#to determine if i liked the song or not just bc

[nnon0]

JJH fic recs

been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)

(🫀) -personal faves

all these years @domjaehyun

WC: 34.1k

fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au

Just friends @lonelyharmonies

WC: 22k

Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

(🫀) Only @ppangjae

WC: 21.6k

almost!lovers au

You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?

Romeo roulette @wincore

WC:21.1k

soulmate au, office au, fake dating

if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight

WC: 18.7k

Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers

jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic

WC: 17k

heartbreakers, smut

A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.

(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 17k

school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun

As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.

(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae

WC:13.7k

poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers

As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs

WC:11.8k

friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut

there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan

WC: 10.2k

Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving

synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)

Boyfriend material @mochidoie

WC: 6.2k

fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Back up Valentine @tyonfs

WC: 2.9k

Spiderman!jaehyun

you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

SERIES

S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun

WC:66.2k

heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories

[nahyeon]

every time i listen to chill kill i zone out for the last few songs

[hydrangeatrees]

tagged by @lovphobic to put my spotify on repeat playlist on shuffle and share the first 10 songs i get!

somewhere by the neverminds

you better get strong from the jjk soundtrack

melon by cotoba

dramatic by mass of the fermenting dregs

if i am with you from the jjk soundtrack

nothing to remember by neko case

hidden inventory from the jjk soundtrack

guilty by taemin

duvet by boa

three years of youth overflowing from the jjk soundtrack

tagging: @amanaci @bigbootybobabitch @vault22 but no pressure to participate!

[bandzboy]

re your last post you’re so right. streaming culture has always bothered me but more and more lately i’ve realized that kpop (twitter mostly) stans don’t know how to just enjoy music. and like… it’s genuinely so sad for them. there’s so many great artists with great music but all they care about is numbers even if they don’t necessarily enjoy the song/album/mv. i feel like this also ties into people who are allergic to even the idea of stanning multiple groups but i digress

i think the reason for this to happen is how some of them feel responsible for their faves career like if they don't mass stream they won't succeed when most of the time (if not all the time) it's the company's fault for not doing their job properly and not promoting them decently because if they did their job people would naturally gravitate towards listening to said song or album naturally without the need of mass streaming and i mean one of the main things that count for music show wins are streams and it's so much pressure to like put the pressure on fans to do so but this results into people not really enjoying the song for what it is and not having fun during comebacks! like i am saying as someone who used to do this (bc i was on stan twt) and looking back i came to realize that i wasn't really enjoying it as much as i should in my case it was skz which i love all of their music but i remember being so stressed bc i had to stream the mv and the thing is I DIDN'T HAVE TO but there was this pressure from other people on there to do it and if you didn't you weren't a real stan. i mean the thing you say about people not wanting to stan multiple groups is very real because people on twt will side eye you if you are listening to other groups because it means you aren't dedicated to x group since you are giving streams to y group and it's BONKERS i mean... being a stan during kingdom was literally that that's why after that i left stan twt but it was an awful experience especially if stanned more than one group but the craziest thing is that years back nobody would bat an eye if you stanned more groups on twt but ever since streams and views started to be more important everyone just started to be like "you have to stan one group because you have to stream and vote for that group ONLY" and it's crazy to me i couldn't deal with any of that i think it got WAY too normalized this past few years people over there judge you because you like different groups when it's not that serious and you are just trying to enjoy music and they can't fathom that at all it's very odd

[vampylily]

peterick h*destown shower thoughts. thinking about the songbird vs. the rattlesnake/eurydice!pete meeting hades!pete. hades!pete (aka preh!pete) has everything eurydice!pete wants money notoriety and rivieras and for eurydice!pete it's a difficult choice he makes willingly because he loves orpheus!patrick's unending quest to finish the song but he's so lonely! he's tired! he's hungry! but in a meta sort of way, it's a relapse where posth!pete could lose all the things that made him posth!pete and could go back to being what preh!pete was. idk if that makes sense but like. falling into the pattern backwards without even realizing you're relapsing because you are a character and you don't know the story but everyone else knows.

anyways. other additional thoughts include. persephone!patrick flirting with everyone. he's a happy touchy drunk! he likes singing and dancing so he flirts with everyone and hades!pete is totally jealous because patrick never seems to be that outwardly happy with him. he knows that persephone!patrick loves him. he has to. they're married. they promised. but ooooooh that doubt trickles in at the back of his mind until you think that the only thing you can do is try to keep that canary in a pretty cage.

you wanna take me home? / yes / sing the song; orpheus!patrick being a muses son, being touched by the gods. he plays the lyre for when persephone comes up top but he doesn't think of his voice as his main instrument. but then eurydice!pete wants him to sing!!! and so he does and that's how he manages to finish the song because he's put words and voice to the melody he was trying to reshape. just. imagining eurydice!pete falling in love in spite of himself because of orpheus!patrick's singing. and being encouraged by eurydice!pete to finish the song makes it even more devastating when orpheus!patrick finds himself so alone with nothing but his own voice and the belief that he has the golden voice and the songs to fix the world, belief that eurydice!pete had in him, begins to waver until he can't care about grand things like trials by the gods or fix the world back into two. and he has to turn back just to see eurydice!pete with his own eyes.

[nyxi-pixie]

fuck it. byler headcanons to heal the soul

the first time they get drunk mike loses his fucking mind (wheeler siblings cant handle their alcohol AT ALL) and will has to half carry him home while mike rants about how strong he is (will brings it up to bully him all the time and mike refuses to believe he ever said Anything about how will is so strong he could win a fight against the hulk)

karen is very tired of having to buy new folders bc mike keeps filling his with wills art and then pesters her for new ones. he has his own lil bookcase dedicated to the Will Art Folders because he refuses to throw away anything wills ever drawn for him(even the shit he drew at like 6 years old that was good for a 6 year old but like.. its still drawn by a 6 yr old) this is actually the reason he had no pocket money in s2 its because he spends all of it on will art folders (REAL he told me himself)

mikes music taste is AWFUL like he listens to the most cringey bullshit ever made and genuinely thinks its the best thing ever. he learns how to make mixtapes from jonathan just so he can make one filled with wills fav music and then the last song is some Awful pop song that he knows will hates just to fuck with him.

[mybackiskillingmebb]

i get such a weird sort of comfort from abandoned malls. like i literally cannot describe to you how or why but it just makes me feel so at ease, and it's probably why i like mallsoft so much

[theloveinc]

ur post abt the roommate. wow the audacity of white ppl never fails to amaze me. they rlly only perceive the world through their lens and think if someone hasn’t established themselves in their community they’re a nobody. u had to find out abt kanye west due to a white woman prevalent in ur community? what does that say abt u more than anything? it’s so funny how they rlly think poc success relies on whether they’re relevant enough to white ppl. it makes me understand now why a lot of them will be obsessed with and hype up artists like tyler the creator, since 90% of his audience are white. i experienced this first hand at one of his concerts earlier this year.

It def changes the narrative a lot, but I'm also white and I was really shocked, too. I knew it was possible, but I never really thought someone would be so blatant (and intentional, too) in their cultural deafness and blindness about a topic that's not only easy to understand but also... important?

Like... idek know what to say. The fact that there are (white) people out there who have never had to challenge their worldview, even with different styles of art and music... to the point where distinct history, at the very least, isn't even remotely important? Or considered at all?

Not only does it touch upon what you say about it reflecting poorly on them (which, BIG FACTS) but also... you wonder how that's something to even defend or take pride in. It's pure stupidity... and overall just hard to watch, someone having the nerve to so wrongly but confidently have opinions about a topic they never even bothered to learn about.

