#I'm an Old™ now i guess

[brennacedria]

They don't let kids stay home alone anymore, do they? That's like the weirdest thought to me, cause in the 90s we were basically fighting our parents to let us stay home, assuming we weren't latchkey coming home to an empty house anyway.

[orphiclovers]

Hmm, now that I've actually read a different translation of Yoo Mia side story I feel way better about my own. In some places they matched almost perfectly, in some places the other person made a mistake, in some places I made a mistake they didn't, in some places the original was unclear and we both made the same editorial choices and in some places we made different ones, where I still have no idea who is right... at least now I know what's what, and that my back alley Yoo Mia side story version was actually real (I had been quietly worried it was fanfiction someone tricked me into thinking was official. But no. Now I've gotten multiple seperate sources confirming it's the real deal.)

I was afraid of accidentally inserting my own bias into the Yoo Mia side story with my fumbling attempts at editing, so I left a lot of unclear parts as they are, even if it looked bad. But, now I had the golden opportunity to double check those parts that I was unsure about, which I'm super grateful for, obviously! I see the other translator struggled in some of the same places I did.

Like, at the very beginning when Yoo Joonghyuk gets into Kang Woohyun's car and they talk. The other translators version is like this.

And here is what google translate gave me when I was making my version the first time.

I thought it was an obvious translation error because wtf why does he say the words twice? So this is how I edited it.

But now I'm thinking maybe it was in the original too, only meant to show Kang Woohyun was repeating the words while emphasizing the sylables. So if I was editing it now, I would do it something like this.

"I still eat well."

"Just lettuce and chicken breast, right? What diet is that? You have to eat rice. Rice! And beef too."

...That's as natural sounding as I could make it, anyway.

I won't do a total side-by-side comparison of every scene, since Yoo Mia side story is more than 12k words long and I'm not that crazy. There's a lot more little things like this. I'll just point out the most important one. (I know I'm the only person who cares this much but let me nerd out for a minute okay?)

I MISSED A PAGE! My back-alley version of the original just...didn't have it, even if everything before and after was the same. Here it is.

This is a totally new part that I've never seen before, but it's so real!!!

I FUCKING KNEW YOO MIA HAD A SPEECH IMPEDIMENT!!! I was actually writing a meta/theory post on it just now, it's in my drafts and everything (might still publish it if anyone's interested) since it was implied in the main story too but I don't know if a lot of people noticed. But because for some reason my Yoo Mia side story was missing the one single paragraph it was confirmed in, it was just a theory of mine. Now confirmed. Holy shit. I feel like fucking Matpat.

I don't know if anyone would be interested in me re-editing Yoo Mia side story with the missing page + fixing the errors I made the first time? I'll make a poll.

(Psssssst. If a real translator who actually knows Korean wants to give me their Yoo Mia side story version I would be eternally grateful and like. give u a free art commission or something 👀😊)

[kingghoost]

Quickly analyzing a one-off line from The Optiratch Argument™ because I'm bored

We all know that The Argument™ was mainly about Ratchet's frustrations with Optimus' "cowardice" (BIG quotation marks) but one of Ratchet's lines really stuck with me:

"Oh- and let me guess, I'm just the medic." (TFP S1E22)

Typically when people are angry, they don't vent about just one thing. Though he was talking back to what Optimus said about the Vehicon being a miner and not a warrior, that comment seemed completely irrelevant to the argument's main topic (at least in my point of view)

One big (yet hidden) flaw in Ratchet is his lack of self confidence. His job is to cure the sick and injured, yet he never really seems to realize the value he has on his team. He truly is great at what he does - and he goes above and beyond to be of service (medic, scientist, sort of engineer... that's impressive!) Despite all this, the fact that he is the only non-fighter really seems to eat at him. His main whereabouts most of the time being in the base makes it worse paired with the fact that he seems to be the most eager to jump and "get things done." Their numbers are already small, so he feels that anything he could do isn't enough to overthrow an entire military.

By saying "Just the medic," it implies that he determines his self worth by his rank. In his eyes, he is "just" the medic. Not a great warrior that overpowers the enemy and saves his comrades, but a doctor forced to sit by and wait for his teammates to return with fresh new injuries, dead or alive.

"-Help us, we know. But you nearly caused the loss of something.. Irreplaceable. Our medic, and our most trusted friend." (TFP S1E22)

Now Optimus, on the other hand, does acknowledge what Ratchet has to give to the team, most importantly Ratchet's worth as an individual. He knows what lengths Ratchet goes to save his comrades (and, most of the time, himself) from the brink of death, he knows what a genius his old friend is for being able to conduct such intricate research with limited supplies - Hell, he knows that Ratchet built some of those supplies himself.

Learning about how Ratchet thinks so lowly of himself must've been shocking, to witness the one closest to you feel the need to experiment on himself with untested material in the hopes of being "useful" ... I think it broke Optimus' heart a little, not to mention how he was already hurt by Ratchet's rant.

Though the episode ended with things working out in the end, I really like the idea of The Argument™ making a huge mess out of both of them. At that moment they were fine and made up, but what they said/learned about each other that day will never quite leave them.

[glassedplanets]

sketches from fic i've written!

idk if i'm a particularly visual writer or not... i guess it's a maybe? i try to visualize the scene or setting particularly if it's complex just to make sure it Makes Sense and then that sometimes leads to me having a very specific sort of Scene™ in mind. it's so weirdly difficult to draw things based on what i've written bc sometimes the Writing Scene just doesn't go the way i would draw it, and/or i feel like my skill level isn't quite there yet........ but that's the challenge!!! and the more i do this, the better i get. or maybe i just get braver. i guess it's the same thing to a degree 🤷‍♂️

in any case:

1. the blood of the covenant (ye olde wano aftermath)

2. in stitches (law's terrible horrible no good very bad series of realizations)

3. swordbearer (hiyori wants to fuck around but ends up finding out) (this statement entirely misrepresents the tone of the fic)

4. bodyswap AU (what it says on the tin, Now With 25% More Smut)

[quarks-pussy]

(context)

apparently i cant read half of the og run anywhere. well. at least i got the doctors insanely long fishing pole

[itsanidiom]

OFFICE BLS RANKED BY THEIR ABILITY TO MAINTAIN THE VENEER OF APPROPRIATE WORKPLACE BEHAVIOUR

Because I saw @sorry-bonebag's tag and had to.

Here we go! Disclaimer: I'm not going to list every Office BL™ these are just the ones I've seen. Sorry if your fav is missing! Let's start with our lowest scorer that definitely sets the tone for the bottom of the barrel.

CHECK OUT - The veneer is tracing paper if not completely transparent. Fucking in the office. Yeah. That's an HR violation for sure. Thankfully your company is too small to have an HR department. But you're definitely getting fired by your boss who is also your boyfriend who you are also cheating on.

BED FRIEND - The veneer is only considered opaque because everyone else in the office is blind as hell. HR is pretty sure you two fucked in the office bathroom, but they have no proof so could only give you a warning.

LOVE MATE - Veneer is 1-ply. I mean, if the whole office ships it, is it truely an issue? HR thanks you for keeping things PG.

WE BEST LOVE: FIGHTING MR. 2ND - The veneer is definitely paper thin, but it's 2-ply. At least you avoided fucking in the office. Just a good smack in the face and some mutual sexual harassment. HR win...I guess.

HISTORY4: CLOSE TO YOU - Veneer is getting a little thicker, but depends on the light. Rooftop and in-office grandiose love confessions aside, HR thanks you for keeping your higher heat make out sessions off business hours. Still, gossiping about your romantic interests with your coworkers is grounds for a warning.

OUR DATING SIM - Veneer is about as thick as the space between your legs through which HR can see that you're literally holding hands in the office right now, stop it.

STEP BY STEP - The veneer is solid. Mainly office stuff happens in the office. HR approves of this boring as hell vibe. Still, you get marked down slightly because you did almost get down in the company parking garage.

CHERRY MAGIC - The veneer is a wholesome thickness, but no kissing in the company elevator. HR slap on the wrist for sure. We don't care how quickly the doors closed. There is CCTV in that elevator, sirs.

JUN & JUN - The veneer is currently in the process of being painted on so we'll have to wait and see, but it's looking pretty thin so far. HR has their pens ready to write up the report.

OLD FASHION CUPCAKE - The veneer is solid, but HR saw you hugging in the coffee station. Thank you for waiting until you were off work hours to make out, I guess. Enjoy your fancy desserts.

ROOMATES OF POONGDUCK 304 - The veneer is there. HR heard some weird noises over the zoom call, but we're just going to ignore those for now.

[hannahhook7744]

Why Franklin and Maryann Portman are the Worst™ (Part 1)!;

I want to preface this by saying that I know that by no means Franklin and Maryann Portman are the actual worst parents in fiction or in this series even. 

Of course they aren't. 

But that doesn't mean that I can't still refer to them as the worst™ for them being shitty. Even if I do believe that on some leave that they do care about/love their son. 

I also wanna point out that it's been awhile since I read the books so I'm going off my memory and the wiki for this. So I may forget some context of why this or that happens, and if I do that, feel free to comment it down below respectfully. And if I forget something that you find shitty that they did, also feel free to reblog or comment it down below because I would love to talk about these characters and fandom more.

Am I saying that Abe Portman is 100% perfect and did nothing wrong whatsoever? No, that would go against how his character is betrayed in the books—as a flawed traumatized man who did his best to be there for his family and keep them and himself (as well as others) safe and went about some things the wrong way. 

 Now that that's out of the way…

According to the wiki:

“Jacob was born on Halloween, and up until he was eight years old was convinced by his parents that trick-or-treating candy was birthday presents (something apparently revealed in Hollow City).” 

These people are rich. 

R-I-C-H. 

Rich enough that Jacob’s dad can study birds and volunteer and write mine books that he never publishes without the worry of them not having anything to eat. 

R-I-C-H enough that Jacob comments that “I did love her, of course, but mostly because loving your mom is mandatory, not because she was someone I think I'd like very much if I met her walking down the street. Which she wouldn't be, anyway; walking is for poor people.” And rich enough that they gave their kid their four year old sundan so that they could get a brand new car. 

And for eight years, they had their son believing that candy was a birthday present. 

1. Now, look. I get it. Birthday shopping is hard, especially for a little itty bitty kid but not actually having the money to buy your only kid gifts and choosing not to because people are handing out candy on that day anyway? That's not a very nice thing to do for that long. 

They let him go through three years of school thinking that and we never learned how he found out that was a lie. That's not even including the fact that the rest of their extended family let this lie continue (assuming they knew). 

Can you imagine if Jacob found out because he mentioned this to his classmates or a teacher? Maybe a teacher or family member could salvage the situation but little kids can be brutal, especially towards other little kids who they think are wrong and considering we know that in that same year, Jacob was pants-ed causing him to stop believing anything Abe said…. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility tl believe that one of Jacob's classmates got in a fight with him over it and caused some kind of embarrassing, painful memory. 

Though I guess it's a good thing they didn't get Jacob birthday presents that early on considering my second point. 

2. The birthday scene. 

Look at his birthday scene. 

This scene? Shouldn't really exist. 

Not because I hate birthday scenes but because Jacob literally told his parents he didn't want a party which under normal circumstances is a reasonable ask within itself. But these? These aren't even normal circumstances. 

Jacob doesn't want a party because the one person he'd actually want there, in his own words, is his grandpa. His grandpa who died in his arms nine months before and who Jacob has been viciously mourning for said nine months. His grandpa whose death caused Jacob's ‘mental breakdown’. 

Whose house they had also cleaned out recently, doing shit all for the now sixteen year old’s mental health and grief. 

But what do his parents do? 

Throw him a surprise party.

A surprise party.

For their jumpy traumatized son who found his grandpa bleeding out in the dark after getting attacked by a monster (or ‘rabid dogs’) and who has been sleeping in the fucking laundry room. 

