#Age-Related Memory Issues
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every so often i am reminded that the people i work for are Very Rich. case in point: today my patient's wife was utterly BAFFLED why one of the other aides put a little water in the almost-empty bottle of soap. when i explained that they probably wanted to get the last few drops out, she was like "but why not just get more soap???"
it was so fucking disorienting to be faced with the knowledge that this ubiquitous little habit of daily life is completely alien to these people
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i've thought about this a lot but the only conclusion i've come to that kevin was probably 10 or younger when kayleigh died. if neil was 10 when they first met, then kevin was around 12. he already had the number on his face drawn with a marker, which would imply he had been there for a while. although the extra content says she's been gone for most of his life and he barely remembers her, so maybe he was even younger? it's heartbreaking either way :'(
yeah ;; I imagine he was pretty young to barely remember her at all which is just,, devastating. such an impact and little to no memory of her ;;
#I always write it a weeeee bit different cus I like him knowing just enough of her to be really affected by it#But yknow#Also I can never gauge what is the median normal for age related memory stuff because I have memory loss issues lmao#playing fast and loose with textbooks and other people's anecdotes lol#Aftg meta#Queen of my heart#Nana asks
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so đ about how Tessa has all these moments in internal monologue about how deep down sheâs always known Aunt Harriet making excuses for Nate wasnât right and that he didnât deserve all they both did to coddle him and that she always compartmentalized to see him as a good older brother, and how thatâs all come to the surface now she knows he was willing to sell her out (though not the full scope of that) but then when Mortmain comes she still instinctively doesnât tell Nate and goes instead âto protect himâ ugh. Like it feels so real as a depiction of a woman internalizing societal norms even though part of her is awareâŚ
#itâs so real you can have moments of recognizing patterns like that and then just.. repeat them even though youâre aware. I love this arc#Of hers. I think Nate on his own would be a pretty pathetic villain but the internal work for Tessa in relation to him supports the#Storyline/makes it compelling#S speaks#s rereads tid#tessa gray#(also feel like this is one of the reasons tid is so much more successful than tmi I could be wrong because it has been ages#But in my memory tmi stresses J*ce and his daddy issues re: Valentine sooo much and Claryâs narrative about him which would be more#interesting is barely ever touched on maybe like⌠two passing moments.#vs itâs a very consistent conflict for Tessa in the first two books)
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my grandma has mistaken two guys' wives for their mothers at her old folks home the women at this facility must fucking hate her
#grandma they're your age their moms are dead#it's an old folks home everyone's mom is dead#apparently at mealtimes there's always like four dudes who sit with her and now i understand why she doesn't have any female friends#''only the women look old'' grandma.......... if you weren't my grandma i would call you a mean name. the one they call you behind your bac#rum.txt#btw my grandma doesn't have severe dementia or anything she knows that she's in an old folks home and she knows her own age#she has some minor short-term memory issues#sometimes she thinks that she still has a job and she has a hard time with getting her grandchildren straight#(which. she has 14 not including in-laws/partners and four of them aren't blood-related so)#(TWO OF THEM HAVE THE SAME NAME. *i* have a hard time keeping my cousins straight lol)#but she should know that these women aren't their husbands' moms omg and she doesn't even seem to realize how mean that is to say fdjsljflg
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The biggest problem for me is that i relate too much to this mentally ill little asshole, especially w the loneliness and trust issues
#i relate to all the saddest and most mentally ill ppl on this story i cant anymore#i just dont want to be alone#its almost 4am ok im probably getting my period soon#u guys call this pms right? or smth like that idk#for us its tpm#im not ok#im def getting my period soon i haven't let myself feel this in ages#god i hate this sm#altho i also love it#its not a good thing i know its just.... smth i know#i know this thus it feels right#he did ruin me didnt he?#also the memory issues sometimes i cant remember basic shit my memory feels all messed up#i barely remember when or how things happened
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I hate that I have to give this PSA at all- that I do is a failure on the part of multiple governmental organizations. But it is important.
COVID damages a lot more than you think. It damages more than your lungs, and does more than give you digestive issues. And sometimes, those issues can last well after you get better, even if you're not a person you would otherwise think of as being sick with long COVID.
If you only remember these two things, please just remember that:
COVID can and does damage your heart.
COVID can and does damage your nervous system, particularly your brain.
If you have had COVID in the last 18 months, you are at a highly elevated risk of sudden cardiac death compared to someone who hasn't. In the first three weeks after getting sick, your odds of dying from a heart-related event are 81 times that of an uninfected person, and five times higher in the following 18 months. You are also at a higher risk of of developing nonfatal heart disease; 40% likelier. (Source for all claims in this paragraph)
If you develop ANY cardiac symptoms at all after getting COVID- heart palpitations, blood pressure issues, fatigue, fainting, getting out of breath easier than is normal for you- you need to see a doctor as soon as possible, and you need to tell them you've recently had COVID. You have long COVID until proven otherwise.
Similarly, your risk of neurological disorders remains heightened over a year after getting COVID; approximately 40% higher. (Source) This manifests in more ways than I have time to list, but includes a vastly higher risk of dementia of all types (doctors are particularly seeing this with the under-45 group that was previously extremely rare), memory disorders, sensory issues (like persisting loss or distortion of taste and smell), mental health issues like anxiety or depression, and even more.
These can manifest in a lot of ways. But if you experience new anxiety or depression, new behavioral issues (particularly for those under the age of 18), if you suddenly can't focus anymore or can't remember things anymore (ESPECIALLY words, COVID has been noted to cause extreme difficulty with word recall), if you have tremors, if you're tired all the time, if you have "brain fog", if you have trouble sleeping, I could go on... again. You have long COVID until proven otherwise. EVEN IF you aren't "that sick". Even if you have energy to do things and can mostly function but you just aren't doing well in school/at work anymore because you can't remember the things your teacher/professor is talking about/the new work protocols your boss went over with you.
If you hop over to the subreddits for teachers or professors, you will notice a lot of them noting their students don't remember basic things the teachers have been pressing for an entire semester, or that students can't sit long enough to focus through a movie. And sure, some of that is cell phones reducing attention span, or students just not paying attention- but they just can't seem to pick up the pieces there that they are seeing long-term sequelae (that is, a different illness arising from COVID infection) in their students. It is everywhere, but few people are connecting the dots.
Similarly, there is a huge wave of pilots being unable to pass their physicals and losing their licenses, or making mistakes due to brain fog (in some cases even leading to crashes) or falling victim to sudden cardiac death in the middle of a flight.
EVERYONE is at risk from this. No one is talking about this. I don't kn- well, actually, no, I do know exactly why, I just don't like it. People want to make COVID the new flu, but it just isn't. It is not and never will be the flu. And we are willingly inflicting cardiomyopathy and dementia and all sorts of awful things on people in the name of regaining a sense of normalcy that is gone, but ironically would be closer to returning if we had accepted for a while that things WEREN'T normal and acted accordingly. But that chance is gone now, COVID is never going away because people couldn't bother, but they still can't admit it, they can't face the consequences of their actions, so instead we're getting this attempted coverup of the real long-terms dangers of COVID that even "young and healthy" people have.
But pretending things are normal doesn't make sick people healthy. So instead, try to educate folks, because there is a very high chance you or someone you know is sick right now, due to COVID infections they had months ago, and doesn't know it because people are pretending COVID is just the flu but with tummy upset and a disrupted sense of taste/smell.
People NEED to know what the actual dangers are.
ALSO, sidenote: if you are masking, and ask your medical team to mask, and they respond by starting to suggest you are experiencing "COVID anxiety", find a new provider. Immediately. Don't even continue the appointment. They are not interested in helping you.
Signed, your friendly neighborhood epidemiologist.
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farming sim blogs i am begging
#stardust speaking !#muffy my no1 wife.............i want her n akira to talk about love cuz 1)cityfolks 2) akira is SO quick to mention those topics and its SO#funny but im also like. its been SO long since i had a muse who was that :] about romance. like the only clear memory. is mimi#and that was AGES ago#3) my personal akira relations hcs#me fighting the one vday line where akira speaks of their vday experience (basically none)#when i say fighting i mean fighting in making it work around it#the entire thing feels so weird like ive been gran no1 for SO many yrs. to write someone who doesnt have a issues regarding relations(hips)#is SO strange....#ive said this before havent i
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Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with themâŚÂ
Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.
. . .Â
After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.
You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part.Â
So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least.Â
But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect womanâ person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.
Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown.Â
It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.
And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.
âGod, Sy!â The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. âYouâre such a brute!â His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. âOof!â The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more.Â
âGon' fatten up your pretty lilâ pussy with my cum, babyâ Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. âWouldja like that, angel?â Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. âMe stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?â You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.
 âYesâ your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. âYes, please~â his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. âPlease fimme with your babies, Sy~â when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire.Â
âYeah, baby?â Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. âWanna make me a Daddy, yeah?â A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. âWant me to make you all round and heavy here?â Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.
âYes, please, Sy!â Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. âWanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!â His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him.Â
âAtta girl~â he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.
MASTERLIST
. . .Â
I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHATâ
#captain syverson#captain syverson fluff#captain syverson smut#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson fic#captain syverson x reader#captain syverson x ofc#captain syverson x you#captain sy x reader#sand castle#henry cavill characters#henry cavill superman#superman smut#clark kent smut#napoleon solo#august walker smut#geralt of rivia#walter marshall smut#henry cavill#henry cavill smut#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavil x reader
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Let's Talk About The Overlap Between Autism, ADHD, and Schizophrenia
I've been wanting to make a graph like this for awhile, about the overlap between these three disorders. Tagging @auschizm because it's highly related to that blog :D
Text transcribed below the cut because it's long!
Title: Can We Talk About The Overlap Between... AUTISM, ADHD, AND SCHIZOPHRENIA?
Description: You always hear people talking about AuDHD, but schizophrenia has the same if not more overlap with these disorders, and it's not talked about!
Let's start boosting schizophrenic people's voices. There's more to the disorder than just psychosis!
Graph based on my personal experience with schizophrenia, my experiences with autistic and ADHD communities, and the words of people with AuDHD themselves.
Made by @gray-gray-gray-gray on tumblr.
Schizophrenia Only
Typical age of onset between 15 and 54 years old
Before the onset/ first psychotic break, there is a "prodrome" where you have a drop in functioning
Reoccuring episodes of psychosis (Hallucinations, delusions, paranoia, etc)
Likely had less noticeable or covert symptoms pre-onset
Often daydreaming, 'in their own world', hyper-self-reflective, 'space cadet'
Autism Only
Need for familiarty & routine
Sudden disruptions to routine are highly distressing
ADHD Only
Craves new experiences & novelty
Autism & ADHD (AuDHD)
Interest-based nervous system (meaning attention & focus is activated based on personal interest, not how important something is)
Onset in very early childhood -- before age 12
Autism & Schizophrenia (Auschizm)
Self-soothing via repetitive behavior
Higher rates of catatonic symptoms
Social withdrawal or exclusion
Difficulties filtering speech
Flat affect
Alogia
Concrete and/or literal thinking
Higher rates of personality disorders, dissociative disorders, and trauma
Internally oriented behavior
Difficulties wording what they
want to say correctly & disorganized speech
Difficulties with insight into what is part of the disorder and what is neurotypial
ADHD & Schizophrenia (SchizoDHD)
Impulsivity & hard to sit still
Difficulties regulating attention & focus, also causing social cue difficulties
Difficulty keeping a daily routine
Jumping around or out of sequence speech
Forgetfulness
Failing to reach a clear end goal or point in speech
Less coherent progression from start to finish in stories
General difficulties with thinking clearly
Drawing blanks / losing train of thought often
Difficulties finding motivation to do things
Lots of energy some days, no energy other days
Troubles multitasking
Planning poorly or not at all
All Three
Stimming
Echolalia, echopraxia
Executive dysfunction
Sensory issues & overload
Emotional dysregulation
Interconnected/webbed thought
ND communication (infodumping, connecting ideas, shared interest bonding)
Increased risk of victimization
Hyperfixations
Higher rates of depression, anxiety, OCD, BFRBS, bipolar, suicidality, sleep issues, eating disorders, and substance abuse
Eye contact differences
Difficulties switching tasks
Masking
Hyperfocusing
Restlessness
Prone to boredom
Memory issues
Social situation difficulties
Time blindness
Difficulties with school, learning, and following tasks
Chronic disorder
RSD
Anhedonia
Alexithymia
Interoceptive difficulties
#actually neurodivergent#neurodivergent#nd#neurodivergence#neurospicy#neuropunk#autism#asd#autism spectrum disorder#actually autistic#autistic things#autistic experiences#adhd#actually adhd#adhd problems#adhd experience#audhd#actually schizophrenic#actually schizospec#schizophrenia#schizospec#schizospectrum#schizophrenia spectrum#auschizm#schizodhd
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Hello! Here are the new traits that I have been working on. I have made 15 new CAS TraitsÂ
How does this work?
Just like you would add any other CAS trait for your Sims. For reference, you can look at the photo and these are all the traits you would find in the game. These are compatible with all of my other previous traits.
