#can't even be mad because it's so funny and just stupid to me

[springespronge]

???

Assigned male by tiktok user

[saltinesinsoup]

i want to throw a hissyfit so bad right now. like full on toddler tantrum. but i won't. i'm so strong

[medicinemane]

Ah... I've figured it out!

My brain's been treating Caucasus and Carpathian as the same word and that's why it's been so confusing why this mountain range seems to jump around by a pretty wide margin

Dyslexia did the same thing with Austria and Australia where just like here I knew they were different, but just didn't quite process it, which ended up with me thinking things like "Wow, I wonder why Falco's German is so spot on, like that's pretty impressive for an Australian"

Like my dyslexia just says "These two words are similar size and shape... I think they're probably more or less the same word, I'll file them away in the same spot, especially cause they're the same type of thing"

But I finally caught it seeing Carpathians mentioned being in Ukraine, and me being like "I really did think they were more over towards Georgia... maybe they go under the black se... wait a minute, I finally figured out why I'm confused"

Also see the Balkans and the Baltic where I 100% know the difference and know which one I'm talking about but very much may say the wrong one (and my dad's been like "oh you see, you just need to remember that..." and it's like dude it's dyslexia... also with GK Chesterton I'll often say "J" and my dad'll say similar stuff and it's like dude... there's no mnemonic here, J and G just sound and look similar enough my brain sometimes swaps them in behind my back)

Anyway, finally caught it in the act, finally understand why it seemed like these mountains jumped across a large body of water and no one ever commented on it... it's cause it was my dyslexia filing them away as both mountain ranges starting with C so... basically the same thing... yeah... yeah that's the same thing

[mommypieck]

⌗︙・being sukuna's favorite ⸜⸜・

being sukunas favorite in his harem is the biggest honor you could get. as much as you are aware that he fucks someone different every day, you know that at the end of the day, he's gonna come back to you.

"did you stretch that pussy for me?" he asks you, circling your kneeling body on the floor. you're not like the other sluts, he likes you so you can be a little rude.

"yeah, fucked with lots." you reply, smiling cheekily at him. his eyes turn red and he pushes one of his feet in between your legs.

"is that so?" you nod at his question. your hips start to move on his foot, trying to get some relief. if zou were someone else, you would have your head blown off.

"get off my foot." sukuna grits his teeth. he's sure you are joking but he can't help to feel jealousy boiling in his stomach. you lay on the ground in front of him, opening your legs to show him your wet entrance. he's starting to get angry with you know, what made you act this way?

he doesn't waste any time sinking into your tight heat and you suddently feel like you should've stretched yourself for him. he's too big, filling you up to the brim. he's not gentle with your pussy, he's never been and now you made him mad.

"you're still so tight even after so many people fucking you." he jokes, making you giggle. you have to tease him so he doesn't know how easy he can break you.

"i get tighter just for you,king." the nickname makes him moan. he makes everyone call him king but it just sounds sweeter from your lips. he stops his moments to look you deep in the eyes.

"i fuck you good, i breed you every day and i make sure your mouth is fucked. are you really sleeping with other people?"

you smirk at his question. it's funny to see him frustrated because of a stupid joke you made. so many girls claim to be sukuna's favorite but it's certain who's the chosen girl.

"you're my one and only master. now please cum inside me to see how much of your cum i can take."

[bi-writes]

ok wait pause i have a question. first date, but like, real, you are my girlfriend date ? or like how'd they define their relationship (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

he's...fun.

it's just sex. mind-blowing, back-numbing, pussy-destroying sex. this man is pushing 40, and you swear you've never felt so out of breath. you convince yourself it's the military thing--he's used to pushing himself, exerting energy, testing the limits of his stamina. but holy shit, you'd think after round four, this man would take a quick nap or something, but no.

he's still balls-deep, hitting it from the back since you can't even keep yourself upright any longer. your skirt lays haphazardly thrown onto the floor, and oh--there's your panties, too, ripped to lacy shreds.

holy shit, this man is more than ten years older than you, and you've never been so out of your fucking mind--

"tha' the spot, love?" his voice is so condescending. he knows he's got you brainless. there's drool staining your lips, and you paw at the sheets for a better grip, but it's useless.

"y-yes, captain."

the low groan that leaves him makes you smile. he might have the upper hand, but if you really wanted to, you could make him come right now, too fast, too much.

you're in bliss. everything is bliss. you're still recovering from what must be the fifth or sixth orgasm--not as good as the second or third one, but still enough to make you cry fat, pleasured tears. you're shaking, in a good way, sinking to your stomach on the bed and pressing your face into his pillow.

"hmm..." your voice is soft and gooey, and when you take a deep breath, you get a long whiff of him. he smells good. clean. earthy. you tasted cigar smoke in his mouth earlier, and you can smell it here, too. just as you relax, you feel the weight of him on your back, and then his lips. he's kissing along your shoulder to your neck and then up your jaw. you tilt your head to give him room, your eyes shutting as his beard scruffs against your skin and his mouth laps at your chin. "i gotta go, john."

you giggle when he lays his entire body on top of yours, trapping you there. you reach up and grip the back of his neck, whining as he flattens his tongue against your jaw and swirls it there.

"john...i gotta go."

"why?"

"mmm..." you thumb at the hair along his scalp, shaking your head. "don't do this, john."

"not doing anythin'."

"we don't sleep over, john."

"what, is tha' some kind of rule? sounds mad."

you turn over a little, looking up at him. you cup his beard in both hands, giving him a chaste kiss.

"don't ruin it, john," you say softly. "this is supposed to be fun."

he tilts his head to the side. he looks so funny without a hat. you've seen him in a beanie, a boonie hat, a cap, you love them all on him. he looks nice like this, too, though--ass naked with his dog tags dangling against his sweaty pecs.

john's eyes twitch a little at your indifference. he settles on his side, leaning over you, and just as you move to get up, he reaches and grips at your face with a big paw of a hand. you clutch at his forearm, big and solid, and your lips pucker as he pulls you closer to him.

"y'r a bad liar, love," he mutters, shaking his head. "fear doesn't suit you."

"i'm not fucking scared."

"who was it?"

you glare up at him, struggling a bit under him. it's a stupid thing to think that you could get away from him. john is not moveable. he's a big fucking tree trunk of a man, with roots that burrow, and you are truly naïve if you think he'll let you up without an answer.

"shut the fuck up, john," you spit at him, but all he does is raise a brow. he's immune to your bite. he's not phased by your sour attempt at insulting him. in fact, it's what drew him to your bed in the first place--certified brat-tamer, captain john price. "you think you're so fucking smart. think you know everything, just because you've got a few years on me, well let me tell you, john--not everything is a fucking lesson learned. you're a military muppet with a decent cock, and that's all you'll ever be to me."

"tha' right?"

"you'll never put me first. you've got one woman, and that's the job, and that's fucking fine, john, but don't make this something it's not. you're lonely, and old, and your failed relationships don't make you wiser, they make you delusional for thinking that doing this again could ever--"

your breath falters when he kisses you. he squeezes your jaw a little harder, forcing your mouth to open, and you moan, squeezing your thighs together when he licks into your mouth and holds you there for him to play with.

"i do have other obligations. my men, the job..." he brushes the hair out of your eyes, and he presses his forehead to yours when he sees the tremble of your bottom lip and the wet look in your eyes. "but i don't do casual, sweetheart. it's all or nothing f'me."

your hand grips his wrist, squeezing tight, and you blink up at him. he's so close. he's right here. blue eyes, greying beard, a sad expression. he's not afraid of dying alone, but he is afraid of wasting time.