Why on earth would going against his wishes be good for him? He said he didn't want a party and under these circumstances, it's even more understandable. If you really want your son to socialize or to celebrate, then get him a cake or some food he likes and invite his friend over. Talk to him. 

Don't throw him a party he doesn't want and don't throw the kid who's been having non-stop nightmares about the monsters who killed his grandfather a fucking surprise party. 

To make matters, in this party:

One of his uncles he’s not close to tries to spring a summer trip to his house on him, listing shit that he likely knows Jacob doesn't like with no previous warning to the kid himself (his parents were just planning to ship him off, whether he wanted it or not). 

They're calling Jacob's apparent disorder ‘his thing’. 

And nobody is actually getting him anything he wants. Just shit they've been gifted and are trying to get rid of. 

Gifts like CD's of country Christmas music or subscriptions to Field and Stream (because his Uncle Les thinks he's outdoorsy, this one I can understand slightly since Jacob did want to be an adventurer but still). 

The only exceptions being:

 1. The key to the family four-year-old sedan, which Jacob is embarrassed to be receiving in front of Ricky (who Jacob hasn't talked to in a long while after a fight they had). 

And 

2. A camera Jacob had been wanting for ages (since last summer) from his parents….who likely only gifted it to him because of his dad's new book.

Which leads to his mom drunkeningly making front of her husband at her sixteen year old’s birthday party…. Real classy. 

Oh and 3. A book that belonged to Abe that Jacob's parental Aunt Susie snagged trom the house when they were cleaning it out. A book titled “The Selected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson”. 

She gave this to him, saying it was from Abe because he'd written Jacob's name in it. 

Thoughtful right? 

Well everyone else doesn't think so because they go quiet. Jacob's mom, Maryann even while drunk, tries to say it was thoughtful and that she didn't know Abe was a reader.

Meanwhile Jacob's dad, Franklin, is barely hiding how pissed he is. 

Like dude. 

Dude. 

Do you really hate your own dad so much that you don't want your grieving son to have even just a book of poems that the only member of the family who he was close to left for him? Are you still, even after that disastrous day where you cleaned out the fucking house with him there and fought with him, refusing to let him have any ties left?

To be fair, you can say that this is because of his own history with Abe and that it's because Jacob is in a worrying state. But that doesn't really hold up considering that they let Abe babysit Jacob often and fill his head up with stories they thought he embellished  due to his own trauma and because they thought that Jacob was well enough to handle trashing and donating all of his dead grandpa’s stuff. 

Sure, they don't take the book from him but the fact Franklin can't even hide how pissed he is is shitty. 

That's not even considering this little tidbit here:

“My mother leaned toward me and in a tense whisper asked if I needed a drink of water, which was mom-speak for keep it together, people are staring.”

….

Do I even need to say anything?

The fact that Jacob thinks this probably means that his parents—or even just Maryann—have said this to him before. Frequently so, even. To the point where he's trying to escape the room, feeling like he might cry, and instead of thinking that his parents (or anyone in this family) might be able to potentially comfort him in this hard moment, this is what he's thinking. 

It's infuriating.

But not as infuriating as my last point for now!

3. Franklin sent his then fifteen year old son to deal with what he thought was his dementia ridden, war world 2 veteran father having a PTSD attack/episode. 

Franklin gets called when he's volunteering at a bird rescue in what is either early afternoon or night by his worried fifteen year old said who tells him that Abe called him ‘flipping out’. 

He asks if he's taken his pills today and Jacob tells him Abe wouldn't tell him. 

At this point, any reasonable adult would go and help their poor ailing father who may be having an episode or PTSD attack about the war, what happened to his family. The monsters. 

At this point, any reasonable adult would send their son home out of danger and call up a friend or sibling or in-law to go deal with the situation. 

What does Franklin do?

He sends his fifteen year old, who is at his job, to go check on Abe. Who again, Franklin thinks is having an episode. 

Now, even if there was a chance that Abe would still recognize Jacob and wouldn't be a danger to him, who would risk sending their son to check on an ailing relative by himself when there's every chance that when Jacob gets there he'll be having flashbacks to the horrors he witnessed. I mean, it's understandable if you or another adult is there and need help calming the man for you to maybe have your teenage son there. Especially if he may be caring for him one day out of choice.

But sending your fifteen year old there by himself to handle the situation when he probably won't know what to do and when he probably hasn't seen one before?

And doing that when you know that your dad was in a war and still has a sea of weapons hidden away behind lock and key (a key which you have) because you can't be half assed to tell the shelter your volunteering at that there's a family emergency?

Franklin literally sent Jacob into a traumatizing situation that could turn dangerous (for Abe or Jacob, if Abe didn't recognize his grandson) under the assumption that all of his paranoid dad's weapons are stored away. 

And what did Abe die with in his hand?

A box cutter. 

Which just proves that Abe had things lying around that he could use as a weapon if needed. Things he could improvise with. 

Just think for a moment about what could have wrong if Abe wasn't actually in danger from a wight but something he was actually imagining—a memory from his past. Imagine what could have happened to Jacob if Abe had mistaken him for a burglar or a wight or what Franklin thought he was imagining.

Jacob can't fight. 

It's dark. 

Things could easily go wrong.

And what would happen if they did?

Jacob would be hurt and traumatized or dead and Abe would likely be in a horrible place if he wasn't, all because Franklin didn't care enough about his dad to go check on him himself. Hell you can he didn't even care about Jacob enough here, because he didn't care about what Jacob could possibly see if he sent him to deal with his grandfather.

Like, not only is he being incredibly shitty to his son but to his own ailing father who was at the very least convinced he was in danger and who was actually in danger (for all Franklin knew his dad could have actually heard someone breaking in but he didn't even take the time to think about it). 

That's all I have time to write for today but there's several other things that they do that are pretty crappy where their son is involved that I will happily discuss.

Hope this doesn't disappoint, @kallmeweirdhprroe .

[junespriince]

Wally: I sit here today because my uncle retired and you guys just dragged me in here, I didn't have a choice. I was working my own city, the Titans, and sometimes helped other heroes and now I have to work here and come to almost daily meetings? How can I get fired? Can marrying your son in Vegas make you let me leave? I want out of this.

Bruce: the dimension overlord said you must be here, we need a speedster or balance will be distributed.

Wally: how about you disturb deez nuts old man. I don't give two donkeys pucks about this "balance" when I'm forced to look at my two biggest enemies all day.

Oliver: I know Barry raised you, but could you have manners kid?

Wally: can you stop getting pegged by my therapist?

Oliver, blushing as if the league doesn't already know this:

Wally: no? Okay, then shut up.

Bruce: this is a bit excessive, West.

Wally: says the guy who fights his ex father in law/enemy shirtless. I don't know about you, but if my son grandfather challenged me to a duel the shirt stays on.

Bruce: how?

Wally: what does "dating your son" mean to you? Self proclaimed greatest detective over here lady and gents, give him some applause for being stupid. Though, with all the smart women you attracted I guess it has it charms to a certain group.

Clark: a lot of sass today, huh?

Wally: and rightly so Mr. Kent—

Clark: kid, you've known me for years and marrying my kid, it's uncle Clark now.

Wally: sir, I was raised my a Midwestern woman, it's sir, ma'am, and whatnot, deal with it. Anyways, it's rightly deserved, I'm losing a lot of precious time spending it here because Gotham's playboy bicycle decided now he'll have a standard and not fix this problem by helping the dimensions asshat get laid. Do you understand how much this cut into my personal life outside of heroing, Bruce?

Bruce: well—

Wally: shut up sir, you don't because unlike you I don't have a son I was blackmailed into adopting that can run the business, no, I'm an average man here working a real job, and trying to make time for my boyfriend. We get it, you're an emo furry with a tragic backstory that makes it hard to emote, well bucko guess what, I had shitty parents, uncle Hal thinks I have no friends, and what else... OH yeah! I was stuck in the speed force trying to get out and everyone I loved stop trying to save me and assumed I was dead. So, fire me!

Bruce, and his ego™: no. Balance needs to be kept.

Wally: I will make you regret this choice.

Both of them glaring at each other:

Diana: well, at least meetings will be interesting.

Hal: in my defense you didn't have friends over when I visited so how was i supposed to know...

Oliver: didn't Barry told you one time to come because Wally was at my house having a sleepover with Roy?

Hal: ... Okay I'mma be so real right now, I heard come over and the rest was white noise.

Wally: ew. I'm right here.

Hal: kid, hush, the adults are talking.

Wally: ... I'm 29, dude bye. I'm done with this. *Gets up and leaves*

Arthur: he has grown up so much.

Bruce, who knows Wally at his worst teen years: yeah, he's gotten worse.

Oliver: so about this fighting shirtless with your ex father in law.

Bruce: so about you getting pegged by our therapist.

Oliver:

Bruce:

Oliver: I hate you.

Bruce: yeah, yeah, love you too idiot.

[wordssricochet]

💬 — Hello !! Just the usual reminders, I am still learning. Please do not expect my work to be perfect, English is not my first language. That is all, thank you.

⚠ — rejection, bullying, draco being stupid, hurtful words, mischaracterization of Blaise Zabini (I guess, we had to do it for the plot)

📝 — ♡ (fluff) + ☣︎ (angst)

#⃣ — 1270 words

📹 — based on the movie "Flipped" (one of my comfort movies)

_________________________________________________

Flipped | D. M |

by wordssricochet™

_________________________________________________

Growing up as a troublemaker kid, you were always rejected for affection. Thus, anyone who would even look at your way would be bombarded with your attention and affection.

And that anyone, fortunately —for you— is Draco Malfoy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"Heart eyes again, yeah, Y/N? " Fred Weasley —your best friend's brother who is also your best friend— elbows you.

"I honestly don't get what you see in that blondie, " George adds, "I mean, he's.. good looking and all, but his personality? Askaban! "

You simply just roll your eyes at the twins, focusing your attention again on Draco. Or Dray-Dray, as you nicknamed him (He never liked it, and would glance at you with a disgusted look. You loved his face though.)

A few minutes passed by and the boy and his gang of Slytherin friends leave for their classes. Now, you were left wondering about what Draco's type is. It just suddenly came up in your mind! But what is his type? Is it like you? Or is his type those pureblood girls that bullies first years? Hopefully not, hopefully not Pansy Parkinson.

"I wonder if his type is even closer to me.. you know, a fun but serious girl? " You questioned yourself.

"Oy, don't flatter yourself, Y/N. Since when were you serious? " Ron snickers, followed by Hermione hitting his arms.

"But seriously, Y/N, why him? I mean, there's Cedric-", " Too old for me" You interrupted Hermione.

"Okay.. what about Longbottom? He's a nice guy. " She gives you a warm look.

You almost wanted to cackle at Hermione's suggestion, "Seriously, Hermione? Neville is the complete opposite of Dray-Dray. "

"And that's exactly why I wanted you to give him a try, plus, the Yule Ball is in 2 weeks already, " She plastered a smirk on her face, "Let's be real, Y/N, You have no chance with Malfoy.

"I'm aware.. but still! " You insist.

Hermione gave a long sigh, "Do what you want then. But remember, I warned you! " She glances at you with a worried look.

"I'll be fine. "

Your classes for today ended and you went straight to Fred and George.

"Okay.. How do I look? " You fixed your hair. You put a clip on it and put the remaining hair behind your ears.

"Stunning", " Gorgeous" , the twins replied at the same time.

"You got this, Y/N! Plus, if ever that Malfoy prick rejects you, I'll go with you at the Yule Ball. " George says with a reassuring smile.

"Now, off you go! " Fred says, as he gives your back a soft tap.

"Dray- Draco, can we talk? " You ask while fiddling your fingers. It's been at least 5 years since you guys last talked, since his father found out about your friendship.