Depending on what trait you use sims with the traits or sims around the sim with these traits can have certain reactions. It's just like how the traits work in general.Â
Gamer: These Sims gain significant happiness and stress relief from playing video games, may become tense if they haven't gamed for a while, and excel in tech-related careers.
Romantic Idealist: These Sims dream of grand romantic gestures and true love, often getting mood boosts from romantic interactions but may become sad if their love life doesn't meet their lofty expectations.
Cuddle Bug: These Sims love giving and receiving hugs, gaining positive moodlets from cuddling with loved ones and pets.
Fairy-Tale Fanatic: These Sims are obsessed with fairy tales, feeling happy when reading or discussing them and often aspire to live out their own fairy-tale romance or adventure.
Baker: These Sims find joy and comfort in baking, experiencing mood improvements when making and eating baked goods.
Memory Keeper: These Sims cherish memories more than most, often reminiscing about past events, which can significantly affect their mood.
Vintage Lover: These Sims have a passion for all things vintage, gaining happiness from wearing vintage clothes and decorating their homes with retro items.
Home Chef: These Sims love cooking at home and experimenting with recipes, gaining positive moodlets from cooking meals for others.
Body Conscious: These Sims are often critical of their body, frequently feeling insecure and may seek validation or comfort from others regarding their appearance.
Love-Struck: These Sims easily fall in love, often feeling elated in romantic relationships but may experience deeper sadness from breakups.
Monogamous: These Sims prefer deep, committed relationships, gaining substantial mood boosts from stable relationships but may feel insecure with casual romances.
Heartbreaker: These Sims find it easy to start and end relationships, gaining confidence from romantic conquests but potentially leaving a trail of broken hearts.
Natural Beauty: These Sims are confident in their natural appearance, often receiving compliments and feeling happy without makeup or styling.
Elegantly Aged: These Sims age gracefully, often receiving compliments on their mature beauty and feeling confident in later life stages.
Body Positive: These Sims love their body in all its forms, often inspiring others to feel the same and rarely feeling insecure about their physique.
Hairstyle Hobbyist: These Sims love experimenting with their hair, feeling happiest and most confident after a visit to the salon or trying a new hairstyle at home.
Unkempt: These Sims don't prioritize grooming, often feeling indifferent to their messy appearance but may occasionally feel embarrassed in social situations.
Age Insecure: These Sims struggle with aging, often feeling sad or anxious about getting older and may seek rejuvenation through various means.
What else do I need for the mod?
The Mood Pack (If your UI disappears or there are UI issues after you play an animation with a mod it is because the Mood Pack isn't properly installed or installed at all. Please make sure you make note of this.)
Does this mod require any DLC?
The mod is BGC. The traits do tap into each pack so having them will create a more full experience. Not required though.
Questions and concerns you might have?
If you have one send it here: Trait Requests
Report it here: Mod Bug Report
How to install the mod?
You can choose to download whichever trait you want from the downloads below OR you can download the zip file "Maplebell More CAS Traits #3" If there are also traits you do not want then you can delete them from the folder.
Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/Mods <--- Unzip the file and make sure it's placed in this path.
Download Here
Public: March 21
#the sims 4 cc#ts4cc#the sims 4#ts4 mods#ts4#the sims 4 mods#ts4 cc#the sims#simblr#sims 4 edit#the sims cc#ts4 download#ts4 mod#sims 4 mods#thesims4
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Thinkin' about the mentality of Bill within the Mr Bill Pines au.
Bill wanted the universe to provide further distractions. A nonstop chaotic party central where he doesn't have to think about his obvious repressed genocide related trauma/regrets regarding the whole "oops I genocide my entire society" thing. For him to give that up, it makes me think he saw Ford as a fair trade off for it. Even if only temporary. Ford already makes him feel like he rules the universe so maybe the actual one could wait. Even if their relationship is seemingly all sweet n fluff, that's part of the issue. There probably wouldn't be proper communication. Just Bill dodging any attempts at serious discussion and still, even if he cares about Ford, treats him like a pet where he trades providing him with a happy, idealized and spoiled life for companionship.
GOSH- You explaining my bill so well , my bill flaw with his feeling is quite giving him big insecurity , he hate the feeling ford gave to him the first time they met it's sicken him how he found someone he can related too and be weak because of it. He even consider to stop meeting ford and just find other scientist but still attach to him later, he always trying to ignore his sin put it far back on his mind, And if ford ever found out about it what he did to his Dimension he just think he just need to erase the memory of it, he can't bare to lose another person he loved because of him, even he will not giving ford a chance to talk about it. And yeah He grow fond with other pines too! he feel he finally have family and home to came home too but slowly looking at ford aging make him having a second thoughts
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You know what the advantage is of taking an entire year to make this? Having it done for The Sims 2's 20th birthday â and, in 5 months, The Sims's 25th!
(ReShade off on the right.)
@philosimy's marvelous Old Town neighbourhood provided the base and the inspiration, and you should go put some respect on their hard work before you download this. It might even be what you came here looking for in the first place!
Their post has all the info you'll need about the SC4 terrain this neighbourhood was built on, and a list of the CC you'll need to use it:
Numenor: Maxis âLost & Foundâ #9: Waterfall & River
Criquette:
Lush (Temperate) Road DR & Neighborhood Road Transparency Fix
Road bridges set
Ultimate railway set
Haut-gothique: Age of Empires 3 conversions - part 1
Psychosims: Maxis Lost & Found - Plesiosaur
The good news is that that's all the CC you'll need to use the version with built lots. The bad news is that you'll need Ultimate Collection or all EPs and SPs to make everything work the way it was made. The even worse news is that it can't be perfectly 1:1 or as-is functional, but every lot is as close as I could get to how they appear in The Sims 1 Complete Collection. Basically, do a pass with your own CC and you'll make it nice.
DOWNLOAD (SFS)
To install:
Check your Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2\Neighborhoods folder to ensure it does not already contain a folder called âB407.â If it does, you will have to delete that neighbourhood to make room for this one.
Download and unpack OldTown2.rar.
Place the folder inside (named âB407â) in your Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2\Neighborhoods folder.
Start your game and play.
None of the lots in this neighbourhood have been so much as touched by a Sim to reduce game-breaking issues. It is free of the Super Duper Hug Bug. The neighbourhood itself contains no parts that will break your game. Unfortunately, it does include the default Townies, as the original did, and @creesims found memory issues among them. Some decorations may not appear in your game as advertised in this post, depending on your mix of default replacements and object fixes.
If you're only looking for individual lots, they're in the same SimFileShare folder as the neighbourhood and are 100% CC-free. I'll be making posts with caps and details for each one. I won't be making TS1 Sims to go in them, though; many others have done a better job than I could. Have fun finding or making your own.
So, not a perfect conversion. This is partially due to the self-imposed no-CC requirement, and partially due to the very nature of the differences between Sims 1 and 2. If you have an intuition of how Sims 1 looks, you'll notice:
Spiral stairs in odd positions and longer linear stairs.
A lack of curved stairs.
Wide blank spaces between the contents of a beach lot and its shoreline.
Different distances between buildings on a lot or between a building and the edge of a lot.
Differently-shaped shorelines and bodies of water.
Different terrain shapes and paints.
Fences that occupy the edge of a tile rather than the tile itself.
I can't change the above because they are foundational differences between the two games. The below, however, are stylistic choices that you should absolutely trash and redo with your own game:
Foundations and decks replacing floors.
Incongruous build and buy items.
Empty shopping and game space in community lots.
Mod-Related Notes:
The only mod compatibility issue will be with road default replacements. This hood requires Criquette's to work (see CC list above).
Voeille's Seawater: lots with or near water need a pool tile or two added to work properly.
Some community lots contain career reward objects or similar hidden items. You do not need any CC for these to appear on the lots.
However, in order for lot visitors to use the microphones, you'll need lamare's community lot mic fix.
If you know of a collection of 1t2 CC, I'd love to link it here.
Individual Lot Posts:
The Sims
2 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-09-21)
3 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-09-28)
5 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-10-05)
6 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-10-12)
7 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-10-19)
10 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-10-26)
Livin' Large
1 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-11-02)
7 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-11-09)
9 Sim Lane (SFS, 2024-11-16)
Hot Date
Hedman's Hideaway, 21 Wright Way (SFS, 2024-11-23)
Cory's Place, 22 Wright Way (SFS, 2024-11-30)
Wrensday's, 24 Wright Way (SFS, 2024-12-07)
Solana Towne Centre, 25 Main Street (SFS, 2024-12-14)
Landgraab Mall, 26 Main Street (SFS, 2024-12-21)
Old Farm Square, 27 Main Street (SFS, 2024-12-28)
Barrett's Boardwalk, 28 Main Street (SFS, 2025-01-04)
SimCity Beach, 29 Main Street (SFS, 2025-01-11)
Crumplebottom Memorial Park, 30 Main Street (SFS, 2025-01-18)
Vacation
Alpine Preserve, 40 Old Volcano Way (SFS, 2025-01-25)
Penguin Acres Campground, 41 Old Volcano Way (SFS, 2025-02-01)
Al Pine's Winter Wonderland, 42 Old Volcano Way (SFS, 2025-02-08)
Bear Essentials Lodge, 43 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-02-15)
Ranger's Ranch Campground, 44 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-02-22)
Wren's Fens National Park, 45 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-03-01)
Reclaimed Public Beach, 46 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-03-08)
Sunset Beach, 47 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-03-15)
Palazzo Palms Hotel, 48 Lagoon Moon Road (SFS, 2025-03-22)
Unleashed
The Blackpoint Cottage, 53 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-03-29)
The Walden Estate, 54 Ridge Road (SFS, 2025-04-05)
The Porte Rouge Villa, 55 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-04-12)
56 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-04-19)
The Somerset Home, 57 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-04-26)
SimCentral Park, 58 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-05-03)
The Sunflower Home, 59 Ingleside Drive (SFS, 2025-05-10)
The Meadowlark Home, 60 Happy Trail (SFS, 2025-05-17)
Custer's Market, 61 Happy Trail (SFS, 2025-05-24)
The Oak Villa, 62 Old Farm Circle (SFS, 2025-05-31)
63 Gunter Goth Highway (SFS, 2025-06-07)
The Morris Cottage, 64 Gunter Goth Highway (SFS, 2025-06-14)
The Appleview Farm, 66 Gunter Goth Highway (SFS, 2025-06-21)
The Vanilla Home, 68 First Avenue (SFS, 2025-06-28)
The Charming Family, 69 First Avenue (SFS, 2025-07-05)
Pet Paradise!, 70 Elm Street (SFS, 2025-07-12)
Old Town Quarter, 71 Elm Street (SFS, 2025-07-19)
Sidewalk Walkabout, 72 Elm Street (SFS, 2025-04-01)
McArthur Square, 73 Elm Street (SFS, 2025-07-26)
Lake Barrett, 74 Maple Street (SFS, 2025-08-02)
The Gothic Quarter, 75 Maple Street (SFS, 2025-08-09)
76 Gunter Goth Highway (SFS, 2025-08-16)
77 Maple Street (SFS, 2025-08-23)
The Courtyard Villa, 78 Maple Street (SFS, 2025-08-30)
The Mango Manor, 80 Crumplebottom Court (SFS, 2025-09-06)
Superstar
KWLW Studios, 81 Sunrise Boulevard (SFS, 2025-09-13)
Fairchild Film Studios, 82 Sunrise Boulevard (SFS, 2025-09-20)
Meeker Studios, 83 Sunrise Boulevard (SFS, 2025-09-27)
Midlock Multiplex, 84 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-10-04)
Studio Town Center, 85 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-10-11)
Buckingham Galleries, 86 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-10-18)
Music for the Eyes Inc., 87 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-10-25)
Cameron's Lounge, 88 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-11-01)
The Gast District, 89 Studio Town Drive (SFS, 2025-11-08)
Makin' Magic
EverAfter Oaks, 90 Creepy Hollow (SFS, 2025-11-15)
Alfred's B & B, 91 Creepy Hollow (SFS, 2025-11-22)
Old Man Lum's, 92 Creepy Hollow (SFS, 2025-11-29)
A Spooktacular Spot, 93 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2025-12-06)
Vernon's Vault, 94 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2025-12-13)
Coldwind Meadow, 95 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2025-12-20)
Clowntastic Land, 96 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2025-12-27)
Serra Glen, 97 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2026-01-03)
Forest Edge Camp, 98 Calamity Forest (SFS, 2026-01-10)
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ghost headcanons! (realistic)
tw: nsfw, spoilers, dead dove do not eat
a lot of these are based off of my personal understanding of him
part 2 â> character analysis of ghost
general:
didnât go back to manchester after his family died, too many foul memoriesâa lot of friends will probably know him as a murderer (comic reference, ghost was accused of killing his family in the newspaper)
has a fit body. a lot of people like to hc him as big and bulky, i think otherwise! its actually a huge disadvantage to be bulky in size as a soldier (logistics while fighting yk). most SAS soldiers are trained for endurance and fitness, i think he has a moreso lean body
hes not cold and ruthless, wouldnât say hes a big softie either.
