s no excuse, no reason behind all that whiny and pathetic behavior of his. 

sharply contoured arms wrap around your bouncing figure, fingers clutching your stuttering hips, ‘cause you’re no different from him. you’re close to the edge as well, but you can’t afford to let the mask slip. 

exasperated sighs and soft cries pour out of san’s swollen lips, his phalanges clinging to your body for dear life. he can’t bring himself to stare down to where your bodies connect, ‘cause he’d cum right then and there. instead, he buries his face in your breasts, spitting and attaching his warm tongue to your perky nipples.

you slow down the pace a tad bit, so he can comfortably suck on your tits. how considerate of you. “fuuuck, that’s a good boy.” you coo at him, stroking his hair lovingly. in response, san’s cheek nuzzles even deeper into the soft flesh of your chest, humming delightfully as the petname strikes a spark into his limbs. 

now, you can’t bring yourself just to be mean to him and deny him another release. your soothing hand travels from his nape to his cheekbone. you lift his head before speaking. “y’ wanna cum, pretty boy?”

san writhes beneath you, wiggling his hips like a dog. “yesyesyes” he gulps dryly. a painful cough follows his pleas. “yes please—i’ll do whatever.” he rasps with a blissed-out expression decorating his beautiful face.

“then let go, angel.” 

with shaky breaths, he meets your thrusts by lifting his hips powerfully. the ambition to finally surrender and let go clouds his senses, as his back arches beautifully. his jaw drops, his limbs go numb and his cheeks hollow when he bursts inside you, white shoots of cum painting your insides white. you cum not long after, your convulsing walls strangle his poor softened girth; san let out whiny and shuddering whimpers in response. “f-fuck baby stop—stop please, ‘s too much.”

you stare down at his doe-eyes as your malicious mind schemes one final tease. you pinch his hardened nipple as you simultaneously clamp down his cock. san’s body jolts upward while you coax one final, delicious moan from him.

he juts his bottom lip, sulking. “why’re you so mean.”

you kiss his irresistible pouty lips, your soft chuckle soothing san’s chest. “you love it.”

he sighs as he takes in the scene, helplessly in love with you on top of him. “guilty as charged i guess.”

| masterlist

[juyeoz]

APPLE CIDER — HAN TAESAN ‧₊˚✩彡

SYNOPSIS — Seven minutes in heaven with your enemy is more like seven minutes in hell.

PAIRING —  enemy!taesan x gn!reader ( enemies with tension )

CONTAINS —  taesan teases y/n, swearing, an almost kiss, and some suggestiveness as well as fluff.

WORDCOUNT — 772 words ( after trial and error with pftbz )

“Why are you so flustered?” Taesan questions, confused. The two of you are in a tight space, yes, but you are also with someone you swore to hate all your life.

He walks over to the door your supposed ‘friends’ locked you both behind and inspects the doorknob.

It is indeed locked, leaving both of you stuck inside until the timer is up.

You take a seat with your back resting against the wall of the closet and knees at your chest while Taesan does his own stuff — cussing at the door under his breath. 

“Shit, do they actually expect us to do something within these seven minutes?” He says with a sigh when walking back to his spot in front of you. You look down, avoiding any possible eye contact with him.

You feel your cheeks flush, hoping he can’t see the obvious change in your emotions under the dim lighting. 

“What?” Questions Taesan after noticing the way you are avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually flustered right now.” 

The boy chortles in disbelief as he takes a seat on the floor as well. He lowers his head to get a better look at your hidden face all while placing his hands on top of your knees.

“(Last Name), look at me.” He says and unfortunately, you follow through with his request. His gaze is overwhelming and only makes you feel smaller and even more flustered than you felt before. 

Taesan’s eyes search yours for any signs of emotions, however, there is nothing. Instead, you stare at him innocently. 

A sight he has never seen before. It is captivating, truly, and almost feels as if a switch flips off inside of him. It’s different from the look you usually gave him — a scowl with knitted brows, or even worse, a glare at anything he did. However, he would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to such a sight at your lockers every morning. 

“If we kiss…” Taesan begins. “What are you going to do?” 

Your brows raise at his sudden question. The sudden question that he himself thought about, but is completely unaware of the fact it slipped out.

“I mean, that’s what they want, no?” He says, quick to make up an excuse. An excuse to shield away his true thoughts. 

An awkward silence falls over you both as you stare into each other’s eyes. Luckily because of the dim lighting, he isn’t able to clearly see your flustered expression and you aren’t able to see the way he nips at his bottom lip. 

Despite that, the cramped space isn’t any help to the both of you. You’re 100% sure he can hear your beating heart and he is 100% sure you can hear his. 

If you kiss Taesan, what would that mean for the two of you? You hate him and he hates you, however, who knew such a moment could make both of you rethink how you truly feel about one another.

Your gaze moves between his eyes and his lips and he watches with a glint from the terrible lightbulb evident in your eyes. Due to this, he bites back a smile before leaning and slightly tilting his head in the process. 

You, on the other hand, brace yourself for what is to come — but spoiler alert; it never came. Instead, a sudden weight is felt on your right shoulder. Taesan sighs and nuzzles his head further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder. 

Taesan whispers something, but it isn’t audible on your end, leaving you confused. Your head turns to look at him who continues to hide his own face in the same spot from before. 

There are many possible things Taesan could have said, starting with a simple yet irritating ‘I’m kidding’. The amount of embarrassment and hatred you’d feel after hearing those words is almost unbearable, but then again, it is expected from a boy that ‘hates’ you as much as you ‘hate’ him. 

“What did you say?” You ask, hoping it isn’t what you thought it to be. If it is, you wouldn’t waste any time getting up and asking to be let out immediately. And if that doesn’t work, you wouldn’t mind sitting alone in a corner on the opposite side of Taesan for the remaining minutes.

Seven minutes in heaven, more like seven minutes in hell. 

“(Last Name),” Taesan says, repeating himself as he raises his head to look at you. Once again, his eyes search yours as you fight back the urge to avoid his intense eye contact. 

“I like you.” 

Oh.

© JUYEOZ

BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz

[the-meme-monarch]

i do kinda have a little head canon for shrimpo in your verse

that I think shrimpo thinks everyone just hates him and maybe at garden view he tries to act nice to the kids but the kids don’t wanna talk or be near him because of how the show petrayed him and so becomes lonely he hates the other toons because they don’t get hated like he did or be ignored like him he also might not like deliliah because after watching her interaction with other toons he feels like she is just happy with them then with him

looking back this is not what you were saying i don’t think. but this was the idea this gave me NDJSJJD

but like yeah i kinda do think shrimpo has like. self image issues. ans legitimately has difficulty expressing anything other than his brand of anger. he can’t really help but act the way he does and he doesn’t really Like that he’s like that. like the character posters around his room COULD just be to cover holes in his walls or bc he’s full of himself but idk. why put up the same poster over and over with words implying nobody likes him. i think he’s got hardcore “why was i made like this” type feelings. iirc qwelver said he likes One Thing and like. if it were himself i think it would’ve just been said so bc that just feels like such an easy answer? (my idea for the one thing he likes is it’s something he can be bribed with. and that’s why in-game he’d be going on these runs at all. bc otherwise I don’t know why he’d participate HDHDJRJDJ)

so uh. maybe this is the eventual aftermath of my ‘shrimpo punching delilah in the face Immediately after being brought to life bc she scared him’ comic. shrimpo feels legitimately guilty about it bc He Didn’t Actually Mean To and thinks delilah really truly hates him over it. arthur Pried this information from him. and is trying to get delilah to reassure him. i think delilah doesn’t have much capacity for emotions Period so she got over getting punched to begin with pretty quickly. or she doesn’t even remember at this point bc of my ‘toon creation wears down your soul’ headcanon idk

last line is a reference to this post

[revelboo]

Would Thundercracker's human friend from Better Open the Door ever be able to convince TC to let them go home? (Their actual home lmao)

Or would he just plain refuse to see reason forever?

Like, he seems reasonable enough, if a bit... Clingy. And lonely. And sad.

I mean, I'd gladly be his friend, and talk about movies with him. But being kept in his room like a glorified pet is a bit much.

He would when the guilt kicks in hard enough, wanting to prove he cares and listens, even if he hates it. That said, he’s absolutely going to spend every free minute he has stalking you from above in his alt mode to keep you safe.