Draco and his friends glanced at each other, a smirk coming up on all their faces.

"Sure, what is it that you want to talk about? "

"Can we please talk in private? "

".. fine. "

"So, what is it? " Draco started, looking down at your rather smaller figure.

"Um, look, I've been meaning to tell you this since we were kids, " You gave a short inhale,

"Malfoy, I really like you. You were the first person to ever look at me like I'm a normal person, and not some nuisance to society. I've liked you since the day that I met you, the day that we met by the sea shore when you were taking a rest because of all the moving houses thing going on. I really appreciate your kindness toward me.. Well, towards me in the past. I hope that we can be friends again, or even more than that. So Dray-Dray, will you please go to Yule Ball with me? " You let out a long exhale as you said all those words in a span of 30 seconds.

"How pathetic can you be, Y/L/N? " He lets out a chuckle, "For Merlin's sake, are you even capable of being embarrassed? You're honestly the most annoying person I've ever known in my whole life! Since the day that.. "

You couldn't even hear what Draco was saying anymore, you just stood there, your ears ringing. Your vision started to blur. Your body can't physically move at this moment, like you've been paralyzed. After what seemed like an eternity (which is just 3 minutes for Draco), you finally gained consciousness.

"- I feel disgusted and offended that you can even think about being with me, hell, being friends with m-" You cut him off by saying sorry and ran away, just like you did when all those kids from your childhood bullied you.

It all started coming back to you, and you hated Draco for being the reason why.

You headed straight back to your house's common room and straight to your dorm. You ignored all your housemates asking if you were okay.

You flopped on your bed, head onto the pillow. You started letting all your emotions drain you.

These past few days, you started ignoring Draco more and more. You flooded yourself with academics and friends, specifically George Weasley.

You never stare at him in classes anymore, not even in the Great Hall. You started avoiding him at all costs. You couldn't even handle being in the same hallway as him. It makes you teary eyed whenever you remember the things he said to you.

Of course, Draco Malfoy had noticed the drastic change in your demeanor, too. He no longer had this Gryffindor stalking him around. He no longer had this girl that would send him chocolate frogs whenever she goes to Hogsmeade.

He should be glad, that's what Pansy tells him.

"Well, well, well, congratulations, Malfoy. You no longer had an obsessive stalker that would smell your hair whenever she's beside you in charms class! " Blaise Zabini chuckles, as he claps his hands together.

"Mission successful, I guess, huh? " Theodore Nott added.

Draco stayed silent, not answering any remarks, not looking at anyone.

"Anyway, Draco, would you mind going to the Yule Ball with me? " Pansy asks with hope in her eyes.

Meanwhile, Draco was dying inside at the faint mention of the Yule Ball. He remembered what he had said, and what he had lost.

Draco suddenly stood up from the couch of the common room and left the room before anyone could even ask what's going on.

"'m going to make things right, " Draco muttered to himself as he looks for you. Little did he know that Blaise was following him.

"Dude! Malfoy! Wait up! " Zabini yells as he grabs his best friend's arm, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Pansy Parkinson, the finest Slytherin, just asked you if you wanted to go the ball with her. And you're here, bailing? Completely ignoring her? " Blaise yells, trying to put some sense into his friend.

"I already have someone I'm going with. "

"Who? Astoria Greengrass? Merula Synde?"

"None of those, idiot! "

"Who then? Y/N Y/L/N?"

Draco went silent at the mere mention of your name. Blaise looked discombobulated.

"What the hell, man? You're bailing Pansy Parkinson for Y/N Y/L/N? Are you insane?! "

"I don't know anymore, Zabini! I-I don't know what I'm feeling! "

"Are you really that bloody stupid, mate? You rejected her! Countless of times! We even laughed at her silly love letters together with Nott! "

"They were not silly, Zabini, you just.. don't understand. "

"Oh, I don't understand, alright! You hate her, Y/N, since the first year! "

"That's the thing, Zabini, I don't think I hate her now. "

"You've gone mental, man! I'm telling you! Have you flipped?! "

"Trust me, Blaise, I have no idea. "

💬 — hi !! OM GOSH, idk how to end this!! but i'm thinking either angst or fluff.. i still haven't planned. although, i finally found the perfect schedule when dropping fics (not like anyone cares); sundays in philippine time. anyway! i MIGHT make a masterlist now (with 2 fics in them lmao)

Sincerely, March.

[venomhound]

30 More Fluff Prompts

So my friend gave me the brilliant/horrible idea to make some fluff prompts based off actual dumb shit I've done/had happen to me. So here they are I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

These ones weren't pre-written with just myself in mind, so they actually use the proper 'person A/B' format for prompts. First fluff prompt list can be found >>here<<

If you use one of these, please tag me so I can seeee~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(18+), MDNI, NSFW and actual cavity inducing content below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Person A calls person B for their lunch break everyday. And I mean every single day. Person A says B's call and voice is what even allows them to get through the day.

Person A starts calling person B during their lunch break everyday. Person A's coworkers, who they USED to hang out with during lunch, are all super interested in this new supposed paramour. They start gossiping, theorizing, as well as hustling person A trying to get information about person B like its high school. 🌸Bonus points if this is a bunch of old/middle aged/super jacked men doing this

Person A and B have been online friends/dating/"just flirting"™ for months now. They finally decide to meet up in person. When they do, they both are super awkward and tense at first before quickly loosening up and having a blast by the end of the night like they are old pals.

Person A has person B and C accompanying them. B and C have been trying to get A's attention and quickly start competing against each other. B and C get so caught up in trying to one up each other that they completely don't notice person D just calmly walk up to A, ask them out, and whisk A away while they are arguing.

Person A says that they want to accompany person B to all their doctor's appointments and actually insists on it. When B asks them why, person A says its because they are their partner so they want to be there to support them, especially in case something goes wrong.

Person A tells person B that they have something super important to tell them and to let them know when they can talk about it. Person B, all panicked, asks what it is. Person A, with a completely straight face, just says "I love you". 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸*after a long pause* Person B: Wa-was that it?? 🌸Person A, now snickering: What do you mean? Is my LOVE not important to you?

Person A is an artist that knows how to write in a language person B does not. Person A frequently doodles faux tattoos on B, but B doesn't know that the symbols A draws on them are actually messages of love.

Person A and B are sitting next to eachother, fingers intertwined, and lovingly staring into eachothers eyes. They both go in for a kiss. Person B scooches closer and puts their leg in A's lap... only to get jabbed by A's raging hard-on. Person A pulls away from the kiss with an annoyed sigh and says, "I'm sorry, this happens everytime I look at you."

Person A goes up to person B's hotel room with the intention of having sex. However, when person A jumps onto B's lap and starts sweetly kissing them, B absolutely melts from the affection and asks if they can just kiss and cuddle instead.

Person A wakes up next to person B and starts to gently kiss them awake. Person B eventually goes, "I wish I could wake up every morning like this..."

Person A and B are in a long distance relationship. Person A frequently says the words "can I see you?" to B. Which means they want a candid photo of B, right then, in the moment. It doesn't matter what stupid stuff B is doing, or how garbage they feel, A always gushes over how beautiful B is when they send a picture.

Person A is on the phone with person B. A child person A is with (they can be babysitting or it can be their own child, whatever) suddenly shouts, "Are you on the phone with your wife?". Person B starts dying of laughter while person A is just completely shocked like, "M-my wife??" 🌸Bonus dialogue: 🌸Person A: We are not married we are just dating. 🌸Child: But you love them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah? 🌸Child: And you would do anything for them right? 🌸Person A: Yeah...? 🌸Child: THAT MEANS YA MARRIED.

Person A constantly tells everyone how amazing their partner, person B is. Its to the point that person A has now started carrying around pictures of B just so they can brag about them.

Person A told their parent(s) about how deeply they are in love with person B. So now said parent(s) are desperately trying to meet/get to know person B much to A's dismay. B has no idea what is going on.

Person A suddenly texts/calls person B and starts trying desperately to make plans at some point later in the day for them to meet up. Person B keeps shooting down all of A's ideas saying they will be busy during that time or other reasons why the idea won't work. Until person A finally breaks down and says, "look. I just... really want to see you."

Person A is totally lost. Person B finds them and knows immediately they are lost because they are just that pathetic/confused looking. When person A asks person B for directions, B is like 'Ill just show you where to go so you don't get lost again'. B grabs A's hand and leads them to their destination holding hands so they don't lose them.

Person A and B haven't seen eachother in awhile. When they finally see eachother again, they both go in for a big hug. Person A sighs and mumbles "god I missed your hugs". There is then an awkward pause before Person A nervously asks, "...did I say that outloud?"

Person A is hanging out in a mall with some friends when suddenly person B walks up and gives person A a big hug from behind. Person A is confused at first, but is then shocked when they turn around and see person B, someone who they haven't seen in years.

Person A is walking past some stores when suddenly they hear their name shouted from behind them. They turn around to see person B, their best friend from years ago. Person B is wearing the uniform of one of the shops A passed, so B was clearly working and ran out when they saw A. They both run at eachother into an embrace like its a tv show.

Person A and B start a movie/tv show marathon together. At the start, they are practically on opposite sides of the couch. But they keep slowly getting closer and closer as the marathon goes on. Until by the end, they are firmly snuggled into each other.

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. You were just so pretty I couldn't look at you in the eyes."

Person A: I love you. Person B: *gasps* I love you!! I've been wanting to say that but I didn't want to scare you…

"Honestly? I would be happy if I just got to come home from work everyday to you and a kiss."

"Coming home to you everyday would make everything worth it."

"I never really believed in the whole soulmate thing until I met you. There... isn't really another way to explain how perfect everything came together."

Person A: So, um... Would you be okay if we cuddle? Person B: *immediately scooches over* Yesplease.

Person A: Do you really have to go? Person B: Sweetie. We have been cuddling for 4 hours.

"Look. I don't mind sharing a bed. But I do demand cuddles as payment."

Person A, panicking and running their sentences together: I-I totally understand if your uncomfortable with me sleeping in the bed. I can just sleep on the floor, it's fine-OR I can sleep on the couch- Person B: *slow frog blink* …I'm fine with you sleeping in the bed, dumb-dumb.

Person A: Your couch is like... mega uncomfortable. Can I just like- share the bed with you? Person B: Seriously??!

[serialkilluh1996]

𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄™

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bimboish-female-reader

Warnings; none. Just pure foolery.

Simon loved you. He wouldn't admit it, of course, but you were his favorite subordinate. You were kind and generous, like some princess who belonged in a castle, only to have wound up working as his assistant. He wondered how you even got hired at such a tough place. Maybe you'd sprinkled fairy dust on your application.

You made him weak, merely a facade of the stone cold man he used to be. It's like you had dug a hole in his heart, making a soft spot for yourself to burrow in. You made coming to work more bearable for Simon.

He was eager more willing to get up in the morning cause he knew he'd see you not once, not twice, but a plethora of times throughout the day. He'd see your defined smile and your lively eyes and your bubbly enthusiasm. Simon was convinced it was all just a facade you put on at work. There was no way someone could be this....happy all the time.

You walk into his office, a grin on your face so firm that it pulled the skin from your throat. "You called, Mr. Riley?" "It's lieutenant, sweetheart. But, yeah, I did." He didn't seem as chipper to see you today. He never expressed true happiness anyway. He was just more neutral when you were around. Not today, though. His brows were tense, his eyes were squinted, a tight and precise stare glaring you down like a sniper. "Have a seat." He demands, waving his hand in a come hither motion.

You comply, skipping over to the chair before plopping down and spinning in it. "Don't spend in the chair, please. I'm already on HR's ass about replacing these before they give out."

"Right, of course." You kick out your foot, stopping yourself on the desk, eyes landing directly on his. He looked pretty upset about something.