And exactly as you say about TTC, too. We were just talking in one of my education classes, about how culture can be alienated at the exact same time society starts to accept it. Like, who is truly benefitting from making something mainstream? Not that this is inherently/automatically bad, per se, but when art, music, food, etc, becomes popular at the expense of the people who made it and who it was made FOR... what's really going on? Definitely nothing mutually beneficial, that's for sure... and ESPECIALLY not if this version is the only thing shared, valued, and understood of the culture.

Like Kanye West at the VMAs vs. the impact of his entire discography, for example.

(though it's funny, I said to my roommate, "haven't you heard about stuff like this in passing?" and she deadass said "no."

What. The. Fuck.)

But yeah. People will really value one famous white lady who makes nothing but mediocre love songs about her own life over popular and meaningful expressions of black experience... and then say they aren't racist.

It is depressing. Lol. But thank you for this! I agree + appreciate the insight SO much.

[hella1975]

you don't know mental illness until you've walked to asda in the rain at specifically 9pm to go buy red hair dye all the while listening to ptolemaea by ethel cain

[pathologicalreid]

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

[storiesforthemoonchild]

Mi Luna Llena | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

wrote this like a week ago bc I was listening to Luna by Aitana on repeat, but then forgot to post it... enjoy!

“Please don’t cry. If you cry then I’ll cry,” you plead, using the pad of your thumb to wipe the lone tear falling down Aitana’s cheek. She gives you a pitifully sad forced smile, trying her best to keep herself together. 

“I will miss you,” she chokes out, her voice laced with emotion. “Only two months?” She knew the answer, it had been the same routine for the last eight months you’d been touring, gone for two months and back for two weeks. 

Still you nod, wishing you could comfort her and tell her that time would fly by this time but you can’t. Even one night felt like a lifetime when she wasn’t in your arms. “I’m always here,” you poke softly at her heart, a reminder that even far apart you were hers. 

Aitana’s head falls to your shoulder, unable to keep the tears from flowing freely any longer, but she didn’t want you to see. She knew you would feel guilty and that’s not what she wanted. Leaving was always hard on both of you. It hadn’t been easy getting to this place in your relationship, and now that you were the constant distance was your biggest obstacle. 

You met Aitana years ago through a mutual friend after coming to Barcelona for University. You were studying music and Aitana was just beginning to break into the Barcelona ranks. It was an unconventional friendship in the beginning, but she was focused, hungry, determined, and that’s exactly why you both got on so well, you shared the same level of passion for your dreams. Despite your late night insomnia that kept you up writing until the morning hours while she prioritized her sleep next to you, the bond you created couldn’t be broken. 

The beginning of your adulthood was all spent with Aitana. It was always the two of you, for every label rejection and the smallest of injuries where she was convinced her career was over. You cheered the loudest in the stadium when she scored her first Barcelona goal. She was the first call you made when the record deal finally came, and she scrambled to prepare a celebration between her busy schedule. The beach was always the place you two would go together to regroup and escape reality, it made you fall in love with Barcelona, the people, the culture…Aitana. 

However, Aitana hadn’t always been yours to love. Time was never your friend in that category. The moment you would get close to playing her the song she’d excitedly tell you about the new person she was seeing that you had no previous knowledge about. You’d go away for a while after the news, a need to explore in order to create your excuse each time. You’d find solace in the arms of another, but they weren’t as warm as Aitana and their smile not as bright. You’d come back convinced that as long as she was treated well and happy that you also were happy. 

It was a vicious cycle that went on for years, one of you always accompanied by someone else. You found yourself away from Barcelona for an extended period, at a point that may have been your darkest. Your return only came by way of your first concert in the place that made your career, she promised to be there. 

It wasn’t planned, but when you saw her… for the first time in months and amongst a sea of people, as usual she was brightest. You knew it was now or never for you, so in front of 18,000 people you sang to her. After years of friendship and hopeless pining on both sides, you didn’t have to tell her the song was about her, she knew. Your eyes not leaving hers for a single note as you watched the tear fall from her eye when she got the confirmation the song was indeed about her. 

Mi luna llena, you sang, the nickname you gave her early in your friendship on one of your late night trips to the beach. A cheesy line about how she reminds you of the full moon because even when it’s dark she was your light. She called you cheesy and shoved you away but not before a deep blush stained her cheeks and that was enough for you to make sure the nickname stuck. 

“I’ll be kissing you back in my dreams,” Aitana mumbles into your now damp shirt, referencing a line in the song she now deemed hers, and it certainly was. Her body pressed tightly in yours as you stroke her back to calm her still trembling frame. She leans back searching for your eyes when you remain quiet, and kisses at the silent tears you had let fall. “Lo siento, do not cry.”

You give her your best smile, “I don’t like to see you upset. This is the last one,” you say, trying to give a little hope in the fact that this was the last stretch of the tour. 

“Until the next one,” she bluntly says from her place on top of you, scrunching her face in disappointment of something that’s not even close to being a thought let alone a plan. She buries her head into your neck this time, and you feel the fresh tears coating it. 

You’re silent for a moment, allowing her words to sink in and giving you a chance to try and think of a reply. “Maybe not,” the announcement grabs all of her attention as her puffy eyes search for yours in the darkness once more. “Maybe I’ll quit music, follow you around everywhere, wear your name on my back and be the perfect little wag.” 

It earns you a soft giggle and it feels like a win to you. Aitana connects your lips softly, “sí, that’s perfect. No me dejes más.”

“Even if I leave I will always come back. You are my light Aitana.” You trace the little freckles on her face, watching as the first genuine smile of the night graces her face. 

“Say it,” she demands, shaking her body playfully against yours.

“I love you,” you whisper and she stares at you expectantly, wanting to hear the nickname she once called cheesy but now couldn’t live without hearing. “Mi luna llena.”

“I love when you say it,” she grins teasingly. You blush still a bit bashful about the fact you wrote the song about your friend years before confessing your love. "Only think of me when you sing it," she requests.

"I always only think of you," you half shrug like it's the most obvious thing, and to you it is. Aitana consumed your thoughts especially when you were apart.

Aitana chuckles, always amused by your quick affectionate responses. "Te amo mucho, mi vida," she whispers finally as the emotions settle and you both relax in one another's hold. Distance was hard, and there will always be tears before you separate, but you both knew you'd come back together soon enough.

[monzabee]

the lusty month of may – cs55 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where it’s that darling month when everyone throws self-control away, and you and Carlos decide to do a wretched thing – or two. 

Pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (cover your willy, don’t be silly), pre-established relationship, cursing, google translate spanish bc i forgot all the spanish i learned in school (lo siento mucho, señora xenia), talks about pregnancy, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! okay so this was not supposed to take me this long to write, but i kind of procrastinated because of studying and my exams, but here it is, finally done! i fully blame carlos for my brain rot, so i hope you guys enjoy this one, and feedback is always appreciated! (p.s. the title comes from a song from the broadway musical ‘camelot’ for those of you who are interested!) good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

His hand is closed over your mouth in a feasible attempt to cover up any pleas or sounds coming from your lips. You tried telling him no when he started pulling you towards the greenhouse behind the villa his family rented out for the weekend. It was supposed to help Carlos destress before leaving for Miami for the rest of the triple header, a long weekend, “A quick little getaway,” his mother called it. Carlos lets out some built-up steam, alright, by fucking you every chance he gets over the course of the 4-day vacation. 

“You know what it does to me when you wear this dress, amorita,” Carlos’ breath hits your sweaty skin as he runs his nose down the length of your throat, “maybe I should rip it when I’m done with you, hm? De esa manera no puedes tentarme más.” That way you can't tease me anymore. You try shaking your head as a response which elicits a mocking chuckle from him, the way he bucks his hip driving him further deep inside you. The strangled moan that rips from the back of your throat has you throwing your head back, which causes Carlos to quickly, but gently, tug on your chin to make you look back up at him. “Eyes on me, cariño.” 