Better Open The Door Pt 15

Thundercracker x Reader

• Drowsing sprawled on him, it’s strange to feel so comfortable. One of his hands on the small of your back and the other on your butt. Resting your chin on him you study that handsome, alien face that’s become so familiar to you. Knowing you’re falling for him despite still being unhappy with him and you’re tempted to ruin it all. Trying to gather up the nerve to ask again, because if he really cares about you, he has to understand he has to let you go eventually.

• Optics brightening when he feels you move on him, he tucks his chin to see you. And you look so lovely sprawled on him, servos flexing on you when you yawn. “Sleep okay?” He asks and you lay your cheek back down against him. This moment. He wants to keep it forever. The way you look waking up in his arms, hair messy and eyes sleepy. “I’m probably not a very comfortable bed, am I?”

• “You’re warm.” Painfully aware of your own nakedness when the servos of one hand slides up your spine and his other hand gently flexes on your butt. And there’s his spike hardening against your hip. “Already? It’s hard to have a conversation when you do that,” you protest. And he smiles crookedly at you, expression almost boyish and not at all ashamed.

• “You have that effect on me,” he admits, cupping your chin and tipping it up. Venting when you lean up on him, mouth brushing his in a much too brief kiss. “Not so fast.” Servos threading through your hair to cup the back of your head, he tugs you back to him, mouth lazily exploring yours.

• Laughing as you break away and his servos lazily comb through your hair, you push up to straddle him and his servos skim up your body and then back down to rest on your hips. Remembering his words from the night before. That he’d said he loved you when he barely knows you. Even if the way he looks up at you is almost worshipful. “Can we talk?” Does he even really understand what love is or is he just fascinated with those love stories he watches?

• Servos wandering to cup soft skin, he rumbles at you. Do you think you really need to ask? That there’s anything he wouldn’t do for you? “Of course.” Servos stroking over you, he wonders if he can bond you. What it would be like to feel you tangled in his spark, touching him intimately. Why are you frowning at him? “Is something wrong?”

• “No, it’s just- It’s nothing,” you say, one of your hands covering his as it wanders and squeezes. And he’s frowning at you now, reaching up to tap a servo against your bottom lip. Waiting expectantly and you cringe. “You know you can’t just keep me here forever. Right? I have family and they must be worried.”

• Expression closing off, he catches your wrist when you start to pull away. Upset with him. Hasn’t he taken care of you? Protected you? “You’re not a prisoner,” he says, voice flat. Empty as his spark constricts. Was it only fragging to you? Nothing more? “I just want you to be happy. Safe.” And if you don’t want him, he’ll let you go. He’ll watch over you even if you don’t want him. Set you free and protect you from a distance as it kills him. You’re everything to him. “Is that what you want? To leave?” If so, he’ll stay as close as he can, let you have your freedom while you can, because as soon as the war starts up again, he’ll bring you back home to him no matter what you want. Can’t lose you.

Previous

Probably a good idea to add a warning to the first chapters of it and TFA Blitzwing’s fic

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[woniescheeks]

Flustered II

Synopsis: Alternatively when you make Enhypen somewhat flustered.

W/C: 2.1k   Warnings: Fluff, Mild teasing, Flustered behaviour, Light-hearted flirting, Comfort and affection, Possibly slightly cheesy.  Pairing: bf!enhypen x gn!reader  Genre: Fluff, Romance  AU: Established Relationship 

Part 1

LEE HEESEUNG 

You were sitting on the studio couch as Heeseung wrapped up his practice session. His voice effortlessly hit the high notes, leaving you completely mesmerized. When he finished, he looked over at you, slightly out of breath but wearing that proud smile he always had after nailing a tough section.

“How was it?” he asked casually, grabbing a water bottle from the table.

You tilted your head at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “It was… perfect. As always.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t have to butter me up, you know. I’m just practicing.”

You sat up straighter, your expression growing mock-serious. “Heeseung, I’m not buttering you up. I’m being 100% serious. The way you sing—it’s like you were born for this. Honestly, I’m so impressed I’m questioning why I even deserve to sit here and listen.”

He choked on his water at your dramatic delivery, turning away to hide his flustered expression. “O-Okay, that’s a little too much. Tone it down!”

You grinned, leaning closer. “Tone it down? Absolutely not. I’m a big fan of yours, Lee Heeseung, and I will shout it from the rooftops if I have to.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Stop, you’re making me embarrassed.”

“Aw, you’re blushing!” you teased, poking his cheek. “I knew you were soft behind all that stage confidence.”

“I’m not soft!” he protested, his voice cracking slightly, which only made him blush more.

“Sure, sure,” you said with a laugh. “But seriously, Heeseung, you’re incredible. And I think people don’t tell you that enough.”

For a moment, his teasing demeanor softened, and he looked at you with a shy smile. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “It means a lot coming from you.”

You poked his cheek again, grinning. “Adorable.”

“Stop calling me adorable!”

PARK JONGSEONG 

You were lounging on the couch with Jay, enjoying a lazy afternoon while he scrolled through his phone. Occasionally, he’d chuckle at something and show you, but for the most part, you just admired how effortlessly good-looking he was, even in his most casual outfit.

Out of nowhere, you blurted out, “You know, you’re really attractive.”

Jay froze mid-scroll, his thumb hovering above the screen. He turned to look at you, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You’re attractive,” you repeated, completely nonchalant. “Like, ridiculously so.”

Jay blinked rapidly, his ears turning red as he tried to figure out how to respond. “Oh… uh… thanks?”

You smirked, leaning closer. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not!” he shot back, sitting up straighter.

“You totally are,” you teased, pointing at his reddening ears. “It’s cute, honestly. You always act so confident, but one little compliment and you’re all shy.”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “You can’t just say stuff like that out of nowhere! It’s not fair!”

“Why not?” you asked innocently. “It’s the truth. You’re stupidly handsome, and sometimes it’s distracting.”

Jay peeked at you from behind his fingers, his face still red. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin. “But admit it—you like hearing it from me.”

He sighed, shaking his head with a shy smile. “Okay, fine. Maybe I do. But don’t think I’ll let you get away with this again.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, laughing. “Whatever you say, blushing boy.”

SIM JAEYUN 

Jake was sitting at his desk, typing furiously on his laptop. His brows furrowed in concentration, and his lips were pursed slightly. You couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked when he was so focused.

Feeling mischievous, you walked up behind him and gently wrapped your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his head.

“Hi,” you whispered softly.

Jake froze, his hands hovering over the keyboard. “Uh… hi?” he replied, his voice slightly shaky.

“You’ve been working so hard,” you murmured, leaning into him a bit more. “I thought you could use a hug.”

Jake let out a nervous laugh, his ears turning red. “Oh, uh… thanks? You didn’t have to, though.”

“But I wanted to,” you said simply. “You’re always so sweet to me, Jake. I wanted to return the favor.”

He fidgeted in his seat, trying to hide his obvious flustered state. “You’re really good at this, you know. Flustering me.”

You grinned, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Only you. You’re easy to fluster.”

Jake groaned, leaning back in his chair to look up at you. His cheeks were bright red, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re gonna kill me with all this, you know that?”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, ruffling his hair. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” he muttered, though the fond look in his eyes betrayed him.

PARK SUNGHOON 

Sunghoon was scrolling through his phone as you sat across from him at the cafe. His cold brew sat untouched, the ice slowly melting as he furrowed his brow at something on his screen. 

You tilted your head, watching him with a small smile. “What are you looking at so intensely?”

“Skating videos,” he replied without looking up. 

You leaned forward, trying to peek at his phone. “Are you studying or just reminiscing about your glory days?” 

He shot you a playful glare, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “First of all, they’re not ‘glory days.’ I’m still a legend, thank you very much.” 

“Oh, my bad,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. “The legendary Park Sunghoon. How could I forget?” 

He rolled his eyes, finally putting his phone down. “You’re impossible.” 

“But you like it,” you said with a grin. 

Sunghoon leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he gave you a smirk. “Maybe I do. What about it?” 

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden boldness. “I—uh—well…” 

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “What happened to all that teasing? Cat got your tongue?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to regain your composure. “I was just surprised you actually admitted it. You’re usually so aloof.” 

He shrugged, sipping his cold brew. “Maybe I like seeing you flustered. It’s cute.” 

Now it was your turn to blush. “Touché.” 

KIM SUNOO 

Sunoo was rummaging through a pile of snacks on the coffee table, his face lighting up every time he found something he liked. You sat beside him, watching his childlike excitement with a fond smile. 