"I got a complaint about you being out with my men last night. Wanna explain what's going on?" He leans forward accusingly, elbows against the desk and hands under his chin. "Well, we were just out for drinks an–" "Oh, you were out for drinksss?" He says sarcastically, slightly more irritated. "And let me guess, you went home with them too?"

"Of course I did." "Oh, christ." He facepalms, leaning back in his chair, making it creak under his weight.

"Let me explain somethin'. You are MY assistant, you got that? That means your work here is exclusive to me and what I ask you to do. You don't take orders from anyone else here. Not even the captain. Therefore, you have no need or reason to be fraternizing with my men." He lectures you, now visibly angry.

You could tell that going home with them was what pushed him other the edge. "I couldn't let them go alone. They were too drunk to drive." You defended. "Sweetheart, these are grown men. They know their limit and they purposely exceeded it. It's not your responsibility to baby them. They can face the consequences of their actions. They are dangerous individuals that you should distance yourself from. You don't know my men."

"Of course I know them, we see eachother everyday." Simon sighs at your statement. "I'd like to believe that too. but at the end of the day, men always have ulterior motives."

"Ulterior motives?" You tilt your head in confusion. He huffs, muttering under his breath. "Alright, let's say Price, for example. You're this cute girl, smaller than most of the people here. And price is this huge caption, some hairy old weirdo pushing 40. And he invites you over his house. What do you think he wants from you?" His brow arches. "Well, I don't really know John enough to know what he wants."

".....god, why...." it took everything in his will power to hold back his emotions. How could you be so dense? He breathes, steadying himself for the next question.

"Well, would you go or not?" "Yes!" "Yes!?" His voice is strained with shock and distress. "Well, how else am I gonna find out what he wants?" You fold your arms, becoming upset yourself. "Did it not even cross your mind to just ask?!"

"Well, what if he lies?" "What if he lies...." Simon repeats, chuckling under the aggravation, holding back how much you were angering him. How could you be this...slow? "And that's your concern.....tell me, sweetheart...how old are you?" "21." You respond, a small pout in your tone.

"Twenty..one... just...take the week off. I want you to come by my office later on tonight..." "for what?" You ask. "Does it matter if I tell you? What if I lie?" He laughs with exhaustion, and you follow suite. You two were gonna have a looong talk.

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[cursed-byesexual]

I'm such a sucker for fics from the pov of some NormalPerson™ who tries to understand what the actual fuck is going on with your fave. For example;

- Hermione's parents sort of got used to their daughter talking about dragons and curses and she makes it sound like its no big deal so they just go along with their strange kid. Except now there's a man at the door who says he's the minister of magic and he would like to personally invite you and your daughter to the first memorial of the final battle as she is a war hero of the highest order. What do you mean there was a war? Hermione, get down here this instant!

-Or a true crime podcast about the crimes of Sam and Dean Winchester through the eyes of someone who went to college with Sam. He hosts podcast nights and everytime one of Sams alleged kills is described he tells the friends who are listening with them about that time Sam went vegetarian for a month after watching a nature channel docu.

-Or Percy Jackson returns to a mortal high school after one of his adventures and one of his teachers has to try and decipher the transcripts from his old schools. How the fuck did this little skater boy blow up his last school? Why isn't he in prison??? Or dead??? The parent-teacher conference night that follows is one for the ages as Sally Jackson lies her ass off, but with skill.

-Or John Watson decides to go to a class reunion against better knowledge and Sherlock tags along to learn more about John out of boredom. His former classmates don't understand what the hell Sherlock Holmes is doing at their party if there hasn't been a murder and absolutely come to the conclusion that the two are together. They have to be, right?

Basically anything that puts these unhinged adventures and relationships into perspective I guess, sorry if these don't make sense,,, tag me if you know any fics of this sort! For any fandom! Or comment you own hc!!!

[sporeclan]

Cinnamonpaw sat still in his kittypet bed, eyes dry and unclosing. The jingle of his stupid collar and the thought of his former clan kept him up. What would they do if he came home and recognized no one? What if they knew him and called him Cinnamonpaw, only to disappoint them by telling them his name is now Mothie? What if his family was dead? What if all of his clan mates were-

The sound of shuffling and steps distracted him from his swirl of thoughts. He got up from the moss- kittypet bed, and cocked his head outside of the twoleg door. The other kittypets that live with him swarmed over... something? Cinnamon- no, Mothie, prayed it wasn't a clanmate. A small, golden-yellow cat was hunched over and trembling, wearing a small wool cloth that the twolegs gave him when he first arrived. Champ, the large, black rosette tabby she-cat that lived with him, kept her distance from the new cat, seemingly trying to make them comfortable. Suddenly-

-'Who's that?' -The cat asked, pointing at him.

-'That's Mothie, he's kind of boring and a bit neurotic and tends to ignore us, but he's pretty cool once you get to know him. Also he came from a "clan", thing? I don't actually know what it is but-'

-'I lived near one! It was called... umm.. Sporeclan or something-'

Sporeclan?! Cinnamonpaw jumped, eyes widened.

-'How- who- what-' He kept stammering.

-'Easy there, pal. You wouldn't want to scare the newbie, do ya'?' -Nessie, the slick furred, old, gray ticked tom told him, chuckling. Cinnamo- Mothie's eyes darted across the room.

-'Do.. you know Mousegrove? Or-or Spottedpaw, or Mushroompaw, or... Cliffpaw?' Mothie's eyes started to tear up thinking about his family.

-'I have heard about... Spottedfrost and uh... Cliffthicket i think was their name?' -The golden-yellow cat said with uncertainty in their words.

They graduated! Cinnamonpaw grinned, eyes closed, letting a tear fall down his cheek. ...What about Mushroompaw?

-'What about Mushroompaw..?'

-'I don't know much about them, like i said, i lived near them, not with them... Anyway, my name's Yucca- i mean.. uh... Big Paws.'

Oh. His small smile washed away. I guess she hasn't graduated yet? Or she's... she's...

-'Well.. hi Big Paws. Let Champ show you round. I'm going back to my bed.' -Cinnamonpaw murmured, before slinking back inside his den- room.

He could have sworn he heard Champ say he's boring, however, he couldn't care less about what she said. A different thought invaded his mind, and he couldn't let go of it.

What was his mentor's name?

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

Hiii there!! Hope you enjoyed this thing (i sound like a youtuber). I named the other house cats after cryptids! Cinnamonpaw/Mothie is named after Mothman, Champ is named after the Lake Champlain Monster, Nessie is named after the Loch Ness Monster and Yucca/Big Paws is named after Bigfoot!

This is more of a "Cinnamonpaw forgets lots of shit and may or may not have depression" and a little bit of "Hehe silly Pointless Pelt Descriptions™! (<- My worst enemy)" I just wanted yall to know what the cats look like so you could have some ideas about what they look like

-💐

AUUUHGHHHGGG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH,, MY POOR LITTLE GUYYYY </3</3</3 he deserves the world.............

[star--anon]

Minho, who moved into Gally's childhood house

unknowingly also moving into an active War Zone™

it's Gally VS Thomas

they're both ghosts

they're fighting over who gets to haunt the place

both of them have attached themselves to the house already and are trying to convince the other to un-attach themselves

attaching oneself to a place is a simple procedure

In fact, it's so simple it can happen on accident for a lot of ghosts

like Thomas, who thought the house was cute and spent so long there that he just woke up attached one day

meanwhile, Gally grew up in the house as a living human and has haunted the place for three years

So he's not about to let some silly accidental ghost take it away from him

any number of ghosts can be attached to a property, but traditionally, only one ghost haunts it

the others just kind of... meander

most ghosts lose interest in staying connected to the physical world

and enjoy floating mindlessly in some forgotten corner of an establishment, wandering in their waking dreams

but Thomas and Gally aren't those kinds of ghosts

Minho isn't even aware of the fight between the two at first

Thomas and Gally don't really pay attention to Minho either

He's not really a "human being with feelings"

he's just another part of the house

that the haunting ghost gets the right to mess with

until Minho starts tearing down the old wallpaper, renovating the showers, replacing the mirrors, etc.

the two ghosts quickly set their rivalry aside to drive away the parasite that's demolishing their precious haunting place

they start off small

Minho can't find his keys, his TV remote is always missing, why is his toothbrush in the toilet, where did all the windows go, was this area of the house always this dark, why is it so cold, why are his blankets trying to strangle him

(okay Gally went too far with that one)

Step 2: ants start stealing his food, faces appear behind Minho in the mirror, rats drown themselves in his morning coffee, the doors open and close loudly at night, the basement stairs try to chew off Minho's feet

(okay Gally went too far again)

before they can get to Step 3, Minho catches on

he guessed that there was a ghost in the house at Step 1

Step 2 made him realize the ghost might be more malicious than he thought

he starts tossing food into the campfire as offerings for whatever spirit is messing with him

a ghost is kind of like a vampire. They need permission to do certain things

such as eating physical food

Thomas, who died last week and is unused to no longer being able to eat, eagerly accepts whatever Minho throws out of the flames

he stops messing with Minho

Minho notices the decline in ghostly antics and increases the food offerings

Gally is offended that Thomas is so easily swayed

"This is why you would've never made a good haunting ghost"

"Okay but you haven't tasted his pasta. He makes really good pasta."

as respectful and knowledgeable as Minho is, he's wrong on one thing: He thinks there's only one ghost

He buys a larger bed and another pillow, inviting the ghost (just one) to sleep. He puts out a second toothbrush (just one). He makes a second dinner (just one) and buys a second kitchen chair (just one)

for all his kindness, Minho only ever invites one ghost

so of course, Thomas and Gally fight over who gets to be Minho's ghost

(at some point you have to wonder if maybe they just like fighting)

"Just haunt the house. You love this house. You've haunted it for three years or something."

"You're just saying that because you want to haunt Minho"

"You want to haunt Minho too!"

"He's in my house! He's mine!"

"I literally died last week! I deserve some sympathy! I'm vulnerable and sad right now! You have no sympathy!!"

"You can get the pasta that he throws into the fire"

they draw hearts in the mirror (Thomas erases Gally's)

they helpfully write grocery lists for him (Gally tears up Thomas')

they drive away pests from his garden (both try to take credit for what's technically a team effort)

Thomas coaxes a stray cat into the house and is heartbroken when Minho tosses the cat back outside, not knowing it's a gift

Gally offers his old childhood toys (memories are the most precious thing a ghost can give) by putting them on Minho's bed and then sulks when Minho doesn't touch them

(he's afraid of angering whatever put them there by messing up the toys)

Thomas irons out Minho's clothes

Gally steals clothes from random passerby's and gifts them to Minho

(definitely Gally going too far again)

(Minho is frazzled by the increase of naked people outside his house)

they TOTALLY fall in love with him during the process

this is important and 100% normal

they start worrying when Minho takes too long to come home from work

Gally and Thomas even detach themselves from their beloved house to go looking for Minho

(who fell asleep at work 'cause his boss overworked him)

(picture that scene from Ratatouille)

Gally drapes a blanket over Minho's exhausted body while Thomas angrily goes to find his boss

he spends the rest of the night terrorizing him

(Gally is impressed by Thomas' ferocity. He doesn't tell him that, of course)

Minho is losing his mind

because he is the receiver (the victim, really) of a ghost's affection

unbeknownst to him, he is in fact the victim of TWO ghosts' affection

and how is he supposed to maintain his reputation as a normal person... if he's starting to feel affection for a ghost

it ends with all three of them kissing btw

[keravnous]

treat me like a s!ut ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 4 here

Tangerine comes home to you scrubbing the blood out of one of his button-downs in the bathtub. He always had a thing for seeing his favourite plaything on its knees.

word count: 9,5 k

warnings: spanking, fingering, oral (male receiving), cumshot, toys, bimbofication, housewife kink (that a thing??), mean/strict dom!tangerine (but he's actually a big softie), negotiated objectification, uh face slapping - once or twice, daddy kink, pet names, spit kink, size kink, name calling, multiple orgasms, edging, (heavy) squirting; this man is into some nasty shit - convince me otherwise, my feminism left my fucking body alright, the angry man™ makes my knees go weak

i listened to kim petras' slut pop ep and listen, it-, I-, so -, yeah. Lost control, I guess. I also saw the pictures of atj in a million little pieces and that didnt help much

thank you mel for encouraging me and thank you v for enduring me while writing this

You barely hear the door of the town house falling shut over the splashing of the water.