VERYYYY punctual. always on time
will not abuse or rape anyone. this guys been through atrocities, he would never do it to someone else
wonât hire a prostitute, ever.
honestly, hes just another dude in the military. he loves dad jokes and bourbonđ
ghost doesnât think hes mean or tries to be, he simply is intimidating because of his size and way of talking
he likes watching soccer in his free time
gets internally offended if someone thinks hes from london (anywhere but Manchester)
very dark humoured. tell him any dark joke and he wouldnât care
loves tea
listens to older british bands, like the smiths
cannot understand modern slang at all. what does âiykykâ and ârizzlerâ mean???
texts like a typical millennial. uses âđâ and âđâ unironically. types with proper grammar and spelling with punctuation too, maybe an occasional LOL
also unironically likes posts about trust issues and being a sigma male. he doesnât actually think hes one, he just relates to those quotes that are like: âbeing alone is better than with fakesâ đđđđ
ghost probably hates other men more than misandrists đ i think its bc hes always fighting other men and dealing with the cruel things theyve done, so ghost subconsciously feels more on guard with men he doesnt know
has insomnia
doesnât cry. ghost doesnât remember the last time he cried.
isnât rich rich, but has a ton of savings. he doesnât have a family or spend a lot. so the money piles up.
relationship hcs:
first off, i dont think heâd realistically get into one anyway LMAO
s/o would have to the chasing, i dont think ghost is the kind to actively pursue someone
he has charisma, doesnât feel like using it
hes very against the idea at firstâhis family got murdered because he was in the military, you think hes gonna let it happen again?
probably will not like someone working with him as a soldier
i think itd go two ways: a) you are a civilian who aggressively pursues the poor guy and he gives in, b) you work as a military nurse and gradually get to know him, c) you are a longtime close friend of his before he was in the military
i cant see him being fwb with anyone, only one night stands
hes not a toxic partner or super lovey dovey
ghost doesnât entertain multiple women at once
itd most likely end up in a breakup where he fears for your safety:(((
BUT lets ignore that
tbh, i think he would probably be with someone very empathetic and kind to others. he doesnât like people overly energetic, too soft, or someone that annoys him
persons gotta be independent and good with long distance
simon doesnât care about age gaps, but probably wants someone at least in their late twenties
had a hard time opening up, eventually told you everything once he trusts you
another reason why i think he wants someone empathetic is because he has severe trust issuesđđ
last thing heâd care about is looks for long term relationships
the type of guy to disappear for 6 months and reappear to be like âremember im your husband???âđŤĄ
doesnât let you tell your friends about himâNo hes not being uncommitted or toxic, but hes simply being cautious after what happened to his family
you canât show anyone photos of him, his name, his occupation, NOTHHINGGG
so you fake a name for your bf who your friends think youâre lying about
definitely does not let you post on social media about him either.
installs security in your home, teaches you self defense, and gives you weapons. this guy can be paranoid
will never hit you or lay a hand on you
ghost genuinely thinks you saved himâhis life was bleak and empty before you came in. subconsciously thinks of you as a savior
he buys you gifts, does chores for you, he really likes you :(
ghost actively tries to make his voice sound softer and friendlier when hes talking to you
doesnt understand playing mind games, things like the silent treatment or âim okâ when ur not ok thing. just tell him how you feel
doesnât tell his team about your existence. you and his job are always going to be separate.
avoids talking about what he does in the military. ghost has killed and injured many and he doesnât want you to see that side of him.
scary dog privileges for SURE
#call of duty x reader#call of duty#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#simon riley#tf 141 x reader#cod mw2#cod
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I Was Never There.
Death Island Leon x Reader
Real!Dad Leon
Dead dove warning.
13k word count. Proof read 3 times until I got to around 11k then I stopped worrying and just skimmed. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.
Iâd like to appear in the tagz pls so hereâs a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing f*cked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- donât be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.
Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, daddy-issues, age-gap, overall disturbing topics.
As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, mentions of oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, any probably some other irrelevant shit Iâm forgetting my b.
PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, itâs a long one.
The drive from your college town to where your home had been all your life was as expected. Nostalgia and homesickness being mixed in your gut like a can of paint in one of those weird machines at the hardware store that your dad would take you to. Speaking of dad, you hardly remember him. He was present for a short while, your mom always excusing his absence with work this and work that. He really did get busy, though. Almost dying several times. You still remember your moms panicked phone calls, her countless prescription drugs for the same problems you now suffer from, and her late-night bathroom breakdowns. Apparently he couldnât get out of this job though. Some real fucked up government shit he was tied to, your mom explained. All you know about him is that he saved the presidentâs daughter. Whatever.
So yeah- a perfect life with a perfect set of parents. One being mentally driven through the dirt and the other that you havenât seen in 8 years or maybe more. You canât seem to remember if the last few times you saw your dad were daisied dreams or reality. Bastard has never FaceTimed or video called you, either. Dunno if he even had a phone capable of that. Either way, it must be for the better, because your grades had been sufficient without stressors on your mind. And we all know a low-effort dad would definitely be one. But perhaps heâd rather just be there in person. Older people are like that.
You grunted, trying to drag your over-packed suitcase up the steep suburban driveway before sighing and standing in place. Sure, you didnât need to bring so much shit home, but would you really want to risk some bitch at college stealing anything from your quad-dorm?
Before you could think and figure out how youâd even get the plastic luggage up the pristine, hand-painted porch steps and inside (without scratching them up and having your parents on your ass about their perfect house having a flaw) a voice called out to you. Unrecognized and not ringing any of the bells in your head. (If there were any left)
âHey there, sweetheart. Itâs been a while, huh?â
You turned to see a middle-aged man, similar to the last memory of your dad that had been printing-pressed into your mind for safe keeping. He was just emerging from the front door, broad chest accentuated by a well-fitted T-shirt. You immediately felt angry that his tits were bigger than yours. Would probably look better with a bra, too.
You didnât answer.
Fuck- nerves were getting the better of you. Your palms were slick with sweat and you didnât know if it was from the building summer humidity or anxiety. Was this normal? No the fuck it wasnât.
âUhh.. dad?â You queried- almost certain the gorgeous man at the door was just a hotter, older version of your dad and not actually him. The fuck is wrong with you? Youâre getting this worked up over your father? Did college drinking really rewire your brain to be this fucked or is it all of the anxiety meds? Maybe both. Maybe youâre just overwhelmed. Maybe itâs because you rarely saw him and have zero attachment.
âYeah, itâs me. Your old man. Missed you, kiddo.â Thereâs a pause for a moment- because youâre not sure why heâs talking so casually as if you see each other every weekend- like it hasnât been years and years since youâve seen him.
âDonât remember me,huh?â He laughs satirically- like youâre supposed to be so sure. It makes you slightly furious and the feeling of anger bubbles up again- replacing any strange thoughts you were having moments ago.
No, my apologies dearest dad. I totally recognize you despite having met you enough times to count on almost two hands.
But the better part of you that managed to exist underneath the scores of problems you had just replied in jest- like someone without said scores of problems. It was best to keep the peace for now.
âYou look a little different⌠sorry.â Is that all you can manage? Itâs pitiful the state that your sullied mind is in.
He chuckles, though, like he knows yourâre right. The sound is more pleasant and striking when itâs genuine. Makes you feel damp in other areas than just your armpits (thank you, heatwave).
âI suppose thereâs truth to that. But Itâs alright, sweetheart. I know itâs been a long time. People change, right?â His eyes scan you in an undecided way.
âBut you, shit. Youâve grown into such a beautiful woman. College treating you well?â His words sound a little huffed then, heâs clearly beating around the bigger issue with a stick. But him calling you beautiful and being all fucking sappy makes your face feel hot and sticky like itâll melt off. Got you wanting to rip the hair from your scalp to hear him say it again.
âPlease?â You called out gently- gesturing to the suitcase and ignoring any other question. You were very much overstimulated- having overexerted muscles in your arms by being a weak bitch about a crammed carry-on. Just get your ass out here and help your daughter, thanks.
He shook his head- again laughing hotly while looking down as he stepped off the porch- his brown bangs were peppered with greys and they brushed his face on one side, his hair somehow pornographic on its own. Christ. He looked like one of those men you saw on Viagra commercials that obviously didnât actually need it. Even the sight of your perfectly trimmed lawn and faux-looking home completed the scene. Where was the camera?
He walked over to you- there was a slight stiff in his stride; like he had a bad back or something. Maybe he did. Almost dying was the likely cause for that. Serves him right for leaving you with issues on top of issues. Maybe you should stop being mean, youâre the one getting hot over your own father. Again- because of him. Circle back to square one.
Leon towered over your frame as he hinged at the hips, picking up the suitcase with ease- the muscles in his arm flexed with each small movement. His face was a tinge of smug with a mix of something elseâŚsatisfaction? Maybe he was just pleased he was able to lift it without rupturing a hernia. Jesus Christ, his veins. You wonder if he has them anywhere else. No- maybe you should be wondering about taking your ass to an inpatient facility immediately. A few screws are loose and you donât exactly have the tools to tighten them.
âI guess college did treat you well. Youâre here in one piece.â He says- cutting you thickly from your thoughts and answering his own question from earlier. His blue eyes are sweet and gently lined with signs of aging. Which only makes him hotter- just like the fiery pits of hell that await you.
You scoff.
âWell, itâs not like I went to war or something.â
âStill. Itâs nice to see you, sweetheart.â The word rolls off his tongue again. Your insides are trapezing around in their own miniature, fleshy circus- youâre wishing you could stab yourself in the stomach to stop the swarm of butterflies that donât even feel metaphorical anymore. Youâre sure theyâre real now.
He continues, though.
âI know I havenât been around much in your life- this fucking job and-â You stare up at him- glossy doe-eyes and stupid look on your face. An apology- or even an explanation from your daddy might be part of what your scrambled brain needs.
âWork kept me away, but that doesnât mean I didnât think about you every day. Iâm sorry if I wasnât there for you like I should have been. Shit⌠What I mean to say, is- things will be different. Iâve retired. Your mother wanted me to tell you over dinner later but I figured youâd be happy to know. Iâm not the best at keeping secrets.â He jokes at the end, but how is that true in the slightest? Heâs kept his job a secret for your entire life, so he clearly canât be that horrible at it.
âOh.â Leaves your lips quietly, ghosting over Leon and leaving him wondering if he said something wrong. But then he realizes itâs probably just overwhelming for you. The worst part of him thinks you hate him. A feeling overcomes you though, and you rush in to wrap your arms around his waist- hugging him tightly. You now wonder why he didnât hug you to begin with. Maybe he wasnât an affectionate guy.
He says nothing at first- heâs even more awkward than you are if itâs possible. But heâs trying. He sets down your suitcase before returning your hold. One arm comes around the back of you and the other is overlapped on top- a hand nestling on the back of your head. Seems heâs getting a bit emotional, too. The attention from him is nice, though.
When you make a small grunt as to wanting to end the hug, his hands linger on your shoulders and he smiles at you. You actually return to, not feeling anything horrid become of your thoughts right now. Whether it be anger or incestual lust.
â
Your dad pushes the front door open with one of his large hands encased on the knob. Hands you immediately find attractive, wondering if theyâd feel nice scissoring your cunt open. You now begin to understand why your mom was getting suicidal over him possibly not returning home. Youâd kill yourself over him too. But thatâs too morbid- especially after the moment you just shared.
Thatâs already lost to you.
He shut the door firmly, sighing, then gestures to the stairs.
You went up first, self conscious about your backside being right in front of his view but he was your dad. Wouldnât be looking at you that way. Youâre just brain-rotted and have an ill opinion of men.
Your old bedroom still looked the same, basically. Just emptier and more hollow without your things. But the walls were still painted a babydoll-pink and lined with the few girlish decorations you left on the wall. No way you would have been caught dead with those in your dorm. Not unless you wanted to endure torment and bullying thatâd lead you to jumping off the dormitory roof.
He sets your luggage down and takes a seat on your bed. A groan escapes him as he puts a hand on his lower back for a moment.
âI see this room hasnât changed much, has it?â he muses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âYour mom and I had a blast putting it together for you when she was pregnant.â
Yikes. You almost feel guilt for both the incestuous thoughts and the fact you may have ruined your parents' marriage. Maybe thatâs not true. It was his work- not you. After all, heâs insinuating how happy they were to have you brought into this world. Plus- they were fine. Never argued or anything.
��Iâm sorry. I dont- I donât know what to say.â You laughed awkwardly, throwing your hands slightly up by your side.
His face doesnât drop, though. It seems he understands perfectly fine.
âItâs okay. We can start from scratch. Not talk about⌠your room or childhood stuff. I know itâs a sore spot for you, sweetheart.â
Wrong. Itâs more like a festering wound with the rusted knife still wedged in it. The knife being Leon and the wound your daddy issues, by the way. And having no attachment to him as a father figure makes the attraction worse. Notably when he calls you any term of endearment. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
What the fuck. Was he sculpted by Satan himself as some kind of hell-on-earth punishment? Is this purgatory? Everything he did now was driving you up the wall like a roach- every movement and small flex showing a vein or bulge of muscle. And his arm hair didnât help. Fucking Christ- shave it off or something. You donât know how youâll be able to stand it.