His hips continue their rushed movements as he keeps his eyes locked to yours, your lips opening in an attempt to make him see reason. “Carlos, they’ll hear us.” You think he’ll ignore you once again, like he did when he was frantically pulling you away from the pathway which leads to the courtyard both of you were supposed to be making your way over for dinner with his parents. 

With one last thrust of his lips, which pulls yet another moan from your lips. “I won’t let anyone see you like this; you know that don’t you?” His tone is sweet despite the way he’s breathing deeply in an attempt to organise his breathing, the way he uses the tip of his pointer finger to caress down your blushed cheek, sending shivers down your spine. Although you manage to nod your head, there is a small smile on his lips as he reminds you, “Words, amorita.”

“I- I know that,” you breathe out a ragged breath, hand gripping Carlos’ shirt tighter in the process, “you’re far too jealous to let anyone see.” 

“Always such wits, amor,” he drags the tip of his finger towards your lips, “maybe I’ll just have to fuck you harder to remind you how much you love my possessive side.” 

“You are insane,” you pant, letting out another moan when he shifts his hips to continue his movements even deeper, “is that why you pulled me here? To fuck me into the wall because you were jealous?” 

His voice is hoarse against your skin as he drags his hand down your face to your neck towards your chest to grope your breast. “I made you a promise, remember?” 

And you do. You remember the hushes whispers and promises shared before the New Year’s, and the sweet kiss you’ve shared afterwards. Your eyes soften as realisation sinks in, his determined gaze on yours suddenly making more sense. His hand is rough as he kneads the skin of your breast, his fingers quickly find your pebbled nipple, which has you whining. “I do- I do remember.” You manage to get out as you do your best to focus on his command from earlier. 

“Good, so be a good girl for me and hang on tight, hm?” He gives you enough time for you to organise yourself; your hands grab the flower arranging table underneath you firmly and it makes you receive a pleased hum from him as he keeps up the movement of his hips whilst also making you wrap your legs around him, a hand firmly placed on your upper thigh. “Eyes on me, cariño.” He reminds you.

You comply, of course, and his thrusts keep getting deeper and deeper every time his hips finds yours because of the new position. There is nothing innocent about the way the sounds of your skin slapping off of each other echo in the stuffy greenhouse, mixed with your moans calling out his name over and over again. He knows you well enough to know your tells when you’re getting closer, and he knows your body well enough to know that you won’t be able to hang on for too long. 

The way you scream out Carlos’ name when you feel his fingers drawing circles on your clit is nothing short of animalistic, the way he whispers praises to your lips is lost to you as you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Carlos,” his name leaves your mouth in a desperate moan, followed by a softer and more pleading, “Carlos, please.” 

“Ask me nicely, amor.” His smile is almost devilish as he mumbles the words to your lips, his fingers slowing down their movements until you give him what he wants. His free hand tighten around your upper thigh in warning as he adds, “No continuaré si no lo pides amablemente.” I won't continue if you don't ask nicely.

You bite back a snarky comment, hyperaware of the fact that he is a man of his word and will leave you unsatisfied on the table by yourself if you don’t give him what he wants. “Por favor déjame correrme.” Please let me cum. The next moan that comes out of your lips come off more as a broken sob as he resumes his fingers’ movement on your bundle of nerves and his hips speeding up their movements to get you there, and you can’t help but chant “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The continuous moans that keep coming out of your mouth, in which you are begging him to make you cum causes his hips to continue their movement rather sharply. Your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure as your visions gets blurry, but you make a point to maintain eye contact with Carlos while he guides you through your orgasm. He only lets himself come undone once you’re done, but unintentionally clench around him due to still feeling sensitive. Hearing your name come through his lips in a guttural moan causes you attempt to bring him closer by tightening your legs around him. 

After a few moments of calmness, you whine at the loss of contact as Carlos pulls out slowly, careful enough to not hurt you. Just as he begins tucking himself back to his pants you attempt to fix your own clothing, but he’s quick to stop you as he says, “Stay on the table, cariño.” 

You choose to nod, not trusting your voice. He’s gentle with you as he pulls up your underwear up your legs and fixes the top and the skirt of your dress. You watch him with sleepy eyes as you ask, “Do you think it took this time?”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” he smiles softly at you while getting some of your tangled hair out of your face, “do you think it did?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, suddenly shy in front of him for no reason – but he is quick to divert the situation by cutting your feet off the ground by carrying you bridal style, which has you squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck, “Carlos!”

 He lets out a laugh a laugh as he walks out of the greenhouse and the colder air outside has you snuggling closer to his body for heat. His voice is light as he mumbles, “Well, this brings back memories.” 

“You say as if our wedding was a decade ago.” You complain, scrunching up your nose in disagreement. You let a confused hum when he starts walking back to the villa. “We’re supposed to–”

“I’ll tell my parents you were feeling ill,” he raises an eyebrow, “unless you want to sit with them for the rest of the night with my cum still–”

“Carlos!” You exclaim, making him quickly drop the rest of the sentence as he stars laughing. “This is not funny, you know.” 

“Oh it is plenty funny, cariño.” Carlos objects, “We can always tell my parents we were trying for a baby.” He is quick to add, “Not, the literal way, loca,” after receiving a bewildered look from you. 

You sigh as you shrug, “I mean, we could.” 

He agrees with a hum, “We’ll talk about it later, now go to sleep, I know you will before I make it back to the room anyway.”

“Mhm, you know me too well.” You mumble as you bury your face into his neck. 

“That I do, cariño.” He mumbles as he presses a gentle kiss to your hair “That I do.”

[stuffeddeer]

15!dazai is overtaking my brain bc just imagine him taking u to an arcade and trying to win u a plushie at the claw machine bc he noticed u staring at it but failing miserably and he refuses to give up until he gets that plushie

“It’s okay, Dazai, let’s just move on,” you laughed slightly, amused by his determined expression as he failed once again.

“This stupid claw machine is rigged!” He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder with a pout.

Nodding in agreement, you try and tug him away. “Exactly. So let’s move on, ‘kay?”

A small child ran by, the same brown plush design that was flaunted inside the claw machine was grasped in her hands. Dazai lifted his head up to look at you, to which you only sighed. “Her parent probably got it for her, don’t— “

Four more quarters were slotted into the machine that only needs two to play, the lights flickering as its speakers started playing the same grating song.

Seven dollars. He’d already blown seven dollars in quarters on this stupid machine with nothing to show for it, and you were growing bored. “If you’re gonna try and win this plushie for me, I’m gonna try and find one for you.”

He nods dismissively, too focused on trying to line up the dangling claw. The sight makes you smile: it was always nice to see him act his age, too used to the serious Dazai that ruled by Mori’s side. Sliding 4 quarters from his pocket, you vanished to the other side of the row of machines. Hm… what would he like…

“WHA— Hey!” Dazai called your name in shock, and you quickly rushed back to his side. “Look! Look look look!” He was jumping up and down as he finally made it, staring up at the big CONGRATULATIONS! flashing on the display on top of the machine.

You stood in shock. Less than two seconds is how long you must’ve been away from him! How did he..?

Holding the stuffed deer plush he pushed into your hands, you gave him a celebratory kiss on the cheek. “You did it!”

Dazai puffed his chest out confidently, hands on his hips. “Yep! Guess you were just bad luck.”

You deadpanned before hitting him over the head with the plush. “I take my kiss back!” You huff, which only causes Dazai to laugh.