You are currently kneeling - very much to the protest of your upper back, which has been causing all sorts of pain during work at the office today - over the tub in your spacious bathroom, water still running into the already half-full, half-bloody bathtub. Your arms are wet up to your elbow from trying to scrub out some nasty and very resistant bloodstains out of one of Tangerine's shirts.

He had been in a nasty pub brawl after last week's West Ham victory and, knowing it was one of his favourite shirts, you had tried your best to get it clean. But even two rounds in the washing machine didn't do much. Thus, you decided to give it a good old handwash.

"Love?", you hear a familiar voice calling out and you huff with exhaustion, sinking back onto the heels of your feet.

"Yeah, I'm in the bathroom!", you answer and a moment later he appears in the opened door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

"What're ya doin' there?", Tangerine furrows his brows. He is wearing one of his suits, hair still neatly combed back like he hasn't been out for 8 hours, doing God knows what.

"Hand washing this shirt of yours, stains won't go out in the machine", you pull the fabric out of the tub, water slushing down. There's little improvement. You decide to rub a little harder.

Tangerine says nothing - just watches you, dressed in nothing but a big shirt and what he assumes are panties hiding underneath its hem; watches the way it scoots up every now and then when you scrub with more force, confirming his suspicions. It is a tiny light blue string made from fine lace, one, that he had bought for you a while ago.

He swallows, feeling himself growing hard in his slacks. It is not just the sight of you - even more so it's you doing this for him. Cleaning something up, that he had messed up.

Actually, he's thankful that you are going out of your way to clean up his clothes. He knows that it is a hell of a job to get blood out of any sort of fabric and he feels guilty for somehow putting you through it, especially since it is painfully obvious where the stains come from.

He knows it was your decision to stay - to stay with him - to keep up with the life he leads, and the job that brings in the tons of money keeping you afloat comfortably.

Still, he feels like making it up to you. There is something about you kneeling there, doing chores, that remembers him of something you had said to him a while ago. Something that now has his blood pumping, making him feel like he's about to burst.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?", you say, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead, a few drops of water running down your cheek.

"Get up, love."

You look up, eyes furrowing with confusion. "Why? I am nearly done with -"

"Wanna properly say Hello to my little housewife, me", there is a mischievous gleam in his eyes and it has your heartbeat picking up immediately.

You know what that means. You have been speaking about this: the idea of him coming home after a long, maybe even dangerous day and just taking you, bending you over the nearest surface because it pleased him - that the thought of him treating you like nothing more but an obedient housewife, cleaning up, keeping everything tidy and clean for him, and taking his cock whenever he pleased, made you wet. That the thought of being nothing more than a stupid little hole to him excited you.

The first time this particular thing had come up, had been after Tangerine returned home late after a delayed flight. You'd been up still, cooking him dinner. What was intended as nothing but a sweet gesture of adoration - knowing that he'll be both hungry and exhausted - turned into something else, after he had grabbed your hips from behind and bent you over the countertop for a quick fuck. It made something in your brain click, a new desire taking over your fantasies.

Now, you swallow, his shirt slowly sinking back into the soapy water - with its swirls of dried and darkened blood of some poor soul who was unlucky enough to meet your man on a particularly violentday - as you get up.

"You don't have to, you had a long day", you say softly.

"It's fine, lemme do this for ya", grabbing the nearest towel you dry off your arms and hands before coming closer to him. He stretches one hand out.

"C'mere", Tangerine smiles, all bright teeth and lines around his eyes and you do - taking his hand and then he pulls you against his firm chest, your hands resting on his shoulders. You inhale deeply, taking in his scent - wood, vanilla, orange - that wraps you in like a heavy blanket and you sigh.

"Don't burn yourself out over this fuckin' shirt, dove", he mumbles into your hair, arms wrapping around you, one hand confidently grabbing your ass cheek.

"I wasn't", your nose brushes over his throat, lips peppering gentle kisses to the soft skin. His hand firmly brushes over your tense shoulders, feeling the hardened tendons and both of you know that you are lying.

"Relax, love", he whispers, lips ghosting over your ear, "Let Daddy take care of ya."

And your body obeys to him as quickly as it always does: sinks against him, muscles going a little slack. You allow yourself to surrender to him fully, body going limp and mind going blank as you hand control over to him.

Tangerine's hand brushes through your hair, cups the back of your scalp and gives you a few gentle, patronizing strokes while one of his strong arms wraps around your waist, keeps you pressed against him upright.

"Y'good, love?", he says quietly and you release a satisfied hum.

"Words, poppet, be a good girl."

"Yeah -- yeah, I'm alright, keep going", you whisper against his chest, "Please."

The hand stroking your scalp vanishes, fingers brushing over your cheek and cupping your chin until it is lifting your head up. Your eyes meet his.

"So, what did I say?", Tangerine says sternly, gaze boring into yours.

You swallow, breath hitching a little and your chest heaves with it. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, your tummy tingling with want. The hand on your cheek is warm, the cold tingle of his rings on your skin grounding you.

"What did I say?”, he says again, squinting at you. It makes your knees buckle.

"N-never scrub without a brush", you whisper, lust making you choke on your words.

"Mhm, exactly", he hums, nods, "Then, why didn't ya do it?"

"Because --", you suck in air through parted lips, thighs rubbing together, eyelids fluttering, "Because I am stupid, stupid girl."

"That you are, m'little airhead", he says softly, voice growing deep, "And what do stupid little girls get?"

"Punished", you whisper, eyes glowing with excitement and stomach tingling with it just the same. You know, that he is not really mad and it sure does feel like a lot like it, making you bite your lower lip.

Tangerine nods again, thumb caressing your cheek. "Get on the bed, get naked - ya can still do that for me, can ya, silly? Or did ya little brain already leave your pretty head, there?"

You shake your head, fingers clinging into the expensive jacket of his suit as you stand up straight again, mind already a little hazy.

"Good", Tangerine nods slowly, eyes darting down to where your bodies meet. His hand leaves your cheek and you whine but it crawls down, one long finger hooking in the collar of your shirt and pulling it down. He tilts his head a little, as he's looking at your cleavage, tits pressed up nicely by his chest. You're not wearing a bra and he smiles - cold and cruel. "Get going, love, I wanna see what's mine."

You nod, swaying a little on your feet as you take a step back, arousal pooling in your abdomen. "Don't take too long", he says, gives your ass a lazy slap as you walk past him.

You do as you're told, carelessly dropping your shirt and panties on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, before climbing onto the soft mattress. Splaying out on your stomach with your feet dangling in the air you wait for him until he finally, finally enters the bedroom. He is still wearing his suit, only dropped his jacket, and is carrying a small pink bag. You know what's inside, stomach tingling at the thought.

Tangerine tosses it onto the bed and sits down next to you, hooks his slender index finger beneath your chin, guiding your head up. His thumb brushes over your lower lip and your jaw goes slack, tongue darting out and rubbing over it. He grins and pushes the digit in, has you obediently closing your lips around it, sucking on his thumb.

His other hand wanders up to his tie, loosens it and then carelessly drops it to the floor, pops open a few buttons of his shirt.

"Stupid lil' thing, hm", he hums, "Sucking on my thumb like it's my cock? That needy already?"

You nod nod nod, blinking up at him and his other hand cups your chin, keeps your head in place. Your tongue rubs over the pad of his thumb and Tangerine licks his lips, eye twitching a little. "Listen here", he bows down a little, voice nothing but a growl, "Ya gonna take what Daddy gives ya, y'hear me? If I wanna see your little cunt cum ten times, then that's what we're gonna do, 'lright?"

You nod around his thumb, excitement fluttering in your tummy but he just tsks at you. "Thought so -", pulling his thumb from your mouth he pats his thigh, "Time for your punishment, love. Only good girls get rewarded, don't they?"

"I wanna be a good girl", you whisper, as Tangerine deliberately and carefully rolls his sleeves up. Eagerly you crawl over his lap and then sink down, upper body on the mattress, hips on his thighs with your ass in the air. You can feel his already rock-hard dick pressing into your stomach and your whole body tingles with lust at the sensation.

"You wanna be a good girl?", Tangerine says, mocking your tone, as one large ringed hand grabs your ass, kneads the flesh, "D'you know what good girls do?"

Biting your lip you shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder, through your lashes. "They don't fuck up simple tasks."

"'M sorry, Daddy", you say cutely and he fucking growls at that, a dark shadow dancing over his blue eyes, turning them navy - into a stormy sea. Tangerine's hand rubs over your ass, the other presses down between your shoulder blades. The stretch in your back is delicious, and the way it presses one side of your face into the mattress has your head swimming, eyelids fluttering. "Legs together, dove", and you obey, pressing your thighs together, "There ya go. What d'ya think? Fifteen?"

You mewl, feet kicking with excitement, wetness pooling between your legs. "Want you to say it", Tangerine's hand plays with your ass, grabs one cheek and spreads it apart, thumb digging into the flesh and kneading it, "Go ahead and tell Daddy you want him to hit ya."

"Uuh", you mumble dumbly, heart racing and pussy already wet, and he scoffs at that meanly, "Wanna - Daddy, please - want you to hit me!"

"For?"

"F-for being a stupid girl."

"Atta girl", his hand gently strokes your ass cheek, "You'll get fifteen - no whinin', no yappin'."

"Y-yes", you nod, biting your lip in anticipation, readying yourself for the first hit. And he wastes no time, gives your ass a light squeeze and then his ringed hand comes down, hits your right cheek with a loud smack. You gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the tingling burn spreading through your backside.

The second and third hit follow, making you moaning quietly - warmth spreading on your skin, the slight burn tingling.

Tangerine watches your skin slowly turning into a soft pink and grabs a handful, thumb brushing over the forming bruise. He hums quietly to himself, hand wandering down, caressing your inner thigh - his rings are cold, bracelet rustling, and shivers run down your spine.

He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, hand wandering dangerously high and you hum, but it vanishes before being close enough to your cunt. The other hand on your back adds a little more pressure, and you gasp at the stretch.

"Such a pretty girl", he hums, bounces you on his legs a little, "What a shame you're so silly."

You whimper, hands aimlessly darting over the sheets. You want him to hit you again, with your ass already feeling a little sore and the way the slight pain runs straight to your core, makes your pussy so so wet.

"Can't even clean a fuckin' shirt", he tsks just as his hand comes down once more, two quick blows on your left and right cheek, has your ass jiggling with the force of it. He watches it, then grabs a handful and feels you up.

His thumb digs into the flesh close to your crack as he toys with your ass, and you can feel the way it spreads your folds apart. Your pussy is desperate for any sort of friction and you gasp as your clit throbs, rubbing your thighs together.

"Uuh-huh", is all that leaves your mouth dumbly, with his hard cock pressing against your stomach, hot and twitching through his slacks. It's hard to think, to form a coherent thought - all that's on your mind is his thick cock. "Daddy--", you gasp, rutting your hips down on his thigh, fresh wetness running down your legs and onto his trousers.

"Stop - fuckin' - movin'", each word lands another blow and you cry out, trying your best not to move on his lap, but the sharp pain has your hips jolting upward, shoots riiight into your cunt, hole clenching.

