#which is really bad when it's all there is
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thinking about how 141 men would take advantage of christmas or just a cold weather in general.
fem! reader, 18+ minors do not interact!!
johnny definitely takes some mistletoe and waits for the perfect opportunity to be like "oi look a' that bonnie, a tradition is a tradition." and he just swoops in on you to literally maul you. slobbers all over you like a dog, pants into your mouth and grabs handfuls of your ass unapologetically. honestly half of his brain shuts down as soon as he has his hands and mouth on you. also doesn't care about timing or privacy, he'd do this in front of a room full of people.
simon is a meanie. he loves coming back inside to your home, catching you unawares while you're singing some christmas songs and baking. it doesn't help that he can only be heard when he wants to so you really stand no chance. he walks up to you and shoves his cold ass hands under your sweater and holds on to you so you can't even move away. he would start by grabbing your hips and quickly moving forward to cup your boobs while you whine about the goosebumps. he definitely ends up grinding onto your ass and whispering into your ear about how he can warm you right up.
kyle lets you talk him into matching ugly sweaters mostly because he is too hot to look bad in anything. he loves seeing you happy so he will do anything. if you are celebrating with your family or friends he is literally the picture perfect boyfriend that gets everyone oohing and aahing. he helps you with the tree decorating when something is out of your reach (but he lets you try to do it yourself just to see the sweater ride up and show of your skin, he is still cheeky) and he always tastes your cooking telling you exactly what it is that you're missing and have been trying to figure out for the past 10 mins. but his mind is playing out scenarios in which he's gonna get to the lacy lingerie he saw you wearing underneath the sweater.
now john is more lowkey about christmas, if he was on his own he wouldn't even bother with a tree. he does end up getting one for you ofc (after mean mugging few part-timers that tried to flirt with you but every time you looked at him he didn't let anything show but the guys there started giving you a wide berth). he will bring you to a work christmas party that he was forced to go by laswell and when he sees people bring their kids and you interacting with them, his mind starts racing with some wild thoughts about how your christmas could look next year. when he corners you in the bathroom and locks the door the only response to your wide-eyed stare is that he is "gettin' into the christmas spirit, love. jus' like you wanted."
#cod mw2#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#simon ghost riley#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#bunnie writes#x reader insert#ignore how i've been MIA for a while just to come back with some more cod filth
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I JUST GOT A CRUSH! ᯓ★ katsuki bakugou x f ! reader. 1.02k words / fluff / not proofread
bakugou is bad at social media. not exactly terrible, yet not so great either.
he really doesn’t care too much for it nor does he use it that often but he’s not that unfamiliar with it. he finds himself being on tiktok from time to time though he never really bothered to make it known that he had an account in the first place, just enjoying whatever he comes across and liberally blocks accounts that come up on his fyp that pissed him off. he never posts anything either so it didn’t matter. it’s a typical account with a generated username and a blank profile, 57 following, 0 followers.
recently he found a video that he wanted to share (an edit made by a fan) and posts the link on twitter, alongside saying how ‘it’s real sick’ of them to make that for him. he didn’t even know videos like that were famous. the effort and skill it took made him think it were cool.
what he also didn’t know, was that his profile would be revealed when you press on the link.
he got so confused when his account suddenly gained so many followers in just two days since he ‘never mentioned it.’ that was until he sees the replies on his tweet that the linked he used to share got him exposed.
he checks it out for himself which proved that he did actually share his account without knowing, but it’s ‘whatever.’ even after everyone found out he just used it like normal. it’s only a pain when they kept asking him to post something.
he truly is without care, yet he underestimates the fans who immediately stalk his ‘almost’ empty profile. you see, he doesn’t know that his reposts are public because he doesn’t actually look at his own profile. it’s usually a like, like, repost, favorite, like, then close app routine that he does before he goes to bed.
there's a few funny videos here and there, cooking videos and recipes too, things he'd like to try out soon for himself, or techniques that were really helpful for him. some are also videos of fan edits that he recently discovered, where the same video he shared was at the top of the page.
yet, there was one reoccurring face that kept popping up. a pretty girl who likes to lip sync some songs or show off their trinket hauls. sometimes mini vlogs from their day to day or makeup vids. and the topic trends everywhere: DYNAMIGHT TIKTOK CRUSH
when you saw it you really couldn’t believe it yourself that the one anonymous commenter on your videos was a pro-hero, your favorite nonetheless. though, it makes you a little nervous since your face is plastered all over different social platforms because you’re only active on that app. you don’t know where to go from there except squeal into your pillows. definitely flattered when you recall the many times he called you pretty on your vlogs.
as the rest dive deeper into his little ‘crush’ they even saw him comment on a few of your videos with compliments that sounded extra flirty. they teased him so hard saying how he looks like a creep especially with that profile. he’s never gonna hear the end of it. soon a new topic blows up that reads: GO FOR IT DYNAMIGHT
in his defense, if he were to give anyone an explanation, he thinks you have a really nice smile and a really soothing voice. also that you’re real cute and charming, that’s why he could watch and even rewatch all your content in one sitting. he couldn’t get enough of you, absolutely smitten. even had to ask kirishima how to turn on notifications for an account in the guise of turning it on for his agency's tiktok.
you’re also the only account he’s following that’s not a cooking channel or a pro-hero. and yeah it’s basically all that, a crush. not that he expects you to actually give him a chance, he’s happy just seeing your content.
however, the poor (not really) bakugou is actually unaware of the whole situation of his ‘tiktok crush’ trending since he was finishing a mission. only finding out when he got a call from kirishima asking if he found a girlfriend already. “what the fuck are you on about?”
“your fans are talking about how you keep reposting videos of this one girl on tiktok. i mean, it’s kinda obvious if you’re dating.” and it hits him, quick. your username (the one he could only remember, really) flashes in his head, but he laughs it off. “nah nothin’ like that. think i could shoot my shot though?” he asks him and kirishima says, “haha! i think she already beat you to it.”
not knowing what he meant, he swiftly gets home, showers, and lays on his couch whipping his phone out of his pocket to search up your username. and there he was, staring at his phone, unable to stop the smile on his face when he sees the thumbnail of your new video. he opens it immediately and there you were, holding a dynamight figurine (a very limited one too!) close to your cheek that you’ve never shown before until now. you never thought to show it thinking he might see it and think of you as weirdo. it gave the opposite effect actually, even made him more confident because who would've thought your pretty collection had a 'random guy' in there (definitely not random for you at least).
bakugou immediately likes, reposts and adds it to his favorites. even screen recording the whole thing cause you never gave access to download your videos—it was a very special moment for him okay!
he then comments, ‘you can have the real thing too.’
a few minutes later it’s got your icon with a heart beside it. he chuckles, happy that you finally noticed him. beams when he gets a notification that you followed him back.
he’s definitely going to dm you after he calms down. just hopes this time you don't beat him to it again.
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i love a katsuki with a crush i think it's so cute. but i love it even more that he's still confident about it!!! i like to think that reader probably has like 20k followers or something so pretty big but not as big as the others. the first time he met you he stumbles upon a video of you talking about the ice cream u just got and then he got hooked cause u were so cute when u were picking the flavor. PLEASE DO NOT SHARE THIS ON TIKTOK BTW >< also minors & ageless blogs please do not follow me!
#bnha fluff#mha fluff#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou fluff#bakugou fluff#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#my hero academia fluff#ᦾִ❤︎ by cola
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i got it bad
logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)
word count: 4.9k
summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.
or - getting yourself off on logan's abs
warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie
Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.
Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.
Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.
He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.
You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.
He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.
“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”
“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”
The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.
“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.
“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”
“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”
Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.
He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.
The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.
You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.
As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.
He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.
Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.
That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.
God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.
But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.
His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.
“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.
He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.
“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”
“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”
“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.
Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.
“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”
For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.
“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”
But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.
What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.
The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.
Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –
He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.
Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.
When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.
••••••
Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.
There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.
He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.
But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.
What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?
He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.
Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?
With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.
It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.
As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.
He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.
“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”
You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.
“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”
Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.
“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”
“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.
He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.
“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I���ll let you get back to—”
“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.
He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.
The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.
But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.
He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”
You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.
It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.
“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.
“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.
“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”
“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.
You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.
“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.
It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.
“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.
“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.
“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”
“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.
“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.
Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.
You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.
He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.
No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.
During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.
It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.
When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.
He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.
The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.
Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.
“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.
“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”
You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.
He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.
“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”
“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”
He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.
“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”
He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.
“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”
For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.
Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.
With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.
He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.
Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.
You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.
“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”
Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.
And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.
He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.
“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”
His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.
You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.
He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.
He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”
“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.
He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.
He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.
“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”
“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”
You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.
You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.
“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.
You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.
He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.
“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”
“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”
He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.
“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”
You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.
You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.
“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.
“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.
You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.
“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”
“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.
Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.
You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.
“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.
You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.
“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”
thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️
for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader
diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex
lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#worst!logan x reader#worst!logan#logan howlett oneshot#logan howlett smut#logan howlett imagine#logan#logan howlett one-shot#logan howlett one shot#logan howlett fic#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool 3
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Actually, I think this does link in with a wider conversation that I have been thinking for a while Tumblr maybe needs to hear.
There's a common meme on this site now that no one here has any reading comprehension skills. The best one is, of course, the original "No offense but reading comprehension on this site is piss poor/How dare you say we piss on the poor" post, which gave rise to the nickname "pissing-on-the-poor website". There's also the "I like pancakes/How dare you say waffles are terrible" one. Both of these are great, because they're silly jokey ways to show two closely related phenomena that are probably the commonest ways to fail a reading comprehension check.
The first is someone reading certain catchphrases or buzzwords in the post, and based on their own biases or prior experiences or whatever else, their brain simply fills in what it reckons the poster is saying on the topic. Instead of reading the rest of the sentence and digesting it, the reader then just uses their assumption as the interpretation, and reacts to that.
The second is closely related, because it also uses biases and prior experiences to to interpret the post, but rather than ignoring what the OP is actually saying, it instead performs a series of gymnastic leaps to construct a whole new assertion on the OP's behalf that simply isn't there.
There's also a third, of course; that one is people being so eager to feel smug and superior over someone they perceive as Bad that they wilfully assume the OP is stupid or being serious when they're actually joking. And if the reader hadn't been so blinded by their desire to get to look down on someone, they'd have seen the very obvious tells, sometimes even including sentences like "Obviously this is a joke." (I think we have all seen examples of these. Also, in a bid to avoid as many reading comprehension fails here as possible, this does not include misunderstandings borne entirely of neurodiverse struggles to parse intentions; but, neurodiverse people are just as likely as neurotypicals to have ego play a part in their misinterpretation of others, and that is what this point is about.)
And the thing is... actually, we are all capable of any of these. I imagine a sizable chunk of people reading until this point were probably thinking "Lol, yeah, people are so stupid," but na, nage, I'm not having that. Literally everyone does these sometimes. And it becomes a particular risk when the topic under discussion is something that might brush against an issue that is a pressure point for you, like a social justice talking point that you are forever having to argue with internet strangers about, for example. Your brain holds schemas! And sometimes it likes to pattern match things before it deigns to tell you about its findings! And that can hit you right in the emotions, which if they are strong enough, really can shut down all rational thought.
But. This brings me to the real point of the post.
Because the thing is, we have all saddled up and gone to war under these conditions, or at the very least been strongly tempted to. And a vital skill that literally everyone has to learn, sooner or later, is:
Before you hit 'reply', double check the post to make sure you fucking understood it.
And that does not mean "simply re-read, confirm your bias, carry on." It means, "Is it possible to read this post from the point of view of someone who doesn't intend it the way I've taken it? If I put myself in the shoes of an innocent, could they still have written these words? Is there another interpretation for these phrases?"
And you do have to do this step. You simply do have to. Because if your desire is to 'clap back' and call someone a gargling knobskin made of garbage, fuck me sideways but you must see that it is imperative that you check if they actually deserve that kind of treatment first. You cannot spend your time claiming that we must all choose to be kind and then not bother doing your due diligence before screaming a person's various and assorted bigotries at them. If you misread it, and they were innocent - you are the raging aggressive cunt in this situation.
It does not matter that you reacted from an emotional place of normally having to defend yourself either, by the way. Sure, that makes the quality of your human soul better than that of the average Redditor who just enjoys anonymously hurting people, I guess? But it's also irrelevant. If you messaged someone and called them a misogynist because you performed several mental somersaults and landed on your own sore spot when they meant no such thing, you are the attacker. You owe them an apology. And yeah, sure, you can explain your over-reaction as the product of your normal experiences if you like, but that is only an explanation, not an excuse. You are still the asshole here. You still need to apologise and mean it.
And you could have avoided it if you'd done that due diligence, as you should have. If you're going to take a swing, make sure it's the right target. This was once described to me as donkey people - they don't think, they just kick. This is admittedly a little unkind to donkeys, who always do their due diligence, but I feel it's an apt metaphor.
TL;DR: If you feel moved to angrily reply to something, first make sure you've interpreted it right. Don't be a donkey person. And if you ask for clarification, people are innocent until proven guilty. Ask nicely. If they are a bigot, you can then smelt them for parts.
#I reckon anyway#mileage may vary I suppose#but this has certainly made my life a lot happier to stop assuming everyone was attacking me#and to stop getting into pointless fights with no good or satisfying ending#this has been this week's Gospel According to Elanor
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Buy Me Presents ⟡˖ Boyfriends!Dad!Rafe x reader ⟡˖
𐙚 Your boyfriend sucks. But his dad? Well, he’s not so bad…𐙚
(Heavily inspired by the book “Birthday girl” by Penelope Douglas and the song “Buy Me Presents” by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s my lil bday gift to myself. Shout out my luv @cameronwillow for beta reading for me.)
Age gap(Rafe is early 40s Reader is mid 20s), Rafe is your Bf’s dad (duh! It’s the whole plot), Reader has a tramp stanp and nipple piercings, Male masterbation, Mutual pining(so so much pining), Thoughts of cheating, Actual cheating (not by Rafe or R), Jealousy/possessiveness Spanking, Pussy eating, Unprotected sex, Biting, Choking, Size kink, She’s a looong one, buckle up!! 18+MDNI!!
You love your boyfriend, you really do. And he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He just isn’t necessarily a good boyfriend either. The easiest way to put it is that he’s neglectful. In every sense of the word. It’s not out of character for him to forget to pick you up from your late night shifts at the bar you work at. He is constantly forgetting your plans, or just flat out ditching them in favor of hanging out with his friends. He never cleans up after himself unless you ask, and even then the chances are slim that he will actually do it. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know how to turn on the dryer. Why would he need to? He knows if he leaves the piles of dirty laundry long enough you’ll get sick of it and wash them yourself. And last but certainly not least, he is the least financially responsible person you’ve ever met. He misses work to the point where he gets fired from every job he’s ever had. He spends all his money on partying and eating out. And now? He’s screwed you out of your apartment that he hardly even pays for since he’s always late on bills.