“Do you ever stop being adorable?” you asked suddenly. 

He paused, a bag of chips in hand, and turned to look at you with wide eyes. “What?” 

“You’re just so cute all the time,” you said, leaning your chin on your hand. “It’s unfair, really.” 

Sunoo’s cheeks turned pink as he tried to play it cool. “I mean… I can’t help it if I’m naturally charming.” 

You laughed, reaching over to poke his cheek. “There it is—the confidence. But seriously, Sunoo, you’re like a human ball of sunshine. It’s impossible not to smile around you.” 

He beamed at your words, his blush deepening. “Well, someone has to keep you smiling, right?” 

You grinned, leaning closer. “Mission accomplished. But what about me? Do I make you smile too?” 

Sunoo looked at you for a moment before breaking into a shy yet radiant smile. “All the time,” he admitted softly. 

Your heart skipped a beat at his sincerity, and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?” 

“Maybe,” he said with a giggle. “But it’s worth it if it makes you happy.” 

YANG JUNGWON 

Jungwon was sitting next to you on the floor, going over some choreography videos. His expression was serious, brows furrowed as he replayed the same clip over and over, analysing every move with a laser focus. 

You, however, had long since zoned out. It wasn’t that the video wasn’t interesting; it was just that Jungwon himself was far more captivating. The way his lips pressed together in thought, the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he concentrated—it was hard not to admire him when he got like this. 

Without thinking, you reached out and brushed his hair back. It was such a casual, natural movement that it didn’t even register as anything out of the ordinary. 

But to Jungwon, it was a completely different story. 

He froze immediately, his whole body stiffening as his eyes widened in surprise. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“What?” you asked, confused by his reaction. “Your hair was in your face. I was just helping.” 

Jungwon blinked, and then his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “You... You can’t just do that,” he stammered, his voice uncharacteristically high. 

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head. “Fix your hair? It’s not a big deal.” 

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... you caught me off guard, that’s all.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you realized what was happening. “Jungwon,” you said teasingly, leaning closer, “are you flustered?” 

“What? No!” he said quickly, his voice defensive. He avoided your gaze, but the redness spreading to the tips of his ears betrayed him. 

“You totally are,” you teased, your grin growing. “It’s cute, though. You’re cute.” 

Jungwon groaned softly, covering his face with his hands. “Stop,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. “You’re going to make it worse.” 

“Make what worse? The fact that you’re blushing?” you teased, reaching out to gently nudge his shoulder. 

“I’m not blushing,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. 

“You so are,” you shot back, laughing. “It’s okay, though. It makes you even more endearing.” 

Jungwon peeked at you from between his fingers, his eyes narrowing slightly in playful annoyance. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered. 

“I can’t help it,” you said with a shrug, your smile softening. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know?” 

He let out a sigh, finally dropping his hands from his face. His cheeks were still pink, but he managed to muster a shy smile. “You drive me crazy,” he said quietly, shaking his head. 

“And yet, you still hang out with me,” you replied with a grin. 

Jungwon chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Yeah, well... I guess you’re worth it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His words made you freeze this time, and he smirked at your wide-eyed reaction. “Now who’s flustered?” 

NISHIMURA RIKI  

Ni-Ki was sprawled out on the couch, gripping the video game controller like his life depended on it. His eyes were glued to the screen, lips pressed into a focused line as his character dodged another attack. You sat next to him, your legs crossed and a bag of chips resting in your lap.

“You’re way too serious about this,” you teased, munching on a chip.

“You say that, but you wouldn’t last ten seconds in this game,” he retorted, his tone dripping with confidence.

“Oh, is that a challenge?” you quipped, setting the chips aside.

He chuckled, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “If you think you can handle the humiliation, sure.”

You smirked, grabbing the controller he tossed your way. “Watch and learn, Ni-Ki.”

The moment the game began, chaos ensued. Your character staggered around, hitting walls and completely missing the enemies. Ni-Ki didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, practically doubling over as you flailed.

“This is—this is so bad,” he wheezed, clutching his stomach. “I knew you’d be bad, but this?!”

“Okay, stop laughing before I throw this controller at you!” you huffed, cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“You couldn’t even aim that right,” he teased, wiping away a tear.

“Oh, that’s it,” you said, setting the controller down and turning to face him. He didn’t even notice the mischievous glint in your eyes as he kept laughing.

“Ni-ki,” you said sweetly, leaning closer.

“Yeah?” he asked, still smirking.

Without missing a beat, you rested your hand on his knee and leaned in until your faces were barely a breath apart. “You talk a big game, but you’re blushing harder than I am right now.”

His laughter stopped instantly. His smug grin faltered as his eyes widened. “W-What?”

You tilted your head, pretending to examine him. “Your ears are turning red, too. Cute.”

Ni-Ki blinked rapidly, scrambling to lean back against the couch as if it would put more distance between you two. “I—I’m not blushing! What are you even talking about?”

You laughed, leaning back and crossing your arms triumphantly. “Uh-huh. Sure. Totally not flustered, right?”

“I’m not!” he insisted, his voice an octave higher than usual. He covered his face with his hands, only making his obvious reaction worse.

“Riki,” you cooed, leaning toward him again. “Are you embarrassed because I got close? Or because I caught you staring at my lips earlier?”

His jaw dropped, and his blush spread all the way down his neck. “I wasn’t— I didn’t— You’re making that up!”

“Oh, really?” you teased, narrowing your eyes. “Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

“I’m—ugh!” he groaned, burying his face in a pillow as you erupted into laughter.

“Admit it,” you said between giggles, poking his side. “I totally won this round.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m never playing games with you again.”

“Don’t be mad,” you teased, leaning closer to ruffle his hair. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know?”

He peeked out from the pillow, his face still bright red. “Stop saying stuff like that!”

You smirked, your victory sweeter than any high score.

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo - Ending 5: "One of Us"

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: This is similar to ending 2, but I like how it turned out

The moon was high in the sky by the time you were ready to enter the black panther and white tiger exhibit. You walked along the path to the enclosure, whistling cheerfully to yourself. As you pushed open the exhibit door, your whistle trailed off into silence.

All four halflings stood in front of you, looking grim. Even Malleus, who it usually took a small hike to visit, was present. Silver and Sebek avoided eye contact, but Lilia and Malleus stared at you in silence.

“Are you guys alright?” you asked, heart sinking at their expressions.

Lilia exchanged a look with Malleus before the smaller of the two stepped forward. He looked up at you with sad eyes and you were briefly reminded of a puppy wanting to have some of your food.

“Lilia, what’s going on?” you stepped forward, closing the enclosure door behind you.

Lilia shook his head, “It’s… bad news.”

You felt yourself trembling. You cared about the halflings so much, to see them so upset made you feel nearly heartbroken.

“The zoo,” Lilia said, so softly you had to lean in to hear him, “is planning to send us away.”

His words hit you like a train. You opened your mouth but no sound came out. “Send you away?” you finally managed to ask, “Why?”

“They think we’re too boring,” Lilia whispered, “We overheard the top humans talking. They say our exhibit is expensive to maintain when no one visits us. They plan to separate us and send us to different zoos across the world.”

“No! They can’t do that!” you gasped, “You’re like a family! They can’t just tear you apart!”

“They can,” Malleus finally spoke up, his furry ears pressed flat to his head, “And they will. Unless…”

“Unless what?” you asked, practically begging for an answer.

“You can help us,” Lilia said quickly, hope shining in his eyes.

You shook your head, “I don’t see how. I’m just a researcher. Mr. Crowley wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You’ve cared for us, made this place feel better than home. That has to mean something,” Silver spoke up.

Malleus stepped closer, casting a shadow over you. His emerald eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, “We don’t want to be sent away. We don’t want to lose you.”

Sebek nodded, “We’ll do whatever it takes to stay together, but we need you on our side.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk to Mr. Crowley,” you replied, “I’ll try to convince him to-”

Lilia interrupted you, shaking his head, “Talking won’t work. He’s made up his mind.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” you asked in slight frustration.

Lilia’s eyes met yours, “You’re one of us… you understand us more than any keeper ever has. Surely you could sacrifice your humanity to tie together our family? That’s what the visitors really want to see.”

“One of you?” you echoed, “I’m human, I can’t-”

“Then let me make you one of us,” Malleus interrupted calmly, “My horns have magic, I can turn you into one of us easily.”

Lilia’s hand rested on your cheek, “We can’t survive without you, little one. Stay here, with us and let us keep you safe.”