"please don't do this to me, john." your voice cracks, and he shrugs. he's sorry, but he's not sorry enough. not enough to let you go--and you're not strong enough to tell him no. it has to be him, but it won't be.

"it's alright," john whispers, but he knows it won't be. he's known you not but a few weeks, but he's made up his mind. he doesn't understand casual. even from the moment he saw you in that bar, it wasn't fleeting, it was definitive. it would be his. you would be his.

even if you were actually someone else's. even if you were bound to someone else. even if you weren't alone, it was already decided.

john's teeth are stuck here, right here, in the hollow of your throat. his fingers are twisted between the chords of your heart and in the spaces between your ribs. if he lets go, he'll break you apart.

so he's never going to let go.

[elysianstarfall]

blue lock boys w/ a super expressive reader (hcs)

summary: your emotions are always written all over your face, and your actions are also a dead giveaway. what does your boyfriend think?

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin

a/n: god i hope this makes sense

i. yoichi

LOVES IT. SO MUCH.

he's always using so much brainpower trying to figure out what his teammates/opponents are thinking

so when he can tell how you're feeling with one look at your face, he's genuinely so happy

his brain is fried, he deserves a break

doesn't mean he doesn't care about you though!!

still has to figure some stuff out, but most of the time he notices your mood and adjusts to match it

you're really excited about something? he tries his best to get into it too

you're lowkey depressed? he softens his voice and listens to you intently

gets you whatever you need

the second he sees you're uncomfortable or something he tries his best to get you out of the situation even at his own expense

will embarrass himself to make you feel better

you always tell him he's the best bf ever but you seriously make it so easy for him to be

b. meguru

"you're just like me fr..."

yeah he's basically the same

you guys literally just sync up by accident

like if one of you is happy, the other one's mood just instantly gets better too??

bluetooth ahh relationship

also, miscommunication? what's that?

you know each other's feelings so well that misunderstandings are pretty much nonexistent

if something's wrong, it's so obvious

like if you're moping he'll make you talk things out with him or tell him what's wrong

same if he's feeling sad

thinks it's adorable when you're excited and your eyes just straight up light up

he just gets a stupid smile on his face which makes you even happier

cue the never-ending cycle of emotions

you guys are so soulmates

n. seishiro

he's so, so grateful

he doesn't have to put in any work deciphering your emotions? sign him up

consider yourself not a hassle!

it's actually perfect for a lazy guy like him

finds your facial expressions really cute

even when you're just voice calling, he can hear everything you're feeling

like when you laugh or when he can hear your smile when you're talking, he can relax

happy gf = he's doing something right

oh but when you're mad...

save him, he has no clue how to fix it

actually scared to talk to you because you look like you're gonna beat him up

and when you don't even look mad, when you act nonchalant and distant and he can't tell how you're feeling?

yeah, he's cooked and he knows it

will give you an apology with tears

he'd rather avoid that so he tries to keep you happy

m. reo

ok idk why they're all grateful but yeah. he is too.

he's been dealing with nagi's unemotional ass for forever, so he's pleased that someone actually shows their emotions and lets him know how they're feeling

finds it really helpful when he gets you stuff since he knows whether or not you actually liked it

like if your reaction is clearly fake as hell he knows not to get you something like that again

he doesn't take it personally ofc, just uses it to refine his gift-giving abilities

really likes it when you're genuinely happy because of something he gave you

you cannot stop him from blowing insane amounts of money on you

in his eyes you deserve it

just let it happen bro

also he's kind of a romantic and he loves seeing your reactions when he does something cliché or stupid

tells you horrible pick up lines out of nowhere and thinks it's so funny when you actually get flustered

i. rin

he couldn't care less.

JK he's secretly very happy

there's only room for one emotionally unavailable partner in the relationship (him)

so at least one of you can tell how the other's feeling!

thinks it's nice that he can tell when you're mad at him

because let's be real he's lowkey insecure

abandonment issues are not for the weak

so when you reassure him and your expressions and actions are backing it up?

he just fell for you even harder

but when you are mad? ouch

he's a "my gf is mad at me i hope i die" kinda bf but he keeps it very lowkey

will just sulk until he gets so sick of you ignoring him or being mean to him that he awkwardly breaks down and gives you a very sincere apology

hopes you never change because he loves you the way you are

[thedevilsoftruth]

Absolutely love the idea of Bucky getting a noise complaint from your nextdoor neighbors because of how loud things get whenever he fucks you.

At first he's like " who are you and what are you doing here " and then as they go into the complaint he's like " okay!! ☺️🌸🌸 We'll try and keep it down next time, have a nice day. "

But his response has even you confused. The next time he has you in bed, you get all innocent and shy on him. You're reluctant to get loud, and you even ask him, " didn't you say we'd try to be more quiet? "

Oh, the innocence is too much to bear for him.

Cause he's opening the fucking windows. Opening the windows and absolutely rearranging your guts. Throwing you in positions you've never been in. Making sure those dumbass neighbors hear and see every single fucking word spoken, every single smack given, and every single thrust he pounds Into you.

And maybe his dirty talk is 10x more filthier.

" yeah, you fucking like that shit? Let the fucking neighbors hear how fucking good it is. " As he's got you your knees pinned to your chest, his cock pushing in and out of you at a pace you could only describe as inhumane, forcing yet another orgasm out of your well used cunt.

Just imagine the squeaking that bed is making. The bed is a paid actor in your little show. And the show certainly is not one that your conservative christian neighbors would want to see.

Bucky is so irrationally pissed off by your stupid neighbors fucking comment. " You kids nowadays never have a sense of shame. "

Yeah fucking right. He'd been alive longer than anyone on the fucking planet. Can't a 107 year old man just have some fun?

And what is there to feel shame in when the way you cry and scream Bucky's name whenever he's inside you gives him all the validation and motivation he'd ever need?

And by the time he's almost done with you, you're a complete and utter wreck. Your poor little pussy can barley take any more of him, spasming and jolting each touch he'd give you--no matter how light it is. Each time you'd try to back away from him? He's holding you down and making sure you fucking stay there until he's done.

Untill he's done proving to your neighbors that he doesn't fucking need shame when he's with you. Until he's done proving to them that he is just simply that good at keeping his girl happy, and that they're just mad that their sex life isn't as satisfying or fulfilling as yours is.

You're laying beneath him, just taking it like the good girl he knows you can be. Your entire body is sweaty, your hair sticking to your face--your pretty, red, tear-stained face. There are red spots all over your body from places he'd smack or simply rub against too hard. To him, you look like a fucking painting. A really wet, sticky, warm painting.

And he doesn't look too good either. Maybe it's when he's outgrowing his hair, and it gets so wild when his in bed with you that he has to tie it back?

He's got his big, strong hands on your jittering hips, your face pushed into the red silky, wet sheets of your bed. He has his metal arm on your back, pushing you down as he continues to fuck you at the same brutal pace.

" mmph. fuck baby, takin' me so well. Such a good, pretty girl. All mine. "

His metal fingers go around to your face, playing with the drool running down your chin, running his thumb over your puffy, wet bottom lip. He doesn't muffle you, though. That would kind of defeat the purpose of what he's trying to accomplish.

Heh. Maybe your vibrator has already died. Heh. Just a funny thought, thinking about how long you two would be In bed for. But that's fine. He has a cybernetic arm for a reason.

And whenever you get loud on his cock again, he slowly drags it in and out before hitting that special spot inside you. Drives him fucking crazy.