He decided that having a fucking rager on a Tuesday night in your small apartment complex instead of picking you up from your double shift was a bright idea. You ended up having to get an uber home, which you absolutely couldn’t afford and by the time you made it home your place was trashed and your boyfriend was out front being hauled into a cop car. Apparently when your landlord asked him to shut the party down he got all agro and started screaming and arguing that it was his house and he can be as loud as he wants. And when your landlord didn’t agree? He punched him in the face. So he called the cops and they took him down to the station to cool off. This wasn’t the first time he was asked to break up a party like this, but it was the last. Your landlord evicted him and even though he hardly paid you still couldn’t afford it without even that small amount of help.
He ended up calling his dad from the police station to come bail him out and of course he did. He always does. That’s why Caleb Cameron can’t account for a single goddamn thing in his life, he always has daddy’s money to bail him out. That’s why you are where you are now, staying with his dad, for the foreseeable future. After Mr. Cameron bailed Caleb out, he offered you both a place to stay at his house. His nice house that he built. Which you of course tried to decline.
But after much convincing from both Cameron men, you agreed to move in while you save money to get another place on your own. His dad doesn’t need help with any of the bills but he asked that you and Caleb keep up on the chores and take turns making dinner every night. You’ve been here for a few weeks now and so far you’ve been doing everything. Caleb hasn’t even picked up a single sock off the ground.
Mr. Cameron or “Rafe” as he’s asked you to call him several times now, isn’t bad. He’s been very kind and generous to you since the moment you met him. Which wasn’t until the other day. Caleb never wanted to introduce you to him. You’ve seen him around and of course you know of Rafe Cameron, this island isn’t very big. But from what you can tell their relationship isn’t the best so you’ve never actually had a conversation with him up until now.
He’s been easy to coexist with though. He’s surprisingly low maintenance. Rafe spends most of his day working with the guys on his construction team and then he comes home and showers. If you aren’t working a late shift you always have dinner ready. He comes downstairs in fresh sweats and pops open a beer. Then you, him, and Caleb all eat together. At least you’re supposed to, Caleb was only here the first night you moved in, he’s spent every other night out. Leaving you and his dad to eat dinner together alone.
Tonight is one of those nights. Caleb went out to the bar with his friends, even after you told him you were making his favorite dinner for him. He left before it was even done. Rafe will be home anytime now though. You’ve noticed he’s usually home around five thirty so you have dinner ready and kept warm by five. You made chicken parmesan from scratch and it’s in the oven set to warm while you sit at the shiny marble kitchen island, doom scrolling on your phone. You hear a key in the lock and you hate that ears perk up. The door opens and you hear keys being dropped in a glass bowl before footsteps sound toward the kitchen. It takes him a few seconds to come into view because you also hear him unlacing his work boots, but when he does? You can’t stand that your stomach swoops at the sight of him.
Not only is Rafe generous, successful, cleans up after himself without being asked, he’s always on time and he always asks how your day is. He’s fucking gorgeous. His piercing blue eyes make your skin heat each time they’re on you. His messy mullet seems like he’s been cutting it for years, which there’s just something charming about. Like he could have someone do it for him but he’d rather just do it himself because it’s cheaper and easier. Not that he’s hurting for money. His dad might have cut him off and left him with nothing but once he found out he was having Caleb he refused to be like him. He built his own construction company from the ground up and worked odd jobs to get to that point so his son would never want for anything. His personality just makes him even more frustratingly sexy. It doesn’t help that his thick arms that always seem like they’re going to burst out of his t-shirts are covered in tattoos and his smile, god his smile, it gives you butterflies from your stomach down to your pussy. He always looks particularly edible when he gets off work though.
“Hey, Caleb here?” Rafe walks into the kitchen wearing dirty work jeans and a carhartt coat, his face has a few smudges on it and he really tests your strength when he pulls the jacket off. He’s only wearing a tight white tee that’s just as dirty as the rest of him, his broad chest and thick arms on display. You feel like you’re going to go insane when he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair and it causes his shirt to ride up and show a sliver of waist. You finally pull your eyes away from his body to meet his own and he has a brow raised in your direction. God, how long have you been ogling him? Hopefully he didn’t notice. Fuck.
“Oh, uh- no, he went out.” You let out a small sigh and shrug your shoulders trying to play it off like you don’t care. Like you didn’t make his favorite meal because you’ve hardly had any time together recently. Like you didn’t hope you could eat together then snuggle up and watch a movie together, maybe fuck. But apparently whatever party he went to tonight held priority over his own girlfriend.
“Mmm, he seems to go out a lot, huh?” Rafe chuckles and his lips quirk into a small smile but you can see the sadness in his eyes. Caleb is avoiding him and you both know that. But it’s not like him ditching you to go out is a new occurrence. “Well, I’m gonna go shower.”
“Kay, dinner is ready whenever you’re done. I waited to eat.” You don’t respond to his question about Caleb, you both know the answer, it doesn’t need to be said. His eyes linger on you for a moment and you don’t miss the way they flash to your thighs in your little sleep shorts momentarily before he turns and exits the room. You hate that just the smallest attention from him has your skin tingling. You’re just lonely, that’s all it is. He’s your boyfriend’s dad, you can’t have a crush on him. It’s just a fleeting attraction. You’re not blind, the man is walking sex. And it’s been almost two weeks since you’ve been fucked.
Around twenty minutes later Rafe comes downstairs and grabs his beer like he always does. Then he wanders into the dining room where you have the table set with dinner dished up. There’s an empty plate in front of the chair beside you in case Caleb decides to come home. But you know he won’t. Which makes it all the more hard to not drool over the way his dad is wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black tank top like it isn’t the sluttiest outfit a man could possibly wear.
Rafe could say the same about you though, sitting there in your little pajama shorts and a cropped tank top with a tiny zip up hoodie that you have unzipped halfway so it’s hanging off one of your shoulders. Smiling up at him from his dining room table that has never been set a day in its life up until you moved in with a warm meal prepared for him after a long day. It’s something he’s always wanted, someone to come home to, someone that cooks him meals that aren’t take-out or from the microwave. And he hates how sweet and full of life you are. He hates it because he loves it. You blast music and dance around while you clean. You bring the kind of noise to this house that was otherwise so quiet sometimes he felt like any sound he made bounced off the walls. And you’re so fucking pretty it almost hurts.
Especially because he can never have you. Not only is he old enough to be your father, you’re his son’s girlfriend for fucks sake. But that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy your presence. Especially if Caleb isn’t going to. He loves his son with all his heart but just in the short time you’ve been here he’s noticed he isn’t very attentive with you. He wishes that didn’t disappoint him and also fill him with something that is tinged with jealousy that he pushes away immediately. He just doesn’t like to see his son taking a woman like you for granted. If he had someone like you? He’d worship at her feet and do anything he could to make her happy. He really needs to find a way to control these thoughts he’s been having about you because it seems like they intensify the more time he spends around you and he can’t let a small attraction that he can tuck away in the back of his mind become anything bigger than that. Not with you. He’s just getting older and more lonely every year and you’re beautiful, easy to talk to, and living in his house, wearing those little tank tops and tight yoga pants. It’s just some minor lust, that’s all.
“I made chicken parm and there’s uh - mashed potatoes and sauteed veggies.” You gesture to the food on his plate as he sits down in the chair across from you.