“You’re sure this would save you all?” your voice came out as a whisper, but they all heard it clearly. One by one, they nodded.

Malleus’s horns began to glow as green as his eyes.

—----------------------------

“Look, Mom, look!” a little girl pointed down at you, “They’re so cute!”

Self-consciously, you drew your tail in, catching the two little white tiger cubs and bringing them closer to you. The twin toddlers giggled and hugged you, gently cuddling against the black panther baby cradled in your arms. 

Your belly was large- you’d be giving birth in a month from now. Whether they would be white tiger halflings or panthers would be a surprise for all of you. The zoo visitors put in votes for their guesses.

Like they’d hoped, the white tiger and black panther exhibit was popular- in fact, it was probably the most popular now that you had little cubs tottering around and looking cute. 

But at what cost?

Silver gently picked up a cub in each arm, “Give Mommy some rest.”

You blinked gratefully at him but didn’t say much. You were tired.

Everyone was happy this way! The visitors, the panthers, and the white tigers. 

Yeah, everyone was happy.

Everyone.

[muletia]

ugh the optimus ruining your garden ask makes me wanna be mean to him. just a little 🤏. maybe he's being extra clingy when you're trying to get smth done or he accidentally breaks smth again. so you're scolding him while jerking his spike and he's trying to make a cohesive apology, but it's the 5th time you've made him cum and words are starting to be harder and harder to find. then you can tease him about how someone who's given so many inspirational, articulated speeches to his fellow autobots now can't even sob out a "sorry" :(

-💕

cw: sub!optimus, dom!reader, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, teasing

word count: 750

thank you primus for the existence of overstimulation and for allowing me to torture my favorite characters with it 🙏

"Really, darling, twice in a row is just too much." You click your tongue a few times.

Your hand moves steadily, gripping and tugging at the swollen but valiantly enduring spike. Your skin, slick with pink transfluid, glides smoothly over the impressive length, maintaining the same irritated rhythm, channeling your frustration caused entirely by Optimus.

"I already explained to you, don’t step on my flowers. And don’t even try to tell me it was an accident. I’m absolutely certain you did it on purpose just to get me to punish you a little."

"A little" is quite the understatement when you’ve forced him to overload multiple times in a row. You’ve completely worn him out. His processor is fried, helm’s insides reduced to mush, leaving him incapable of thinking about anything other than the pleasure flooding his entire frame. How exquisitely stupid and helpless he felt, to the point where he kept pushing his hips into your hand, desperately trying to match the rhythm you set. Syncing his movements with yours, chasing another overload. And then another. And another, if it meant more of your touch and your attention focused solely on him.

"I-I a-am so sowwrhy!" he stammers, barely capable of forming words anymore.

"I don’t know, I just don’t see any remorse on your face, Opti. Are you sure you’re truly sorry?"

With his optics rolled back and his intake hanging wide open, coolant dripping from its corners, all you can read from his expression is that he’s having the time of his life. Not a single trace of guilt, no regret for your poor, trampled flowers.

Which is why you don’t believe the dramatic nodding he’s offering you. Especially not when his spike spasms, already preparing for another overload, even though Optimus doesn’t have any more transfluid left to give you — not even a single drop. That doesn’t stop him from shooting blanks, still thrusting his hips without pause, while you relentlessly and methodically jerk off his hard spike.

"Well? Use your words, darling. Are you sorry?"

"Ah, hah!"

"Moans aren’t words," you sigh, propping your elbow on his overheated thigh and resting your head on your outstretched hand. "Try again."

"Y- ah! Yew... mmMm!"

"Should I stop milking your spike? Would that help you find the words?"

He shakes his head frantically. You can’t help the slightly sadistic smile that creeps onto your lips.

"Then keep trying, sweetheart. I won’t let you go until you properly apologize to me."

"A-ah, so-sowwhry!" he sobs.

Your grip tightens around his spike, your hand firmly pressing against the living metal. He knows he’s being punished; understands that he’s failing to accomplish this one simple task, but he’s no longer capable of forming coherent words — nothing more complex than moans.

"Is that supposed to be an apology?" you scoff, the sharpness in your tone drawing a quick yelp from Optimus.

"Sow-Sowrhy!" he repeats, once again. He tries, programmed to obey your every command, but the result is pitiful and pathetic as he fails, breaking down when he can’t manage even one simple word.

Not when his entire frame is focused solely on chasing the next overload. On your soft hand milking his spike, your elbow digging into his trembling, oversensitive thigh. On your voice, icy and cutting against his spark. On simple, easy-to-understand directives, because anything more complex is far beyond the capacity of his poor, overworked processor right now.

"Oh, Opti. Is that the best you can do?"

"Ah! So-hah!"

"The great Prime, gifted with the talent for composing beautiful, inspiring speeches, and he can’t even string together a single simple apology."

He scrapes his servo against the floor as another empty overload wracks his spent spike. Yet you don’t stop moving your hand, forcing him to prepare for the next one.

This time, he doesn’t even bother trying to use his vocalizer, reduced to mindless whimpering.

"I expected more from you. A full essay on how sorry you are. I thought you’d rise to the challenge. You’re Optimus Prime. Prime! The gift of stirring oratory runs through your circuits!"

"Hah, so-sowwh..."

"And you can’t even manage a simple ‘sorry’?"

"S-sorwh... AH!"

You sigh and subtly slow the pace of your hand on his spike. Playtime is one thing, but you don’t want to accidentally kill him.

Though, knowing his submissive tendencies, he wouldn’t have any objections to dying by your hand.

"Let’s try again. And this time, I want an apology worthy of a Prime."

[abbysbug]

broken stars

pairing: abusive!ellabs x afab!reader

summary: abby and ellie switching between who hates you or loves you as a form of mental torture.

content: mental abuse, physical abuse, face slapping, crying, degradation, begging, orgasm from a water faucet, manipulation, dubcon.

a/n: this was written in under an hour and on my phone so don’t expect something great LOL

join the discord

your lip quivers and your eyes shine with unshed tears. ellie’s thumbs runs over your lip and gums, sighing softly. you nuzzle your sore cheek into her palm; it still feels hot from abby’s slap.

“just had to piss her off, hm?” ellie questions, her damp thumb dragging over your reddened cheek.

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble. your knees are starting to ache. the wooden floor isn’t comfortable.

ellie pulls you into her embrace. your head rests against her stomach and she threads her finger through your hair, scratching your scalp with her blunt nails. you know your suffering is turning her on; you can smell it.

“don’t give into her, els.” abby grunts. “she’s being a pathetic bitch.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and lean further into ellie. you whine as your ripped from her warm embrace and collide with the cold ground. abby stands over you, a fistful of your hair in her hand.

“say it.” abby demands.

“abby-“

the slap was expected. you finally let your tears shed and you sniffle. “i’m being a pathetic bitch.” your voice is broken.

abby releases her grip with a smile and steps back. ellie is quick to fill her space, kissing your cheek lovingly. “let’s run you a bath.”

you cling to ellie’s arm as she runs the bath, making sure the water is the perfect temperature for you. she loves how clingy you get after abby hurts you, almost makes her heart ache for you. almost. she lowers herself into the bath before pulling you into her. your back rests against her front. her fingers make mindless patterns across your stomach, nearing lulling you into a sleep.

“she entered your office today.” abby shows her phone at ellie. stupid cameras.

ellie freezes and you tense. her fingernails dig into her stomach causing you to squirm. her hand snakes around your throat and she squeezes.

“please, i-i just needed.” your words die on your tongue. you didn’t need anything. you were just nosey.

“i don’t ask much of you. i’ve only asked for you to follow a few rules and you can’t follow that simple one?” she hisses.

just as you swear you’re about to pass out, ellie gets out of the bath, leaving you to sit alone in lurkwarm water. she slams the door behind her.

abby stares at you, her expression is unreadable. tears run down your face and you bite your lip, trying to contain your cries. you turn your attention to the water, feeling embarrassed that abby is just staring.

abby crouches down, leaning against the bath for support and hooks a finger under your chin. “you’ve been a brat all day.” you chuckles at how you sniffle at her words. “you wanna make it up to me?”

you nod. you’d do anything for her forgiveness. “and ellie?”

abby’s manhandles your body to be facing the water faucet and spreads your thighs. “i’m forgiving you. not ellie.”

you whine as the water hits your clit. you try to close your thighs but abby keeps them open. you want to drag yourself away but you know that it would only piss her off more.