"Oh, you're really enjoying this, aren't ya, poppet?", Tangerine scoffs as you moan, your legs falling apart a little, "I can smell how wet you are, darlin'. Lemme see."

Your fingers claw into the sheets, wanting nothing more but the smallest touch. His large hand brushes over your ass, rings cold on your hot and reddening skin and then it dips between your cheeks, brushes down your crack and between your thighs.

"Fuckin' hell", he whispers as his index finger runs through your folds. He wasn't wrong - you are incredibly wet, thick watery slick makes his finger slip over your pussy smoothly as he assesses your arousal. Easily, he slips one ringed finger into you, bottoms it out. Your cunt clenches around it and he marvels at how tight you are, a trembling moan leaving your lips. It's not enough, you want him to fuck you - hard and fast - but it has your chest fluttering nonetheless.

The finger retreats as quickly as it entered you, circles your hole and thehand on your back crawls down, gives your left cheek a light pat that has you squirming.

"Nothing but a set of pretty holes f'me, aren't ya, love?", and you mewl, feet kicking a little as his fingers continue to run through your folds, his other hand now landing another blow on your ass. It stings nicely and you moan, desperately trying to roll your hips onto the finger rubbing lazy circles over your clit.

"D'ya want Daddy to put it back inside?", and you nod nod nod, but he just laughs.

"Words, silly, good girls use their words, don'they?", and you inhale a shaky breath, before lifting your head a little, looking over your shoulder.

Tangerine looks at you, one brow smugly cocked, and it's only the slight flush of his chest visible underneath the unbuttoned collar of his shirt that betrays him. That, and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

It makes your head swim, blinking up at him dumbly, lips falling agape a little. "Uhh", you breathe, "P-please--"

Tangerine lands another blow on your ass and you gasp loudly, followed by a desperate noise leaving your throat. "Words, slut."

You look up at him with big, watery eyes. "P-please", you say, voice shaking a little, "Finger m-me."

"There ya go", he says softly, finger abandoning your clit and pressing into your hole a moment later. He slips it in with ease, buries it deep inside of you and immediately starts to thrust it in and out.

"Yeah, wan'me to use you, eh love?", he fucks into you fast and deep, squelching sounds filling the air, "Want Daddy to stuff your pretty little hole, don't ya?"

"Y-yes", you plead, feeling his finger brushing over your walls, his golden ring against your hole. You can hear him hum and then his hand comes down for two more hits on your ass, has you clenching around his finger, moaning against the sheets.

Tangerine wastes no time, adds a second finger, stretches your tight hole out with the way he pushes them in, cold rings slipping in a little.

The sensation nearly has you going insane on the spot, rutting back on his fingers which earns you nothing more but another blow on your right cheek. "Keep on movin' and I tie you to a fuckin' chair for the rest of the day, whore", and you moan, hips stuttering and he pushes a third finger in.

Obscene squelching sounds of your hole being fucked and filled, of your slick wetting his fingers, emerge between your legs and you gasp as his digits brush over your favourite spot. Your loins ignite with it and your abdomen clenches, cunt squirting against the palm of his hand.

"Please, p-please - oh - fuck, fuck", you brabble, eyes tearing up and he tsks, shakes his head.

"Ah ah ah c'mon, words, love. Don't ya curse - you're too pretty to curse like Daddy always does, aren't ya? M'pretty lil' thing, eh?"

His hand comes down on your ass hard, has you gasping loudly, wincing in pain while his fingers continue to fuck you.

"One more, baby", and your hips buck, "Can my slut take one more?"

Tangerine's hand caresses your reddening ass, where a bruise in the form of his hand forms, an angry red and dark red where his rings hit your skin. His bracelet rustles and he grabs a handful, jiggles your left cheek. "Y-yes", you moan, his fingers rubbing your walls, making your legs tremble.

"Ready up", he says and you can hear him grin. Still, nothing can prepare you for how hard his hand comes down and how loud the blow echoes off the bedroom's walls, how the pain shoots through your ass and right between your legs, has you crying out with both: pain and pleasure.

Your walls contract around him as your lower belly contracts, squeezes his fingers and he knows what's about to happen, knows your body like his own.

"Don't you fuckin' cum, now", he says sternly, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, pushing your slick in and out in and out, and then in once more, as he nestles his fingers deeply in your tight and hot cunt halting any movement, "Be a good girl and hold it fo' Daddy."

Your muscles clench and your thighs contract, as you're giving your best to hold back your release, chest heaving as you moan into the mattress.

Tangerine leans down a little, his other hand wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Don't" - he whispers, the fingers inside of you start moving again, their pads very very slowly rubbing along your walls - "You" - his tongue darts out, licks over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling a little, "Cum now."

Your chest heaves with every ragged breath that you suck in, hips trembling and cunt squirting against his fingers, lust pulsating wildly through your loins and making your head swim as you are trying your best to just not cum. Tangerine chuckles lowly, gaze wandering over your body, taking in the way your legs tremble and feet kick - he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers and he really, really wants to get you on all fours and just bury his cock inside of you, fucking you senseless until you're a brabbling, drooling mess. His dick is so fucking hard, pressing against his slacks and it has him on the edge, the beast inside him tearing at the seams, but he knows better than to just act upon it, wants to make it better for you.

Tangerine watches the muscles is your legs and back relaxing over the passing minutes that you warm his fingers, walls and pussy growing plush and warm warm warm, as you hold him inside of you, breath slowing down a little with it, too.

"Mhm, there ya go", your hole flutters around his fingers as he pulls them out and you mewl, legs wobbly with your denied orgasm, cunt aching for just another small touch. You can feel it pulsating, your clit throbbing.

"Daddy", you whine helplessly, hips lifting a little, "N-need your cock." And he's gonna give it to you, feels like he's about to burst anyways.

"Shh shh", Tangerine coos, sticky hand rubbing over your sore ass, the slight pain igniting your lust even more, has fresh wetness pooling between your folds, "Good girls get rewarded, don'they?"

You nod frantically, thighs rubbing together. "Well," you can hear the grin forming on his face, "Get on your fuckin' knees, then."

Tangerine parts his thighs a little and you scramble from his lap hastily, sinking down between his spread legs. Your ass is sore and burns and as you sink on to your thighs you can feel the sting, eyes tearing up a little and you blink up at him - hands resting obediently on his knees.

"Look at ya", he whispers, a dark shadow dancing over his eyes, as he licks his lips.

Tangerine cups your face with both hands, carefully brushing a few loose strands from your cheeks and forehead. Your hands brush over his thighs, feeling his muscles twitch beneath the expensive fabric and then you lean in. You're all cock-drunk, needy and wanting with your cunt pulsing between your legs. Your tongue runs over the outline of his clothed dick, leaves a damp stripe behind and Tangerine groans, eyes growing even darker. "Fuckin' hell, you really need't be stuffed, huh", he watches you running your lips over his bulge and he feels like he's about to burst; creaming into his pants like he's fucking 16 and living on the streets again, watching some hooker giving a City man a gobby behind a dumpster.

"Stop it", Tangerine husks, grabs your hair, and yanks your head away, breath already a little ragged, "Fuckin' behave ya'self."

Your eyes gleam up at him and he grins, thumb brushing over your temple gently. "C'mon, get my dick out, will ya?"

You comply, fingers hastily fumbling open his belt and pulling down the zipper, opening the fly of his pants and yanking his satin boxers down.

Tangerine inhales sharply as his long and thick dick springs free against his abdomen, tip flushed pink and glistening with precum. Your mouth waters at the sight and he wants to drag it out, he really wants to, feel arousal pumping through his veins - gets high on it like only adrenaline usually does it for him.

But it's physically impossible - the way you're looking at his hard cock with watery, dopey eyes and flushes cheeks while kneeling in front of him naked has his boner fucking aching. "Fuckin' get to it already, slut."

And you do, one hand grabbing his dick at the base, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up to the tip, flicking your tongue over it and licking his precum up.

You love his cock, you really do. Nice and long and thick, cut and resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair. You love the way he fucks you with it, too, how it never misses the spot that has you seeing stars and white spots, how it feels like it has been made for your pussy and yours alone.

You love how it tastes, salty and musky, and you wrap your lips around its tip, resting it on your tongue - not sucking, not licking - just feeling and tasting his dick.

It's fucking huge anyways, looks like it too, wrapped in by your slender fingers. You close your eyes, tongue swirling around the tip before your close your lips around it, gently sucking while your hand strokes the base of his cock.

"Mh, that's how it's supposed t'be, ain't it, sugar?", he hums, hands brushing through your hair, "Me coming home to ya, my pretty little housewife, ready to please."

You hum around his cock, slowly letting him in deeper, tongue rubbing over the bottom while your lips suck. You can hear him breathe deeply and your gaze flicks up to him.

Tangerine looks down at you, eyes dark and shining with lust, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, his chest flushed. The look on his face makes you wet wet wet, wanting to please him.

You keep your eyes on him as you take more of his dick into your mouth, relaxing your jaw but still gagging a little as the tip grazes your throat. He chuckles meanly.

"C'mon love, you can do better than that, can't ya?", Tangerine fists your hair and you hallow your cheeks, your jaw going slack as you let him in further.

You want to be good for him - good girl good girl good girl - your body practically igniting with every little praise he grants you and you want to hear it again. Thus, you move your head around his cock, sucking him off, tongue rubbing over the bottom his dick.

Quickly, you are overdoing it, choking, and gagging around it, eyes tearing up as you hastily suck in a few breaths through your nose.

"Look at ya, all pretty tits and tight holes, but no fuckin' brain", Tangerine mocks, thumb stroking your cheekbone, rubbing over your temple, and then wandering through your hair, cupping the back of your head, "You look so pretty with my cock in ya mouth like that. Only thing you're good for, eh?"

He doesn't wait for you to regain your breath, rolls his hips once, holds your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth.

You relax your throat, letting him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of it. Still sucking in air through your nose your eyelids flutter, readying yourself for what you know is about to come.

Knowing him, you're not wrong as he starts to roll his hips again and again, groaning with the sensation of his dick burying itself deep in your throat.

Tangerine watches how his cock vanishes in your mouth, bulges your throat a little and he can't hold back anymore. His hand grabs your neck, thumb pressing against your scalp and starts to fuck into your mouth. "Fuckin' hell", he huffs, your spit slicking his cock as he slips in and out of your mouth.

You moan, sending vibrations through his cock that has it twitching in your throat, making your eyes tear up, gagging a little.

Being used by him like this has your heartbeat picking up, bruises on your ass still stinging and cunt throbbing and you rub your thighs together, hands clawing into his slacks.

"Yeah, that's it -- get's you all fuckin' wet choking on my big cock like that, dunnit?", it does, has you sputtering around the thick base, spit running down your chin, wetting his trimmed pubes.

Holding your head in place Tangerine fucks into your mouth, groaning and moaning occassionally, watches your chin turning wet with spit, eyes wet with tears - your thighs rubbing together. The way he ruts into you has his bracelet and chain rustling.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ", he groans and you can feel his thighs clenching underneath your touch, the muscles underneath his waistcoat hardening and his cock twitching, pulsating on your tongue. You know he's close and you ready up for --

Suddenly, Tangerine pulls his dick from your mouth - has you gasping for air - and takes your hand, the one still firmly resting on his thigh. He holds it in his and then wraps it around his cock, your hand resting beneath his on his dick as he starts to jerk himself off with it. His hand is so much larger than yours, cold jewellery hard and heavy against your fingers, that wrap delicately around his hard cock.

"Keep your eyes open 'n look at me", he rasps, and you can feel his dick twitch in your hand as your gazes lock and then he moans, deep and feral - thick, hot ropes of white cum shoot out of his cock onto your cheeks. He strokes himself through his orgasm with your hand, sucks in a sharp breath as he paints your face white, marks you up.