“Thanks, looks good.” Rafe clears his throat and cuts a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it between his lips with a groan that has you clenching your thighs. “Damn, that’s delicious. This is Caleb’s favorite, right?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m sorry he’s not here.” You sigh and look down at your plate, pushing some food around with your fork. Mentioning the lack of your boyfriend’s presence has another wave of disappointment washing over you. You’re starting to wonder why you even get your hopes up anymore.
“You don’t need to apologize for him, he’s a grown man.” Rafe’s expression hardens slightly, he can’t help it. You made Caleb his favorite dinner and he flaked on you? Not only is he disappointed as his father but he also can’t believe any man would take your sweet gestures for granted. He’d die to have someone be this attentive with him. “I’m sorry he isn’t here.”
“Ha! He’s a grown man, you don’t need to apologize for him.” You throw his words back at him with a smirk and it makes him chuckle, the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
“Well, you got me there.” Rafe runs his hand over his head turning sideways under the guise of having to stretch but really he’s hiding the little smile that you keep seeming to bring to his face. Rafe thinks it might be a little too giddy to be coming from your boyfriend’s dad.”For what it’s worth, this is really good, thank you. I appreciate you cooking.”
“Yeah, no problem, just paying my dues.” It’s your turn to pretend to stretch. The words he said were so simple, but to you, they held so much meaning. To be appreciated for something you do, isn’t something you get very often. “I’m - um- I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah it’s really good.” He pokes the veggies on his plate with his fork and gives them a look of disdain that has you hiding a chuckle behind your hand. You’ve noticed he tends to eat around the healthy stuff you serve him. “But I could do without these veggies though.”
“I’ll make a healthy eater out of you, you’ll see.” You give him a playful glare that he returns with a smile he doesn’t bother to hide this time. “It’ll be good for your heart, old man.”
“Wow! I am not that old.” Rafe brings his hand to his chest in mock offense and it sends you both into a fit of laughter.
“Mhm, whatever you say old man. Let me know if you need help getting up the stairs after dinner!” You lean forward on your elbows and laugh and it takes every bit of willpower Rafe has to not linger on the way your tits bounce at your motions.
“You’re funny, I like talking to you.” You hate that the way he says that makes your body heat because you know he doesn’t mean it like that. And you shouldn’t want him to.
You really need to stop relying on Caleb for rides. This is the third time now that he’s forgotten to pick you up from your two AM shifts and you don’t really have many other options. Your coworkers already left you to lock up for the night, your sister isn’t answering her phone and you’ve never been able to rely on your dad for a single thing in your life. You wish you had friends to call. Or money to get your own car. You groan and throw your head back in frustration when your boyfriend’s phone goes to voicemail for the fifth time. You could call an uber but you’re really trying to save money to get out of Rafe’s hair sooner rather than later. Rafe, he would pick you up. But do you even want to call him? He’s definitely asleep, since he gets up at the crack of dawn everyday for work and do you really want to open that door?
The two of you have been getting along really well the last few weeks, settling into coexisting with one another. You honestly spend more time with him than you do your boyfriend at this point but he’s already done so much for you and you aren’t sure if you want to push it. You could sleep here, on the couch in the office and hopefully Caleb will get back to you by morning. But you really want to take a shower. And if you uber it’s really just setting you back on saving so in the long run it’s going to put Rafe out even more anyway. Fuck it. You click on his contact and it only rings twice before he answers.
“Hello?” Rafe’s sleepy voice says your name and you can’t help but wonder if that’s how he’d sound moaning in your ear while he pounds his - you’ve gotta stop. “Everything okay?”
“Hi, Rafe.” You take in a shaky breath, god you hate asking people for help. “Um, everything is okay, it’s just - is Caleb home?”
“Is he not with you? I thought he was picking you up tonight.” You hear rustling, like he’s getting up out of bed. “He’s not here. He hasn’t been home since this morning unless he came home when I was at work. Are you okay?”
“No, uh - he’s not with me.” You clear your throat and let out a dry, half hearted, chuckle. “He was supposed to pick me up, he must’ve just gotten caught up, maybe his phone died or something. I can’t get ahold of him could you -”
“I’m coming to get you. Stay inside, keep the doors locked.” You hear his belt clanking as he hurriedly gets dressed on the other side of the line. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Seven minutes later you hear Rafe’s pick-up idling outside and your phone is dinging with a text that he’s here. You aren’t sure how it's possible that he got here so fast, considering his house is in a nice suburb outside figure eight and the bar you work at is on the cut, but you don’t question it. You lock up the bar, walk over to the curb, and hop in Rafe’s truck.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t have anyone else to call and -” Rafe chuckles but it’s not one of those charming ones you’ve come to know, he seems irritated and now you really wish you would’ve just slept in the bar.
“Don’t, be sorry.” Rafe shakes his head as he puts the truck into gear and pulls off toward his house. “I’m sorry that my son left you hanging like that.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” You wave your hand and try to brush it off with a smile, maybe ease some of the tension. But Rafe’s hands just tighten on the steering wheel causing his knuckles to whiten and he breathes out hard through his nose. Maybe you really fucked up by calling him.
“No. It’s not. It’s unacceptable.” Rafe grits out. He’s trying to not be unreasonably angry but the way he’s watched his son basically neglect you has been grinding his gears more and more everyday. And now he forgets you at one of the sketchiest bars in town in the middle of the night? You were alone, it seems like your coworkers already left. Anyone could have decided to try and break in, what would you have done if he didn’t come?
He hates that it makes him feel animosity toward Caleb, that jealous feeling that’s tinged with possession growing more and more the longer he’s around you. He would never forget you. If it was up to him you wouldn’t work in that bar at all and he’d take care of all your needs and desires. Rafe is old school, he wants a pretty woman to come home to, to cook for him and let him eat her pussy every night before bed. Someone who will keep him in check and make him laugh when it counts. The way the two of you have been living together kind of feels like that, excluding the sex parts. Lines are starting to blur for him and maybe he just really needs to get laid. It’s been over a year now.
“If you ever need a ride, call me. I’ll be there.” You don’t argue, there’s no point. This man is as stubborn as you and if you try and disagree you’ll just go back and forth till one of you caves. And you have a feeling it would be you. His voice holds a finality that just has you nodding in agreement before the two of you fall into comfortable silence for the rest of the drive.
Okay, Rafe seriously needs to get laid. He feels like he’s living in a never ending intro to a porno. He isn’t sure if he’s ever been more thankful or if he regrets ever putting that in the ground hot tub out back but he feels like he’s being tortured. It’s mid November so the pool is covered but the hot tub is free game and you’ve definitely been taking advantage of that. He should be glad, it’s the first time it’s getting real use since he built it but the fact that you go in it nearly every day means you’re in a bikini nearly everyday.
You have a few different ones but the one you’re wearing right now while you walk through the kitchen. You have a pink towel that you definitely brought with you from home thrown over your shoulder and the little platform slides you’re wearing are the only other thing on your body. The baby pink straps of the bikini hug your curves perfectly. The little triangles barely cover more than your nipples and he can see that they’re pierced through the thin material. The bottoms are practically a thong, showing off that little angel wing tramp stamp tattooed on your lower back. Hardly something you think that a girl would wear around her boyfriend’s dad, but he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose.
Things have been different between the two of you this last week. Caleb went on a ski trip with his friends and didn’t even bother to invite you. It’s not like they’re your friends, anyway. So it’s just been you and Rafe for the last five days. There was a night that the two of you ordered chinese food and you showed him what a “christmas horror movie” is. Which he really enjoyed. He’s not huge on movies but he can’t deny that he loves a good horror movie.