“you’re so perfect.” abby kisses down your neck, her hands groping your tits like it’s the last thing she’ll ever touch.

you moan. “thank you.”

it doesn’t take long for you to cum. your legs shakes and ur body falls limp. abby pulls you out of the bath and dries you before carrying you to the room. she rests you against her chest and rubs at your back. you can’t contain your cries anymore.

“i’m sorry, abby. i don’t know why i’m bad, i just-“

she hushes you with a kiss to the head. “it’s okay, baby.”

you cry until you fall asleep. abby grins as ellie walks into the room. she flops onto the bed next to abby and brushes your hair out of your face.

“i wanna physically hurt her next time. mentally isn’t as fun.”

abby rolls her eyes. “you’re sick.”

ellie laughs, “she loves it.”

[scoupsakakitty]

Fan Letter | idol!Dk x reader | fluff

Y/N had never thought much about the contents of the shoebox tucked away in the corner of her closet. It was a relic from her teenage years, filled with old posters, concert tickets, and faded memories of a time when she was just another fan in a sea of glowing light sticks.

But apparently, DK had other plans for that shoebox.

“Y/N,” his voice rang through her apartment as he stepped inside, waving a crumpled piece of paper in the air. His expression was a mix of confusion, amusement, and something else she couldn’t quite place. “What is this?”

Y/N blinked, completely caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

He held up the paper, and her stomach immediately dropped. The handwriting was unmistakable, it was hers. A letter she had written years ago, when she was just a fan who never thought she’d actually meet the man who had inspired her so much. And now, here he was, standing in her living room, holding the very letter she had hoped no one would ever see.

“Where did you even find that?” she asked, her voice a mix of panic and embarrassment.

DK grinned, tilting his head in that way he always did when he was teasing her. “You told me to grab a blanket from your closet, so I might’ve… accidentally opened a box.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Seokmin, you weren’t supposed to see that. It’s so embarrassing.”

But DK didn’t seem embarrassed at all. In fact, he looked almost… touched. “You wrote this to me? Like, for real?” He glanced back down at the letter, reading it aloud with dramatic flair. “Dear DK, I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I just wanted to say thank you. Your voice has helped me get through so many tough days.”

“Stop it!” Y/N lunged at him, trying to grab the letter, but he was too quick, holding it above his head and out of her reach.

“Whenever I feel like giving up, I listen to your songs, and it feels like I can breathe again. I don’t know how to explain it, but you make everything feel a little lighter.” He paused, his expression softening as he lowered the letter and met her eyes. “You’ll probably never know who I am, but I just wanted to say thank you for being you.”

Y/N froze, her cheeks burning as she tried to think of something to say. “I was young, okay? I didn’t think you’d ever read that. It’s… it’s just stupid.”

But DK shook his head, folding the letter carefully and slipping it into his pocket. “It’s not stupid. Not even a little.”

“Seokmin…” she started, but he cut her off, stepping closer.

“Do you know how much this means to me?” he said, his voice quieter now. “To know that I could make someone feel like that? To know that I made you feel like that?”

Y/N looked up at him, her embarrassment slowly fading as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You really helped me,” she admitted softly. “Back then, when I was going through a lot, your voice… it made things feel less heavy. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

DK’s smile grew, and he reached out to take her hands in his. “And now you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

She let out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” he said with a laugh, pulling her into a hug. “But seriously, Y/N, this is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said about me. And the fact that it came from you makes it even better.”

She relaxed in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. “I still can’t believe you found that.”

“Believe it,” he teased, gently swaying them side to side. “But hey, if you ever want to write me another letter, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe something like, ‘Dear DK, you’re the best boyfriend in the world.’”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re the reason I keep singing,” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N realized that the boy she had written to all those years ago had turned out to be even better than she could have ever imagined.

————————————————————————————-

[rafecswhore]

that's just the way life goes - part 4

Saturn & more - dad! rafe cameron x mom reader

the evening grew darker as the three of you sat on the porch, the once-vivid hues of sunset fading into the deep blue of twilight. the school project—a solar system model your daughter had painstakingly assembled—sat proudly on the table as she explained every detail with a level of enthusiasm that made you smile despite the tension that lingered between you and rafe.

“and this is saturn,” she said, pointing to the ringed planet. “it’s dad’s favorite, remember?”

you blinked, glancing at rafe, who leaned casually against the table, his expression soft as he looked at your daughter. “how could i forget?” he said, his voice warm. “you’ve told me at least twenty times.”

she rolled her eyes, grinning. “because it’s the coolest one. duh.”

“obviously,” rafe replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

you stayed quiet, watching the two of them interact. rafe always had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world, and for that, you could never fault him. but it also made it harder to keep your walls up. harder to ignore the cracks in the carefully constructed distance you’d built between you.

“mom,” your daughter said, drawing your attention back. “what’s your favorite planet?”

you hesitated, caught off guard. “uh… earth, i guess.”

“that’s boring,” she said, scrunching her nose. “pick another one.”

“mars,” you said, smiling slightly. “it’s red. it stands out.”

“see? now you’re getting it,” she said, turning her attention back to her project.

rafe glanced at you, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “mars, huh? bold choice.”

you rolled your eyes, but the faint flush that rose to your cheeks betrayed you. “don’t start.”

“i wasn’t going to,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. but there was a softness in his gaze that lingered longer than it should have, and you felt the weight of it settle in your chest.

as your daughter continued her explanation, rafe’s attention shifted back to her, and for a while, the moment felt almost… normal. like the three of you were just a family, sitting on the porch and sharing a quiet evening together. but when she finally finished and announced she was going inside to grab something, the atmosphere shifted again.

you stood, gathering the empty glasses from the table as rafe leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same unreadable expression he’d worn earlier.

“you don’t have to stay,” you said, your voice quieter now. “she’ll be fine showing me the rest.”

“i know,” he said, his tone even. “but i’m not in a rush.”

you set the glasses down on the counter just inside the door, your back to him as you tried to steady yourself. he was always like this—so calm, so sure, even when everything between you felt like it was hanging by a thread.

“why are you doing this, rafe?” you asked, turning to face him. “why now?”

he frowned slightly, standing and closing the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps. “doing what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “saying the things you’re saying. showing up like this. you know how hard it is for me to—” you stopped, shaking your head. “it’s just hard.”

rafe’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost unsure. “because i can see it, y/n,” he said quietly. “the way you still look at me when you think i’m not paying attention. the way you hold back, like you’re afraid to admit that what we had—what we have—is still there.”

“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice trembling. “there’s too much history. too much… everything.”

“so what?” he asked, his tone firm but not harsh. “you think people don’t come back from worse? we’re not perfect, y/n, but that doesn’t mean we can’t figure it out.”

you shook your head, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “i don’t know if i can trust you, rafe.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “then let me prove it,” he said, stepping closer. “let me show you that i’m not the same person i was. that i can be better—for you. for her.”

your chest ached, torn between the part of you that wanted to believe him and the part that remembered all the times you’d been let down before. but before you could say anything, your daughter came bounding back onto the porch, holding a small notebook.

“okay, so this is the next part!” she said excitedly, completely unaware of the tension lingering in the air.

rafe glanced at her, then back at you, his expression softening. “i’ll stay for this,” he said quietly, as if giving you the choice to send him away. but you couldn’t find the words to refuse him, not with the way your daughter lit up when he turned his full attention to her.

so you stayed. and for the rest of the evening, as the sky turned dark and the stars came out, you let yourself hope—just for a moment—that maybe things could be different this time. that maybe, just maybe, rafe could be right.

[gs29]

A Little Jealous

Squid Game Master list

The apartment was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, the kind of quiet that only came when the baby was napping. The sound of the baby monitor hums faintly in the background, a soft reminder that their little one—who was still too young to understand how precious these moments were—was blissfully unaware of just how much his parents were falling in love with him every single day.

You were in the kitchen, moving about the space with a peaceful air, humming softly to yourself as you prepared dinner. He had settled into the living room, leaning back on the couch, the weight of his thoughts momentarily suspended in the calm that surrounded him. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to fully relax, but with you and their son, he felt at peace in a way he’d never thought possible.

The baby, however, was the true source of his heart’s contentment. He had only been awake for a few minutes from his nap, and you’d already brought him into the living room, cradled carefully in your arms. The little one, barely more than a few months old, had already started babbling more, and each day seemed to bring something new. A smile, a giggle, a new sound. He had no idea how much those sounds meant to him until now.