" Yeah, baby. Let me hear you. Yeah, tha's right. Fu--ckin' scream. "

And he stays crazy like that until you finally cum one more time.

And when you're finally done? He's looking out the windows and swearing at your neighbors. " Yeah, I hope you saw that, you fucking perverts!!! "

And maybe he slips an extra " fuck you " before slamming the window shut.

But the rest of the night? It's just spent on him cuddling you, trying to help relieve you of any stress or anxiety you might feel afterward. He did kind of push you on the spotlight there, didn't he?

[ someone give me a fuck count for this please ]

[cherryswisherz]

NEVA END

♱ CONTAINS: toxic p smut

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: i wrote this listening to one direction

"ou boy you make me so mad, but i just come right back, it's like i can't get over you."

neva end (future ft. kelly rowland, 2012)

♱♱♱♱

this is not why i came here. i came to end this... whatever this is. i came here to return her ipad and go about my business.

and now, here i am, ipad in hand, her front pressed to my back, her hands braced on the desk in front of me.

"y/n?"

her fucking. voice. soft and deep in my ear.

i didn't say a fucking word. i didn't move an inch. i only stood there as paige's hands moved away from the desk, now tracing her fingertips down the front of my thighs.

"you can leave." she reminded me, running her hands along the hem of my leggings that i for sure no longer found necessary.

did paige give me full range to leave? yes. am i going to? fuck. no.

i nodded, my eyes still closed, "i know."

"so we both understand what's about to happen."

"i mean there's no alot to misunderstand in this situation.." i trailed off. who would i be without my smart ass mouth?"

paige only hummed in amusement but nothing was funny right now. not with her body pushed even closer against mine. not with her fucking hands slowly pushing my skirt up.

her actions were all slow and calculated as she pushed the material to pool at my waist, exposing the poor excuse for underwear i have on.

i blinked my eyes open and looked down, noticing paiges hand sliding around over my hand that held her ipad. which she slid out of my hand in a matter of seconds.

i silently gasped when sh grapped both my hands and pulled them behind my back and bent me over the fucking desk.

my body burned as the ache between my legs grew damn near impossible to handle. especially when paige drew my feet apart with one of hers.

"if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask." she said, her voice was almost unrecognizable, all rasp and something else i couldn't describe.

as she drew one of her hands up the inside of my thigh, i knew she had the upper hand, which just couldn't stand. "i don't." and we both knew it was a bold faced lie, given that she quite literally had me bent over a desk. but i still couldn't let her think she won. she wins everything. she doesn't get to win this.

"oh?" she questioned, running her hands over my damp underwear. "this is for someone else? because we're the only ones here mama."

i drew in a deep breath, feeling that ache between my legs grow as she moved her fingers back and forth over my clothed pussy.

"literally anyone else. " i forced.

paige only hummed, painfully fucking slowly, sliding my panties to the side and exposing me to her. then she bent over so her lips were a centimeter from my ear and said "tell me it's for me, and i'll treat it like it's mine."

bro.

in that moment i was supposed to be thinking a bout every tear i had shed because of her. every time she made me wear someone elses jersey because she didn't want people to think we were together. i was supposed to be thinking about literally anything other than her fingers inside of me.

in that moment where i was supposed to be fed the fuck up. where i was supposed to be done with the toxicity of our situationship, she had to say some dumbass, stupid ass, sexy ass bullshit like that.

i was supposed to win this time.

but fuck a W.

i want an orgasm.

"it's for you." i mumbled, hating the fact that i was boosting her ever-so-large ego.

paige didnt move. "i didnt her you baby." she said, obviously trying to prove a point.

its always about points with her ass.

"it's for you." i said a little louder this time.

i felt her hand cup my pussy, applying as little pressure as possible. "who?" she asked?

she must be one of them deaf hoes.

"you paige da-" i was cut of my my own gasp when her fingers began to rub my clit in circles. it was enough for me to raise my head a little bit before she gripped the back of my neck putting be back where i was.

"how do you want it mama?" she asked, slowing down the pace of her fingers.

"yknow how i want it p." i moaned softly, trying to remember that she hadn't even really started yet and i was acting like this.

all she said was "i do." and that put a little fear in my chest because paige never shuts the fuck up.

but that fear quickly dissipated as she slid a slender finger in me, forcing a louder moan to tumble out of my lips.

"why you wanna leave me?" she asked, hand still moving slowly, sliding in and out of me as she angled almost perfectly into my spot.

"because you treat me like shit." i bit out, deciding that honesty was probably the best policy in this situation. but then she slid a second finger into me, pissing me off, because i was trying to be mad at her. "god. i fucking hate you." i cried into the desk.

she only curled her fingers perfectly into me, making a tremor run through me. "say it like you mean it." she said, releasing my neck and gripping my hips all to deepen her strokes.

and deepen them she did. with each stroke, she guided my hips deeper and rougher onto her fingers.

i was gripping the desk under me as curse words and some more shit fell from my mouth, practically vibrating as she hit that spot over and over again.

"you're dripping." paige said almost matter-of-factly. fucking me even rougher as she stopped the movement of my hips all together and just held them still, forcing me to take everything she was giving me.

and i knew she was right. i could feel the wetness she always caused, allpwing her fingers to move in and out of me with ease.

"fuck" i forced out, trying to take deep breaths as i tightened around her.

"you still leaving me ma?" she asked moving the hand on my hip to my clit, rubbing circle that maxed the speed of her fingers.

her voice was so annoyingly sexy but i couldn't fight the shivers it sent down my spine.

"answer me or you don't cum." she ordered, slowing her pace slightly.

"paige-" i cried out, begging her to let me have this one thing.

she only pinch my clit, which made me jolt forward. "FUCK!" i screamed. "no. no i'm not leaving you. never p, i wont ever- fuck!" i cried as she sped up her pace faster than before and the knot in my stomach unraveled and all i could feel was bliss.

my eyes rolled shut and my jaw dropped as she moved her hand to the front of my throat, pulling me so my back was to her chest, fucking me with her fingers in way that can only be described as villanous.

paige wouldn't stop. she kept going as i trembled against her whispering in my ear.

"you thought you were boutta leave me? huh? you thought i was gonna just give you up?" she asked pulling her fingers out of me, sliding them between my parted lips.

"you taste that baby?" she slid her fingers against my tongue making me moan at the taste of myself. "you wanted to take that away from me?"

she removed her fingers from my mouth and moved them to my clit this time, rubbing fast circles.

"sh-shit! paige wai-" i fell back against the desk reaching back to push her way.

"nah you wanna leave people and shit." she practically growled, gripping my arm so i couldnt push her. "take it." and she continued until i came again, leaving me as nothing but a pile of skin and bones on this godforsaken desk.

and as i tried to come back down to planet earth, all she did was put my panties and skirt back in place and pat my ass.

"i don't even know you tried me like that."

this. bitch.

♱TAGLIST: @patscorner @theriyshow @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @1onescu @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini

[werecreature-addicted]

this is really specific but imagine being a Farmer and taking in a Minotaur who was abused and used for fighting. And like he’s bred to be a absolute f**cking tank. im talking like 8’6, scars and muscles, massive strong horns, callused hands etc. Because of the abuse and the fighting he was forced Into all his life he hates all humans, but for some reason he doesn’t want to hurt you. And as the months slowly rolls by he starts to warm up to you to the point he lets you touch him…Just for a little bit though

He is always surprised by your kindness. He's known many humans, and none have ever smiled at him like you do. Or ask him how his day has been. What surprises him most is how you always look him in the eyes when you talk to him. You never bark orders while absentmindedly checking your phone or blatantly examining his muscles while asking him to do labor. You always look him in the eye, or at least you look up. Sometimes it's hard to meet his gaze, especially if the sun is in your eyes and you can't quite make out where his head is. But that little act of respect almost always surprises him. It's almost like you see him as an equal.