You laughed and joked together. Playfully teased each other over your food orders and ended up just ordering twice as much food. You both sat maybe just a little too close and your arms brushed every once in a while. It was almost like you both got more brave after that, letting glances linger a little longer than necessary. His hand on the small of your back when he passes the kitchen. Flirty banter. And your outfits somehow seem to be getting smaller and smaller by the day.
His cock pulses as he watches you bend over in your little swimsuit to grab a water bottle out of the fridge and he doesn’t advert his gaze fast enough because when you stand up straight and look over your shoulder at him there’s this mischievous little glint in your eyes and a smug smirk painted on your lips. You turn his way and rest your palms on the marble countertop he built himself and it almost makes your tits spill out of what little material is covering them. He’s going to lose it.
“You gonna get in with me yet, old man? Or are you still too boring?” You tilt your head to the side with a bright smile and your voice is so saccharine he feels like he’s gonna get a goddamn toothache. He can’t go in the hot tub with you though, his control is slipping more and more everyday and being that close to you, wet, in that bikini, seems like a recipe for disaster.
“Guess I’m still too boring, little girl.” Your little ongoing inside joke of teasing each other about your ages makes him chuckle because he’s not really old, he’s only forty two. And you’re certainly not a little girl, you’re a sexy young woman. Too sexy. And too sweet and thoughtful. And you’re fucking funny and quirky. And he hates how bad he wants you.
It’s getting harder to chalk it up to lust the more time he spends alone with you. But he still has hope that he’s just lonely and horny because he can’t like you, you’re his son’s girlfriend for god's sake. Even if Caleb doesn’t treat you like you’re even his girlfriend at all. He’s barely seen him the entire time you’ve lived here. He’ll hit up one of his old booty calls tomorrow, it’s saturday and every woman on this island is just dying for a chance with Rafe Cameron. The only problem is he doesn’t like any of them. He doesn’t have to like them as people to get this pent up energy out though.
“Suit yourself, have fun being old and boring.” You shrug and send him a wink. You let your eyes travel from his face down his body before turning on your heel toward the door. He holds in a groan at the sight of your hips swinging, your ass jiggling in that tiny material. He was already half hard but that sent him over the edge. He needs to take a cold fucking shower.
Rafe runs his hands through his hair, letting the cool water cascade down his back. He lets out an exasperated sigh because truly this isn’t doing shit. He’s fucking cold, still hard, and he can’t stop thinking about what would happen if he did go in the hot tub with you. Was it just a friendly invitation because he built it and you think he needs to relax more? You definitely think that, but the look you gave him said there was more to it than that. The look in your eyes always does. Like you’re saying something to him without saying it and he’s pretty sure he looks at you the same way. It can never be more than just teasing, more than walking that line. You’re off limits and he knows that. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you and what nobody but him knows can’t hurt, right?
Rafe lets his mind wander. He imagines what it would be like if he took you up on your offer. He’d get in with you and sit as far away from you as you could. You’d probably talk because even though Rafe isn’t a big talker, it seems to come easy with you. He thinks about the way the water would make your tits float in that little top and how little tendrils of your hair would fall free from that clip you have in and stick to your skin. He can see that little cheshire smirk you always give him and that mischievous look in your eyes is just straight up naughty now as his mind has you inching closer to him by the second.
You’d press yourself against him, your beautiful tits that he knows are probably so soft pressed up against his arm as you look at him with pouty lips and tell him how bad you want him. He’d grab your hips and pull you into his lap to straddle him and wandering hands would turn into heated kisses while you grind down on his cock. He would finally take that top off and get to see your tits, grab them, suck them.
Rafe grabs his throbbing cock and squeezes the base before pumping it in his hand. He groans in his chest as his head falls and his fantasy continues. In his mind his hand travels between your legs and pushes your bikini bottoms to the side, rubbing your clit a few times before thrusting two fingers knuckle deep in your wet pussy. You’d let out the prettiest moans while he pushes you to the edge with his fingers. And then you’d beg for his cock and he’d fuckig give it to you. The pace of his hand on his cock picks up and his breaths grow shallow as he imagines his hand is you, sliding his dick into your wet heat while you moan his name. You start to ride him and Rafe feels his stomach tighten. The imaginary you’s tits bounce beautifully in his face and it has his cock throbbing in his hand as he spills cum down his wrist.
He pants, the you filled haze he was in starting to fade as he comes down from his high. He turns and washes himself while he tries to shake the regret setting in. He really needs to get you out of his system.
You sigh as you use a damp towel to wipe down the bar, going through the motions of your closing duties. Caleb got home from his ski trip today and you wish you were more excited. You haven’t seen him yet since he got back while you were at work but he’s supposed to pick you up tonight. You told your sister you might need a ride, just in case. You hate that you feel like you can’t rely on him anymore. It wasn’t always like this, he used to be attentive and loving toward you, you used to be best friends. As time went on though, he got comfortable and lazy until it got to this point. You used to get butterflies and count down the seconds until you saw your boyfriend again and right now your stomach just feels like it’s filled with a pit of snakes.
He left you for an entire week, without even so much as an invitation because “he figured you wouldn’t want to go”. He left you the entire week alone in the house with his dad and if you and Rafe didn’t get along so well that would’ve been incredibly awkward. God, Rafe. You hate that the snakes in your stomach start to morph into butterflies at the thought of him. But the instant guilt that washes over you has another round of snakes swallowing the fluttering bugs whole.
These thoughts and feelings you’ve been having toward Rafe have only increased more and more over the last week. You’ve had fun with him. He’s easy to be around and surprisingly funny. You’ve grown comfortable around him and adjusted easily to living in the same space as him. Maybe a little too comfortable. You made yourself cum to the thought of him twice in a row last night. It was the first time you gave in and let your mind wander there but you haven’t cum as hard as you did in a long time. He’s just so fucking sexy and there for you. You’re just lonely, that’s all. At least that’s what you keep trying to tell yourself.
Despite your lack of faith in him, Caleb did end up picking you up from work and he even stopped at your favorite dinner for late night fries and milkshakes like you used to. You laughed together and you remembered how hot he was. His wavy blonde hair, his soft green eyes and charming, boyish smile. It’s almost like you forgot what he looks like from how little you’ve been around him lately. Everything felt better than it has in a while. Not great, but good. You had hope that maybe you and him could get back to normal up until he had you on your back with your legs spread.
Caleb isn’t bad in bed, he’s not the best ever but he’s always satisfied you. He doesn’t go down on you as much as you’d like and no matter how much you ask he won’t be rough with you but the sex isn’t bad. Tonight though? No matter what you did you couldn’t get out of your head. You usually love the way Caleb shoves his face in your neck and moans in your ear but something about it just felt like he was trying to avoid looking at you and the weight of his body as he thrusted deep into you almost felt suffocating. You were wet, you wanted to cum, but your brain wouldn’t let you. That was until Rafe’s face flashed into your mind and no matter how hard you tried to push him out it was like he barricaded himself there. You imagined it was him on top of you instead and it’s embarrassing how fast you came after that. Caleb wasn’t far behind you, spilling into the condom before pulling out of you and rolling over on his back. That was another thing, you were on birth control and no matter how much you begged him to cum inside you he wouldn’t. He said “it wasn’t worth the risk.” He fell asleep shortly after that and even though it was almost four in the morning you couldn’t shut your mind off. So you get out of bed and wander downstairs to the kitchen for a midnight snack.