"Look at him," you said softly, as you sat beside him on the couch, the baby wriggling happily in your lap. You smiled as you stroked the baby’s hair, watching him babble as his chubby little hands grabbed at the air. He made cooing sounds, blissfully unaware of the world around him, his eyes shining with excitement.

Your voice, tender and full of affection, made him glance over. You spoke again, holding the baby up a little so he could see his father. “Say ‘mama,’ baby,” you coaxed gently. The baby let out a gurgling sound in response, and your smile grew wider. “That’s right, mama,” you said softly, as if the word alone made your heart swell.

And then it happened.

The baby, with wide eyes and an expression of complete joy, managed to form a sound that was unmistakable. It wasn’t dada—the word he had been so desperately hoping for—it was mama.

His heart gave a little jolt. Mama? His eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, he froze.

You, oblivious to his sudden shift in mood, were smiling down at their son, cooing at how adorable it was. “That’s right, baby! Mama! Say mama, you’re such a smart little boy.”

Meanwhile, Gong yoo who had been sitting with a proud, expectant smile, suddenly felt a little… well, not exactly betrayed, but jealous. He shifted in his seat, trying to keep his reaction under control.

The baby gurgled again, as if to confirm his new achievement, and the salesman couldn’t help himself. “Wait, wait—hold on a second,” he said, leaning closer, trying to hide the hint of playfulness that had already crept into his voice. “He just said mama, but what about dada?” He shifted his weight on the couch, suddenly leaning in toward the baby, his voice turning a little exaggerated in mock frustration. “Come on, little one. Dada, say dada. Dada’s here too!”

The baby looked up at him, his bright eyes wide with curiosity. He stared for a moment, processing his father’s face, then turned back to you with a happy gurgle and cooed again.

“Mama,” the baby repeated, much to the salesman’s chagrin.

He blinked, his eyebrows furrowing for a split second. “I mean… really?” He glanced up at you, trying to hide the playful hint of disappointment on his face. “Are you sure he’s saying mama? He can’t possibly be skipping straight to mama, right? It’s dada time.”

You laughed softly, the sound comforting as you gave him a gentle look. “Oh, I’m sure. He said mama, didn’t you hear him? He’s just so smart.” You paused, looking at their son with adoration. “Of course, he’s smart. He gets it from me.”

The salesman rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, of course,” he teased. “Your genius brain. Well, okay, little guy.” He leaned back, adopting a mock-serious tone. “Let’s try this again. Dada. Come on, dada. Dada’s got you.” He reached out, gently cupping the baby’s cheek with his hand, smiling at the little one.

But the baby just cooed and, with an almost dramatic sense of defiance, repeated, “Mama.”

The salesman could only stare in disbelief. “Are you serious?!” His voice was almost a whisper, full of mock shock, and his playful frustration grew. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for months now. I even let you sleep in my arms. I fed you.” He shifted in his seat and pointed to you. “And you—you’re already the favorite.”

You chuckled, your smile softening with affection. “I don’t think he’s picking favorites just yet.”

But the salesman, clearly putting on a dramatic show, crossed his arms and looked down at the baby with an exaggerated pout. “Fine. Fine. If you don’t want to say dada, that’s fine. I’ll just be over here, plotting my revenge.”

You laughed at his antics, brushing a hand through his hair. “You’re being dramatic. He’ll say it when he’s ready.”

He gave you a teasing side-eye before leaning in closer to the baby again. “I’ll be here, waiting,” he said, his tone light but full of playful determination. “I’m not giving up.”

The baby gurgled happily, his eyes wide and curious. And again, he said, almost like a song: “Mama.”

The salesman sighed dramatically. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his voice. He leaned over and kissed the top of the baby’s head. “Alright, I’ll let you have this one. For now.”

You smiled lovingly at both of them, your heart swelling at the sight. "He’ll say dada soon enough,” you said with a laugh. “Just be patient.”

But as the baby cooed again, and the salesman gave one last exaggerated sigh of disappointment, he couldn’t help but laugh too. He knew this moment, however small it seemed, was one he would treasure forever. And when his son did finally say dada, it would be all the more special for the little drama that had led up to it.

[stickyspeckledlight]

“Indeed, dear mister Stoneheart! My wonderworking will take effect in a few days, and your good luck streak will end! That’ll be 100 000 credits :)”

For da gambler man

Snake oil? Only if you don’t look at it the right way.

(Speckled's End of Year Interaction Prompts, 12/2/24 ~ 1/1/25)

The Stoneheart’s smirk grows, a quirk just at the corner of his lips. It teeters on a careful precipice of amusement and threat, of control and chance. It’s nothing new to you, though. Smug confidence isn’t new to you, but it’s the first time you’ve seen it on someone dressed in such finery.

“That’s a first,” he purrs, resting his cheek in his palm. “In all my time, I’ve never had anyone offer me bad luck. Curses, yes—but not a…blessing.” He comfortably leers at you through his sunglasses, lazily tracing the rim of a cloudy, cracked glass filled with something closer to piss than whiskey.

“The only difference between a curse and a blessing is intent,” you wink, “And with what you told me, Mr. Stoneheart, that luck of yours IS a curse! I mean, what kind of luck is winning a lifetime supply of toothpicks? That luckiness of yours is no good!”

His grin widens, “Indeed. Why, before I say anything else, I must commend you for your generosity!” He lightly claps, putting on all the theatrics you’ve come to expect, “100,000 credits in exchange for curing me? Why, I can’t fathom a deal better than this…”

“Right you are, Mr. Stoneheart!” You snap of your fingers, calloused and rough, almost alien in how bony it is these days. “But careful: my power is a…finicky thing, so we can only do this NOW!”

“Oh?” Suddenly his smile grows sharper, “That’s new.”

“I can’t reveal all my tricks,” you smoothly reply. You catch yourself tapping your foot hurriedly against the pavement and stop. You shouldn’t think about what you can do with that money; you can simply do with the money, after this rich sucker forks over his cash. Luck, as a curse? Who is he kidding? Why would he throw that away, when you and everyone else you know would kill for it?

“Shame.” He says with completely insincerity. He stands and pushes his chair back, “I was hoping you’d find a creative way to explain your con. I was looking forward to what you’d come up with so much, y’know?”

You lock up and stiffen. This rich playboy was acting stupid before! Why’s he suddenly calling you out?! “H-huh? A con? Mr. Stoneheart, you must be—”

“Don’t.” He smiles, “You know, I did introduce myself as ‘Aventurine, of the Ten Stonehearts: a cog in the machine of the Strategic Investment Department.’ Do you actually know who I am?”

“An IPC executive,” you hastily reply; you can’t get on his bad side, you CAN’T.

But he only continues to look at you, looking above you with a foxlike expression.

“That’s correct, but dig a bit deeper,” he peppily nudges. “You’re a smart one; I’m sure you can do it!”

“Uh…” you frown, “You…you make investments?”

“That’s something everyone does.” He shakes his head, “So: no. How about I give you my formal title? I’m a Non-performing Asset Liquidation Specialist.”

…You do not understand whatever that corporate mumbo jumbo means.

Well, phooey. You’re fucked, man. Your con is bust. If anything, this guy had all the cards before you even saw his face.

“Oh, Mr. Stoneheart…” you smile again, standing to meet his eyes, “You it said yourself: we’re friends,” his grin does not fall, but his eyes crinkle with cheshire glee, “So, let’s not bei business into this. And that applies to me too! I should’ve known better; this blessing’s on the house, friend.”

He does not say anything, letting your words hang in the air, and stress gather in your chest before he finally speaks.

“Slow recovery, but it’s not half bad. Especially for someone who hasn’t been in business long. You’ve got some potential,” he whistles. You must’ve had a ridiculous expression on your face, because he just laughs. Mirth dances in his eyes, tinted pink by his sunglasses. “Oh, my bad; I’ll play along just for you, my jewel.”

You’re not given any time to react to the sudden new nickname. “Yes, I can’t believe how astute you truly are, my friend,” he sighs wistfully, clutching his heart and smiling like you two are really, really, really good friends. The whiplash hits you with a crack, and now, you aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen him without a mask. “Still, I would feel bad about just getting a blessing from you for free, so…how do you feel about becoming my employee?”

An employee? What? You were trying to CON him, and now he wants to hire you?!

“W-what?”