You always say please and thank you. Even when he's just doing his job, work is the only reason he's here, yet you act like he's done you a huge favor when he does something as simple as refilling the watering cans. He almost never responds either, He just grunts dismissively. That never seems to bother you. No, nothing as shallow as a bad attitude would darken your sunshine.

It's funny. He's never really "liked" something about a human before. He's respected some of them. He's admired the bravery of the ones stupid enough to step in the ring with him. But he actually likes your positive attitude, and how nice you are... and your smile.

He likes the sunshine. On sunny days when there isn't much work left, you'll often find him lying in the middle of the field, enjoying the sun. He doesn't mind talking about his scars if you want to ask. Though, to be honest. He doesn't remember the details of most of them. It's all the same story anyway. A fight. A lance to the side before the fight to make him mad. A beating after he lost a fight. The individual scars all seem to blur together.

You show him a few of your scars, and you seem to remember the stories better. There's a web of scaring over the back of your hand he's noticed before but never asked about. You tell him you were stringing up a barbed wire fence, and the wire cut your knuckles. It bothers him for some reason. You're so sweet, never having been in a fight, and still you have scars. He doesn't like the idea of you being hurt. He tells you if the fence ever needs repairs he'll do it for you.

You're always careful not to touch him. He flinches if you so much as move too fast, and well... he is an animal, a reactive one at that. You're right to be cautious around him. It doesn't hurt his feelings. He respects you for the space you give him. He does have a sneaking suspicion that you want to touch him.

When he tells you about his past, you'll reach for his hand before pulling away and telling him how sorry you are to hear that. Or when he hands you something, you'll brush your fingers against his, even when you're normally so cautious to not let that happen.

Your eyes land on a piece of hay striking out of his messy hair right by his ear. You point it out but, he can't seem to find it himself. He always just barely misses it. Eventually, he crouches and bows his head low enough for you to reach the top of his head.

"Can you uhm, will you get it for me?" he asks shyly. You nod and easily pull out the hay. you pull away but he stops you.

"Wait- just check for anything else stuck in my hair, please?" he asks. you comply, running your fingers through his hair and checking for any more hay.

He still doesn't like being touched, but it's nice to know that your hands are soft and your touch is as kind and gentle as everything else about you. He wonders if touch could feel good and if you'd be willing to show him.

[abyss55199794]

Here's the playlist for where the series decides it wants to be scary.

unfinished 11 year old horror series save me.

[theroundbartable]

I love that we collectively decided that Merlin's nickname is Merls.

Like, how would that even happen? I doubt Arthur calls him that. Arthur calls him Merlin like he calls Gwen Guinevere.

So, I'm thinking like, what if Arthur overheard Gwaine say Merls (of course it's Gwaine) and hears Merlin giggle adorably at it. So he thinks 'maybe I should try that too.'

There is an awkward phase when Arthur just - can't say it. He stops saying Merlins name entirely for a couple days only, except for when he has to call him from afar and there he has to use the full name because he's too embarrassed to use something so fond in public.

So, one day, they are just in Arthur's room and Arthur hypes himself up like, NOW!: "Could you go and ask Geoffrey for that book I asked him for yesterday? Thanks, Merls."

Merlin freezes.

Arthur is sporting a slight flush but doesn't acknowledge it.

Merlin stares at him. "What did you just call me?" He doesn't giggle or flush like he did with Gwaine.

Arthur panics. "Is that not what they call you now? I thought it was a thing now." Which it was. It caught on.

Merlin glares at him. "Har har, very funny. You don't have to be so rude about it!" And then he stomps off, leaving Arthur completely irritated behind.

...

Several days later, Arthur has talked to Guinevere, to the cook, to servants and overheard Gwaine calling Merlin Merls again.

Arthur is frustrated, so he gives up. "What's wrong with you?"

Merlin doesn't look at him. "Nothings wrong."

"you're mad at me! Why? Because I called you Merls? Everyone calls you that, GWAINE gets to call you that!"

"yeah, but you're not everyone!"

"why, because I'm your boss? I know we can't really be friends but I thought -" Arthur bites his lip.

Oh.

That's what this was about, wasn't it? That he was Merlin's boss and they weren't friends and nothing could change-

"Of course we're friends, you dollophead. You're the only one who thinks we're not." Merlin suddenly softens. "You weren't making fun of me, were you? Were you attempting to get closer to me? Act more like a friend? With a nickname?"

Arthur sputters. "Don't be stupid, Merlin-"

"There. That's it." Merlin grins. "THATs what you call me, Arthur. No one says my name quite like that. So don't try to be something you're not. It's honestly unnerving."

Arthur flushes a little: "and why were you blushing when Gwaine calls you that?"

"That's because -" Arthur realizes too late that he'd just given himself away. But apart from an elevated heartbeat, he can't really regret it. Merlin's face has gone tomato red.

[h0ney-mochi]

HELLO BEEN A LONG TIME AAAA

So, may i request Wanderer being a little shit as usual and the reader getting pissed off so they overstim him and make him beg-

Wanderer x gn!reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned

SMUT/[N]SFW CONTENT (sub!Wanderer, dom!reader, overstimulation, begging)

Summary: Wanderer being an ass to you as usual, but it really starts irritating you one day and so you.. bite him back, so to speak.

A/n: welcome back Esther <3 been a long time indeed. Sorry for the wait on ur requests.. actually, sorry for disappearing in general. mmh. I know I already apologized, but... okay. I'll talk about that later. I hope you enjoy. <3

"What's the fun in doing the same thing as yesterday? Nothing better to do?"

"Psh. It's really entertaining seeing you get mad over something so little like that—"

"Another day, another reminder to me that you're stupid."

"Huh. Can't look me in the eye now? Amusing."

That's only few of the things you've been forced to listen to today. You know you can't change his personality and his words, but sometimes it really does annoy you. Infuriate you. As if he has the upper hand in everything, as if he's all knowing.

Today's just another day. Usually you could handle his attitude, but today certainly wasn't the day. While Wanderer's throwing another sassy remark at you, you're trying to calm yourself down. Not the best time to be pissed off at him! You've got better things to do!

"Ohh, can't respond now? Did my words made you go silent?" His voice rings in the background as you lift your gaze to stare at him. Your met with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Oh dear, oh dear, someone sure looks rather upset, huh?" Wanderer speaks, chuckling at the end.

You swallow. Oh he's not gonna do this shIt. He better not.

He doesn't move under your gaze, simply staring back. He taps his fingers against the table, "Are you trying to intimidate me? Because you just look funny. Did I struck something, hmm?"

Right.

It's Wanderer.

Being a little shIt as usual. Except today's not your day.

You get up and walk in the direction to your room. He's quick to follow, using some of his anemo power to quickly catch up to you.

"Hey, don't you think it's rude to leave your friend while he's talking to you?" He speaks, floating to your side. When his feet are back on the ground, you take this chance to push him against the wall. A noise of surprise escapes his mouth as you work quick, flipping him over so his chest is against the wall.

Your hand held his wrists together behind his back while you rested your head into his shoulder. You breathe in deep before exhaling. You lift your head and see that Wanderer has turned his head to the side so he could see you. His lips are also moving- oh wait, he's saying something. Right.