âOkayâŚ. How does that work?â You cocked your head to the side a little, shifting your weight onto one leg. A nervous habit.
âWell- what do most parents do with their kids? We could go out for dinner, catch a movie, just⌠hang out. Iâd like to spend time with my daughter, you know.â
Okay, so maybe he did care. Thatâs a start.
âUh⌠all three?â You questioned, an eyebrow lifting along with the infliction of your voice towards the end of your sentence. Youâre indecisive like your mom.
He smiled, lines and the corners of his mouth pressed. Happy. Something you heard wasnât common for him, anyways.
âOf course. We can go out tomorrow, honey. Your mom just wants us to all have dinner together when she gets home. She missed you- not as much as I did, I bet.â He does that stupid fucking wink again. It makes you switch emotions and want to throw something at his head. Maybe your lamp. You feel bad, Itâs not his fault youâre acting like a mental freak about him. You donât even bother to fixate on the fact youâll have to have dinner with your cunt of a mom. Okay, maybe thatâs harsh.
âOkay.â You breathe out, looking around your room. Leon takes that as a cue to stand up from your old bed- the thing creaking from his weight and leaving an indent on your comforter.
âItâs a date, then. Iâm going to start dinner. As much as I love your mother, she can beâŚscary.â He says, still rocking that pressed-in-cheek smile and cracking your door closed behind him. By the way, what he really meant was probably âbitchyâ- not scary. But dad seems too kind to say that. He loves your mom.
You can breathe again without his presence. It was smothering, like you had to overperform. You find yourself rushing to your dresser mirror to check how you looked. Hair looks great, face too- though a little tired from college over-studying and then driving 4 hours home with no break.
You might as well write âwhoreâ on your mirror with lipstick. Or a marker- since thatâs a more permanent reminder with the way youâre acting. But part of you wanted to know what he thought of you- how he perceived you. For now though, it doesnât matter. Had barely been 15 minutes since you arrived. You turn your attention to your suitcase and push it over flat, unzipping it before the teeth give out and some of your things spill from inside.
You had less than a sufficient amount of energy to care about it being broken now- so you just put your things away quickly before plopping onto the bed and indulging your senses with the smell of the floral detergent your mom always used on your sheets.
â
Itâs some time later when youâre abruptly awoken by your moms manicured hand shaking you awake by the shoulder.
âI canât believe youâre sleeping when you could be spending time with your father. He was excited for you to be home.â
âWay to wake me up.â You thought. She was always having a stick up her ass about this kind of thing. Or anything, really..
âI didnât mean to fall asleep. Besides, weâre going out tomorrow to do a bunch of stuff.â You argue sleepily, sitting up as your back aches with your vision still adjusting. She cuts on the lamp, sizzling your retinas.
Her face perks up but is pleasantly surprised.
âOh, okay..â silence.
âIâm sorry, honey. It was just a long day at work and Iâm just over-the-moon for you two to finally have some daddy-daughter time.â
You wrinkle your face in disgust, but not fully disgust since you were just fawning over your hot dad earlier. Maybe daddy doesnât sound so bad.
âEw- mom. Heâs just my dad. Iâm not five.â She laughs, waving her hand off at you.
âWell anyhow- come down for dinner, will you? He put in a lot of effort to cook something for us.â
You cursed under your breath and straighten out your shirt- hoping she wouldnât bitch about it being slightly wrinkled from you sleeping in it. You seat yourself at the table- adjacent from your mother sitting at the end. Sheâs already changed out of her office clothes and sure enough, here comes your daddy dad from the kitchen with utensils.
âSorry ladies- almost forgot these.â He laughs, placing down everyoneâs set before seating himself next to you. Fuck.
âYou know- your father has only been home a few months and heâs already shown the extent of his memory loss.â She jokes, giving him a loving yet teasing look that makes you want to vomit. And yet jealousy curls up like a cat in your lap, wanting to be lavished with attention from you. The metaphorical jealousy pounces off your lap as youâre met with your dadâs hand on your denim-clad thigh. Itâs an innocent gesture but you want to his hand to go further than just sitting politely.
âSheâs right, but I can be useful otherwise.â Heâs bantering back with her- and you realize heâs making an innuendo when you look over at his face. But itâs weird that heâs saying it while his digits cradle your thigh so gently.
âGross.â You take a bite of your food- momentarily shocked that a dad of any sort could make such a pleasant meal, especially when heâs spent such little time doing domestic duties.
âOh honey- youâre grown. Weâre just teasing each other.â Your mom nods to Leon, taking a bite off of her fork. His hand slides off of your thigh and he grabs his whiskey glass to take a proper sip.
Jeez, he drinks that shit like its water. No grimacing. No face was made when he swallowed it. Just a guy thing you suppose.
Dinner drags on- the both of them forcing you to talk about your less-than-thrilling college experience. No mom, no boyfriend. No dad, Iâm not failing. No you two, Iâm not having unprotected sex- fuck off.
After that eventful meal and conversation where your parents basically eye-fucked each other over dinner, youâre left to clean up the mess while your mom gets ready for bed. She has to leave for work early in the morning- as usual. Guess sheâs going to take your dadâs spot for the absent parent now that youâre grown and traumatized full and proper.
-
Sleep came and went- leaving you to trudge out of bed and do your morning routine. It felt out of place trying to do it back at home- but it was also a sentimental feeling to be doing just that.
Leon is already in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking. Seems impractical, but holy fuck. Youâd gorilla glue your eyelids open just to not miss a single second of what youâre seeing. Maybe that wasnât needed- because you've been staring long enough that your eyes prick with tears. You remind yourself to blink and you seat yourself at the high-top, the stool swiveling slightly when your bottom meets the material.
âMorning, sweetheart. Sleep well?â He asks, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His traps are distracting you. You want to chew your fingernails past the nail bed- bite a finger off too. You canât stand it. For a moment- the way he talks to you- youâre pretending youâre not his daughter. And then a moment later, youâre not being delusional anymore.
âMhm.â You mumble sleepily- wishing youâd have stayed in bed longer. But piercing morning light, lack of blackout curtains, and the chirping of birds outside made that idea inconceivable. Leon chuckled to himself- turned away from you.
You decide to scroll through your phone for a momentâs time before he slides a plate to you from across the island.
âBreakfast a la Leon.â He says- clearly being silly. Corny as fuck, anyways.
âYouâre old.â You snort, setting aside your phone and grabbing a fork to pick at your food until he turns away again. You didnât enjoy the idea of having a hot, shirtless man watching you eat.
He shakes his head, sitting down next to you at the island.
Christ. Fucking go away. Itâs actually enraging now.
You want to scream at him- itâs irrational and crazy- but you do. Screaming at him and being sent away to a ward sounds more appealing than the anxiety crawling up your spine like a horde of fire ants. Potentially- just like the butterflies- theyâre real too.
He seems undisturbed as he settles- taking a bite. You do the same- trying to ignore the fact he's so close you can nearly feel his arm hair touching you every second or so. He breaks the silence after a moment.
âSo- after this, Iâve got a whole day planned out. Mall, movies, and dinner. Sound good?â You nod, a soft âmhmâ reverberating on the roof of your mouth.
He finishes before you and makes his way upstairs- the occasional pain in his back unmistakeable every few steps. And yet he wants to take you to the mall to walk around? You didnât even know how to feel about a day with your dad. Whatâs a dad? Whatâs daddy-daughter bonding? Thatâs lost to you- well- more like it was never even discovered. Not even Columbus could have ventured out and conquered it.
Since heâs no longer in the room, you hastily eat the rest of your breakfast before you discard the plate and fork into the way-too-elaborate dishwasher your mom had installed (you totally didnât spend 10 minutes trying to turn it on).
Back in your room, you settle on a simple, totally not underlyingly slutty outfit. Shorts and a crop top. Can never go wrong with that. Itâs just soft/core prom enough for an outing with your dad. When you leave your room- Leon is just headed down the stairs. He turns to look at you, his smile is as jovial as it has been since youâve seen him. For a moment though, you think you catch his eyes landing on your exposed legs- but you know youâre just crazy. Youâre the one lusting after him, not the other way around. Your dad isnât abnormal like you. His head is on correctly- even if itâs been battered and spun on his shoulders throughout the years.
âReady?â He asks, stopping in place to wait for you. You nod stupidly, breaking from your trance to follow him in a descent down the stairs.
Heâs dressed similar to how he was yesterday- jeans and a t-shirt that should be considered indecent. If you were your mom, youâd beg him to wear something that doesnât highlight every curve and dip of his chest. Hell, if you were your mom, youâd never let him go outside. Too risky. But youâre not your mom. Youâre just unusual.
As a perfect man does, he opens the door for you. Then opens the SUV door, allowing you in before shutting it behind. Youâre sure you've never met a guy that does that in real life, but maybe it was a âyouâ problem and not the guy. Who knows.
When he gets in, he cranks the vehicle only for rock music to start playing from the radio- making the corners of his mouth dimple with a pleased look. Really are the simple things for him. As for you, youâre suffocated in a Hellish torment by both his presence and the expensive scent of cologne and leather seats combo.
The ride isnât long, nor bad. Albeit you two only talk here and there so he can focus on the road- and so you can focus on not dying (heâs not a perfect driver, but not terrible either). Just enough to keep your nerves teetering between a light anxiety attack and full blown panic.
Youâre relieved to get there alive. Maybe not. Your thoughts have you thinking suicide may be your only option for now disgusting they are. And it only gets worse when he helps you down from the step up of the SUV- a hand on your exposed waist and the other on your shoulder. Itâs harmless. Just a dad being gentlemanly. He was shaped and carved out in that perfect, chivalrous image with only a mallet and hammer. No reason to make it weird.
Inside the mall is a tad busy- the perfect amount to be comforting. You feel a bit more at ease in a public setting since you can now focus on anything but your dadâs chest. As long as he doesnât require eye contact or talk to you, that is.
He looks around, arms crossed. Itâs almost whorish. He has to know his arms look good. Or that his everything looks good. The fuck.
âSoâŚâ He cranes his head to the side, bangs brushing over his nose for a moment. The way he looks around makes his Adamâs apple and neck muscles a little more prominent. A perfect, stubbled spot to attack with your lips.
âWhat do you feel like doing first, kiddo?â
You. Is what you want to say.
He looks back to you, smiling down amused. He seems genuinely happy to be able to take you out. But really- his face is making you nauseous. Obviously not because itâs bad. But because itâs good-bad. Too good itâs bad.
âUhh⌠â you look away from him, scanning the entrance area and looking at any signs. Almost like an escape.
âHow about new clothes maybe? Seems like something got ahold to the other half of your pants anyways.â He nudges you with an elbow, gesturing to your shorts with his head.
So he probably did look at your legs earlier. Maybe not in the way you think, though.
You glare at him.
âSeriously?â
Leon puts his hands up in defense. Heâs always on the defense in life anyways.
âJoking, joking. YouâreâŚgrown.â His forehead lines crease when he raises his brows. You did get rather annoyed at his comment, however.
âI could always buy some even shorter.â You spit sarcastically.
âYes- because every father wants to walk around with their daughter who has her ass out.â Heâs quick to remark, this time he seems grumpier when he talks. Sorta like heâs uncomfortable with the conversation. Or that heâs mad.
âSorry my legs make you so uncomfortable. I guess I shouldâve left them at home.â The back and forth here could go on forever between you two but he catches you off guard.
âShit- no. Itâs not that- âs just youâve got nice legs. Canât have theseâŚshitheads eying down my little girl. I may be old, but I can fight when I need to.â
You know he meant his words innocently enough, but the fact that he said nice legs has you giddy inside. Same feeling when your crush calls you pretty. Yeah- that sorta feeling. And his little girl. It has a ring to it. Could even legally change your name to it so that he can call you by it more often. Maybe heâll even let you jump on his dick right away.
Your face is pure rose-shaded. A perfect, neutral shade to make your embarrassment pop on your skin. Youâre sure itâs visible to him, too. Your mom always teased you about how blotchy it would get when you were humiliated. Particularly when she would tell awkward stories about you at family dinners. Bitch.
âWhatâs wrong? Donât be pissed at me, sweetheart. I was just teasin-â
âItâs not that.â You interrupt- heart thumping into your rib cage. If it doesnât stop, or you donât stop your word-vomit, it might crack a rib or four. Probably more. Better have hospital bill and therapy money ready, dad.
âThen whatâs the matter? I just want us to have a good time together. Iâm not trying to upset y-â
âYou said I have nice legs.â Youâre quick to cut him off again.
âAndâŚ?â He trails off, cocking his head to the side like heâs confused. Because he is confused. You stare off to the side- eyes glued to the fountain. Maybe you could go drown yourself in the penny-flavored water that you guarantee hasnât been changed out since you were still the unlucky sperm in your dadâs ball-sack.
âI like that. You saying that.â You speak a little lower now- afraid someone will hear. Or because the tinnitus is so loud in your ears. What youâre getting at is almost clear now. Or at least clear enough.
Leonâs expression is taken aback but still confused to an extent because heâs not even certain what youâre saying. Though, he has an idea.