You nearly jump out of your skin when you round the kitchen corner to see Rafe sitting at the island. Your hands fly up to cover your chest on instinct because all you’re wearing is a tiny silk nightie. You didn’t expect him to be up. God, did he hear you?
“Rafe! Hi! You scared the shit out of me.” You let out a breathy laugh and try to act normal. Your hands find the hem of your nightgown and tug, willing it to cover more of your ass. But that only pulls it further down your tits and the way Rafe is looking at you right now is making you want to melt into the ground. He’s never looked at you so hungrily but he also looks kind of pissed off. “I didn’t expect you to be up, sorry!”
“Huh, well, I couldn’t sleep.” Any hope that he didn’t hear you diminishes in that moment. “If you’re going to get railed under my roof at three in the morning the least you can do is try and be quiet.”
“I-” Your entire body warms and your words get caught in your throat. He really just went right out with it, didn’t he? He couldn’t just pretend it didn’t happen like a normal person? “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah? Me too.” Rafe chuckles almost condescendingly. “I have to be up for work in an hour and I’ve spent the last forty five minutes listening to your fake moans until you finally came.”
“Mr. Cameron.” You gasp at the brashness of his words. Why does he sound like a jealous boyfriend and not someone who’s angry at a loss of sleep? “I don’t think that’s really appropriate… I’m sorry if we woke you up but-”
“No.” Rafe’s tone makes your body tingle with anxiety and something else you try not to dwell on as you watch him push himself up from his seat and round the kitchen island in a few strides. He stops only inches in front of you, his large frame looming over you. It’s only now you realize he’s in nothing but a pair of black, low to the hips sweatpants and it’s blindingly apparent that he isn’t wearing any underwear. “You know what’s inappropriate? Moaning so loud your boyfriend’s dad can hear you from down the hall… Or is that what you wanted?”
He drops his voice to a low whisper at the last part and you’re completely stunned by his words. Especially because he’s not wrong. A small part of you hoped he’d hear you. You didn’t expect this reaction though. Your words are caught in your throat for a minute too long and you know the way you’re looking up at him with your thighs clenched and your eyes blown wide gives you away. And when he smirks down at you, you know you’re caught.
“It is, isn’t it?” Rafe leans down further into your personal space, his plush lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear. “Naughty girl.”
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest and you’re at a complete loss for words. You’re starting to think you fell asleep and you’re dreaming. Rafe pulls back, his eyes feel like they’re setting your skin on fire as he looks down at you like he wants to bend you over this counter right now. But, he doesn’t. His large hand grazes your shoulder as he reaches out to push your hair back and after giving you a final once over from head to toe he takes a few backwards steps before turning on his heel and going up the stairs. What the fuck just happened?
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You can’t believe Rafe is here and with Hollis Robinson, of all people. Her being here isn’t irregular, she comes in here every week to hang all over the different blue collar men. You guess she’s just trying to go for something the opposite of her last husband, midlife crisis and all that. But why does she have to be here with him. There’s no way he didn’t agree to come here just to piss you off. At first you weren’t sure if he just had a naturally flirty nature and maybe you were just thinking too much into it because like you’ve been beating into your own head you’re just lonely. But after last night in the kitchen? And now this? You’re starting to think there’s more to it.
Especially since you want to walk over there and claw Hollis’ eyes out of her skull for how she’s looking at him. And the way he keeps looking over at you over her shoulder with a smug fucking grin painted on his face says a lot. This is payback for last night and if he wants to play that game? You’ll bite. You pull your tiny black tank top even further down, revealing the top of your red bra and you pull up your low rise jeans up slightly more on your hips so they hug your ass. You make sure your tattoo is still on display though, you’ve noticed him looking at it.
“Can I get you guys a refill?” You lean down and rest your palms on the table with a wide smile on your face and you can’t help but press your elbows together to show off your tits even more. The charming smile Rafe was throwing Hollis’ way falls the minute he lays eyes on you. He came here in hopes of riling you up and gauging your reaction to see if this was all in his head but now he’s the one feeling like clawing someone’s eyes out.
He’s picked you up a few times but he’s never come inside the bar and he can’t believe that this is where you work. It’s not particularly dirty but it’s definitely a dive bar, the kind of place guys like him and bikers on the road stop for a beer. If he was the kind of guy that went to bars, that is. But what’s really getting to him is how every set of male eyes in the building follow you wherever you go. They’re like bees to honey to the way you walk around with that sweet smile, swinging your hips. He wants to wrap his coat around you and haul you out over his shoulder so no other man can see you. But you aren’t his, so he needs to play it cool.
“Sure, honey. Another martini, dry.” Hollis barely spares you a glance and wave of her fingers before going back to drooling over Rafe.
She’s sitting in the chair next to him but she has it pulled so close she might as well be in his fucking lap. Her heel clad foot swings back and forth, hitting his calf every few passes and you want to break it off. She rests her chin on her folded hands as she gazes over at him with the biggest fuck me eyes you think you’ve ever seen.
“And a Coors Light for you, right? In the can.” You let your eyes flash from Rafe’s to his lips for just a split moment before locking eyes with him again. You wet your bottom lip with your tongue and then pull it between your teeth and Rafe has to literally stop himself from groaning at the sight. Hollis hasn’t solicited a single reaction out of his body the entire night, but every time he looks at you his cock gets just a little bit harder. His plan is completely backfiring on him.
“Yeah, thanks, angel.” The nickname catches you both off guard. It makes his eyes blow wide as he takes in a deep breath through his nose. He’s been holding that back for some time now but it’s true, you are an angel. Your bright eyes, the way you care for him and that little tattoo. A naughty little angel with horns, that is. And even though your insides are melting, you paint on a smug smirk, not backing down from this fight.
“You got it, babe.” You throw him a wink, just catching the way his eyes widen slightly before flicking your hair over your shoulder and turning on your heel toward the bar. You make sure to swing your hips extra because you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you. You love knowing you’re getting to him, maybe not as much as he does to you. But you’re getting a reaction and that fills you with pride you shouldn’t feel.
You make Hollis’ martini without hardly even looking, most drinks have become second nature to you after working here for three years. You peak over at Rafe after grabbing his beer and you immediately see red. Hollis has her leg thrown over his lap while she presses her tits against his big arm that you want to latch onto with your teeth and never let go. Rafe looks half interested in what she’s saying, at least. Especially when he looks over at you and fucking smirks. Yeah, you’re gonna ruin his fucking night. What if he plans on bringing her home? You don’t think you can stand to hear him fucking her from down the hall. Even the thought makes you want to puke and you wonder if that’s how he felt the other night.
That might be wishful thinking though. You paint on your sweetest smile and walk back over to their table, placing their drinks on the table. You make sure to lean over Rafe close enough that your tits graze his other arm. A silent display of possession that nobody but Rafe notices.
“Here’s your drinks, enjoy!” You turn like you’re going to walk away before quickly turning back around. “Actually, I meant to ask, how long will you be here? I kind of need a ride home.”
“He’s busy, I’m sure you can find someone else to take you ho-” Hollis tries to shoo you away but Rafe cuts her off, pushing his chair back enough that her leg falls from his lap.
“When are you off?” Hollis scoffs and detaches herself from him, sitting back in her seat. Thank god. You can’t help the small smirk you send her way.
“In an hour, I’m not closing tonight.” Your eyes lock with Rafe’s crystal blue ones and you can tell he knows what you’re doing. Yet you don’t care. And he’s still letting you do it, so. “If you don’t mind hanging around until then.”