“It’s too late! I got a kiss!” He starts chanting, running away as you chase him through the aisles of the arcade.

you two got kicked out of the arcade after running into a bunch of things. mori had to pay to replace a machine and he was pissed 😋

[juyeonszn]

CYBER SEX

PAIRING eric sohn x f!reader x kim sunwoo

WORD COUNT 3.11k

GENRES smut yktv

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, this is Literally Porn With Plot, gamer!eric, gamer!sunwoo, i’m so sorry but sunwoo is a bitchless loser incel until he’s not a bitchless loser incel, eric has Game literally and figuratively, jealous sunwoo 🤭, exhibitionism, voyeurism, phone/video call sex?, vaginal fingering, male masturbation, unprotected sex, going at it on eric’s gamer chair 💪 , a good amount of praise, degradation (the words dumb and slut) 🫨, soft dom!eric, mean? dom!sunwoo, sunwoo is a little mean at one point but i’m not apologizing 😁👍, pet name princess is used, creampie 🥸, sunwoo is an idiot, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY eric is determined to show his best friend the benefits of having a girlfriend.

MORE hey… LMFOAOOO so i ended up finishing this in like… a day… 😭 what can i say ?1?1!1? when i have an idea, i Must stick with it <3 ANYWAY i got the inspiration for this after watching eric’s wv live on 09/25/23 and thus it has consumed my every waking thought since then ajejfwjdnen also shout out to reese to feeding my delusions and another shout out to doja cat for having the most out of pocket songs and titles bc she came in clutch fr 🤞 pls reblog if u enjoyed! i’m exhausted! (also this is not beta’d bc everyone was asleep and i also had to go to sleep so if there are any errors pls lmk)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

“Eric.”

Silence. You hear nothing but the sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking under his fingers from where he sits at his desk. You exhale through your nose, rolling your eyes.

“Eric Sohn.”

Again, you’re given nothing to work with. He curses under his breath, something about him being outnumbered and needing a cover. You don’t even know what game he’s playing, just that he’s been playing it for over an hour. You’re starting to get annoyed.

What kind of boyfriend tells his girlfriend to come over and then plays his stupid online game instead of talking to her?

When you get out of a long day of work, you just want to relax. You don’t want to lay on your boyfriend’s bed all by yourself, forced to watch him play a game you didn’t care for, much less understand. You burn holes into the back of his head when he starts swearing at the screen, hovering over his chair and leaning closer to the PC.

“Youngjae!”

That finally catches his attention, pushing one side of his headset off so he can hear better. He keeps his eyes on the screen but turns his head towards you, humming in response. “What’s up, baby?”

“Is your girlfriend there?”

“Yeah dude, shut up.”

You recognize the other voice as belonging to his best friend, Kim Sunwoo. Your lips form a pout and you flop backward on his bed. “I’m bored. And I wanna cuddle.”

“After this round, I promise.” He smiles at you, returning his focus to the match he was in. His fingers move quickly on the same four backlit keys, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in concentration. From your perspective, it just looked like his character was running aimlessly. (Apparently he had an agenda.)

“Bruh, you said we were gonna play until we won one.” Sunwoo complains. Your mouth forms a scowl. No wonder the guy was still bitchless. He had no concept of how girlfriends were maintained.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” Your boyfriend says into the mic, tone monotone and no mirth behind the words. You know he wasn’t trying to be intimidating, but it kind of turns you on to see him so focused, his jaw slightly tensed and his bottom lip now between his teeth.

It had been about a week since you last did anything sexual, and you think that paired with your mind numbing work day was the cause for your sudden rush of hormones. You’d think dating a gamer would mean he wasn’t skilled in the sexy department, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, being so adept with his fingers made him that much better than the average person. Eric’s eyes narrow when he sees a group of players in the distance.

“Dude, back me up. We can take them, we can take them,” he commands, sitting back down at the same time he starts shooting at the other characters. Sunwoo’s comes into view on the other side of the monitor, also firing at the group of maybe four.

With a lazy sigh, you stand from his bed, sitting yourself on the edge of his desk. He offers you a small smile before resuming the intense gameplay he was engaged in. You cross your legs not so subtly due to his appearance, his hair falling into his eyes and his brows knitted together. You wanted him so bad right now. Fucking Kim Sunwoo would pay for being a cockblock.

You nudge his knee with your foot, silently whining in hopes he gets the hint. He holds a finger up to you, leaning into the monitor again. You know what they say; if you want something done, you gotta do it yourself.

You perch yourself on his lap, grinning in sweet victory when his expression falters and he accidentally releases the mouse from his grip. The momentary distraction is enough for his character to get killed, the screen flashing to showcase Sunwoo’s character’s point of view. Eric’s shoulders sag and he gives you a pointed look. You simply bat your eyelashes at him, lips curling into an innocent simper.

“What the fuck, Eric? You said we could take them.”

“My fault,” he apologizes, reclining in his seat and wrapping an arm around your waist as he watches Sunwoo. “You got this, bro.”

Right as he says that, his character also dies, the monitor reading ‘Match Over’ almost instantaneously. He shares an amused snort with you upon jinxing his best friend, one of his hands rubbing up and down your bare thigh. You can hear Sunwoo cussing him out through his headset. Eric winces, unplugging it from the headphone jack so his friend’s grievances weren’t directly in his ears.

“—And it’s all because you can’t keep your dick in your pants, you fucking horndog.”

You snicker at that, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realize that it might’ve been a little too loud. Eric shakes his head at the other male’s irritation. From where he stood, it sounded a whole lot like jealousy rather than anger. The guy really needed to get laid before gaming consumed him entirely and he stayed a loser incel for the rest of his life. Eric was lucky enough to have you in his corner.

“What’s so funny, Y/N?”

“You,” you shrug even if he can’t see it. “I think it’s kinda comical that you’re mad Eric gets pussy. You should take notes, Kim.”

Your boyfriend bursts into uncontrollable laughter, squeezing your thigh gently. You can hear Sunwoo sputter over your words, stumbling and stuttering every time he opens his mouth to speak. You’ve rendered him speechless, because you’re right. He is jealous that Eric has a girlfriend.

If it were any other girl, he doesn’t think he’d give a shit. But it was you. He wasn’t envious of the fact that his best friend was cuffed and he wasn’t. He was envious of the fact that he had you.

Something that doesn’t get brought up a lot, is how Sunwoo actually introduced you to Eric. He knew you first. Naturally, he thought that his tiny crush on you would blossom into something greater, especially because you saw each other twice a week. You were lab partners for Gen Chem and you became friends outside of class pretty quickly. He didn’t think he was terrible looking, and his personality wasn’t that bad either, so he hoped you might’ve been into him too.

And then you met Eric. God, he should’ve known bringing you together was a horrible idea. His best friend was not only extremely handsome, but also quite the flirt and a little too friendly. You were hooked from the get go. Sunwoo really shouldn’t have been that surprised when the two of you started dating.

That didn’t mean it didn’t suck though, having you constantly ask about Eric during your lab and slowly watching you distance yourself the closer you grew to him. It explained why you were so comfortable shitting on his lack of relationship experience, because once upon a time, you were something he could confide in. It was actually sort of hilarious that you were the same reason why he lacked said experience.

Now it’s been over a year and he still doesn’t think he could ever fully get over you.

“Damn, Sunwoo, you really just got your ass handed to you.”

The older of the two males deadpans at his screen, despite knowing neither of you can see him. But now that he’s been backed into a corner, all he can do is save face. “Having a girlfriend is the least of my worries.”

Eric hums, unconvinced. “Maybe I just have to show you what you’re missing out on.”

You turn in his lap, raising an eyebrow. What the hell did he mean by that?

Luckily for you, you don’t have to wonder for much longer. He clicks on his and Sunwoo’s chat in the bottom taskbar, pressing the video call button and allowing it to ring for a few seconds. This gives you the smallest idea of what he has in mind, and deep, deep down, you’re excited by the thought.