âOh- uh. Okay. Sweethea-â
âHoly fuck- stop calling me that. Youâre not making this easy. Wanting to fuck you. I know- I sound mental.â You spill it out, guts on the floor and the sword still in hand. Holy shit. Just told your dad you want to fuck him. You could have backtracked- fucking dumbass. You wonât be shocked if he packs his bags and leaves off again tomorrow.
Heâs silent for a moment.
âOkay- clearly I wasnât around enough. I get that. But I mean- fuck.â He runs his hand through his hair, looking around. Probably thinking the same thing about the fountain that you did. Still- he looked hot while having a crisis and contemplating immediate suicide. He paces while your nerves are being electrocuted in your body. Why couldnât you just be normal?
âJust- sweetheart, no. None of thatâs.. I canât.â He starts, turning back to you. It seems he can look you in the eyes now. So maybe heâs not entirely disgusted by you. His face isnât contorted with disgust, so thereâs a chance. Yeah, youâre off your rocker now. You know.
âLook- letâs not talk about this. Câmon. Letâs go catch a movie like I promised.â He starts walking- leaving you standing in a puddle of shame and embarrassment for a moment before stopping to let you catch up.
Luckily- the theater is joined to the mall. Itâll be a short walk.
â
Leon is lax on the couch until he hears the crunchy sound of tires on concrete. Youâre home. Despite his shitty back, he's huffing as he gets up fast and is already opening the door. The air is hot as it greets his skin and he watches you struggle with your suitcase through the heat-haze that spans over the distance.
He calls out to you- making your head snap in his direction. Your face is that of awe and confusion. You donât seem to immediately recognize him- okay. He gets it. Itâs been a while. Nevertheless, youâre beautiful. Heâd seen pictures of you from your mother, but heâs in awe just as you are. Though, he doesnât think that highly of himself so he often wonders if youâre even his kid. Couldnât have made something that perfect, in his mind. He helps you with your bag and follows you to your room. But your demeanor around him is noticeably mousey. At first, it doesn't seem like much. Youâre just getting used to him.
Plus, Leon knows he can come off intimidating. Sometimes. But for him, heâs got a good eye and his job has led him to being able to read even the tiniest bits of body language. Doesnât take him long to see how youâre worming around shyly- subconsciously smoothing your hair down and biting at your lip. Same way your mom acted around him before they started dating. But again- maybe itâs just in his head. Leonâs been wrong a time or two.
A better man would have left it alone. Leon gets that. But an innocent thigh squeeze at dinner can help him test his theory. A thigh squeeze thatâs under the guise of friendly, fatherly touch. You tense- he can hear your small, sucked in breaths as long as his hand is there, along with heat radiating off your body like a wildfire. If wildfires could be horny college-aged daughters with daddy issues, that is.
The idea disgusts him. Because he should feel disgusted and just kill himself. Where did these thoughts come from? He even has the urge to let his hand wander other places. Bets that you have a cute pussy. No matter what it does or doesnât look like, itâs yours and he knows it's cute. Heâd give you two thick digits in your hole (three if you allow him) and have his tongue kitten-lick your clit.
âThere we go. Good girl.â Is what he envisions saying before diving back in for a mouth full of you. Girls like you love being praised. Especially by their estranged father-figure or a middle aged man. Itâs all the same. Heâd pry the daddy issues right out of you with his dick. Itâs long and fat enough, and solves all of his matters properly. Your mom is in a bad mood? His dick will fix that. He canât sleep? His dick will fix that. His daughter is a horny freak and begging for it? His dick will fix that, too- obviously.
Itâs only when your mom makes some stupid fucking joke about his memory loss that he snaps back into reality and he loses the momentum he had going for an erection. Which is good. Maybe thinking about fucking your mom will make him normal again. So he drops a quip right back- something about⌠being useful. Yeah. Again, his cock is useful. Your mom bites at his words, but youâre annoyed and disgusted with his comment- especially with his hand on you while he says it.
Trust me, baby. Much rather be splitting you open than having performative, mandatory spousal sex. Itâs like a switch flipped. Heâs not interested in your mom. Shouldâve had that realization years ago, even. Technically he did. Heâs just now saying it in his head finally. Mostly he was exhausted because she had nothing to do with Leon even when he was home (unless it was for dick). Too bad he was a golden retriever following after her every step like a good doggy. Marriage did that to a guy. He just did what he was supposed to. Kept the lights on, blew out her back occasionally, listened to her complain, and took care of the lawn when he could. Easy enough. Thatâs what men do, right? He doesnât really know what being a man is, honestly. Thanks, Major Krauser. Anyhow- he chokes down his food with a smile. The need to upchuck after everything he just thought up is a given.
He takes the liberty to fuck your mom later that night as promised per (faux) flirting over dinner. He has her face down-ass up, though. For⌠imaginationâs sake. At least fucking a pussy and imagining you is better than his hand and imagining you. Or so he tells himself. Call it killing two birds with one stone, satisfying your mom and quelling his own desires. And itâs not hard to imagine any of it, because you look so much like your mother. He lies awake for a short while after- contemplating his existence and fucked up thoughts. Heâs still holding back vomit and the urge to grab his gun from the nightstand and off himself all over the wallpaper, while in the process, traumatizing your mom. After an hour of this- he figures itâs fine, men think of perverted or weird shit sometimes. Jerk off to weird shit too. He hasnât technically done anything morally wrong⌠sort of. Itâs denial. At least heâs good at playing the part of a genuine, loving father. Because he is! He loves his family. Always has!
Spending time with you would make you happy, him happy, your mom happy. He loves you dearly. All is great. Heâs swearing that his brain wonât be smoothied in his skull by tomorrow. Itâll be normal and function rationally.
But Leon wakes up with the thoughts being real as ever while he stretches an arm out to feel around for your mother- bed empty since she leaves at the ass crack of dawn. Leon had just missed her leave, heâs still getting used to sleeping in ever since he retired.
He gets up and heads downstairs- immediately starting breakfast to take his mind off hisâŚmind. Breakfast is his favorite meal of the day, it makes him feel better to indulge in it right now. Though, he doesnât bother putting a shirt on at any point- just rocking those generic, green and blue tartan patterned pajama pants. Cooking shirtless is weird- but heâs hungry and part of him wonders if heâll get to see your priceless face when you walk into the kitchen. He shakes his head- telling himself that he just had this talk with himself last night. None of that shit.
He was right about one thing. God, he could make a killing in betting. He sees your reflection behind him in the small window above the counter but you didnât know that. Just stood, gawking. Itâs okay. Heâs observative, youâre not. Youâre his dumb little girl. Dumb in the way you shift in your stool next to him when he sits down, dumb how you hold your breath when heâs near, dumb how you canât even eat next to him, and dumb how your thighs seem to wriggle when his arm âaccidentallyâ brushes yours. Oh, heâs definitely not wrong.
Still- he knows when to back off. He hounds down his food, before you even make a dent in your plate, and heads upstairs to shower. Heâs analyzing every detail of himself, contemplating how he can get under your skin the most- his knuckles gripping the sink with distaste for himself. Because itâs wrong. Heâs acting like a teenager. This is a date with his daughter, not his highschool girlfriend.
Leon skips over shaving his face. Likes to keep it a little grown out but not too much so. Just in case he gets the chance to eat (your) pussy or kiss (your) a neck. Then comes the Dior âSauvageâ body wash he never failed to keep with him. He takes pride in smelling good if anything. And this particularly expensive wash, plus the cologne, was his lifeline for that. When he traveled for work- the D.S.O. better have god damned had some sent to his room as courtesy. Ever since Raccoon City- heâs adamant about not smelling less than great. He swears he can still smell the sewer on himself sometimes, even if itâs not really there.
His hair routine was even more extensive and involved a weekly hair mask. Hey- it wasnât wrong for a guy to have nice hair. It paid off.
Heat protectant, blow dry, hot-comb to get any cow licks or fly-aways he might have- though itâs unlikely- and a little spritz of biotin spray to keep it healthy and shiny. All of that in reasonable time, too. And no- it's not weird for him to spend longer on his hair than your mom does.
Besides, you seem to appreciate the way he looks when you come out of your bedroom- watching him descend the stairs. Leon looks back at you- eyes on your legs momentarily then coming back up. He knows it was a quick look- quick enough to make you question it. You do. Very much. Still, taking you out in public wearing those shorts is less than ideal for him, but heâs the one who needs to be watched closely. Aforementioned, Leonâs great at pretending. Pretending to be normal. Pretending to not have ulterior motives. Pretending to not want your legs on his shoulders as he-
âAll ready?â He interrupts himself here. Canât let his thoughts keep going too far. Even if he does want to rest a hand on your leg while he drives. Or veer off the road and into a tree so that he canât continue to be disgusting. Heâd die with the image of being a good, wholesome dad in everyoneâs mind. And if you did or didnât die too, at least you would have died not having been fucked silly by your old man. He manages to not kill you both, though. He wasnât planning to- his driving is just ass. He knows whiskey with his breakfast isnât ideal but when youâre a recovering alcoholic plus post traumatic stressed failure of a father, it helps.
Canât complain though since he gets to put his hands on you while helping you out of the vehicle.
Now youâre both in the mall- Leon questioning what exactly heâs supposed to do now. He hasnât been to one since⌠he doesnât have enough fingers for that. But youâre seemingly calm. Until he makes a stupid joke about your shorts. Sure. As much as heâs thinking about ripping a hole in the crotch to fuck you cause heâs impatient and stupid- he said it out of genuine concern.
He still has fatherly instinct. Some sick bastard could get a glimpse of your exposed legs and go jerk off to it or take a photo. Ironic coming from him right now. The call is coming from inside the house but the dad is too busy fiending after his own daughter to answer.
Youâre royally pissed. He knows it. Women donât like having it insinuated that theyâre dressed like a whore. Big whoop, though. Someone has to say it. Then you blindside him. Big, needy eyes and saying you like it when he tells you your legs are nice. Then something about how you want to fuck him. Christ. What the fuck. Heâs not sure if this is some kind of screwy set-up or youâre actually just so slutty that the only dick youâll accept is your dadâs. Heâs rocking a semi now. Would be a full hard-on if he werenât in public but his head spins cause all the blood went to his loins too fast.
Leon doesnât accept the advances yet. Not now, anyways. Heâs mortified. He really thought he had himself going in delusion about how you were behaving- but he was actually right. And now being confronted with it⌠heâs fucking scared - thatâs for sure. Hmm. Be a morally acceptable human or fuck your needy, whore daughter silly? He shakes his head and lets out an exhale.
That question needs some thought. No, it doesnât. He knows better than to do any of that shit, right? He takes a moment to start walking while you follow along shamefully- the two of you headed to the theater. A movie is perfect. Donât have to talk or anything. No interacting, really. But how the fuck is he just going to forget what you said? Sure, heâs been having questionable thoughts but theyâre just thoughts. Your words, however, spoke it into existence. Like a fucked up, frankensteinâs monster of father-daughter reality.
Donât mind us, everyone. Daughterâs got it real bad for me but Iâm just going to take her to the movies and pretend itâs normal. Reality was distorted for him ever since the existence of zombies and BOWs anyway.
He lets you pick the movie- telling the attendant that he needs two tickets. Itâs a horror movie. Of course. Something to trigger his PTSD, maybe. Then he could say anything he did after that was just accidental. A mental slip. He goes to fork over the $60 for tickets and popcorn- god, when did shit get so expensive? As heâs pulling out the cash, he sees you give him a look like you want to say something. His mind is racing looking at you- it makes him nervous.
âUh.. what about candy?â You ask, looking away from him and at the display.
âWhat? Sour worms?â He questions you, laughing. Not in a mean way- but because itâs your favorite. So insignificant but he remembers. You were still a kid when he and your mom took you to see some milked out childrenâs movie that was a part of an entirely too long series. He bought you two boxes of sour worms then. You were a weird kid, though. The worms were split into two colors, and youâd always bite them down the middle and make him eat the side you didnât like. But heâd do it. Gladly.
You nod, a little befuddled that heâd remember something like that. Cute. Too bad your weird ass just told him you wanted to fuck him about 15 minutes ago. So not entirely a cute moment.
âOh- and two boxes of Sour Worms, please.â He adds, now pulling out a little more cash.
You both respectively grab your own drinks- Leon with popcorn in tow and you, your worms and cherry soda. His hands are full but he manages to flash the movie ticket between his index and middle finger to the usher, who then ripped it in half and pointed to the left end of the hallway.
You both donât say anything, but you immediately race to the very top row like a child once inside the screening. Leon swears under his breath as he follows you like a geriatric snail. If a snail could have lumbar issues. Heâs able to make it up the stairs to you quite some time after and takes the seat next to you thatâs closest to the aisle. Safety and all that jazz.
Previews are already playing so it gives him peace of mind to not address the awkwardness between the two of you. Your soda is in the cup holder thatâs separating you both, but you lean over to take a sip, cheeks hollowed out while you drink. Of course Leon looks over, fuck.
Pretty little lips wrapped around the straw until you pull off of it with a satisfied sigh. Cause you were thirsty from anxiety- like someone shoved gauze and cotton into your mouth.