“Actually, I was thinking about heading out soon.” Hollis shoots you a look before resting her red manicured hand on Rafe’s bicep as she looks over at him almost desperately. Pathetic. “You wanna come to my place? Have a glass of wine, get cozy?”
“I would, but I think it’s best I make sure she gets home safe.” Rafe barely spares her a glance while he shuts her down and she visibly deflates. You would feel bad if you didn’t want to rip each one of her thickly mascara lined eyelashes out of her head.
“Aww, really?” Hollis pouts as she tips her head to the side to try and get Rafe to look at her but he doesn’t. His eyes stay on you. “I think we will have a good time, I’m sure she can find another ride, can’t you?” She looks at you like you’re going to be her wingman and take one for the team or something. Too bad you don’t feel like sharing. Even if he isn’t yours and probably never will be. He’s not going to rub it in your face at your place of work.
“Actually, my ride fell through.” You cross your arms to push your tits up and set your lips into a pout. Rafe feels like he’s going to fucking lose it any second. You never ask him for help, so he knows you're jealous and it’s making his cock uncomfortably hard. “I can probably swing an uber if you’re busy though.”
“No. I’m taking you home with me.” With him. You like the sound of that. “Go do your stuff. I’ll wait.”
“I know what you were doing in there, I’ve been around the block a few times, little girl.” Rafe grits at you as pulls out of the bar parking lot. He waited for you to get off. Hollis left before he did, not without asking him to go home with her again, of course.
“And I know what you were doing in there, old man. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m oblivious.” You roll your eyes and put your doc’s up on his dash. It makes him groan as he reaches over to knock them back down. “Umm, rude.”
“I’m rude? And ruining my date isn’t?” Rafe scoffs.
“Oh, don’t play dumb. You didn’t want to be on that date and we both fucking know it, Rafe.” You roll your eyes and shake your head and Rafe really wishes he wasn’t driving right now so he could finally spank that attitude out of you. He has half a mind to pull over but he has to keep reminding himself you’re not his. “You would have never gone there if I didn’t work there, don’t act like that wasn’t why. Don’t pretend you didn’t want to see my reaction.”
“She asked to go there, you’re just overthinking it.” Rafe shakes his head as he turns onto the main road toward his neighborhood.
“No. If I was overthinking it, you would’ve left with her and not me. Don’t try to make me feel like I’m making shit up in my head, you were blindingly obvious about it.” His big hands tighten on the steering wheel causing the veins to pop out. You want to slobber all over them and feel them inside you. “You were trying to make me jealous and it worked, so what now?”
“Now? Nothing.” Rafe chuckles dryly and you can see his jaw tense. “We go home, you go to bed and I’ll do the same. Nothing can happen and you know that.”
“But you aren’t saying you don’t want it to.” You press the issue, you aren’t letting it go that easily.
“God damn it.” Rafe breathes out through his nose and says your name sternly. “Stop. Just stop. This can’t be a thing. No more of this shit that happened tonight. We go back to coexisting the way we should and if I want to go on dates you’re just going to have to get over that because you are my son’s fucking girlfriend, jesus.”
“Yeah, whatever, tell yourself that all you want.” You lean back in your seat with your arms crossed, turning away from him to look out the window. “You know it’s more than that but go ahead and keep lying to yourself.”
“It’s what I have to do, okay?!” Rafe snaps and slams his hand on the steering wheel before regaining his control. He runs his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath. He isn’t the guy that loses his temper at the drop of a hat anymore but you’re so god damn frustrating it makes him feel like he’s going insane. “Now please, just let it go.”
“Fine. But I know you feel this thing between us.” You laugh dryly, your throat feeling tight from rejection even if you know you’re right. “But I’ll drop it and let you live in your little land of denial.”
“Thank you.” Rafe sighs and you both fall silent for the remainder of the drive, only the sound of the local rock station playing quietly in the background.
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You curse under your breath as you toss your keys down on the table by the door and rip your coat from your body. All the other times Caleb has forgotten to pick you up were just mildly annoying in comparison to this. Considering it’s your fucking birthday. You don’t think he even remembers. He didn’t say anything to you this morning before you left for your day shift and he hasn’t texted you all day. He did say he would pick you when you managed to momentarily wake him up though. You hoped maybe he had a surprise planned for you when you got off but you aren’t even sure why you let the thought cross your mind. It feels like he doesn’t even care about you anymore.
As much as Rafe wants to deny that there’s something between you, he gives you more attention than your own boyfriend. Caleb was out all night, so, was he passed out hungover this morning. But when you went downstairs there were doughnuts and coffee from your favorite bakery sitting on the kitchen counter. There was a pink balloon tied to the coffee and a little note in front of it that read “Happy Birthday, angel. -R.C.”
Rafe was already gone for work when you woke up so you haven’t had a chance to thank him yet. You hate that you’re more excited for him to be home than you are to see Caleb. You know he’s here somewhere because his car is out front, you assume he’s upstairs gaming with his headset on and his phone on silent. Or he’s asleep. You sigh deeply as you walk over to the box of doughnuts still sitting on the counter and pull one from the box. You take a bite before looking out the kitchen window and when you do you nearly choke.
Caleb isn’t gaming, and he’s not asleep. But he is out back in the hot tub with his “friend” Jessica. Ass naked. Fucking her from behind with her top half bent over the ledge. You feel like you’re going to be sick as you watch her mouth fall open in pleasure. Caleb pulls her hair, yanking her head back before you watch him land a smack on her ass as he fucks her roughly from behind. He’s never fucked you like that. It was always so vanilla and lackluster. Watching him fuck her like you’ve asked him to fuck you a thousand times is like a knife to your heart. Tears prickle the rims of your eyes But you don’t want to cry because you’re sad, no, you’re fucking pissed. You slam your hand down on the counter in frustration, crushing the glazed treat you’re still holding against the marble. You take a deep breath, readying yourself, and then you walk out the back door.
“Well, isn’t this just fucking rich.” You chuckle dryly as you walk across the back patio to the hot tub and Caleb and Jessica’s eyes flash toward you, their movements halting. “You know, you’ve gotten me some pretty shit presents over the years, Caleb. But being so balls deep in some other bitch that you forget my birthday entirely really takes the fucking cake.”
“Babe!” Caleb backs away from Jessica with his eyes blown wide, pulling out of her and leaving her to stand there trying to cover herself. “It’s not -”
“It’s not what it looks like, really Caleb?” You scoff and you can’t even help but laugh. “You’re a fucking idiot. There’s no talking your way out of being a cheating fucking whore when I saw it with my own two eyes.”
“Hey! Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t -” Jessica’s voice is strained and nervous as she pulls herself from the hot tub and reaches for her clothes that are discarded on the ground.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch. You know exactly what you did. Everyone in your little friend group knows me and Caleb are together. Don’t disrespect me by lying to my face.”
You take a few hurried steps towards her and she flinches, making a smirk spread across your lips. Good. She should be scared. She’s lucky Caleb isn’t worth an assault charge. You send your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend a glare. “How long?”
“Since the ski trip…” His head hangs low between his shoulders and you can’t believe he has the audacity to be pouting right now. But he’s always been selfish.
“Oh? So this has been going on for weeks? And I bet all your little friends knew, huh?” Caleb opens his mouth to answer but you cut him off. “Were you all just sitting around laughing, knowing I was oblivious? You disgust me.”