“That’s right,” he bows, “I meant what I said, my friend. You’re a diamond in the rough, and it’s my job to polish you up—we at the Strategic Investment Department prioritize long term over short term, you know.”

“But I—” tried to con you, you almost stammer before catching yourself, “—have, uh…”

Well, you never liked him even when he was playing the part of a rich fool, but seeing how that in of itself might’ve just been a mask…you don’t want to be near this guy, period. And now that you think about it, you’ve never seen his eyes.

He makes a zipping motion with his fingers and across his mouth, “My friend,” he kindly winks, “Don’t bother objecting! Tell me: what are two things you now know about my job?”

…All of the whiplash and sudden questions seemingly unrelated to anything said…you think you’re going to get a headache, once your mind is clear from panic and stress.

“Um…you’re a liquidation specialist and…go for long term investments.”

“Perfect; 10/10!” He claps, “Now let’s dig even deeper—dig into you, [Name].”

Time stops.

“[Name]?” You scoff, mouth twitching, “Mr. Stoneheart…are you projecting onto me?”

“Don’t lie, my jewel,” the nickname makes you bristle, and he sighs, “Now’s the time to drop the platitudes and acts. There’s always a time for veiled conversations, but ah, I think there’s no need for that, now.”

For some reason, even though your cowardice has already been shown, now’s the time you decide to keep up the cheery salesman act. In the back of your mind, you shake your head. How could you immediately prove what he just said?

But that’s just the back of your mind.

“Oh, Mr. Stoneheart! Why would I ever lie to you? We’re friends.”

“Indecisive, are you?” He hums, “That’s alright. That’s perfectly fine. Indecisiveness doesn’t erase debt either way.”

“D-debt? Oh, but Mr. Stoneheart—!”

“You can’t erase what your stupid father did.” He plainly states, taking a coin out and playing with it, “Mx. [Name], my condolences for what happened to you; falling into poverty like this wasn’t your fault, but…fault also doesn’t erase debt.”

This time, you’re shaking. You can’t do anything but watch. He was just supposed to be a rich, stupid fool to wring money out of—who—how—how did things go this way—

“Here’s what I was thinking. Work for me, and you’ll be able to pay off your debt without worry. You’ll be provided a reduced salary, of course, but you’ll have enough to…” his mouth quirks, “…get by.”

He saunters around the table, and leans against it lazily. He leans closer, “You understand that there’s no other choice, right?” At your continued, fearful silence, he chuckles, “Don’t worry, Mx. [Name]. I’m the one hiring you; you know I’ll treat you well! Like you said, we’re friends. Good friends, even.”

You hear the sound of a coin flick; you move your head to see it fall onto the table, covered by the Stoneheart’s hand.

A leather clad finger hooks under your chin and drags your gaze to his, “But I’ve got another idea,” he offers, “Gemstones are made to be cut, sold, and coveted. You’re no different…but you’re still rough. You’ve barely been lodged out of the cave walls. So, I have a proposal…just for a beauty like you,” he winks playfully, but it does nothing to alleviate the sheer intimidation and power he’s exerted on you.

The hand on the table slides off, hovering by your wrist.

“Follow through on that bad luck of yours,” he gently leers. Something cold and sleek and heavy slips to your grip, “If you do…100,000 credits? No; that’s wouldn’t be enough to convey my generosity. I’m going all-in. A carefree life would be yours in an instant. But if you don’t…”

The revolver’s holster clicks against his chest.

“I’ll be free to shape you however I like; and covet you with these lucky hands.”

[cherrylibby]

Between Life and Love

The last thing you remember is shouting—urgent voices rising above the chaos, a cacophony of fear and desperation. Then, the sharp, searing pain as a bullet tears through your abdomen. The ground rushes up to meet you, cold and unyielding.

The world blurs around you, colors and sounds fading as your body grows heavy. Through the haze, you catch a glimpse of Spencer Reid. He’s rushing toward you, panic etched into every line of his face.

"Y/N!" he shouts, his voice cracking. He drops to his knees beside you, his trembling hands pressing down on the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Stay with me," he pleads, his voice a mixture of panic and determination. "Please, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. You have to be okay."

His normally steady hands shake as he tries to control the blood gushing from your wound. Tears well in his wide hazel eyes, threatening to spill over as he stares down at you.

You want to say something, to tell him it’s not his fault, but the words don’t come. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and his voice grows distant, like a fading echo.

When you wake, the world feels strangely quiet. The harsh fluorescent lights above you cast a sterile glow, and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor is the first sound you register.

Your body feels heavy, the dull ache in your abdomen a reminder of what happened. Blinking, you manage to focus on your surroundings. You’re in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV.

At your bedside, Spencer sits slumped forward, his head resting on the edge of the mattress. His usually neat hair is disheveled, and the dark circles under his eyes suggest he hasn’t slept in days.

"Spence," you croak, your voice hoarse and weak.

His head snaps up, and for a moment, he just stares at you, as if he can’t believe you’re really awake. Then, relief floods his features, and he quickly leans closer.

"Y/N," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re awake."

Before you can respond, the door opens, and the rest of the team files in. Emily is the first to approach, her expression a mix of relief and gentle reprimand.

"You really know how to scare us, don’t you?" she says, brushing a hand lightly over your arm.

Morgan stands next to her, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "You’ve got to stop putting yourself in the line of fire like this. We’re getting too old for these kinds of scares."

JJ and Rossi linger near the foot of the bed, offering soft words of encouragement and teasing remarks to lighten the mood. Their presence is comforting, a reminder of the bond you all share.

But through it all, Spencer stays quiet, his eyes never leaving you.

Eventually, the team begins to trickle out, giving you space to rest. Emily glances at Spencer before leaving, her gaze lingering for a moment as if to say, This is your chance.

Now, it’s just the two of you.

Spencer pulls his chair closer, his long fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of his sweater. He hesitates, the silence stretching between you.

"Spence," you say softly, breaking the tension.

He looks up at you, his hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I thought I lost you," he whispers, his voice trembling. "I’ve seen so many terrible things in this job, but nothing… nothing has ever scared me like that. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I never told you."

He swallows hard, his hands clenching into fists as he gathers his courage. "Y/N, you mean so much to me. More than I’ve ever let on. You’re the one person who makes me feel like I’m more than just statistics and facts. You make me feel… human."

His voice cracks, and he looks down, his shoulders shaking slightly. "I’ve always been afraid to say anything, afraid of ruining what we have. But after seeing you like that, I realized… I can’t keep this to myself anymore."

He lifts his gaze, meeting your eyes. "I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for a long time."

The raw vulnerability in his confession leaves you speechless for a moment. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his. He takes your hand in his, holding it tightly, as if afraid to let go.

"I love you too, Spence," you say, your voice soft but steady.

A tear slips down his cheek, and he lets out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand.

"I promise," he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I’m going to be here for you. Always."

And for the first time since waking up, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that whatever comes next, you won’t face it alone.

[merbear25]

can you write a small drabble for aokiji with a f! reader? maybe something relating to his love for women with big bazoongas and reader is rather... well endowed... (SORRY IF THIS IS A LITTLE ODD)

It's not odd at all! I hope you like what I've written for you! 💜💜

You were oblivious to your secret admirer. His longing gaze took its time breaking through that haze you were in. With an instant connection forming, you went against your better judgement to see how brightly these embers could burn. You were left wondering why it’d taken you so long to notice him.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, perversion, breast fondling and sucking, a bit of body worship, teasing, reader is a part of Blackbeard’s crew

Much needed attention (Aokiji)

Couldn’t there have been a different alignment of the stars you’d found yourselves under? Meeting under these circumstances was far from favorable, and yet here you were on board the same deck as him, both contributing to Blackbeard’s greed.

You were a captivating creature; there was no denying that. His eyes found you long before you even noticed him. Not giving him the time of day at the beginning, he chalked it up to you drowning in your workload. That wouldn’t do, though. An alluring woman such as yourself should be given only the greatest pleasures in life. 

His eyes lingered on your chest. Even from afar, the gentle rises and falls were evident from the subtle shake of your breasts. Despite your attention being directed elsewhere, a shiver ran down your spine, averting it away from your task. Your eyes scanned the area for only a moment before they laid on Aokiji. They fixated on him, combing over his laid back demeanor. He propped his head up on his hand and gave you a half smile.

Having only noticed him for the first time and he already got you blushing. Your flustered mind was flooded with thoughts of him; questions of who he was, how long he’d been there, and where he came from raced laps on your now one track mind. You were so caught up in these newfound emotions that you were unaware of his approaching footsteps.