He shifts in his seat and looks back at the screen. He doesnât even know if youâre doing it on purpose. Youâre not, however. Heâs just a perverted dickhead.
Time passes and not a single soul has come into this screening. Itâs Monday at 11am, after all. Who the hell would come watch a horror movie at this time? No one except two fucking weirdos. Itâs making Leonâs nails dig into the armrest with the other set scratching at his jeans.
The movie doesnât start off bad, to Leonâs shock. Heâs actually enjoying it and you seem just as entranced, pulling open the box of Sour Worms without looking down. You do wind up looking down, however, to bite one in half because it just so happened to be a blue and orange combo, and you hated the orange side.
âHere.â Leon turns to look at you- your eyes coming up to meet his blue ones that are oddly blue enough to the point that any light from the screen makes them pop. Pretty.
âThe orange half. I know you donât like them.â His voice is husky and low since the speakers are blaring some generic string-quartet horror piece. He nods down to the half chewed candy in your palm.
You pinch it between your fingers, bringing it to his mouth as your cunt throbs. He was expecting you to hand it to him, but the way you confidentially yet instinctively brought it to his lips isnât entirely unwelcome. The emptiness of the theater makes it that way. Allows room for incest of whatever. He opens his mouth for you, and you go to place the sour treat on his tongue. His lips gently close around it, before he grabs your wrist to hold your arm in place. A hold gentle enough to tell you that if you want to snatch your hand away- feel free to do so. But you donât. And you wonât. He knows.
Candy in cheek, he brings your fingers to his lips and nurses your knuckles with a kiss before puppeteering your hand with his larger one, working each digit so that he can equally suck each one clean. Youâre amazed, aroused, and alarmed all at the same time. Amazed because he looks so gorgeous sucking on your fingers. Aroused for the obvious reason. Alarmed because duh, heâs your father and things can only go further from here.
Leon places your hand back onto the arm rest between you, chewing the halved sour worm now. As if he didnât just give you the most visually appealing form of sexual affection in the history of womankind. The dryness of your mouth returns and you take another sip of your Cherry soda. Maybe you can drown yourself in it. No, stupid. Thatâs what the public bathroom toilets are for.
Right before you set the plastic cup into the cupholder again, Leon speaks.
âAh, ah. Put it over there.â You donât even hesitate to listen. Record timing for you doing anything. You donât even know why you followed his instructions so quick.
âGood girl.â His words send lightning of excitement down your nerves and straight to your clit as he pushes the armrest between you upwards and out of the way. Because thatâs a thing, for some reason. Itâs like theaters want people to fuck, give head, and spread their diseases everywhere. And why does he know they move? You donât even want to question it. Maybe heâs just a knowledgeable guy.
âCome here, honey. Let daddy kiss that pretty mouth.â Fucking Christ. This canât be real. Doesnât matter, âcause again, thereâs zero hesitation on your part. Leon likes that. A woman that can follow orders. Heâs so used to taking them, not giving them. And your mom isnât one to listen to other people. Either way, if this goes south, Leon can always just off himself. He wasnât around much so what difference would it make if he was permanently gone? The reassurance of being able to log out forever gives him courage here. Itâs rational.
You scoot over since youâre free from any barriers or restrictions, and he puts an arm over you. You swear you almost hear your skin sizzle from the contact. Youâre not a witch- and as far as you know, heâs not water. Even if he gets you wet. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and swipe a thumb over your bottom lip- teasing you.
âD-dad.â You stutter a protest- cringing that you sounded the way you did just now. Maybe you shouldnât be embarrassed âcause heâs your dad- but you are embarrassed âcause heâs hot. You canât even figure out why you wanna back out suddenly. Probably because the idea was better than betraying your mom and knowing yourself as someone who fucks their dad. Anywho- didnât he say something about kissing you? Cause heâs not even doing as promised.
Your dad leans in, his free hand is now on your neck and angling it just to show you how easy he can manhandle your body. He plants a kiss on your earlobe before saying anything.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? Canât go giving daddy blue-balls now. Itâs not polite to start things you donât wanna finish.â
Leonâs words simultaneously gross you out and turn you on in a self-deprecating, disgusting kind of way. Not to mention heâs literally contradicting himself since he would gladly eat the half of the sour worms you didnât want to finish- therefore entirely enabling you to start things you couldnât finish. Hm. That must explain a large portion of your life, then. And besides all do that, doesnât the know blue-balls is some kinda stupid myth or whatever?
His thumb falls down your lip and traces your jawline with intentional slowness while his eyes look over your face appreciatively- but it also seems as if heâs looking for or at something specific.
You get the courage to speak, air sucked fully into your lungs.
âSorry, daddy.â The fuck is wrong with you? You could have said anything but that. Itâll only spur him on. But you want that, obviously.
He smirks, lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth do that same, pitted thing they do that you like so much. Must go hand in hand with how his chin is also dimpled. Itâs sexy. But little do you know, itâs one of the reasons he keeps his stubble. Doesnât feel like having his butt chin on display to the world- even if every woman thatâs ever laid eye on him sees it and wants it buried in their cunt.
âThatâs my girl. Didnât even have to be around much to teach you that, did I?â Leon queries, grabbing your chin to crane your head just so that he can plant his lips onto your neck. His other hand is on your knee, unmoving. You want it to move, though. God- youâre sure whatever higher power is in the great sky is throwing up right now, moments away from pressing the reset button. The same higher power will make a new rule on humanity.
No free will and absolutely no incest. Yeah. Probably should have written that into the books ages ago, one fears.
You fidget as he kisses your neck, stubble scratching your epidermis yet tickling all the same.
âNot gonna answer me, sweetheart?â He murmurs against your throat, the neck kiss he gives it uses a bit of tongue- making your body jolt. âI know your mother taught you manners.ââ
You mumble something pathetically apologetic, hands gripping the fabric over his shoulders. Hopefully your mom wonât notice his shirt being stretched out there- cause she notices everything.
âN-no, daddy. I knew it on my own.â You huff, that hand you wanted him to move is slowly doing so- fingers dragging along your inner thigh as if everything heâs doing to you is purposefully meant to be some kind of forewarning. But for what, exactly?
âSuch a smart girl. Get that from daddy, you know it?â Ok, cockyâŚ
Leon kisses his way back up your neck, jawbone, and then your cheek. Itâs sweet- if being lavished with saccharine, sexual and inappropriate attention from your dad could be sweet.
You nod, feeling his grip loosen from your chin and now sliding up the back of your neck to tangle in your hair, threading it. Heâs slow and deliberate- part of you wishes heâd not give you time to think about your actions. Not that you can really think anyways. Your heartbeat is muddled in your ears and the movie is still rumbling through the speakers while someone gets murdered on screen. Lucky them.
The hand on your thigh presses firmer into the skin just below the edge of your shorts, a silent telling for you to keep your attention on him.
âSorry baby, daddy got distracted. Just so pretty.â He must be able to tell youâre impatient because he kisses your cheek (with an oddly dark undertone to it) before slimming the distance between your lips. He pauses right when they touch and youâre breathing in the taste-turned-scent of the sour worm you fed him earlier. Sugar and that weird orange flavor that is only specific to orange candy. Youâre obviously not a fan, but it suits him.
You donât get any time left to process before itâs a full on kiss- well, make out, actually. Itâs slow. You canât recall being kissed like this, ever. Normally itâs straight to tongue with guys, and not in, like, the good way. The âhaving an eel invading your oral cavityâ kind of way. Eugh.
But your dadâs tongue does brush yours, tastefully. You can actually feel the texture and itâs easy to tell thereâs an erection fueling his actions- but not so much so that it takes over the whole kiss.
He uses your hair to pull you closer, teeth clashing momentarily. Not exactly the best feeling but everything else envelops your senses to the point that itâs only a flash of a moment. Your thigh is neglected by his touch, hand moving up and around onto your backside. He gives a squeeze to the fat of your ass and groans against your mouth before pulling you into his lap- legs folded on either side of his thighs.
You break the kiss, looking over your shoulder and to where the entrance is- the exit sign casting a nearby glow that gives you anxiety..
âCanât- weâll get caught.â You pant, that weird feeling thatâs the grotesque love child of nervousness and excitement is swimming in your gut like a parasite before settling. The severity and realness of the situation sinks in.
Leon laughs low and mean, retracting his hand from your hair and moving to run it through the top of your scalp to push it back. He juts his hips upwards to prod his denimed erection into the cunt of your shorts. You mewl quietly, or maybe it was loud. The movie is just too deafening to distinguish which.
âSuppose youâre right, baby.â He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, leaning in to give you a light peck on the lips. âTold you youâre a smart girl, didnât I? Canât let me go around thinking with my dick, huh?â
His hand pats your thigh as if to tell you to get off.
âCâmon, sweetheart. Up.â He commands you with a huffed voice- not because heâs annoyed but because heâs a middle-aged man. Moving is hard. You ignominiously climb off of his lap, putting your bottom back onto the seat next to him. Heâs looking at you, meandering a hand back onto your thigh just to rest in place.
You stare at the screen- but you canât even register it because youâre too disassociated from what just happened. You almost want to beg him to fuck you right here- plead for forgiveness that you suggested stopping in the first place. And you can still taste that damned orange sour worm in your mouth.
Leon behaves, though. Heâs good about that. Respectful. In the way of consent- not in the way of not tongue fucking his daughter in a public space. When the movie ends, he gestures for you to stand and you walk past him, carrying your empty cup and boxes of sour worms while the uncomfortable feeling of your slick clinging the gusset of your panties to your cunt. You look back at your father, the sight of him in the palely lit theater is a bit intimidating. Heâs adjusting his pants for obvious reasons. You look away quickly and keep walking- a giddy feeling of satisfaction overcoming you. Shortly enough, youâre both back in the main area of the mall. You brush your shirt out and fix your hair- the thought occurs to you that maybe you look a little mussed and should have straightened up sooner.
But the daylight beaming through the sky roof brings you back to your senses.
âHmm. What does my sweet girl want to get up to now?â Leon asks, intersecting his arms as he looks over you.
You think, mind fizzling as it short circuits. You almost smell smoke emanating from your head, too. How can you look him in the face right now?
âUhh..â You really donât know what to say. What can you focus on doing after everything thatâs happened today?
âHow about this? We can go home a little early and Iâll cook something up for lunch. The drive will give us time to work up an appetite.â He says, nonchalant. Right back to his same fatherly tone from earlier today instead of the âI want to split you open with my dickâ tone he had moments ago. Maybe heâs just being sweet and youâre overthinking.
Youâre befuddled that heâs not saying anything else about⌠that. How can he so easily go from publicly groping you to acting cheery and normal? Itâs frustrating. Disturbing even. Leon can see the disappointment on your face- but you donât know that. You assume itâs well hidden, just like the fact you kissed your own father. He thinks itâs cute though. Youâre just cock dumb for him. On the other hand, this whole situation is something he has to deal with.
âGot it.â You manage to say, walking a little faster than he does. This is the second time youâve walked off from your dad, and it does irritate him because he canât keep up like he used to. Displaced disc in his spine or whatever. Plus, he thinks youâre pissed. Which is worrying. Should have known better than to mess around with his own daughter, he supposes.
The drive back is silent and less terrifying than the previous, part of you thankful. Maybe he was only a bad driver in the morning. Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe it was the fact that he drank whiskey with his breakfast. Hm. âResponsibleâ in hindsight.
Itâs still early in the afternoon when you arrive back home. The concrete is sizzling from the heat and the sun beats down way too uncomfortably for even a walk from the driveway to the front door.
Leon side-steps you to unlock the house before he urges you in. He may be morally reprehensible but he still didnât want to let any cool air out- ACâs expensive. You plop down on the couch and he locks the door, walking past you and straight to the kitchen.
The tension is thick for you- but for Leon- not at all. You watch him disappear through the doorway as he goes to prep food. Why is it so hard to read his emotions? Heâs like a fucking light switch. Youâre annoyed- leaning back on the couch, until he calls for you. Youâre quick to get up, scrambling into the kitchen.
âHey, sweetheart. Mind giving me a hand?â
âYeah. What is it?â You faintly cock your head to the side.
Leon looks to the side- directly at you. Youâre cute when youâre confused. He can tell that all youâre thinking about is continuing where you two left off earlier. Shit, youâre no better than your mother. âS just that youâre not crabby and sour all the time like she is.
âCan you grab the saucepan from the bottom cabinet. Your old dad canât exactly bend over too well.â He laughs- shaking his head. Yes, dad. I get it. I know you have a bad back.
You walk over to the cabinet where heâs leaned onto one hand which is rested on the marbled countertop. You feel a bit apprehensive to be close to him again. Mostly because you donât trust yourself to not jump his bones, but Leonâs already ahead of you. As soon as you bend over, he pulls you back by the hips so that your ass is flush with his groin.
Youâre taken aback but definitely not surprised. Heâs a dirty old man, as youâve learned.
âGonna let daddy fuck this pussy now, or are you getting flaky on me?â He coos against your ear while he runs his hands up your sides and down again- creeping his hands to your front and over the buttons of your shorts- unhooking them through the slits.
âYes.. want it.â You breathe in quick- the word coming out on its own. If god could hear you right now, heâd set your house ablaze with lightning.