"Let go-! What the fuck!" He exclaims, wriggling his arms to get out of your hand, but you only push you body against him, tightening your grip as well. He breathes in hard, glaring. "Did you not hear me? Have you gone deaf? I said let GO-"

"With the way you've been treating me today, I honestly could care less about listening to you."

Your voice was way too calm. Not a hint of annoyance, even though you were pissed at him. That made the man feel weird. Rather concerned, actually. Yet he knows he'll be able to turn the tables. He always can!

"Oh, is that it, huh? I really hit a spot?" Wanderer does a half smirk, "That's funny, you really got worked up over all that?" A chuckle escapes at the end of his sentence and you feel yourself freeze up. Just how far is he pushing you right now?

You lean into his ear to speak, "You sure do love running that mouth. Maybe I should give it some other use other than that? Should do that actually, it's what you deserve after all."

He swallows, a sudden thought popping into mind. And now he's.. not that bothered by you holding him against the wall, restricting his movements. Wait, no, he should resist-

"Hm? Gone quiet now? Ran out of useless shit to say?" You go down to a whisper, blowing air on his skin. Wanderer focuses his eyes on one spot on the wall, thinking of what to say and trying to ignore how hot your breath is—

"Let's go," you suddenly lean away, moving your hand to one of his wrists. You quickly start walking, leaving no time to answer Wanderer as he tries to speak.

...

"Fuck— fuck, I'm so close-" He moans, his dick pulsing in your hands. You don't say anything, you just stare at his facial expression. Eyes screwed shut, mouth slightly agape, breathy moans escaping.

You've already noticed that he's lifting his hips up, trying to match your pace. You've also noticed him still trying to move his hands out of the rope behind his back.

Another, much louder, moan comes after a moment of silence. "Ah— Mmh, fuck, come on, come on I'm gonna— I'm—! Haah—" Wanderer interrupts his own sentence, coming all over your hands and parts of his stomach. You don't slow down, continuing to do your work, making Wanderer twitch violently.

"That— That's enough, stop- [Name], that's- haah- that's enough- fuck-!" He moans out, his hands gripping the sheets under him, trying to get away.

"Enough? Are you fucking serious right now?"

Wanderer felt something he didn't feel before. The way you said that sentence, the.. anger in your voice..? Were you mad? Usually that would make him laugh, show his tongue at you, but all it did now was make his cheeks redder and make him weirdly needy for you. Needy? You're jerking him off, what else can he ask for??

"If you think I'm going to stop just because you told me to, you're beyond stupid. You've been a bitchg to me all fucking day, you think I care? Do you really?" You put a hand on his jaw, staring right into his eyes, "It's my turn to have my fun now. I'm not letting you go."

You were surprised to feel his dick get hard in your hand again.

© h0ney-mochi 2024 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[bunny-jpeg]

HI HI omg this is my first request

Can I order a coffee with side of crostata and crème caramel served by 7x world champion Lewis Hamilton

And can the situation be they are both drivers and she pushed him of the track and won so after the race she avoids him until he catches her finally

Love the bakery btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! then check out the menu! there are tons of options and i'd love for you check it out! as for this lovely anon! thank you for the submissions! you know i love a good rivals au, i eat it up!! so i hope you love it! enjoy!

crostata (“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”) crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + coffee (rivals au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dom/sub, rivals au, driver!reader, mean!lewis, rough sex, driver's room sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, mean!lewis

you had been hiding since you pulled ahead in zandvoort, securing first place. you got past norris, you got past verstappen, and you even got past the seven time world champion, lewis hamilton.

maybe your methods were a little unconventional on the track, after all, you pushed lewis off the track as a meant to secure your spot. so currently the mercedes driver was upset with you.

so therefore you were avoiding him.

you and lewis had been rivals for close to two seasons. even if he was the seasoned veteran of the track. the top title holder with a model's face and the heart of an engine. and you were a little firecracker. you came onto the scene and drove like the devil himself was on your heels.

one the track, in the paddock or in front of the press. you were the first in a while to really give him a run for his money. while you weren't a beauty queen, the media thought you were their darling. when lewis accused it of amazing media training, you just smiled, "what's wrong hamilton, under my spell too?" and lewis wanted nothing more than for you to choke on his cock.

but, lewis was a good finder. and soon as you slinked through the empty paddock. everyone packed up for the night, you heard his voice, "is that the princess!" his voice echoed in your brain.

you swallowed and tried to start moving faster. but lewis had a wider stride and even if you tried to run. he would follow. after all, he wanted to see today's winner.

"there you are!" he said with faux sweetness in case there were any lingering workers. he grabbed you from behind and hoisted you around, "there's the winner! i was looking all over for you." you tried to make yourself dead weight so he'd let go of you, but when he whispered in your ear, your knees turned to jelly, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

"hi, lewis." you swallowed.

his hand was spread across your chest. he could feel your racing pulse. he exhaled close to your ear and said, "oh, you're very funny for thinkin' that, love."

"it was an accident."

"no, no. don't lie. where's all that bravado. you look like you're going to pass out. what about the spell you had?"

"i'm sorry for pushing you off the track."

he kissed a kiss on the back of your neck, almost tender, "words mean nothing, love. can i trust you to walk about thirty feet to my driver's room? can you be a good girl for me?"

"lewis, can't this-"

"no." he said simply, "if this was about half an hour ago i would've driven us to my nice hotel and we could've even had dinner before i wrecked you. but not now, now you get to be fucked in the driver's room." his tone left you feeling hazy.

you tried to stand your ground with him, "they didn't call it, so you have no reason to be mad. you can't just pull those cheap seduction tricks and except me to fall for them."

his hands groped your ass and he said, "no, no. it's just the princess getting her special treatment once again. she can do no wrong." he kissed your neck once more, "can't let that ego get too big. because if you stop winning and the shininess of a female driver fades. they'll drop you. but i'll always have a place for you, love. right between my legs."

your stomach twisted, you felt a throb of heat in your chest. you said softly, "driver's room, right?" there was no escaping this.

lewis let go of you, but took you by the hand as an extra safety precaution. he even swung your hand like you were lovers as you walked to his driver's room. meanwhile you were mentally screaming.

you and lewis have had sex before. it was an open secret in the paddock, so much so the press had caught onto it. but it was all a flurry of rumors. there was no evidence, only word of mouth from the poor employees that caught you in the act.

you got into the room without much trouble. despite what many thought, the driver's room was the worst place to have sex. it felt like it was almost designed for driver's not to have sex.

it wasn't spacious, something about the furniture left it almost impossible to get intimate at a good angle. and that was where lewis was going to teach you a lesson.

lewis started to get undressed and expected you to do the same. he locked the door so there was no intrusion. if someone with a camera caught you, it would be international news.

then the press would talk about the eventually wedding and kids. and even the mere thought of it made you feel disgusted. being married to lewis, you had a career to go after. women to inspire! you couldn't be tired down to a man like lewis.

but yet he had you on the carpet, your hands above your head with your ass in the air. there was something domineering about him in that moment. the charming lewis, a true face of formula one, had you spread out on the carpet, ready to devour you.

you tried to get out of your clothes with your head pressed against the carpet. you kicked off your pants and struggled to get your panties off, briefly getting tangled in them.

lewis chuckled, "stuck there, love?"

you replied, huffing against the carpet, "i'm fine, i'm fine." you got out of your clothes and yelped when lewis smacked your soft ass.