He leaned down, keeping enough distance to better judge your reaction to him. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

The compliment took you off guard. The heat on your cheeks spread to the entirety of your face. “You can’t just be forward like that!” Your attempt to speak in a hushed voice was in vain.

He paused for a moment as if deeply considering your frantic words. “Why not? It’s just a fact. You’re beautiful and—”

“Shhh! Stop blurting that out!” Heart beating fast, the heat on your face burning, stumbling over your words: you couldn’t remember the last time anyone made you feel like this—out of control.

Snickering crept up from behind you, making the situation you were naive to ignore become reality. The sinking in your chest made those delicate movements more prominent. Without meaning to, you were making yourself out to be that much more ravishing. The temptation to be the one to comfort and soothe you was nearly too much to bear.

“You don’t need to listen to them.” Offering his hand, his whisper wrapped those warm words tightly around you. Taking his hand, you followed him to a more private area where you could explore these sparks flaring between you.

In closer proximity, you got a better look at the details on his body. Even under his layers, there was no mistaking the muscle underneath.

“Do you want to touch me?” 

Despite his nonchalant tone being something to get used to, you nodded in response. Resting your hands upon the fabric, your fingers memorized the feel of it. He reached up to undo his shirt, while his eyes never left your expression. There was a clear arousal in it, no matter how much you may have tried to deny.

Hesitantly at first, your touch soon roamed his chest with a deep hunger that hadn’t been satisfied for a long time. The need in your expression was obvious, practically begging him to reach out and touch you. When he cupped your breasts, a shaky breath came out of both of you in unison. Even while in his sizable hands, your breasts managed to dwarf them. Their softness, the sweet sounds you made when he played with them, the feeling of your nipples hardening from increasing arousal: you truly were a sight to behold.

Soft kisses found your neck. Gasps and moans passed your lips as he traveled further down your body. Kneading your breasts more roughly, he managed to squeeze out a few needy pleas. He buried his face between your breasts, carefully rubbing your erect nipples between his fingers as he bounced them against his face. Your hips began moving back and forth slowly, tempting him to go further with you. A low groan vibrated against your chest before letting you see the burning desire in his eyes.

Leaving a trail of heat in their wake, his lips finally found their way to one of your nipples. A firm suck on it was promptly followed by a lathering tongue—flicking at it to coax out each delightful moan you could muster. The hunger within you was growing ravenous, but his was just as famished. 

Pulling you closer, he firmly held you in place as if expecting a specific reaction out of you. His other hand slid up your skirt and was greeted by the arousal pooling in your panties. Breathless moans bathed your bear chest as his fingers ran over your clothed slickness.

The soaked fabric twisting around his fingers left the friction against your clit that much more unbearable. There was no stopping the cascade of blissful moans and whimpers. You rutted against him, desperate for him to be the one to commit to breaking your dry spell. Each deliberate motion from him played your body more skillfully than he could have ever imagined. Plucking the strings to the fine instrument of your ecstasy threw you into an ascending melody of euphoria.

A cooling sensation tickled your breasts the more you moved in his arms. Pinning you against him, that hot wet tongue of his was now leaving a slight chill against your sensitive skin. Your pants grew needier and your gasps turned into grunts as your senses were under attack in the more erotic way you could have dreamed of.

With just a few more tactful brushes between your sensitive folds, you cried out for him while he pushed you through your climax. The pool between your thighs was coating his hand, tethering him to you with a thin elastic string. He caressed your hips tenderly, and while his lips trailed back up to your neck, they showered your breasts with the affection they were just left absent of.

Calls from up deck indicated the arrival to shore. Being pulled away from this intimate moment was done forcefully, although you knew that it wouldn’t be long before you’d be able to sneak away to finish what you had started.

[kiesbrainjuice]

— SMELL THAT ! rintarou suna

➥ pr : timeskip!suna x fem!reader

➥ syn : your husband decided to prank you by doing this

➥ tw : wife reader, pure fluff.

➥ a/n : omggg I found this in my fyp it’s so funny lmao (am i alone?)

The day had started off quietly for you. Suna had left early in the morning to hang out with Atsumu and a few of his friends, and you used the peaceful hours to enjoy your book and relax around the house. After lunch, Suna finally returned home. He looked a bit tired but still greeted you with a quick kiss on the forehead before retreating to the bedroom for some much-needed rest.

You didn’t think much of it when he disappeared for a while, though you were amused at how his outings with Atsumu always seemed to exhaust him more than a full volleyball match. By the time the late afternoon rolled around, you had curled up on the sofa with your book again, completely engrossed in the story.

That’s when it happened.

Suna strolled into the living room with a furrowed brow, his movements deliberate, almost ominous. His tall frame loomed slightly over you as he stopped at the edge of the sofa.

“Smell that?” he asked, his tone sharp and accusatory.

You blinked, slowly lowering your book to look up at him. “No?” you replied, confused.

“Exactly!” he said, throwing his hands up. “Where is dinner?”

Your brows furrowed as his words sank in. For a moment, you thought he was joking, but his face stayed serious. You glanced at the clock—it wasn’t even close to dinner time yet. Still, his sudden irritation threw you off guard.

“What do you mean, ‘where’s dinner?’” you asked, sitting up straighter. “It’s barely past four! You just got home—what’s your problem?”

He crossed his arms, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m starving. I’ve been out all day, and I come home to… nothing? Nothing, babe?” He emphasized the last word, his voice dripping with mock disappointment.

You felt your face heat, a mix of anger and embarrassment. “Excuse me? I didn’t realize this was the 1950s, and I was supposed to have a three-course meal waiting for you the second you walked through the door. If you’re hungry, you know where the kitchen is!”

“I work hard!” he shot back, his tone dramatic and theatrical now, though you were too flustered to notice it right away. “I play volleyball to keep us in this lifestyle, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Are you serious right now?” you asked, your voice rising. You stood up from the couch, squaring off with him. He towered over you, but you refused to back down. “I do plenty around here, Rin! You think just because you’re tall and handsome, you can talk to me like this?”

He opened his mouth, but the moment you caught the faintest twitch of his lips—the beginning of a suppressed grin—it clicked. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“Wait… what is this?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, avoiding your gaze.

“Rintarou Suna.” You folded your arms across your chest. “Is this one of Atsumu’s stupid ideas?”

At that, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His serious expression crumbled, and a wide grin broke out on his face as he doubled over with laughter.

“Oh my god!” you groaned, throwing your head back in exasperation. “It is! You absolute idiot! I really thought you were mad at me!”

He was laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Babe, your face—” he wheezed. “You looked so offended—oh my god, Atsumu’s going to love this.”

You smacked his arm. “You’re the worst! I can’t believe you fell for one of his dumb ideas.”

“Come on, it was funny!” he said, straightening up and wiping at his eyes. “You’ve got to admit it was good.”

“Good?” you repeated, your voice climbing an octave. “You scared the crap out of me, Rinnie! I was about to start thinking you were misogynistic!”

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around your waist despite your protests. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was just a joke. You know I don’t expect you to make dinner every day. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You’d better,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re making dinner tonight.”

“Done,” he said, grinning. “Anything you want.”

You huffed but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Lucky and smart,” he teased, leaning back slightly to look down at you. “I mean, I could’ve married someone without a sense of humor—”

“Don’t push your luck,” you interrupted, glaring at him.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, his grin still firmly in place. “Fine, fine. But seriously, baby, you should’ve seen your face.”

You sighed, shaking your head. But then your eyes landed on the sofa pillow, and an idea struck. Before he could react, you grabbed the pillow and swung it at him, hitting him square in the chest.

“Hey!” he protested, laughing as you swung again. “What are you doing?”

“You deserve this!” you said, chasing him around the living room with the pillow. “You and Atsumu are the absolute worst!”

He ducked out of reach, laughing so hard he could barely get a word out. “Okay, okay, I give up! Baby, stop—”

“Not until you apologize properly!” you yelled, whacking him again.

He caught the pillow mid-swing, towering over you as he smirked down at you. “You know you’re not scary, right? You’re, like, half my height.”

“Don’t test me, Rinnie!” you said, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight despite your half-hearted protests. “Okay, okay,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “I’m sorry. You’re amazing. I love you. And I’ll never prank you again—well, unless it’s a really good idea.”

You groaned, leaning into his chest despite yourself. “Oh hell nah.”

“And you love it,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

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