âNeed you to loosen up if Iâm going to. Youâre way too stiff.â Your shorts are the opposite of you, loose and unfastened fully so they fall to your ankles, and Leon nudges your feet apart with his boot. You realize heâs got a point as you feel his calloused hand glide down your hip and yank you in place. The other hand is spreading your pussy lips apart before finding that fleshy bud between them. A moan rumbles in your throat as your legs almost give out below you. He mutters a curse under his breath, and you realize his cock is now out while he rubs up against your ass- getting off on not only playing with your pussy but from dry humping you.
âFucking christ. Got the prettiest ass, baby. Think daddy needs to see it bouncing on his cock.â You can practically feel that stupid, smug look as he grabs his dick- slapping it on your ass. It makes you cringe a little, but maybe you should be cringing at the fact your dad is the one doing it. You figure itâs just something he saw in porn, so it doesnât leave your expectations high at the moment. Great. Leon adjusted himself back into his pants, for now.
His finger continues circling that bundle of nerves, your legs shaky as youâre being pressed into the counter, a hand is on your lower back to keep you down so he can do what he wants. You sound stupid- tears welling in your eyes as you babble nonsensically about wanting to cum. He moves his hand off of your back and sinks to his knees to be face level with you (even if it makes his back hurt a little), sliding his fingers up your inner thigh until thereâs a digit prodding your hole, slowly pushing in.
He watches your cunt swallow his finger, barely able to fit it inside.
âFucking shit, baby. Gonna have to stretch this pussy out if I want my cock in you, huh? Think you can let daddy do that?â He asks, breathy and sounding like heâs trying not to bust all over himself.
You eagerly shake your head.
âYes, daddy. Need you to get me loose.â The words spill like a hot cup of tea from your lips, scalding Leon with desire.
âGod damned. Such a polite fucking girl Iâve got. Might have to eat your mother out later to thank her for making you so respectful.â
You scrunch your face in disgust.
âThatâs fucking gross.â You moan, Leon slipping a second finger into you, which should technically feel like four with how worn and big his hands are.
He tuts, planting a kiss to your asscheek.
âNow, didnât daddy just compliment you? Could be a bit more grateful since heâs trying to make you cumâ He grits, sounding a bit (terrifyingly) stern.
You apologize again.
âSorry, daddy. Just donât wanna hear about you and mom. Makes me jealous.â You admit, briefly thinking about their dinner conversation last night. Then about how fucking weird you are. Youâre really hoping you get the courage to bash your head on the marble countertop and get amnesia.
Leon laughs, but in a way that makes you think heâs amused more than actually laughing.
âGod. Want me to stop fucking my own wife just âcause youâve got a needy pussy?â A third finger slips in, making an almost unbearable stretch as you feel a slight ache, but the previous two fingers already did enough work that itâs not completely unbearable.
âMaybe youâre not that grateful. Giving you three fingers here and sheâs still too tight.â He twists his hand, letting the inside of you feel every inch of his knuckles and calluses. Your knuckles, however, are ghost-white as you grip at nothing.
âMaybe your fingers are just too small.â You say- mostly from built up tension and annoyance that you didnât get to let out yet. But you regret the words.
Heâs silent- which scares you. He pulls his fingers out of you- the stark contrast in emptiness is clear and the cool air stings you.
Leon groans as he stands up, kicking off his boots before yanking you by the arms to stand straight. He leans into your ear.
âCâmon. Youâre gonna come sit on daddyâs dick, since youâre too fucking picky.â Goosebumps form all over you as he leads you to the couch. Leon leaves you standing there so he can get comfortable and discard his clothing, lying back with his hands behind his head. You make a mental note of how his biceps look with his arms bent in this position, even if you kinda feel like itâs lazy. But holy fuck, his toned stomach is perfect- sprinkled with a happy trail that will definitely lead you somewhere that will make you happy. Speaking of, his dick is nice. Fat. Not sure how big it is since you have not much to compare to, but youâd imagine taking it would be a bit of a proper challenge.
You step a little closer- crawling awkwardly over his lap- ass faced towards him so that you settle on his waist. Itâs hard not to feel self conscious about your backside in this position, even considering the fact that he was just fingering you from the back moments ago. Youâre mostly just upset you canât gawk at his tits or stomach.
You grab him by the base, shifting yourself to hover directly over him, letting the tip graze your wet hole before slowly sinking down- a drawn out moan escaping you.
âFuckkk. Thatâs it. Sit down on it. Take all of daddy.â You glance over your shoulder as you bottom him out; his eyes are half-lidded. Well, at least heâs got a pretty face while youâre fucking him. You almost failed to realize his hands moved from behind his head to your ass- gliding up your back and down again.
You take a moment to adjust, breathing shakily âcause his dick is so fat you think you might die. Or maybe youâre having a heart attack at your ripe age.
âDidnât tell you to take any breaks, did I baby?â Youâre annoyed at his pushiness, but you did have a bit of a sour attitude earlier. So you can only blame yourself.
Youâre not sure how to entirely do this, but you move yourself up and down. Not at a fast pace, yet. Just that savoring your dadâs dick seems like a reasonable ordeal.
He doesnât shut up, though. Youâre learning just how much he likes to talk- as if he just wants to hear himself. Is he even getting off on you or the sound of his own voice? It makes you roll your eyes even if you do like hearing him say dirty shit.
"Thatâs my girl. So fucking good. Ride it nice and slow... Work that sweet pussy on daddy's cock.â You just might fall over dead hearing him say any of it- itâs disgusting but sweet Jesus are you eating it up. He must know it too because of how you clench around him involuntarily when he talks like that.
âYou like when daddy praises you? Yeah, you love me telling you how good you are.â His words are husky and yet pleased with the previous tidbit of information.
âSee how nice I am? Letting you sit on my cock after you made me wait earlier. Wasnât very nice of you, now was it, baby?â His words have an underlyingly mocking tone, but youâd do anything to make him change it.
âNo, daddy. Was really mean of me.â You whine pitifully, bouncing yourself on his dick like itâs your major in college and youâre trying to pass with flying colors.
âI know, baby. But daddy forgives you.â He murmurs, sitting up with you still on top of him. Heâs flush against your back now- reaching in front of you to make those same tight circles on your clit. You both exchange your pitchy moans and his grunting and groaning- working up to a good point in both of your impending orgasms.
âGonna cum in this pussy, got it? Daddy doesnât like to pull out.â
You scramble a bit, squirming on his lap.
âFuck, dad! You canât do that!â You whine as his other arm holds you onto him- wrapped around your stomach. Your nails dig into his forearms, hopefully not leaving noticeable scratches.
âI think I can, baby. Youâre squeezing me at the idea- Iâm not fucking stupid.â Heâs quick to be mean again, but youâd be a liar to say youâd donât want him to cum in you. And youâre not a liar, thatâs just deplorable- coming from someone who is literally fucking their dad with enough energy to power a small village for a month. And yet, you donât stop riding him.
And your silence tells it all.
âYeah- my baby wants a nice creampie.â He sounds more strained now, letting go of his hold on your stomach and using his hand to now guide you to roll your hips on him.
Sweat beads down Leonâs forehead, bangs sticking to his face as he watches your ass grinding against his lap.
âFuck, baby. Just like that. Iâm gonna cream this tight fucking pussy. Want that, donât you? âCause daddyâs gonna give it to you whether you want it or not.â
You should be a little more upset or concerned in any regard right now, but the last two days have made you into a proper whore to the point that you donât even give a shit. Self respect crawled itself into a space shuttle and launched off of the planet, probably to never be seen again. Stuck in orbit, if you will.
Youâre sucked out of the motions when Leon speaks again.
âStop, stop.â He pats your bottom.
âTurn around, baby. I wanna see your face. Wanna kiss those lips while youâre on my dick.â Your stomach flutters with nervousness and a sickly sweet feeling. You lifted yourself from him with a trail of arousal to follow and maneuvered to turn around- this time he was holding his cock ready for you. Moments went by of you staring, getting a proper look of him since everything had been a quick blur so far.
âCome on, baby. Need you to mount daddyâs cock again. Told you I wanted to kiss you, didnât I?â He exhaled, sounding a bit pent up. Jeez- seconds without pussy and heâs getting upset. Maybe he needs a therapist and anger management, not his college-aged daughter spearing herself on him.
You replied, yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. Didnât mean to make you wait, daddy.
You dropped yourself down onto him once more- only this time it was easier since you were able to get accustomed to his dick.
âStart moving sweetheart, make daddy cum.â He instructed, leaning in to take you in a kiss. It was more dirty than the last kiss, somehow. His tongue slipped between your lips- Leon lifted you with his hands on your waist before jutting his hips up to slam his cock snugly into your heat, groaning against your mouth delightfully.
His teeth nipped your lower lip- giving you a little further taste of just what kind of lover he is. Or maybe this is just the version you get. Either way, you canât complain in any area. You feel lucky to receive even a sliver of it.
The familiar roughness of his thumb returns to your already throbbing bud- circling at the same pace heâs now moving at. Despite his age, he seems awfully enthusiastic to do strenuous work involving his hips. Bad back, my ass. Or maybe heâs able to put that on the back burner to please you. Probably worried if he doesnât give you good dick then youâll go tattle on him.
Leon didnât break the kiss whatsoever while he pounded into you ruthlessly, he swallowed up every moan and noise you made like it was alcohol. âCause that was his favorite, obviously.
When he pulled his mouth off of yours, a trail of saliva lingered- stretching out while you giggled on top of him. Something about you laughing almost made him nut immediately, but he held out just to prolong this and let it engrain into his mind for certain.
âGot the prettiest baby- look so good on my cock like this. Want daddy to bust in that pretty pussy?â He asked, looking for your approval.
âUh-huh. Need daddy to knock me up.â The words came from god knows where, making even your eyes look bewildered for a second.
Leon laughed darkly at you.
âGod, baby. Daddyâs so fucking close.â He muttered stupidly, almost like he was drunk. At least this could be an ego boost for you- but the fact it was your dad canceled that out. Dick only counts if itâs from someone thatâs not related to you. His eyes did that half-lidded thing from earlier that you found so hot, and he pulled you down onto his cock one last time, spilling thick ropes into your blood-related hole. His dick pulsed as he let out a muted grunt, head lolling back and his adam's apple on full, stubbly display. You could bite it, just like a real apple.
âFuck, fuck, fuck.â He moaned. Jeez. He was a whore, honestly. The way he made noises and didnât shut the fuck up was honestly⌠a case that should be studied. Maybe he had been turned out a time or two himself.
His cock didnât soften though, nor did he not forget about you cumming. He lifted his head back up, looking down at where his thumb was. It was almost like he read your thoughts, not saying a word as he concentrated on making you cum. âCause earlier he had been too eager to get in you and you were too eager to get on him.
Your nails dug into his shoulders (hopefully your mom wouldnât notice any marks on him when she gets home from work later) and he gently fucked into you while you received proper attention on your aching clit. The combination of his dick keeping you full and the sensation of his digit sent you throbbing through your orgasm around him- low curses and other disgusting things coming out of both your mouths.
âCause youâre both disgusting.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy death island#leon kennedy vendetta#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon s kennedy#tw inc*st#tw#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#leon s kennedy smut
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What's A Soulmate? Part 3
In which your best friend comes back to you. But is it too late?
Warnings: oof the angst. swearing. that's it. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words
(a/n: this is how i cope after that hot mess of a race today. i hate everything and everyone except for my pookie bear lando norris)
- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - Master List
2021 You keep your promises.Â
2022Â And then he started dating her.Â
2023 Silence.
March, 2024AustraliaÂ
âWe are so excited to have you join the team.â Your new boss beams back at you as you follow her through the corridor. âThank you for making the flight at such short notice. Had we known Summer was going to quit so abruptly, we would have had you come out with the team earlier in the week.âÂ
You nod, adjusting the collar of your new papaya and black polo. âOf course, Iâm just happy it all worked out.âÂ
The heat of the Australian sun beats down outside the McLaren hospitality building, but inside the air is cool and dry. Youâd landed in the country last night after what felt like the longest flight youâve ever taken from New York into Melbourne but were so happy to be back in the paddock after what felt like ages.Â
âLike we discussed earlier in the month, youâll be working with Oscar as his primary press officer. Iâm sure you know what that entails and everything, not much has changed since Carlos was with the team, but if you have any questions you have my number.â Brenda smiles down at you as she hands you your new McLaren issued iPhone. Â
Three weeks ago, you had graduated from NYU with a double degree in public relations and business management. One week later, you had accepted a job offer from McLaren to join the communications team working with Oscar. Between your dual degree and experience working in the paddock with your brother, the job had been a slam dunk for you.