"i have to admit." he said as he leaned back on his heels with his hard cock in hand, "you are very pretty. you could sell tickets with that face, but if you showed a little more. you could sellout tracks."

you arched your back and sighed into the carpet, "is that why you show all that skin online."

he leaned on top of you, his cock almost slipping in. he said, "no, no. i do those because i know you're looking. you still follow me online, love. i know you're watching and i like showing off."

you felt your heart skip a beat and you gripped into the carpeted floor, "fuck, lewis."

he pulled away a little and then rubbed the blunt tip of his cock up against your slick entrance. he said, "i know, i know. i'll make it all better soon." then eased into your pussy, which made you make the sweetest noises for him.

such a foe on the track, but when you were under him, you were a little lamb. you wouldn't hurt a fly. or push someone off the track.

he held onto your hips as he started to move. there was little time for introductions. the need to fuck was intense, it was causing your blood to run hot. you held onto the carpet and tried to meet his pace, but he kept it in a way that threw you off.

"you look good under me." he chuckled, his mouth was near your ear, he was keeping your top half pressed with the carpet. the material of it rubbed awkwardly against your breasts, leaving them a little raw from the movements.

"lewis. please, i'm sorry." you croaked.

he replied, almost softly, "i'll forgive you when you make me finish. can't be in a good enough mood to forgive when i'm hard as fuck." his lips trailed down your neck, and it made you shiver.

you whimpered a little, the feeling flooded your brain. the rush of feelings left you feeling hazy. your heartbeat felt distant in your ears as he continued to fuck you.

it was private, but it felt so public. someone with the right key could easily find lewis hamilton taking apart his rival. you were his favourite one, in a total honestly if he'd want anyone to beat him, it would be you.

but he'd never tell you that, he'd push you to your racing and sexual limits, leaving you gasping for more. flood that little head of yours with the reminder of how he made you feel.

you came and you had to cover your mouth so you didn't make so much noise. you didn't need to have people outside the room starting to get curious about what was going on inside. the feelings hit like a brick, a swift kick to you that left you aching. your noises, while muffled, made lewis want to fuck you harder.

you panted into your palms and arched your back. your eyes rolled back a little from the intensity. when you started to come down, lewis was still thrusting up into you. your noises were more passive as he continued to move against you.

"pretty girl." he said, "all fucked out under me." he shook his head a little, "i wonder what your team would think? having you spread out under me. no matter how many podiums you take, you'll never be me." he leaned forward, making sure every last inch was inside of you. he kissed the apple of your cheek and said, "i'll show you sometime, what a world champion trophy looks like." his voice was venomous and it bit at your lust riddled head.

"lewis."

"it's only fair." he curved your back a little more, getting at just the right angle, "it'll be the closest you ever get to one."

his harsh words made sparks in your head as you came once more. this time you sounded a little more desperate as you weren't able to cover your mouth. but that was enough for lewis, two heavy thrusts and he held onto you as he came.

you dropped your hips onto the floor and some cum ended up on the carpet. you panted wildly, not able to find words. but you could feel lewis' heated gaze.

he chuckled a little and rubbed his eyes, the feeling was intense even for him. he could feel the blood rush in his body, like when he raced. he said, "this is how i like you. all fucked out and not causing me problems on the track."

you made a small noise, your tongue unable to produce words. next time, think about running one of the greatest off the tracks. <3

[delphi-shield]

ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴜᴛꜱ ↪ strap-on hcs

mdni

strap in and strap ON sorry

took a break from working on fluff pieces to slap this together. all i do on this stupid website is reveal what a huge sub i am im furious.

characters included: jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers, ada wong, helena harper, a very special secret guest (leon kennedy)

content: feat. reader receiving and giving, oral, piv, licking of fluids, light humiliation, talking you through it, established relationship assumed, reader is afab in helena & leon's parts, strap-on gratuitous referred to as dick and cock.

You don't need to convince Jill the strap is real. She already knows. She's convincing you the strap is real.

She's informing you as a courtesy that she's going to knock you up, and the way she has you all knotted up, hands pressing the backs of your thighs up, up, up, as wide as she can get you, you believe her.

She drills down into you, tits bouncing, making you go cross-eyed. You try to keep your noises locked behind your lips, sweet little whines muted. Your hand reaches for her and she swats it away before you can so much as brush a nipple. Jill grips your jaw so hard it stings, squishing your cheeks together until your noises are loud enough for the neighbors to complain.

Her hands leave you once you melt into the mattress. The rustle and chime of her removing her harness is a lullaby to you, wind chimes on a muggy summer night.

When you're finally boneless beneath her, limbs heavy, body covered in a sheen of sweat, lube, and cum, she trails the backs of her fingers along your spine. Her palm presses to the small of your back, velvet voice in your ear purring praise for you.

But when she dangles her gear in front of you, the bumper that had sat flush with her cunt still gleaming with her cum.

“Clean this up for me,” Jill instructs, hand curled around the base of your skull while you gorge yourself.

Claire, on the other hand, is secretly flustered by your attempts to convince her the strap is real.

You're jerking her off mid-make out and she's rolling her eyes because c'mon, you know I don't feel that, right?

Sure, baby. Anything you say. Her hips keep rocking to meet your fist, her nipples peaked, arching into your touch. She drags you in by your shirt until you're straddling her, dick wedged stiffly at the apex of your thighs. When you squirm, she laughs.

“Wanna ride it, huh?” Claire taunts, her hands trailing against your side. She doesn't expect you to say please. If it were real, it would have twitched.

Claire can be so mean when she teases but she falls apart when you dish it back to her. You grind against her, palming her dick to keep it right where you need it, right where it feels best, because Claire can't stop lifting her hips, can't stop bucking against you even though she insists she ‘can't feel it’.

You begged her to cum inside you just once and her hips snapped against yours, like she was trying to buck you off.

Your hands brace on her shoulders, grinning in the face of Claire's scowl.

“Just get on your hands and knees already. Jesus. I'm gonna make you ask next time.”

Rebecca can't stop slapping it around just to watch it wiggle. She bats at it like a cat, tugs it down with one finger just to watch it spring up and nearly slap her stomach.

“It's so funny,” she insists, not realizing she's dangling a piece of meat in front of a hungry lion.

As much fun as she has just fiddling with it, she's not truly sold on the strap-on experience until you gift her a harness with a little pouch for a bullet vibe.

Her technique falls to pieces, but the way she fucks you is so enthusiastic that it's hard to be mad when she ruins your orgasm with her sloppy thrusts.

She's finding her third orgasm when her stamina wears out. Rebecca collapses against your back, hips still flush with yours, dick buried in you to the hilt. Your chest falls flat and she faces in after you, pressing a groan to your skin when the vibe hums against her clit just right. Her hips thrust staccato, chasing herself over the edge again, fucking herself somehow deeper into you.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rebecca whimpers, finally pulling out of you. She wiggles out of the harness like it's in fire, the vibration suddenly too much all at once.

When she finally catches her breath, she asks, “did you..?” and she's mortified when you shake your head before she even finishes her sentence.

Her hands pry your thighs apart before you can even tell her it's okay. She demands you lay back, hands gliding under your ass to move you where she wants. Her jaw isn't tired.

Ada really doesn't bust it out that often. She has no inclination towards penetrative sex, insists she can make you feel just as good without it - but she does acknowledge that sometimes these tools serve their purposes.

It's like you can hear a chorus of angels when she opens the soft case she keeps her glittery black strap in. She rolls her eyes, tells you not to look so eager.

How can you not? She passes you her gear and lets you guide the harness up her legs, lets you kiss her cunt in preemptive thanks before you fit her cock over it - and then you kiss the head, too.