Sunwoo answers after the fourth ring, his face appearing in its own window on Eric’s monitor, pouty lips formed in a straight line and headset hidden under his hoodie. He looks sexy like that, in his element. You would never admit that out loud though. He was too attractive for his own good. He didn’t even know what to do with the beauty bestowed on him, resorting to being a gamer who holed himself away in his apartment.

“What am I supposedly missing out on then?” He finally says, and even with the not-so-stellar quality of his video, you recognize that dark look in his eyes. It has you shifting uncomfortably on Eric’s lap, desperate for some friction.

“Well first of all,” your boyfriend starts, brushing your hair behind your shoulder and sneaking a hand under the t-shirt of his you were wearing. “You should cut your losses now. Because no one could ever be better than my precious, Y/N.”

You crane your neck to the side, giving his lips access to your skin. He starts to pepper gentle kisses along the side, making eye contact with you in the smaller window that reflects yourself. Your mouth parts with a sigh when he reaches that sensitive spot just below your ear, and again when he nips at the juncture where it meets your shoulder.

It’s hard to focus on anything but Sunwoo’s expression and the way his jaw clenches upon not being able to touch you himself. And fuck, if Eric wasn’t right. He could never truly find anyone better than you. This was the closest he’d ever get to the real deal.

“You gonna be a good girl for Sunwoo, baby?” Eric murmurs into your ear, nibbling the lobe as his hand travels further up your shirt to palm your bare breast. You merely nod, a small whine escaping your lips when his thumb grazes your peaked nipple.

“Are you seriously about to fuck your girlfriend in front of me?” His best friend asks, voice a bit strained. The concept of you naked in just his head was enough to have him creaming his pants like a goddamn high schooler. But actually getting to see it with his own eyes? Getting to see your face when you orgasm? He doesn’t think he has the mental strength.

“Do you not want me to?” Eric slips his free hand between your legs, pushing your panties to the side. “I can easily end this call and keep this all to myself.”

Your boyfriend takes his silence as an answer, continuing to pleasure you. He helps you pull off the t-shirt, exposing your chest to both him and his best friend. Sunwoo holds his breath, leaning back into his gaming chair with his bottom lip between his teeth. You raise one of your legs, placing your foot on Eric’s knee to give him a clearer view of what’s going on with your lower half.

Eric holds the thin material of your underwear out of the way, languidly thrusting his ring and middle fingers into your hole. You rest your head on his shoulder with a low moan, observing Sunwoo’s different reactions, though he tries to mask them. Even he knows he’s doing a shitty job, because how could any sane person not lose their mind perceiving what he is.

“Need more,” you whimper, tongue darting out to swipe across your lips. “I need more, please…”

“Well, since you asked so kindly,” Eric grins against the side of your head, kissing your temple as he adds a third finger and begins to circle your clit with his thumb. “How could I say no to you, princess?”

The stretch burns slightly, but not too much that it distracts from how good you feel. You half wished your boyfriend suggested this a long time ago. Having someone else’s eyes on you while he fucked you open with his fingers just added more fuel to the fire, rousing the squelching sound your pussy made. The fact that it happened to be Kim Sunwoo just made the experience that much thrilling.

Your heavy eyes glance back to the screen, getting a glimpse of his entranced face. It took everything in him to bite his cheek and keep his mouth shut, longing to extend an arm through his PC and put his own hands all over you. You looked so hot, legs splayed open so he had a perfect view of Eric’s fingers scissoring in and out of your cunt.

“Please, Eric…” You plead. For what? You’re not sure yourself.

“What do you want, baby?”

“Want you to fuck me for real,” you attempt to meet his fingers, telling him all he needs to know.

He grabs your jaw and turns you to face him so he can kiss you, lips moving against yours so softly you might melt in the palms of his hands. You aid him with ridding his pants and his briefs, shoving them down to his ankles so he can kick them off. Your mouth nearly waters, having missed his cock in the past week you’d been apart.

You take a hold of the edge of his desk, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he slips the tip of his dick into the warmth of your cunt. A drawn out whine bubbles up from your throat, risking a look at Sunwoo. He’s still, legs manspread and arms crossed over his chest. By the time Eric’s bottomed out, you’re no longer coherent, brain jumbled.

Your boyfriend begins to move after allowing you to adjust to the fullness of his cock sheathed to the hilt in you. You sit back on him, practically cradling his head as he leisurely fucks you. In spite of him moving without a rush, you can feel all of him, so deep inside of you, you think you could faint.

“You’re— oh god— Eric…” you moan, unable to formulate a comprehensive sentence.

He chuckles lowly, the sound reverberating along your spine. “Don’t forget to include our guest, baby.”

“T-Take off your pants, Sun,” your tone wavers, vision cutting in and out as Eric’s pace increases. “Wanna see you get yourself off…”

Sunwoo groans, covering his face and dragging his hand down to his mouth. He’d barely put his dick inside of you and you already looked so fucked out. He wants to follow through with your wishes, but how can he with your boyfriend right there? Then again, it was Eric’s idea to do this and he did have you spread out in front of him. He needed to act fast, for this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

He pushes his sweatpants and underwear down mid thigh, freeing his painfully hard cock. He doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed by the pearl of precum that’s sitting pretty on his slit, using his thumb to smear it around his tip. You mewl, digging your nails in the armrest of Eric’s chair and tugging at his hair.

Your boyfriend’s best friend grabs the base of his dick hesitantly, sighing when it brings momentary relief. He starts to jerk the shaft, twisting his wrist and pumping his hand up and down. He feels so much lighter, like a part of his guilty conscience had just been lifted from his chest. He didn’t have to feel so ashamed of jerking himself off to the thought of you now that he’d been given permission to do so. And in front of you, nonetheless.

“Fucking look at you,” Sunwoo all but growls, fist wrapped tightly around his cock as he bucks up into his hand, head falling back with a groan. “Nothing but talk, aren’t you? Getting off to the loser watching you get fucked like a dumb slut.”

You moan loudly, keeping your hooded eyes on his video. Eric tightens his grip around your hips, holding you in place as he fucks up into you almost brutally, face buried into the crook of your neck. You feel insane, Sunwoo’s degradation inching you closer and closer to your sweet release.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Eric coos, pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulders. “Taking me so fucking well, like the good girl you are.”

The contrast between the two males’ approach has your head spinning. On one hand, you had your doting boyfriend and his endless praise. The thought of impressing him always multiplied the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You wanted to do anything and everything to keep him satisfied. On the other hand, you had Sunwoo and the string of near insults he kept hurling at you. Something about him calling you demeaning names while still fucking his own fist at the sight of you had those butterflies going rampant.

“I’m— shit— I’m so s-so close,” you babble, reaching down to rub ovular motions into your already sensitive clit.

Sunwoo didn’t think he’d last long from the second he touched himself, so he can’t imagine what will happen when he takes in you orgasming. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, tasting the bitter metal-like flavor of the red fluid as his hand speeds up.

“Cum for me, princess,” Eric groans in your ear, fingers sliding down to help you apply more pressure to your clit. “Cum all over my cock for Sunwoo.”

You wail as you hit your climax, toes curling and back arching into your boyfriend’s chest. Your walls squeeze around his dick, triggering his own release. He paints the inside of your cunt with sticky white ropes and a grunt, plugging you up as your breathing regulates and your body stops shaking. You both gaze through the monitor as his cum starts to leak out of you, your pussy filled with so much that you’re surprised he didn’t pass out.

Sunwoo follows after that, coating his hands and thighs in his own ejaculation. He sits there for a minute, eyes closed as he process what the fuck just happened. Once the fogginess of the moment subsided, he feels his heart rate spike. Now that he knows what you look and sound like, how could he ever see you the same?

“Uh, woah that’s crazy, someone’s calling me. Gotta go, bye!” He lies, ending the call before either you or Eric can properly register his words. He reclines in his chair with a pinch of the bridge of his nose.