âThe boys are just finishing up some filming up stairs. Letâs go up and introduce you to Oscar. You already know Lando.â She says, with a bit of a smile. Your friendship with the Brit was well known back during the years you were still working with Carlos. No one knew how much it had changed since though.Â
Nerves fluttered around in your stomach as you follow Brenda up to the second floor where you could hear Oscar and Lando loudly laughing at something. As far as you knew, Lando was unaware that you had taken a job with McLaren. You had asked Carlos and Charles to keep your new job quiet around the paddock, not wanting to create drama before it was necessary. This was certainly going to be a shock, you knew that.Â
The last time you saw him flashes through your memory, quick and painful, as Brenda approaches where Oscar and Lando stand each holding dry erase boards.Â
Early 2022
âWhat do you mean she doesnât want me around?â You nearly laugh, the absurdity of what your best friend is telling you not fully computing.Â
Lando grips the back of his neck, eyes looking everywhere but at you. âOur friendship makes her uncomfortable.âÂ
Now you really do laugh. âWhat friendship, Lan? Iâve barely seen you this year!âÂ
It was the truth. Ever since you had started classes in New York last year, your time to see your best friend had dwindled down into nearly nothing. You went to as many races as you could but going from spending nearly 24/7 with your brother and Lando to barely seeing them once every few months was more painful than you had anticipated. It hurt so much to watch him continue on, seemingly so unbothered by losing you, but this? This was the last straw.Â
He had been dating the Portuguese model for a bit now and you had to admit, she was pretty and wonderfully nice. You truly had no issue with her, having met her once at a Grand Prix you had attended before classes had started this year. She was quiet, sweet, and obviously adored Lando so her being with him was fine with you. You wanted to see your best friend happy. But now? Now she was threatened by someone who wasnât even a second thought in Landoâs head?Â
You had spent the last few months desperately trying to believe that Lando wasnât pulling away, that he wasnât purposefully putting distance between you and him. Texts would go unanswered, calls went unreturned. You had chalked it up to him being busy and adjusting to having a new teammate but now you guess you had the truth: he was avoiding you.Â
âIf thatâs what you want, Iâll respect your wishes.â You murmur, taking a step away, suddenly wanting nothing more than to retreat back into the Ferrari motorhome where you could nurse your embarrassment in peace.Â
âItâs notâŚâ Lando fumbles, but you know what heâs about to say isnât true. This is exactly what he wants.Â
âNo, I get it Lan. Sheâs threatened by me. I respect that and Iâll make myself scarce this weekend. You and her wonât have to worry about me anymore.âÂ
The pain of your words slices through Lando. He hadnât wanted to do this, far from it. But the fight that she had started last night when she had seen you in the pit lane laughing with Carlos and Charles had put him in a tight spot. You were his best friend, but she was his girlfriend. He owed her the respect, right? Even if he knew that nothing was going on, nothing could happen. It wasnât in the cards for the two of you.Â
âIâm sorry.â He says.Â
âMe too, Lan.
You blink rapidly, erasing the painful memory from your brain as your boss steps towards Oscar and Lando, who are watching you approach. The look on Landoâs face sends your pulse skyrocketing. Itâs a look thatâs somewhere between surprise, confusion, and maybe even a bit of betrayal and you hate every bit of it.Â
âOscar, I wanted to introduce you to your new press officer. She just landed last night so Iâm sure sheâs a bit jet lagged but she insisted on getting to work straight away. Sheâll be taking you around for media duties after FP2 today so be nice, okay?âÂ
âIâm always nice.â The Aussie says, soft smile on his lips. âItâs nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time.âÂ
Your eyes dart towards Lando, who is still somewhat glaring at you like he canât believe youâre in front of him. He talks about you? Still? Your stomach does an involuntary somersault at this bit of information, blush creeping its way high up on your cheek bones.Â
The phone in your hand chimes with a reminder. Oscar is due to an Australian media outlet in ten minutes for an interview. âWell, thatâs my cue.â You turn to the girl that had been filming the segment with a friendly smile. âIs he good to go?âÂ
âHeâs all yours!âÂ
With permission to leave, you turn on your heel and walk towards the staircase, Oscar in tow. Lando watches after you, still struggling to process what just happened. You worked for McLaren now? As Oscarâs press officer? He had just played padel with Carlos this fucking morning and he hadnât said a single word about this. Surly Carlos had known about your taking the job so why hadnât he told him? Did you not want him to know? Did you hate him so much that you didnât even care if he knew or not? How had the most important person in his life become someone he just used to know once?Â
That last fight before heâŚsaid some of the the most shameful thing heâs ever said flashes through his mind as he wanders down to his drivers room, suddenly needing a break.Â
âYou literally never shut up about her. âShe does this.â And âshe does thatâ. Jesus Christ, Lando you could not be more obvious about it.â The anger in her voice had set his teeth on edge. âAnd now I have to sit and watch the, what did they call you guys? The Chaos Gremlins? Now I have to sit and watch The Chaos Gremlins be reunited for the entire fucking weekend and just sit back and take it?âÂ
âThere is nothing going on between us.â Lando insists, running his hands through his curls. âI havenât seen her in months. Months!âÂ
âBut there would be if she was here, right?âÂ
He had no answer for her. Because she was probably right in her assumption. If you had stayed, Lando had no idea what wouldâve happened.Â
âItâs her or me, Lando.âÂ
The rest of the day passes in what feels like the blink of an eye. By the time Oscar is done with all of his interviews at the end of the evening, you feel dead on your feet. Youâve lost all sense of time, feeling like youâve been hit with a truck and you want nothing more than to get back to your hotel room and sleep for the next 5 to 10 business days. Or the last free practice tomorrow afternoon.Â
The Uber to the hotel takes far too long but just as your eyes are about to shutter closed in the back seat, you arrive and drag your near lifeless body up to your room. A quick shower is all you have the energy for, desperately needing to get the germs of the day off and then, youâre in bed, blissfully tucked between soft white cotton sheets watching some weird Australian soap opera.Â
Your eyes are heavy when the alert dings and you nearly ignore it, assuming itâs Carlos checking in. He could wait until you saw him tomorrow. But a quick glance shows you it isnât Carlos.Â
You donât fully understand why you gave him your room number. Not when the only thing on your mind is going to sleep. This is probably a really bad time to have such an important conversation too but a part of you, that part of you that never stopped hoping that maybe one day your best friend would come back to you, that part of you wanted to get this out of the way so you could move on, with or without him.Â
Ten minutes later, thereâs a soft knock on the door and you haul yourself out of bed, still bone numbingly tired but also strangely keyed up with nervous energy. This would be the first time you had really spoken to Lando since that night two years ago. Sure, you two had exchanged pleasantries when you found yourself in the paddock for a race weekend but most of the time you kept to yourself in the Ferrari garage and motorhome, making sure your presence wasnât noticed by anyone outside of your brother and Charles.Â
Tugging on your favorite NYU crewneck, you pad towards the door while willing your racing heart beat to slow. This is fine. This is going to be okay. You two needed to talk if you were going to be working closely this year so this had to happen sooner or later.Â
The door swings open and Lando stands in front of you looking just as exhausted and devastated as you feel.Â
âHi.â He breathes, hands wringing together.Â
âHi Lan.â You sigh.Â
His smile widens at the nickname and you open the door a bit wider to allow him in. You cross the room, settling on the king size bed before staring up at him. âYou wanted to talk?âÂ
The pain in his eyes cuts such a deep slice through you, itâs a wonder you donât start bleeding out on the bedspread.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me you were coming back?â He crosses the room towards you, setting every nerve ending in your body firing. Heâs too close and you canât control yourself when heâs like this.Â
You shrug, wondering how youâre still able to hold yourself together at this point. âI didnât think youâd care.âÂ
Lando drops his gaze away from you then, shame and anger surging across his handsome features. âOf course Iâd care.âÂ
âYou didnât when you chose her over me.âÂ
He drags a hand over his face, the look of misery that sits on his face is reminiscent of the night you told him you were moving to New York City all those years ago. The memory brings a surge of white hot pain that cuts you so deeply it steals the breath from your lungs. If you had known that this was where youâd end up, you didnât know if you would have made the same decision.Â
âAnd listen, that was fine, I guess. You had to respect your relationship with her but the most confusing thing was afterwards. Why the radio silence after?â You fold your hands into your lap, unable to meet the gaze that you feel so heavy on your skin. Heâs practically begging you to look at him but you simply canât.Â
âI was ashamed.â He admits and you feel the tears prick at the back of your eyes, a hot and painful sting that reminds you of how much youâve lost. âI was ashamed at how I treated you and couldnât face it.âÂ
âRightfully so.â You mutter, rolling your eyes.
âIâm sorry.â He murmurs while reaching for your hand. âIâm so sorry for how I treated you. I should have told her to fuck off for making me choose between her and you. I should have chosen my best friend and Iâve regretted that decision every day of my life since.âÂ
The fact that youâre finally hearing the words youâve been dreaming of hearing for nearly two years hits you like a ton of bricks. Here he was, your best friend, finally apologizing and owning up to his mistakes and for some reason, it felt like it was all just too little too late. How many nights had you stayed up, sobbing on your living room couch with your roommates over the stupid boy who was mean to you? Wondering what you had done to make him treat you like this? Hadnât your friendship meant more than what it had ended up being?Â
And now, here you were, back in his orbit again and it justâŚdidnât matter. You had spent so many nights wishing this would come and now that he was finally taking responsibility and owning up to his actions, it just didnât feel like it was enough.Â
âI think you should go.âÂ
âWhat?â He stutters, fingers gripping yours almost desperately.Â
âI am exhausted and need some time to process this Lando. And you have quali tomorrow, you need to be focusing on racing, not on our issues.âÂ
âI donât give a fuck about racing.â He bites out, blue eyes turning stormy gray with anger. âI want to fix this.âÂ
âThis isnât something that can be fixed with a single conversation.âÂ
You didnât even know if it could be fixed at all, if you were being honest with yourself.Â
âThen Iâll keep going until it is fixed, I promise.âÂ
âDonât make promises you donât intend to keep, Lando.â You warn, rising from the bed. âI need to get some sleep, okay? Iâll see you tomorrow.âÂ
Lando feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. He had never intended for your friendship to end up like this. It justâŚslipped away from him and he was so swept away by his lifestyle the last year that he convinced himself you were both better off where you were instead of together like the universe intended. He had been so scared to admit how wrong he had been, choosing her over you that night that he had allowed it to spiral so out of control it might never come back to him. You might never come back to him.Â
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#f1#formula 1#lando norris#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris angst
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You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)
Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesnât inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.
Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if youâre under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelanderâs part? Do not interact if youâre under 18.
When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilledâuntil they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you werenât even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed pageâa loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him âJohnny.â Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.
You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good olâ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people youâd grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelanderâs childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.
To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boyâs Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.
Still, in all of that, youâd never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that heâd be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.
âI think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,â Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved âyouâ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. Itâd been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. âYou and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?â
âYou know, Tracey, not as much as Iâd like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,â Homelander said. âI did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!â
You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldnât help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldnât shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasnât so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelanderâs past.
âNow, Iâve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?â
âIt is! Iâm excited for this project, getting back to my ârootsâ so to speak. Iâll be voicing myself, of course, but itâs funny youâd bring up Y/N, because theyâve agreed to voice themself, too.â
âHow fun!â Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowdâs applause and cheers. âI guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. Iâm just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!âÂ
Homelander laughed along with the hostâs giggles, âWell, you never know.â
You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldnât be talking about you. âY/Nâ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd.Â
When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor.Â
SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week
The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit âsendâ, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.
Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasnât hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too.Â
When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadnât been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you.Â
âHomelander, hi, itâs great toââ
âNo need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,â he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadnât been aware of.
âSorry, Johnny,â you said, playing along. âItâs great to see you again.â
He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. âFigured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, donât you think?â
You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant whoâd accompanied him out of the room.Â
He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.
âGotta say, Iâm a fan of your work,â he said.
âThank you,â you said. âIâm not sure I understand exactly whatâs going on, though.â
âWhatâs there to understand? Iâm not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?â
âHow did you know it was me?â
âWasnât hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,â he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. âI havenât told anyone. Whatâs a secret between friends?â
You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. âWhat do you want to know?â
He sighed, resting his head on his hand. âEverything.â
So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversationsâor more like interrogation sessionsâwith you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that youâd ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.
He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasnât even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world youâd been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.
Youâd been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.
âYou remember, donât you? You won it for me at the county fair,â you said without thinking.
He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadnât. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.
âItâs been a while since we were there, huh?â he said. âWhy donât we go back?â
You furrowed your eyebrows. âGo where?â
âHome.â
With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didnât seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set.Â
âGeez, itâs like nothingâs changed,â he said cheerfully.
You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasnât anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in.Â
The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parentsâ taste in entertainment.
âWhich one was your room again?â he asked.
You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks youâd left behind.
An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.
âCâmon, after how long weâve been friends, I would never hurt you,â he said, as if reading your mind. âWeâve been through so much together. I mean, we were each otherâs first kiss.â
You froze. Issue #9. That was something Voughtâs editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadnât thought much of it at the time.
He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.
âShow me how we did it,â he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. âSo clumsy and nervous, I can even feel youâŚquivering.â
âHomelander, I donât know what youâreââ
He tsked. âY/N.â
You let out a shaky breath, âJohnnyââ
He hummed in satisfaction. âItâs alright. I know itâs been a while.â
You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back.Â
A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.
#homelander x reader#homelander x you#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys tv#the boys amazon#homelander#homelander the boys#the boys
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