Once, you thought you saw her drool when you looked up at her, strap down your throat, eyes wet with tears. It seemed so unlike her, so messy in the place of her usual curated stoicism. You'd clung to that image for months, hung it in your mind as the real Ada shining from between all her layers, and you'd spent months gagging yourself on her cock for a glimpse of her.

She coaches you through it no matter how many times you take her. She sets her palm against your cheek, watches you lean into her touch, cock prodding against your other side.

“So pretty like this, aren't you?” Mhm, yes ma'am. You can't say that, but you try to tell her with your eyes. “You're doing so well. A little more. Think about where you want me next.”

There's always a next with Ada. She doesn't do anything in half measures and that includes you. Maybe there was a time where she would have taken her pleasure quickly, where she'd have been gone before your own could crest, but now the only time it truly feels like you have her is when she's in bed with you.

Helena leaves you wobbling around like a newborn deer every single time. Her arm curls around your waist the morning after, tugs you back to bed in apology when she sees you stumbling.

“M'sorry baby.” She presses her nose just behind your ear, inhales deeply, fits her body against your back. “I'll be more gentle next time.”

So that was a fucking lie.

Helena's got a thing about windows, likes to fuck you up against them, her feet planted wide, grinding her strap into you hard and deep.

Her promise to be more gentle is long forgotten. She keeps you crowded against the glass, your shirt yanked down so your tits press flat on the window. Large or small, tits or pecs, she wants them out and on display for anyone who galena to look up and see how good you're getting it.

Helenas's other hand stays pressed to your navel, like she's trying to feel herself moving in you, “all the way in your stomach, huh? You feel me?”

On rare nights when she wants it, she wants it hard. She wants her brains scrambled she tells you, tightening the harness at your hips. She presses a kiss where the fat of your hip bubbles up, runs her fingers reverently along the dips and divot of your skin.

It's the most softness you'll get until she's satisfied. If you can't or won't pound her into the mattress (or carpet, or countertop, or backseat, or…) then she has no problem forcing you to sit still while she fucks herself on your cock.

Leon is so fucking angry when you slap your strap against his cheek. He's scowling up at you, all puffed up and defensive. Maybe now that he knows how it feels he'll stop doing it to you. (You hope not.)

“I think you've done this before,” you muse when he finally takes you into his mouth. You waited ‘til he couldn't respond, of course, just to see him glare at you. It's hard to pout when your mouth is full of cock, but Leon manages it. (See? He's a pro.)

This was his idea. You don't know what he's being so pissy about it for. You'd have thought it was Christmas the way his eyes lit up when he found your strap-on, shoved to the very bottom of a box. It had been an interesting moving day. Leon had found it in him to wait until his friends were gone to tell you about his discovery. The teasing, you'd expected. The interest, not as much.

“You gonna be pouty if I'm bigger than you?” You teased, expecting a laugh, not a fucking moan.

The pattern develops quickly. You brush his hair gently from his face. He pulls off your cock. Your hand fists in his hair, urging him back. He moans, fits even more of you into his mouth, nearly gags himself and recovers like a champ.

Leon pulls off you, lips swollen and spittle trailing. You need to ask him if he's okay with pictures, you realize, stomach squirming and heat pooling. Your thumb smooths over his cheekbone and the gentleness has him rocking into his knees, reaching past you for a bottle of lube. He tosses it to you and you nearly drop it, too busy watching him lay back, cock flushed and leaking against his skin.

When you finally remember how to breathe, you wobble in between his legs. You line your cock up with his. It takes both your hands to wrap completely around the two of you. Leon's eyes flutter shut.

“I'm bigger,” you whisper, unable to help yourself. Leon glares at you, jaw clenching. You'd think he was mad if his dick hadn't just jumped in your hand.

[mocchii-writes]

do you write for dae ho (squid game)? if so can you do one of him getting jealous but instead of being angry he just does dumb stuff to get the readers attention on him (like a little kid trying to show his mum a cool trick)

Paring: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Warnings: none! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A/n: This is so Daisuke coded- anyways, I hope hcs work, this has been sitting in my req, and I didn't want to make u wait anymore ♡♡

~🍡🍡

Dae-ho seems like the type to get jealous for sure

Whether it's a friend you're talking to, or literally some stranger

But I don't think he'd get excessive with it, nor mad at you obviously

He tends to just feel small and insecure

So, he'd do things to grab your attention

'cuz he lovessss your attention!!

He would start with simple things, maybe surprising you with a task he did for you, or he'd bring you a treat, like candy or maybe chips you like

But usually, you don't get the memo :<

So, he resorts to doing things

Pretty stupid things, if I might say

You could be out at a park, talking to someone else and you suddenly hear your name

You look over n he's just like

"Watch me do this backflip!!"

"What? Dae-ho get down from there! You can't even do a backflip???"

He'll end up getting injured regardless

But when you help patch him up, he doesn't regret a thing

"Why did you do that? That was stupid, and you know it."

"I dunno..."

"Dae-ho."

Then he would totally spill and ramble about how you weren't talking to him, and he thought you didn't like him, and he thought he would look cool, and you're like oh...

Just please please give him attention and reassurance because he needs it

my poor baby :'<

He probably wouldn't stop doing it, though

I mean, it worked the first time, didn't it

And you both know it'll keep working, no matter how much you complain to him as you wipe the scrapes on his elbow

He would also say stupid things, tryna impress the guy talking to you

"Yeah, I'm a marine. No big deal or whatever."

"Uh okay"

"And I've wrested 3 bears with no weapons. And won." >:)

"..?"

Sometimes, when you do pick up on it, it's pretty funny to mess with Dae-ho

Just like, agree with him

"Mhmm I was there."

"Uh YEAH. She was there!"

"Why was she there...?"

"I was the bear."

The look he gives you is astronomically funny

The guy walks away, and he's upset like why would you embarrass him like that

You're like "bro."

But you're sure to give him extra cuddles as an apology

He's just a little puppy :<

[pricetagged]

The usual from me, I'm afraid. I'm back at my nonsense, typing up wife-hunter John while I take a break from tidying my apartment (: Here's part iii! (there will be more reader/john in part iv )

Masterlist l Previous

Content: More stalking, manipulation, voyeurism & marital sabotage. John's a bad man and I want him viscerally <3

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

It tears at him, rends flesh from bone with sharp little teeth. Corrugated. Rusty. It poisons his bloodstream, boils blood to madness and burns to feverish pitch.

It's a trap of his own design, and he just had to poke at it. He set it up, jaw wrenched wide and trigger taut and, god, he had to touch it. Had to feel the bruising pleasure bloom then give to something sharper. Sweeter.

In his more reflective moments he wonders if setting up the cameras was a good idea. He's a possessive old bastard and he's torn; not because of any hand-wringing morals, no. No, but rather that he's left himself licking along the knife's edge, close enough for it to cut if he presses hard. He can touch it. It's in his grasp, but he's not fully confident that he's the only one wielding it.

There are too many variables still.

And it's left him here, testing the pressure of the razor-sharp rim and wanting to dig deeper. (He fisted at himself harder than usual that night, flesh aching and engorged and throbbing as the cold metal of your wedding ring bit at the veins and ridges of his length).

The screen is his most hated ally. Pixels and light; the blue sheen. The static blur that raises the hair on his arms as he caresses your image. It's the sweetest torture, watching you boxed in by the four corners of a machine. Gazing on only the impression of you, shadowy and reflective, pacing the monitor. It's peiskos, but wrong. He has you in his home, but can only see and touch you in artificial impotence. It drives him wild, makes his throat ache and his head hot watching you, but not knowing how you taste.