There was no going back from this.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[thehighladywrites]

The Airhead chronicles

…and the run-in.

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: suggestive themes, cassian getting bricked up bc reader is super cute, reader being an absolute sweetheart, daddy cassian radiating big dick energy. cassian runs into you while he runs errands, peaking his curiosity. he’s determined to find out more about his mysterious mate. what were you doing in velaris and how the hell did she have a house in the most fancy and exclusive neighborhood? cassian himself had been on the waiting list for over 60 years… he asks her out on a date to find out more.

-> Author’s note: This one is my favorite so far, I’m trying to build a mysterious air around reader bc she might not be bright but best believe she’s a baddie. Also if you see any typos, no you didn’t

Part one Part three

Cassian was going insane.

He only knew your name and where you lived and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything about you. What made you smile, cry, laugh, pissed off. What kind of food you like, your favorite color - He wanted to know you inside and out.

Your little kiss had left him with a thundering heart and a hard cock. It was a wonder that he didn’t break down your door and storm in just to be in your presence for a few seconds.

He almost felt embarrassed as he stood behind a building, watching you enter the coffee shop across Feyre’s art studio. Cassian wasn’t stalking you or anything, he genuinely happened to spot you strolling through the streets while he was running errands. Panic took over and his first insight was to hide.

The streets of Velaris echoed with the enchanting click of your 5-inch, black platform heels, announcing your arrival. You had such a light around you, smiling at strangers and kids. Your outfit, showcasing a black, sexy yet sophisticated skirt paired with a white top, black sheer tights, and a maroon bag thrown over your shoulder, exuded a captivating sense of style. The only reminiscent element of your previous style Cassian saw that night, was the attention-grabbing almost stripper heels.

Your unconventional fashion choice, though beautiful, set you apart from the usual attire of Night Court women, revealing that you were not a native of this place. What brought you to Velaris? Cassian pondered if your stylish yet professional outfit hinted at a specific job or occupation.

Decided that he wanted some answers, he made his way to the coffee shop. His ears picked up on your sweet voice as it was heard throughout the shop.

“Hi, how are you? Can i please have a caramel latte with extra caramel and whipped cream on top? Okay, thank you!!” You had your hands behind your arms as you hummed a little song. The ring of the door bell caught your attention as you whipped your head to the door, your freshly styled hair swaying. Your heart started beating faster as you saw who walked through the door. Letting out a shriek, you threw yourself in Cassians arms as you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. “ Hi Cassie!! Whatcha doin here?” His hands tightened around your waist as he smelled your intoxicating perfume when you pressed your soft body against his hard one.

“ Hi there, darling. I was just walking around town and decided to stop for some coffee. What are you doing?” He flipped the question, praying that you wouldn’t sense his lie. Curiously, Cassian also wondered about your destination as you appeared business-ready and on the move. The barista called your name and you skipped over to get your sweet drink. It was honestly a wonder your teeth hadn’t rotted away, you loved eating sweet things. “ I’m just getting a little something to drink. Um, actually, can you hold my drink, I just need to get my money out.” Your painted lips had a cute pout as your brows furrowed in concentration, pulling out your money. “Nonsense, I’ll pay for your drink, since I owe you one, remember.” You looked up at him with big eyes. “ Thanks Cassie, you’re such a nice guy!” He merely laughed, “Paying for a lady’s drink is a standard courtesy, sweetheart.” You smiled and sipped on your drink, blushing furiously.

Oh, he looked so good today. Perhaps because it was night, you didn’t see his face clearly, because he was looking a million times hotter than he did thst night. So ruggedly handsome and manly, ugh you were totally turning into mush…

After paying for your drinks and ordering his own, he opened the door for you and offered you his elbow but you opted to grip his bicep instead. Your stomach flipped as you felt the hard muscle ripple with each step. Wow, he must work out like everyday to look like this. “ Wanna taste my drink, Cassie?” you offered as you pushed the hot drink in his face.

He didn’t have it in him to tell you that he absolutely didn’t drink sweet drinks, in fact he hated them. It was too much sugar and he always stuck to his strict routine and food habits, and you had ordered not only a caramel latte, it was also one with extra caramel and whipped cream on top. Basically death in a cup, a stark contrast from his black coffee.

But Cassian took one look at you and folded. Your eyes had hope in them and he’d rather have his wings shredded than kill that shine. “ Sure, I’ll have some, pretty. “

It was an effort not to make a face as the sickly sweet drink hit his tongue but you seemed so happy and he’d drink the whole thing with no complaints if you’d ask him. Your giggles brought him back from his thoughts as he looked at you curiously.

“Whatcha laughing at? Something on my face?”

You flashed him an adorable smile and said,

” You got some of my lipgloss on your lips, just give me ooooone second. There we go! You looked so silly!” He froze when you took your thumb and wiped away the gloss on his soft lips. His legs felt like jelly when you just grabbed his bicep and dragged him along, telling him about your plans for the day.

Man, you were going to be the death of him.

“You have everything? Or is there something else you need, sweetheart?” Gods, you wanted to plant a fat kiss right ln his lips. Would that be wrong? No, of course not!! Hmm… Maybe at the end of the shopping spree? “ Mhm, I have everything, Cassie,” you coo’d gently, watching as his arms bulged from carrying so many bags.

He had spent the entire day with you, bouncing from store to store. He absolutely didn’t let you pay, insisting that you’d never pay for a single thing in his presence. Carrying your bags was out of the question aswell, he told you to just look pretty and grab his arm, which you didn’t say no to. Finally he escorted you home again, and this time he truly payed attention to where you lived. You lived in a massive townhouse in the nicest neighborhood of Velaris, he was curious on how you managed to snag something like this. These neighborhoods had been incredibly difficult to find houses in, let alone such a fine house such as your own. It made him wonder what you worked with or if you had inherited it somehow.

There was a mysterious air surrounding you that he was just dying to find out about. In his eyes, you were something of a puzzle that needed solving. He recognized the hypocrisy of his statement as he also hadn’t told you much about himself, but he could feel it in his bones that there was more to you.

No, he couldn’t let this be, Cassian wanted to get to know his mate, so he asked you out.

“ Go on a date with me, Y/n. Does tomorrow work for you?” You tilted your head and meekly told him something that made him smile.

”Yay, that sounds so much fun, I’ll be wearing something pink. Hmm, or maybe green… No, no definitely pink! What heels should I wear though?… “ Cassian felt his heart beating faster as his cheeks heated. You stood infront of your stairs as you pondered over what hairstyle you were going to pick.

He stepped closer, towering over you as you felt his heat radiating from his chest. “I’ll pick you up at 8, be ready by then sweetheart.” Cassian was hit by deja vu as you once again stood on your tippy toes and gave his cheek a kiss, leaving a lipstain print on his cheek. “ Can’t wait, Cassie!! See you tomorrow.”

He gave your forehead a kiss, right by your hairline as he got a wiff of your shampoo. You smelt heavenly and he didn’t want to let you go. But it was only until tomorrow evening and if he didn’t have the power to wait until then, then he had some serious issues. “ It’s a date then, pretty girl.” He watched as you smiled at him before skipping inside and locking your door.

Cassian felt your excitement through the bond, and felt happier than he had in a long time. He simply couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[withahappyrefrain]

Summary: After teasing and disobeying Bob, you get your well deserved punishment.

Warning: Choking (yes this is the bicep choking fic), dash of size kink, lots of sex, oral (both receiving), language, mean dom Bob bc I'm a whore

"Darlin'. Behave." His voice is low, gravely in your ear. His fingers gently squeeze the flesh on your hip. To others, it looks nothing out of the ordinary. Just Bob, whispering sweet nothings to his partner.