Your eyelids flutter as you try your best to keep them open, his cum missing your eye by mere millimetres.

Tangerine groans as the last bit of cum lands on your face, goosebumps raising on his skin. His dick slowly goes flaccid after he sucks in a few breaths. Looking at you, he grins, licks his lips.

His free hand brushes through your hair, keeps the strands out of his cum, gently stroking your forehead. "Put m'cock away, will ya?"

You comply, kitten licks cleaning the few droplets of cum from the tip and then his hand lets go of yours, allows you to carefully put him back into his boxers, pulling the zipper back up.

Watching your blown-out dark eyes and puffy lips, he sucks in another deep breath, cheeks reddened a little and the colour spreads down down down his throat, tints his chest in a pretty pink beneath his chest hair, vanishes underneath his unbuttoned shirt. "Y'wanna cum, too, hm silly?"

And you nod, nod, nod.

"Atta girl, jus' a second - we should get ya cleaned up, shouldn't we?"

Tangerine's slender fingers run through his cum plastered on your cheek, scooping some of it up before tapping your lips. You open up obediently and he wastes no time pushing them in, feeding you his cum like it's cream. "There ya go, lick 'em clean", and you do, tongue swirling around his fingers, before he pulls them out and moves them across your face, collecting some more of his cum until he is pushing them back into your opened mouth, "Least that ya clean up well."

You can feel your cheeks turning red, the taste of them mingling with his cum and the remaining taste of sucking him off, has you moaning around his fingers. "Maybe I should fuckin' cum on everything I want'ya to tidy up? Would you like that, whore?"

Your eyelids flutter, nodding like you are fucking possessed. "Yeah, bet you love that. House would be fuckin' spotless. Bet I could fuckin' shoot a load on the floor and you'd lick it up, huh?"

You hum around his fingers and his lips tilt up. "And what would you say then, hm?", his clean fingers, sticky with your saliva, slip from your mouth.

"T-thank you for keeping me busy", you croak.

"So ya do have manners after all", he mocks, looking genuinely amused and gives your cheek a light pat, rings connecting with your sticky skin, "Alright, get back on the bed. I ain't fuckin' done wit'ya."

Tangerine gets up, grabs your hand, and helps you back on your feet, watches your naked form as you crawl onto the mattress. He is still fully dressed and your whole fucking body tingles as you catch him staring, eyes roaming over your flushed backside, your plush and aching cunt resting firmly and exposed between your thighs as you kneel on all fours before rolling on your stomach. You bite your lower lip and - deciding to make a show out of it for him, to finally, finally get what you want and need - you stretch one leg out delicately, arching your back a little.

Tangerine huffs. You look so fucked-out, used, with your swollen lips and dark, lustful eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair a mess, nipples hard and cunt all puffy. But you can't help it - you feel like you're on fire, hands darting out for leverage as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him.

He kneels between your spread legs, the mattress dipping a little and his hands run over your thighs. You hum, gaze flicking over his strong arms, as one of his hands brushes higher, over your hip and waist, cups your tit and squeezes your nipple.

"Back to actin' like the whore you are, eh?", you squirm as he toys with your nipple, pleasure shooting through your body, fresh wetness pooling between your legs. His other hand brushes up your thigh and his fingers quickly dip between your legs, running through your slick. "C'mon, spread your legs f'me", following his command your knees fall to the side, giving his gaze way to your wet and aching cunt.

Tangerine licks his lips, giving your tit one last squeeze before running down your body, spreading your folds apart with both hands.

"Jesus Christ, you just have the prettiest cunt, don't ya?", Tangerine's thumbs stroke your outer labia, pulling them apart while he watches your cunt throb, hole fluttering open, wanton for his attention. "Wouldn't want to fuck another one, 's perfect."

He grabs the pink bag that had been laying discarded on the mattress and ziiips it open, reaches inside. You stomach tingles as he pulls your favourite vibrator out of it, tosses a bottle of lube onto the sheets. It is slightly curved and has just the right girth and length to be sufficient; you love to fuck yourself with it when he is away, having him cooing pretty things into your ear over the phone while he jerks himself off to your sweet sounds.

Your breath hitches and you watch his every move, cunt aching for any sort of friction and the unspoken promise of being fucked by him with the toy has you going a little dizzy. It's not quite like being fucked by his dick, but it's strong and usually leaves you with shaky legs.

Tangerine's gaze flicks over your face and a smug grin dances across his lips, one hand running over your thigh. "Y'gonna let Daddy have some fun with your cunt?", he brushes the toy over your sensitive clit and the cool silicone has your hips bucking immediately, "Wanna see ya come, such a pretty thing." You roll your hips onto the cold and quickly dampening toy, the friction being nice enough to make you moan quietly.

"P-please", you whisper, "T-turn it on."

Tangerine lifts an eyebrow. "You gotta speak up, whore, don't act like you still got cock in ya mouth."

His command has you blushing, eyelids fluttering. "C-can you", you swallow, speaking up a little, voice shaky, "Can you please turn it on?"

He scoffs, one hand grabbing your thigh. "Oh, of course. Why didn't you say that earlier, hm?"

And then, his thumb presses down onto the little button, has the vibrator coming to life in an instant, presses the tip down on your clit.

"Oh my god", you gasp, throwing your head back, hands grabbing the sheets. "Jus' me, love", he grins, licks his lips and presses the toy flatly onto your cunt. The vibrations are running through your abdomen, and you moan lewdly, grinding against it.

Your cunt pulsates and your clit throbs against it, mouth falling agape - moaning and panting in rhythm with your hips rolling onto the toy.

"Look at my silly little whore", he grabs your chin roughly, his gaze boring into yours as you look at him heavy-lidded, mouth slightly agape. Tangerine runs the vibrator through your folds and you arch your back into it. Squeezing some lube onto your cunt he is running the toy through it, until he decides it's slick enough and pushes it into your hole with one rough, quick stroke. Your hips buck with the sudden intrusion, the way you can feel it vibrating inside of you has you moaning, throwing your head back.

Tangerine gives you no time to assess to the feeling as he starts to immediately fuck you with it fast, obscene sounds filling the air as he pushes the toy in and out of you.

You gasp loudly, closing your eyes and fisting the sheets below you. Incoherent, dumb little sounds escape your throat as you moan and gasp, lips parted a little. The stimulation quickly becomes a lot, nearly too much, has your head falling to the side and eyes darting open, watching how his hand shoves the toy in and out of you. It's also not enough, had your stomach tingling and loins feeling they are on fucking fire, a strong pulling sensation in your lower belly that makes you feel like you might go insane.

"Daddy", you plead uselessly, clenching around the toy, "'S not enough."

"Ah, you poor thing - too bad", Tangerine tilts his head a little, smiles at you meanly, "You'll take it."

His hand abandons your chin and runs over your chest, roughly cupping your tit and giving a light slap before running back up up up, over your throat and then grabbing your chin again. Your gazes meet and something dances over his, dark and dangerous and you know that he is holding back just a little. And you know, that you don't want him to. Do it you mouth and his eyes fall shut for a split second, before opening up again, dark navy hazy with lust.

Your brain goes all foggy and swims with anticipation, as his hand vanishes. It comes back down on your cheek with a loud smack, throws your head to the side.

You moan like you are some cheap whore out of some fucking porno - high-pitched and loud -, throwing your head back with your hands grabbing the sheets hard as your body rocks down on the vibrator.

Tangerine scoffs at you - watches the way your slick mixes with the lube and spreads around the pink shaft - makes his fingers all sticky with it - shakes his head a little. "Needy fuckin' thing."

It's all too much and your legs fall shut, knees pressing together as your body tries both: to flee the immense stimulation and to embrace it, drown itself in it. But Tangerine is having none of it, grabs your knee forcefully and spreads your legs back apart, grabs your thigh and holds it down onto the matress. You whine, chest heaving and body shaking, has your tits bounce with it - his eyes follow the movement hungrily.

"'S too much", you whine, throwing your head to the side, eyes falling shut. You feel like you're on fire, toes curling and eyes rolling back, your cunt all plush and plump and throbbing and so so ready to fucking cum already but you just can't, it's just not enough.

"You'll take what I fuckin' give ya", and your whole body rocks with it, the pent-up pleasure running rampant through your body and you pull one knee up, angling your leg, feeling the toy gliding in deeper. You moan desperately, eyes watching how it drills into you, hips and legs starting to shake.

Tangerine grins at you, tilts his head a little. "Oh", he pouts at you playfully, cocks an eyebrow while his eyes gleam down at you, "Does she wanna come? Does she, yeah?"

His tongue kisses his teeth as his thumb flicks over the button on the vibrator. The sudden increase of the vibration has you gasping loudly, a very vocal Oh leaving your lips, followed by a high-pitched moan. One of your hands darts out and grabs the pillow above your head, giving you some more leverage to thrust down onto the toy.

You can feel the vibration of the toy pulsing through your whole lower body and it has you gasping with it.

"Yeah, that's it, innit?", his thumb presses down on your clit, rubs small circles and it has you coming loose, finally, a near scream ripping from your throat, shaking, and rocking onto his thumb and the vibrator. You squirt, wetting his arms and wrists, jewellery shining with your juices and the sheets get sticky and wet with it. Tangerine whistles lowly, watches how you come undone in front of him - tits bouncing and cheeks flushed - moaning and gasping, the ecstasy has your face in a near angelic expression.

And it gets him so fucking hard.

He knows that you will be ready for him again in no time, edging you leaves you wet and horny even after an orgasm and he just has to feel you now.

Tossing the toy onto the mattress, he runs a finger through your hot and sticks folds, has you whining and squirming. He feels you up, asses your slick and teases your hole for a short while, until sweet sweet moans replace your whining, until he can feel your clit throbbing beneath his finger.

"C'mon", Tangerine unbuckles his belt, "My stupid little whore has another one in her, don't she? One more f'Daddy?"

You whine, knees falling apart like you are his personal fucking sex doll, hole clenching around nothing. Your hands run over your tits, squeezing them while you watch him getting undressed - shredding the waistcoat first, followed by his tie and shirt and then his pants - one of them wanders down down down your body, lazily circles your clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hard dick that springs free as he tosses his boxers away, curving against his abdomen, the taste of it still on your tongue and your head swims with it.

"Don't ya fuckin' touch yourself", he swats your hand away and leans in, spits onto your hot and plush cunt, thumb immediately rubbing over your sensitive clit. Your legs shake, hips bucking and it takes only a few strokes of his finger for you to squirt again, adding fresh wetness to the sticky sheets below you. "No one touches you like I do, eh?", and you shake your head, eyes tearing up a little with lust, "Mh, thought so - not even yourself. Always need me to get ya off nice and proper, don't ya?"

He's right. Whenever he is gone and allows you to touch yourself over the phone you do come, but it's nowhere as good, toe-curling and le-shaking as it is when his tongue and fingers are on your cunt, dick buried deep deep inside of you. And thus, you nod -Yes yes yes escaping your lips like a chant.

He is so much taller, so much stronger than you - could snap your neck in a blink of an eye, rip your throat out with bare hands - and it has your head swimming while you watch him stroking himself, tip of his hard dick flushed pink and your brain practically shuts down fully at the sight. It tips you over, has your mind enter a foggy state and limbs going slack as subspace embraces you.

"You like that? You like being my slut, don't ya?"

"Y-yes, Daddy -- l-love it", you moan sweetly and then he looks up at you, lips curling into a crude smile.

Stretching his hand out towards you, he tilts his head a little. "Spit then, slut", and you do, leaning forward and spitting into his hand. Some of your saliva runs down your chin and he scoffs at that, wets his dick with your spit. You watch how he spreads your saliva around the flushed skin and your lips fall agape, a soft moan crawling from your throat. Your legs spread further, hands running over your thighs - up up up - spreading the lips of your cunt apart.