That's not him, he thinks, having something that he can't fully possess. Even the bottle of 1926 Macallan locked in his cellaret has been cracked open, rolled around the palate and savoured before returned to the shelf. Locked safe behind glass, yes, but within reach.

He has to see you again. The trap is tightening, and isn't it funny that it's caught him too?

(His hand moved faster, pleasure simmering as he watched your wide eyes turn glossy and your voice grow thick. 'I don't know where it went! It must have fallen off in the garden, I swear!' Even being unable to taste it, to lick at your tears and feel you tremble-

-it had him tensing his thighs, body clenching in anger and heat as he listened to your apologies. As he listened to your pathetic, half-hearted moans. The way you gave in so sweetly, so eager to please and make good. Your husband's disgusting, breathy grunting. Weak. Unsatisfying-

-But it had his palm tightening around the tacky, swollen flesh at his tip. Slit leaking as the rage boiled his blood and sent it south in a paroxysm of rapture).

He sees Buck before he sees you. It's a necessary evil. No, that's not quite right. It's inevitable; it's reasonable. He needs to lay the bait, shuffle the leaves over it and let nature take its course.

It's a classic pub. A real boozer, where the floor is always slickly sticky and the walls are a cheery, tobacco-stained yellow. The kind of place that serves only pork scratchings and pints.

Your husband didn't expect to see him there. Fox in the henhouse, only he's too stupid to realise that he's the bird.

"System is running well, mate! Thanks. This round's on me," he claps at John's shoulder and does admirably well at hiding his nerves.

It has him smiling into the pint glass, schadenfreude as your husband subtly stretches his aching palm and paints on a wary smile.

(Foot hovering just above the spring; steel teeth ready to -)

"You here alone?" John sips at his drink, eyes scanning the dingy room until - yes, there in the corner he sees a familiar Union Jack cap. Good lad.

"No, no. My mates have just left. Like to linger, you know, for the company," he sends a wink to some pretty thing nursing a G&T by the window.

"Not enough company at home?" he tries to make it light, hoping that the gravel in his tone could be mistaken for interest. And it is, really, if prey drive could count as mere 'interest'.

Buck scoffs, rolling his eyes in a way that looks a lot like rolling belly-up. 'Tell me I'm a real man, look at me! I've got the pick of the flock'. "You know how it is. Gets boring, fishing in the same hole all the time, eh?"

"I wouldn't know," he hums, eyebrows drawn low in faux-consideration. Meets him dead in the eye, lets the mask drop for a just a second. Let's the words come out flat and dangerous. "I've never had a problem reeling in what I want."

The words linger, settling heavy and awkward in a way that has him licking his teeth. Tension so thick he can chew it, feel the fat and gristle rend under the strength of his jaw. It's heady watching the way your husband flounders, not sure how to react until the pack leader backs up and loosens the canines at his nape. Lets him breathe. It's a joke, really. Go on. Laugh. And he follows suit so easily. It's almost boring, he thinks, with eyes cold and muscles frozen under his fake smile as he watches the man chuckle.

"You've gotta stay, Price, that's a good one. One more drink, c'mon." Funny. He thinks that it's his right to give orders. He thinks that John's staying at his command.

John taps twice at the foamy rim of the glass. Catches his sergeant's eye from across the room. "Sure, why not."

It's time.

It's masterful, really, how well Gaz slips over. Greets Buck like an old friend. Drops hints and in-jokes that have the man chuckling along as his eyes flit about with confusion.

"Can't believe I've run into you, here. I thought I'd seen the last of you when you moved house, what, a year ago?" Kyle slides into the barstool on the left. Boxes him in, piggy in the middle. "Still with that finance company?"

"Yeah, yeah it's been a while," he trails off. Too proud to admit that he doesn't know Gaz. Has never met the man. John can feel the way his eyes keep flicking towards the side of his face. Needy. Histrionic.

"You lads catch up, have fun. I'm away for the night," he sets the empty glass at the bar with a soft thud. Makes a show of introducing himself to Gaz and waving the two of them off.

In the cool air of the smoking area he has a moment of fika. Cars roll by on a distant road. The muffled sound of laughter and murmuring filters through frosted pub windows. The rich, heavy smoke of his cigar swirls around and around until he's closing his eyes in the haze. It's slow, calming, and he takes a moment just to appreciate the hand that he's about to play.

He thumbs over the smudged screen of your husband's phone. Only 2 missed calls and 1 text.

>>Sorry to go on at you, but you said you were finishing work at 5 today. It's nearly 8 now. Can you at least let me know where you are? We were going to start that series tonight and I've been getting worried waiting for you :/

Poor, sweet thing. Polite, too. All love and care wasted on the pathetic, juvenile lump slumped over the bar right now. 

(It whets his appetite, seeing how well-trained you are. How you toe the line, defer to the farcical rules set out for you in your relationship. 'Stay at home. Don't blow up my phone.'

Would you come to heel for him? If a weak, useless hand could shape you so well, what could a strong one do?)

<< Sorry, baby. I goty caugtht up at the pub w some friends. HAd a few drInks. Cmome and get me? [LOCATION SHARED]

He flicks the stub of the cigar away as he pockets the phone.

Curtains up; show about to begin.

He settles into his seat, a well-worn booth. Threadbare, stained upholstery and faded coasters. It's shadowy here, tucked away in the corner but offering a perfect line of sight to the door. And right by that very door is Gaz, your husband, and the pretty thing from earlier.

The bell jingles; wind whistles in.

Gaz lets his grip slip, lets your husband slump in the seat until his head is resting against the neck of the woman he was chatting up. Fingers inching up her thighs as she laughs and flirts back.

"What..?" it's too noisy in here to hear you, but he's listened to your voice over and over. He knows just how your pitch is rising. The slight crack on the final consonant.

You stand, face screwed up as you try to make sense of the situation. But two plus two can only ever equal four, and your husband's hands up a skirt can only ever equal- 

"Hi, gorgeous. Here to meet someone?" his sergeant grins up at you. Plays the charmer so well. "Got an empty seat with us, if you fancy it."

There's a little bitterness cutting at the furl of your lips. You're holding it in so well but, god, the words must burn, coming out like bile. "What, sure that I'm not interrupting something?"

"No, no. He said he's just having a little fun. Said he wants something warm before he goes home to his bitch wife," Gaz chuckles, leaning towards you like he wants to whisper a secret. "Bit sick of hearing his complaining, if I'm honest. Makes her sound like a right harpy. But you could take my mind off it."

"Not sure about that," he sees the way your chest hitches. Sees the sob that you swallow down as you steel your expression. "I am the 'bitch wife'."

And it's magnificent. Kyle's played his part so well; stuck to the script like he's performing at The Globe. An ad-lib here, an improvisation there. He hands you a napkin, rubs at your shoulder as he looms over the treacherous tableau he fashioned for an audience of two. You, and John. Ache and Hunger; betrayal and mastery. He maneuvers you, keeps you from causing a bigger scene as he hauls your husband by the scruff of his jacket. Choreographs the steps so that John can see every last microcosm on the universe of your face.

It's his set, his design. He's the architect, director, and audience all in one.

(And that foolish, stupid player of yours tugged at the lure. Found himself swinging, tied up in the string).

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Ik reader wasn't really present here, but had to get the ball rolling (: Also I've been stressed and not sleeping so forgive me for this being a bit...

And yes. John stood there and put all the typos in that message on purpose. Unhinged.