If only they knew.

You let out a confused hum, tilting your head up to face his. The smile on your face is innocent, unassuming. The same smile that Jake swears was the key to him figuring out that you were married to Bob, stating that y'all looked like 'you just stepped out of a movie musical from the fifties'.

You didn't wear long dresses and skirts because you felt a kinship to a particular decade.

Rather, the extra fabric made it easier to cover yourself while Bob fucked you in his truck. 

Which is exactly what you wanted to be doing right now instead of watching Jake and Bradley argue over a round of pool.

Usually wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing your back into his chest did the trick. Apparently watching two grown men argue was too distracting.

So you began to move your hips, subtly grinding your ass against his crotch. Bob simply squeezed the flesh of your hips, sending a subtle reminder back.

That just wouldn't do.

God, you had been aching for him all day. And yes, it was a bit greedy to still want him after he gave up arriving on time tonight in order to eat you out. Truly, you had hoped the act would be enough until you two returned home. 

But he just looked so good in his white T Shirt. Bob was always handsome, but you loved it when he dressed casually. The soft fabric of his shirt hugged his muscles that he didn't show very often. It seemed that people often forget that Bob had to stay physically fit for his job, that he also had to do two hundred push ups.

You never forgot.

"Just a little bit longer, then we'll go home. Kay?" Bob whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You nodded your head, despite being unsatisfied with his response. Stilling your body, it appeared that you understood his request.

Bob slung an arm around your shoulder, his hand near your breasts, but just out of reach. Your thighs clenched at the sight of his fingers, thinking about how earlier he had used them to make you come so hard your legs shook.

So your hips began their ministrations again. To onlookers, it looked as though you were simply swaying to the music playing from the old jukebox.

Bob knew the truth.

The grip he had on your hip tightened, his lips trailing from your forehead to your ear, "What did I just say?"

"I like this song," you stated, shrugging your shoulders. It was fun, seeing how far you could push him. Bob was pretty good at keeping up the facade, as if his cock wasn't growing erect underneath his jeans.

If things were up to you, his cock would be growing inside you while your back was pressed into the mattress.

Instead, you were still at the Hard Deck, Bob seemingly determined not to break.

"Y'know I'm gonna fuck you when we get home, right?" He whispered, pulling you closer to him, hoping the promise would be enough to satiate you. 

"I know," you said with a sweet smile. No one thought anything odd of your exchange because it looked like a normal conversation you and Bob were having. 

If only they knew. 

Your hand trailed up from his thigh to the back of his neck. His hair was soft, curling thanks to the hat he had on. That old trucker hat that he always wore when he wasn't in uniform. 

Bob let out a strangled grunt upon feeling you tug his hair. The sensation only lasted for a few seconds, your hand moving quickly back to his thigh. 

He was stunned, or so he appeared. 

His arm swiftly moved up your chest. Your eyes bulged upon feeling his bicep against your neck, restricting your airway. 

The action was brief, his bicep gone before anyone could see anything. But the sensation, how easy it was for him to choke you, how he didn't have to move his arm that much because the muscle was so big, remained in your brain, replaying over and over again, your thighs clenching. 

"That made you wet, didn't it?' He asked, chuckling. As if he just witnessed something amusing, rather than choking you in public. 

"Why don't you go check?" 

His stare burned into the back of your head. You didn't need to look, you knew his icy blue eyes were narrower, his nostrils flaring as he thought about what you just implied. 

"You heard me," you whispered, words smug. 

Bob's hand moved quickly. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your eyes widened. Within seconds after slapping your face, that same hand was now gripping your chin, tilting it upwards so he could press a kiss to your lips. 

No one noticed. 

He had been so fast, that it looked like he was simply cupping your chin to kiss you. 

How sweet. 

No one noticed how his hand was trailing up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, moving towards the space in between your thighs. 

No one noticed how his eyes widened when his hand felt your soaked folds rather than cotton. 

“This whole night?” Bob asked. 

"Wanted to be ready for ya," was the only explanation you gave him. 

It was all you needed. 

Bob didn't let you get that far into the house. As soon as you reached the living room, your knees were on the carpet. The soft material brushed against your face as your legs were pried apart. 

"Ya think you're so big for that fucking stunt, don't you?" His hands were rough, grabbing your hips, pushing them towards his. 

A desperate moan fell from your lips upon feeling his clothed erection against your bare ass. 

"Should have fucked you right then and there. But you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You couldn't help but let out a needy whine upon hearing the sound of him unzipping his jeans.

"But you'd like that too much, wouldn’t ya?" His voice was sinful, low and gruff as he repeated himself, indicating he wanted a response. 

It took some time for Bob to be this comfortable around you. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries, and quite frankly, part of him was worried you wouldn't be into it. 

He was so wrong. 

For as much as you liked being in charge, there were times where you didn't want to make decisions, to think through every action. You wanted to be daring, to be reckless. 

Most of all, you wanted someone to reign you in, to call the shots. 

It worked out well, for Bob only had so much control in his daily life. He didn't call the shots, that was ultimately up to his pilot. He couldn't control what others did up in the air. 

But in this moment, he could control you. Could mold you to how he saw fit. He could make you cum over and over until your legs shook or edge you till tears ran down your face. 

He had options, choices. Something he reminded himself as he felt your bare cunt grinded itself against his denim covered crotch. 

His large hand found your ass, roughly grabbing your soft flesh, practically marveling at your curves. 

“Only want you Robby. Only you,” You pleaded, your voice music to Bob’s ears. 

“God, you’re so soft,” He murmured into your ear, his fingers finding their way to your soaked folds, “Want all of ya.”

You moaned as his fingers thrusted into you, finding that special spot with a precision and quickness that only Bob possessed. 

The sound of his name said in broken moans filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your wetness as his fingers continued his ministrations, his thumb finding your clit. 

With anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how desperate and loud you were. But god, his fingers were so thick and made you feel so fucking good. Bob knew your body like the back of his hand, every curve, every spot that drove you closer to the edge. 

And you’re so close, you need just a few more thrusts, a few more rough circles drawn on your clit and you would be seeing stars when you closed your eyes. 

But you didn’t deserve that. Not after what you just pulled. 

Which is why Bob responds to your tears and pleads when he pulls out with a harsh slap against your cunt. Pleasure laced pain courses through your body, your own fingers gripping the rug for purchase. 

“Don’t you dare. Turn around and show me how bad you want to come and maybe then I’ll think about it,” Bob ordered. His words caused your walls to clench around nothing. 

You maneuvered your body so that you were now looking up at him. His erection was straining against his clothes, his cock impossible to ignore. 

Quickly, your fingers found the buttons of his jeans, undoing them enough so you could easily pull down both his pants and boxers to his knees. 

Your mouth all but salivated at the sight of his cock, now resting against his abdomen. 

Bob had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. It was perfect, not too thick, curved ever so slightly, which allowed him to hit that spot with every thrust. 

You moaned as your lips touched the plush tip, tongue lapping up the precum that had formed. The vibrations sent shivers down Bob's spine, a deep grunt falling from his lips, his hands gripping your shoulders. 

He used his hands to gently guide your mouth further down his cock. Your cheeks hollowed out, trying to take in as much of him as you could. 

"Just like that sweetheart, f-fuck." Bob could maintain his composure thousands of feet up in the air, but as soon as your pretty mouth was wrapped around his cock, all bets were off. Your mouth was heaven and he loved how eager you were to show him you were able to take so much of him now. 

Drool began seeping down your chin as your head bobbed up and down, taking in as much as you comfortably could. 

His call sign never stood for baby on board. 

"Ya want me to come in your mouth? Or that pretty little pussy of yours?" His words made you want to rub your thighs together, an urge you were desperately fighting, not wanting to risk any more punishments. 