His gaze flicks up, watches how you expose yourself to him, practically offering him your hole, stretching it out for him. "Jesus Christ", he huffs, feels his heartbeat picking up and then he grabs your ankle forcefully, pulls you closer. You barely have any time processing him manhandling you as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushes in with one strong stroke, buries himself fully in your pussy.

He grabs your hands and pulls them away from your folds, carelessly drops them at the sides of you body, holds your hips up by your waist - watches the way you split on his dick while you gasp and pant.

His cock is so much bigger than the toy, longer and thicker and you gasp as he pushes in. The way your hole stretches around him is delicious, slight pain igniting your loins. No matter how often you take his dick, you are never fully used to it - the dull pain increased by a tenfold with your overstimulated and plush cunt, welcoming his cock home. "Ssh, there ya go, take it all", Tangerine coos, and you moan as his cock pushes in all the way, rests between your walls, hot and pulsating.

"Such a tight fuckin' cunt", he hisses, as you squeeze around him, while he starts to move slowly inside of you. Tangerine watches your lower belly bulging a little with his large cock, sees where it is fucking into you through your skin. One of his hands hooks around your knee, lifts your leg up a little, the other one gently caresses the small bulge in your lower stomach, feels himself beneath your skin.

Tangerine starts to roll his hips faster, angles his thrusts deeper as he looks at you, brows furrowed a little, hand cupping your lower stomach. You whine and mewl with the agonizingly slow way he pushes his cock into you, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches your face slowly coming apart, eyelids fluttering while you watch him fucking into you.

"You feel so fuckin' good, takin' me so well, eh", Tangerine's thrusts speed up, and your body slightly rocks with it, your hips meeting his. Your head falls to the side and you loose yourself into the way he fucks you - losing all track of time, your body going a little numb, feeling nothing more than his cock inside of you, his hands on your body.

"You fucking slut - fuckin' made to only please me", and you hum, a little drool gathering in the corner of your mouth, slooowly creeping out and dropping onto the mattress. Tangerine's gaze follows it hungrily and his eyelids flutter, while you look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Shit", he huffs, hips bucking into your hole wildly, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into them hard.

You are so fucking pretty to him, all fucked-out with your body obedient to him and your mind buried deep deep in subspace and a part of him wishes you'd never come back - staying in this blissful and stupid state, chasing nothing but pleasure and waiting for him at home, on your knees and offering your waiting holes to him.

And Tangerine can't stop his mind from going there, conjuring up the delicious image of you bend over the kitchen table in nothing but a tiny apron, cunt stuffed with some fucking toy, waiting for him to come home and take you. And that's what he'd do, drenched and dripping in blood, would leave red stains all over your soft skin when he grabs you, pushes his dick into your hot cunt.

It makes him moan, head falling forward a little, a few strands of hair coming loose. He has to hear you say it, feels his balls tensing at the thought. His eyes dart up at you through hooded eyes and dark lashes.

"Who d'ya fuckin' belong to?", he growls.

"'M all yours, fuck fuck fuck", sweet sweet moans fall from your lips and it has him going fucking feral. Tangerine moans deep in his throat, wraps one arm around your waist and with all his strength pulls you up, rests you on his muscular thighs. His shins are resting on the mattress as he hammers you down onto his dick and it has you seeing stars, the way his body presses against you, cock pushing into your hole deeper and deeper.

Desperate for any sort of leverage your arms wrap around his neck, fingers clawing at his shoulders while you turn into puddy in his arms, as he lifts your hips up and bounces you on his dick, manhandles you while you fuck yourself with it. Your tits bounce against his firm and sweaty chest, his breath tingles on your throat.

"There ya go", he grunts as you roll your hips, toes curling with the way the thick head of his dick brushes over the spot that has you seeing stars. You moan and gasp, head falling back as you rock onto him, chasing your release.

"D-daddy", you pant, breath hitching in your throat, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes. It's all too much but not enough and you need him to say it - need him to tell you that it's alright, that you're allowed to come. "'M gonna cum, p-please, I-I -- y-you", you whine incoherently, looking down and watching how his cock drills into you, your juices wetting his pubes and abdomen, running down your thighs, sounds of naked skin slapping onto each other filling the air.

There's a heavy pull in your loins and you gasp loudly, sweetly, hips stuttering.

Small tears of pent-up arousal run down your cheeks and he cups your face with one hand, leans in and licks them away, tongue gliding over your cheeks. "Shh shh", he murmurs, his dark blue eyes prettily framed by long lashes as they transfix your fucked-out gaze, "I'll let ya cum, love - whenever ya want, jus' let go."

"C-can't", you stutter, goosebumps on your skin as you gasp, fingers entangling his dark locks that curl right above his shoulders and pulling on them lightly. And that, that gets him fucking going.

Tangerine moans loudly, his cock twitching deep inside of you. He grabs your chin roughly, holds your head in place. "You fuckin' slut", he growls and you can't help but to tug again, completely out of it and unaware that it might have consequences for you - you just need to feel his cock twitch inside of you again.

It does, has you moaning, lips falling agape. "Fuckin' behave", he growls and then, in a blink of an eye, his hand leaves your chin and connects with your cheek with a loud smack, throwing your head to the side. It tips you over.

You squirt heavily around his cock as you cum, milking him, while rocking down on it and spreading your slick, making it shoot up and wet his abdomen, skin glistening with it. His trimmed pubic hair rubs your overstimulated clit and you release more wetness, obscene squelching sounds filling the air.

Tangerine's cock pulses inside of you as he comes, too, shoots thick ropes of hot cum into your cunt that seem endless while filling you up. You squeeze around him and you feel so so full, his cum already pooling at the base of his dick, pushing out of you, and mingling with your creamy release.

He roughly pushes you back onto the mattress, hands grabbing your knees and then he is rutting into you with near inhuman strength, fucking both of you through your cojoined orgasms. Tangerine's cum squelches in and out of you and you cry out as waves of pleasure roll through your body, makes your limbs tremble and squirt shooting against his dick, wetting his pubic hair and abdomen like you're a broken hose. You can feel it run down your legs, dripping down onto the sheets.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you cry out, shaking wildly and then everything goes white - your own body feeling far far away. Your limbs feel so so heavy but you also feel light, like flying, not a single thought remaining as you feel your orgasm running through your veins, making you shake with it.

It takes a while for your body to snap back out of it, slowly drifting back into reality. The first thing you feel, is a warm body pressing against your back.

"Are y'lright, love?", Tangerine whispers, strong hands running over your arms, your sides, your hip. Your body feels so, so heavy as your mind is slowly coming back.

"Yeah", you croak, throat sore and voice raspy.

"Don't ya move, dove - I'll get ya cleaned up", you turn your head and blink at him, still a little out of it and he smiles at you, presses a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead, his stache tingling a little, "You did so good for me, didn't ya? 'M so proud of ya."

You nod lazily, your hand brushing over his strong forearm. "Thank you, babe", you whisper quietly, all worn out and tired, "I really needed that."

"Mh, you're welcome, love."

***

It's the faint smell of coffee in the air that carefully tickles you awake the next morning. Outside the opened window birds are chirping.

The first thing you notice is, that your legs hurt. The second thing is, that the other side of the bed is empty.

You call out your lover's name, his actual, real name but there's no answer. Groaning, you get up, legs heavy and sore from last night, and walk out of the bedroom. You can hear water running and follow the noise.

"Babe?", you peek through the half-opened door of the bathroom. There he is - in all his glory, with no shirt on - freckles dusted over his back like stars, scars and tattoos on full display, a cigarette dangling from his mouth while he is hunched over the sink. His hair curls over his shoulders, a little damp from what you assume must have been a recent shower. The air is still a little damp, despite the opened window. You can hear water splashing.

"Mornin'", Tangerine says, puffs out a cloud of smoke.

"No smoking indoors", you sigh, suppressing a yawn and he chuckles at that, deep in his throat.

"'M sorry, love, won't happen again."

"We both know it will", your hands brush over his shoulders and then you lean against him. You inhale his scent, feel his warmth against your palms. The muscles in his back and shoulder are working, flexing beneath the skin and you close your eyes, feeling the way his body works beneath you. He is oddly alive like this and you hope that he'll be home for a long time, won't leave again soon.

"Why are you up already?", you mumble against his firm back.

"Wanted to wash the stains out", and he sounds so, so annoyed by it, "But it's no use - it's either gonna be the dry-cleaner's or the bin, innit?"

[dullgecko]

One time Riz managed to have a gun in one Baron Nightmare™ and managed to shoot Baron in the face.

Now it's a nightmare, Baron can totally fix themself, but they are basically a porcelain doll so their face shattered immediately. So now Riz is screaming in pure horror because currently this creature formed from his self-consciousness is staggering toward him, their face now nothing but a giant jagged-edged hole that lead to pure inky abyss.

Baron is so taken aback by it that they can't even manage to properly scare Riz anymore than they already have. They basically pull a "What the fuck, Richard" before Riz is bolting up from his desk and throwing up on important case files.

Riz had activated his emergency text to Fabian in a panic before he was even completely awake, the rogue dropping his crystal back onto the desk when he realised what he'd done and pulling himself to his feet to at least try to clean up before the half elf inevitibly barged his way in. He usually tried not to eat before going to sleep, used to the nightmares and his own bodies reaction to extreme fear (it was a natural reaction, designed to dump excess weight so he could escape faster but BOY was it ever inconveniant when it was in response to something less than a creature trying to eat him) but sleep had crept up on him this time.

Riz made his way to the kitchenette, digging in his cleaning supplies for what he needed. He had a couple scrolls of prestidigitation that Adaine had given him, she had dozens leftover from her wizarding classes where they'd been taught how to make them, and used it to clean off his case files. He'd need a proper shower himself though so he stripped off his clothes, dumped them in a pile in the bathroom, and set about cleaning himself up. Even going so far as to brush his teeth to remove the lingering taste from his mouth.

He heard Fabian nearly bust the door of its hinges while he was pulling on a fresh shirt, the goblin trudging tiredly out of the bathroom when his name was called and flapping a hand at the paniced fighter.

"Sorry false alarm. Nightmare."

"What the fuck The Ball? You couldn't have sent a follow up text then?" Fabian crouched, checking the goblin over properly and wrinkling his nose at the fading smell of sick and bile still lingering in the room. "Eugh... are you ill?"

"Yes... No... just... very badly startled I guess." Riz rubbed at his face with his hands, taking a deep breath and leaning forwards to thunk his forehead against Fabians shoulder. He hadn't realised how tense he'd been since waking up until his friend placed a reassuring hand on his back, shoulders sagging as he finally relaxed.

"So no one is attacking?" Fabian rubbed up and down the goblins spine, still scanning the room over his shoulder just in case for a moment before putting down his sword so he could hug him with both arms.

"Ugh, only Baron and only in my head. Sorry for waking you up I know it's late."

"I wasn't really sleeping." Fabian lied, smoothing a hand down Riz's spine and continuing all the way along his tail to the tuft at the end. The goblins breath hitching slightly when he skirted over the point where the tail met his back but not saying anything else. "If you're still working I can stay a bit if you need me to. Your couch is plenty comfortable enough for me to sleep on... though if you're sleeping without meaning to you should probably also get a proper rest yourself."

"Yeah.... can you? I'm really tired but at least I don't get the nightmares if someone is around." Riz flicked his tail, going rigid when Fabian gripped him tighter and stood with him trapped against his front. The half elf flopping heavily onto the old yet still comfortable couch before releasing the rogue so he could make himself more comfortable. Riz snorting and skootching around to wedge himself between the back of the couch and Fabian side where it was most comfortable.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Fabian placed his hand on top of Riz's head, absently scratching behind one of his friends ears until he purred and relaxed completely. His other arm getting thrown over his face to block any light from hitting his eye as he tried to drift off to sleep himself.