You looked up at Bob and he wished he could take a picture. Wide eyes and your mouth wrapped around his cock. You were beautiful and all his.

And boy, did Bob Floyd fucking love it. 

His fingers gripped your chin, guiding your head away from his cock, "I asked you a question darlin. You gonna give me an answer or do I need to teach you some manners again?" 

"I want you to come in my pussy. Please." 

Bob chuckled, "So polite for a dirty little girl. Turn around." 

And that was your punishment. He'll fuck you, he'll let you come, but you couldn't see him unless he let you. You couldn't kiss Bob unless he wanted to. 

He entered you swiftly, eliciting a near scream from you. 

"Robby!" 

No one had ever made you feel so good, so full before. Bob wasted no time, knowing you were prepared thanks to this afternoon. 

"Fuck, taking my cock s-so good, angel," his voice was shaky, his breath hot on your ear. Even if you were in trouble, he couldn't help but praise you. 

You tilted your head up, hoping he would act on pure instincts and kiss you. 

His lips ghosted over your face, cerulean eyes nearly all but closed as he reveled in the feeling of your warm cunt clenching around his cock. 

"S'big Robby, I-" 

"Shhh," he pressed his lips to your forehead, "You don't have to think. Just let me use that pretty little pussy of yours." 

He snaked an arm around your neck, tightening his grip so his bicep pressed against your throat. Now you had no choice but to look up at him. 

Broken, choked gasps filled your living room, swirling with the sounds of Bob's hips meeting yours. All you could do was take it, his cock repeatedly brushing against the spot that made your toes curl and your back arch in pleasure. 

Before you met Bob, you didn't think that spot even existed. 

"You gonna make a mess all over my cock? C'mon baby, you can do it," Bob flexed his bicep, further restricting your airflow. 

That one movement broke the dam. Your legs shook as white hot pleasure ran through your body. Bob, ever the doting husband, was quick to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you up while your orgasm took over your body. 

"Please don't stop," you're begging and you don't care. Every thrust prolongs your pleasure. All you can focus on, all you care about is your husband and how his cock is sending you to a pleasurable bliss. 

"S'pretty, want another one," Bob's chest was pressed against your back, his hand snaking to just above where you two connected. 

His fingers, calloused from years of work, felt heavenly on your clit. 

The pleasure was now rolling through you in waves. Each thrust, each swipe of your clit sent you reeling. If it weren't for the arm Bob and around your neck and collarbone, you weren't sure you'd be able to hold yourself up. 

"C'mon baby, so fucking pretty. Know you got another one in ya. Fuck, you feel so good. C-can't believe I get ya all to myself, love you s'much," his words were beginning to slur, as if he was drunk off of you. 

It was one of your favorite parts about having sex with Bob. When his words began to slur, when the only things he could intelligibly say were praises for you, the only thing he could focus on was you. 

Between Bob's praises and the circles his thumb was drawing on your clit, your eyes closed as pleasure took over your body again. You were screaming something, could feel your throat strain as you spoke. But what exactly it was, you couldn’t say. 

A large hand cradled the back of your head, the other maneuvering your legs so they were wrapped around a lithe waist.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself lying on your bed, a pair of blue eyes staring back at you. 

"Hey darlin," Bob's voice was soft as his nose glided over your cheek, "Wanna keep going?" 

You weakly nodded, your hands reaching up to his hair. 

"Use your words darlin," Bob reminded, fucking his head down to press gentle kisses and nips across your neck. 

"Want," you whined, causing Bob to sink his teeth into your collarbone, "Want you to come inside me Robby! Please!" 

A low, guttural groan came from your husband, "Fuck, how did I get so lucky?" 

His mouth trailed down your body, leaving kisses all over. Your fingers flew to his shoulders when you felt his nose brush against your clit. 

"Robby, you said-" 

"I know," his breath was hot on your most intimate part, "But I just gotta taste ya first, okay?" 

Bob couldn't help it and you knew it too. Yes, he got to taste you earlier. He knew it was bad to be greedy, but your cunt was an exception. 

So he didn't feel bad when his tongue found your soaked folds, lapping up your arousal. It drove Bob wild, getting to taste you. He had to fight the urge to grind his hips against the comforter, wanting to come inside you. 

Your fingers were threading themselves in his sun kissed hair, needing something to hold onto as he groaned against your cunt. 

"S'good," Bob moaned, sending vibrations all along your body. Wanting to keep you ready for him, he thrusted a finger inside you. 

"Robby!" 

Bob simply smirked, knowing your walls could feel the cool, smooth metal of his wedding band. He continues making languid thrusts against that spongy spot, the one that he knows drives you wild, makes your legs shake. 

Besides, you were still being punished. You wanted to come so badly tonight, so Bob was going to make you come.

Over and over again. 

Your back arched as his tongue continued to lap at your clit, sensitivity surging through you. 

While your release came in a smaller wave this round, it was still intense. Your fingers gripped the soft strands of Bob's hair, hips jerking upwards in a shameless attempt to get more of Bob's mouth. 

"What's wrong? Thought ya wanted my cock darlin," Bob smirked when he pulled away. 

It was impressive how after five years he could still take you by surprise. You open your eyes, his words making you want to sit up. 

Instead, your husband's lips crashed onto yours, his large hands pushing you back down to the mattress. 

"Asked ya a question darlin. Gonna give me an answer?" 

Two could play the game. 

Your fingers gripped his hair, nails brushing against his scalp as you tugged on the locks, pulling his head back. 

"You gonna fuck me?" 

You could only place a few love bites on his neck before you were back on your knees, face against the pillow. 

"When did you get so bold?" The rural drawl laced his deep voice, his breath hot on your neck. 

"Since you stopped fucking me." That was the final straw. Bob quickly lined his cock to your entrance and thrusted in without a warning, sending you practically reeling. 

"Fuck Bob!" 

"That's what I'm trying t'do," he snarled, his hips quickly meeting yours. 

Any smartass comment died in your throat when Bob's bicep pressed against your neck. God, it was easy to forget how big and strong he was. He tried to hide it, tried to make himself small, make himself blend in by hunching over, by not taking up as much space. 

Which was why you loved it when he displayed his strength. He didn't have to flex much, if at all, to have the muscle against your throat, restricting your airway. 

"Can tell how much ya love that from the way you're clenching me so tight." 

You could only let out a strangled hum of agreement, too busy focused on how fucking full you felt every time he bottomed out. 

Bob knew you were getting close. He could tell by the way your breath quickened, your walls clenching around his cock, not wanting it to leave. 

Bob was also very close. Had been for quite a while. But he was raised to be a gentleman and you deserved to come several times before he did. 

His free hand trailed down to where you two connected. Just a little more attention to your clit and Bob would have you right where he desperately needed you. 

All you could do was take his cock, take in the scent of eucalyptus that surrounded him, mixed with the sweat that came from his hard work. 

"M'so close," you weakly groaned, fingers finding purchase in your comforter. 

"I know, just a little more. You can wait for me, I know ya can. Fuck I'm so lucky, married to ya. Ya gonna take it all too, aren't ya? Fuck, I love ya so fucking much." 

He released the grip he had on your throat, turning your head so he could capture your lips once more. 

That was what sent you reeling. That's what made you see galaxies when you closed your eyes. The only thing you could focus on was how good he felt, fucking you, coming inside of you, filling you up with everything he had. 

For what seemed like ages, you two were frozen in place, trying to catch your breath. 

"Darlin, I'm gonna pull out now, 'kay?" Bob finally said, gently pressing a handkerchief to where you two were connected. 

"Can we shower after this?" You mumbled. 

Bob pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "Course we can." 

"With the shower steamer?" 

Bob chuckled, "The rosemary one, right?" 

"Love ya Robby." 

"I love you too darlin'."

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