“Babe -”
“I’m not your fucking babe! Shut up! I’m tired of hearing your god damn voice, Caleb!” You shriek and stomp your foot in frustration.
“Whoa, what the hell is going on out here?” The sound of Rafe’s voice sends an icy hot chill all through your body. God, how much of that did he see?
“Dad, don’t worry about it. Just go inside, this is none of your business.” Rafe loves his son with all his heart and even if Caleb doesn’t realize it, everything he’s done in his life has been for him. But right now? He has never been more disappointed in his entire life.
Rafe didn’t see everything but he got home around the time you were calling Caleb a cheating whore. That combined with the fact that there was a random girl scrambling to put her clothes on while his son stands naked in the hot tub doesn’t make it hard to tell what is happening.
“There’s yelling going on in my house, I think that’s my business.” Rafe is almost at a loss for words. He feels frozen. He would never abandon Caleb but the fact that he did this to you fills him with rage. The fact that he took you for granted was one thing, but cheating on you? It makes his blood boil. If it were anyone else they’d be getting their ass beat right now.
“I think I’m just going to go.” All three of their heads whip towards you at your words. Rafe looks distressed, Jessica looks guilty as hell and Caleb has a mixture of both painted on his face.
“No, you stay. I’ll feel like shit knowing you’re sleeping on your sister's couch when you’ve been pulling my weight around here anyways.” Caleb pulls himself out of the hot tub and pulls his swim trunks on before walking toward you. It makes you take a step back.
“You can stay with me, if you need.” Jessica squeaks out and it makes you belly laugh. You really are such a fucking joke.
“You don’t have to leave, either of you. We can work something out.” Rafe looks over at his son, so fucking disappointed in him but he doesn’t love him any less and he doesn’t want him to leave. But he really doesn’t want you to leave either, he’s really come to love you. Well, he loves having you around. He doesn’t love you, he can’t. But god the longer he’s around you he wants to love you so badly. Especially right now, he can see you shaking from here. He can see the angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes and he hates it. He wants to grab you, pull you into his chest, and protect you from the world.
“I won’t force her to be around me after this, dad.” Caleb sighs as he pinches his nose before locking eyes with you. “Just stay here, okay? I want you to stay where you have space. You seem happier here. I’m going to go get some stuff to get me through a couple days and I’ll come back for the rest later on. Come on Jessica, we’re leaving.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry I never meant for you to find out like this.” Jessica sends you an apologetic look.
“Ha! I don’t give a fuck about your apology, bitch. Get out of my sight before I beat your ass.” You take a threatening step toward her and she hurriedly runs toward the back door with Caleb in tow. He sends you another sad glance before walking inside, leaving you alone with Rafe.
“God, what the fuck just happened!?” You let out an aggressive deep breath as you flop down on one of the patio chairs. You groan and throw your head back, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Are you okay?” The sound of Rafe’s voice inches from you makes you jump as your eyes shoot toward him. He’s crouching in front of the chair with a concerned look on his face and god, you want to jump into his lap and have him hold you so badly. Even when Caleb literally cheats on you, you can’t get these thoughts of Rafe out of your head. If anything they’re just increasing by the second.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You should go check on Caleb, tell him he doesn’t have to go.” You clear your throat to stop the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Once I calm down a bit I’ll go get my shit together and get out of your hair.”
“No.” Rafe’s voice is stern but not angry and your entire body heats when he rests his big hands on your knees so you’ll look at him. “I don’t want you to leave. I love my son so damn much but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed in him right now. I’ll never force him to leave but if he wants to go, I think maybe it’s for the best right now.”
“Yeah, but even if he leaves there’s no reason for me to be here if he and I aren’t together, Rafe.” You sniffle, wiping your nose and under your eyes with your hoodie sleeve. You refuse to let him see you cry.
“There is a reason, doll.” Rafe squeezes your knees slightly in a comforting manner as he looks up at you so sincerely you could almost melt. “I want you here. I like having you here. Not just because you help out around the house or because you make delicious food. I like you, I like your presence and being around you. I don’t like to talk much, I can’t stand small talk, but it comes easy with you.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Rafe. You have no obligation to me, I can’t just freeload off of you.” You sigh and Rafe can’t help it, he glances toward the house to see if Caleb is looking but the blinds are closed so he leans up on his knees and takes your face in his hands.
“I know I’m not fuckin’ obligated but I want to help you. I want you here, please?” Rafe’s voice breaks at the end and he hates that he sounds so desperate. But that desperation tells you all you need to know. He’s saying it without saying it. Rafe wants you. And now that Caleb gave you the ultimate fuck you, what’s really holding you back from having him aside from your own moral compass? He’s still Caleb’s dad. On the other hand though? Fuck Caleb and his feelings.
“Okay. I’ll stay.” Your voice is small and you swallow deeply as Rafe continues to hold your face in his big, calloused hands.
“That’s my girl.” Rafe grins at you and places a kiss on your forehead and for a second you forget who Caleb even is. He’s never touched you this much and now you never want him to stop. You want to feel his lips and hands on every inch of your body. “Sit tight, okay? I’m gonna go make sure Caleb is okay and see if he needs any help.”
You sigh and look up at the sky. The sun is setting, kissing the tops of the trees as the cold midwinter wind whips through your hair. You’d probably be freezing in your little work outfit if you weren’t so filled with adrenaline. Are you really gonna stay here with Caleb’s dad? Especially when you know how badly you want him? You know the answer is yes, against your better judgement. You’ve tried to push your feelings down, tell yourself they were based on loneliness and circumstance. But the fact that you just watched Caleb cheat on you and you were more sad about the fact that you’ll have to move away from Rafe is very telling.
You want Rafe. You want his kind gestures. You want the banter you have when you order take ou and watch cheesy horror movies on nights you were left alone. You want the way his lips look extra plush and the way his mullet looks all messy when he first wakes up. You want the possessiveness and the protectiveness. You want to jump his bones when he gets home in his work clothes all covered in mud. You want to eat dinner and shower together and fuck before bed. You want him to fuck you on every inch of this house actually. You want him so bad you can’t even deny it anymore. You want him so bad it almost hurts.
You let yourself sit with that information until you hear the front door shut and Caleb’s car pull out of the driveway. You’re finally starting to get cold so you take a deep breath and push yourself up from the chair to face the music.
As you approach the back door you realize the lights in the kitchen are off, which is odd for this time of day. Did Rafe go to bed to avoid having to interact with you? You wouldn’t blame him, part of you wants the same. You just want to sink in bed and sleep for a week. But when you open the door your hand flies to your mouth with a gasp.
The room is illuminated by candles that are lit on top of the prettiest cake. It’s shaped like a heart with pink and white frosting and your name is in the middle of it, written in pretty, frosted cursive. If that wasn’t enough there’s a little box with a bow sitting next to it and the greatest present of all is the man standing behind them. Rafe still has his navy work shirt with the logo for his company on and he has this lopsided, boyish smile painted on his face that makes your stomach erupt with butterflies. This man is a dream.
“Rafe, I- you did this for me?” Your words nearly get caught in your throat and tears prickle your eyes for an entirely different reason than they have all night. “No one has ever… No one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”
“I know. That’s why I did it.” Rafe smiles at you sweetly as he scratches the side of his neck before running his hands through his hair. “Don’t go getting all teary eyed on me before you even open your gift, angel.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything…” Your voice is barely a whisper and you hardly trust it as you approach the counter and pick up the little box. At first glance you’d think it was jewelry but when you pull off the bow and open it up there’s a keyfob inside. “What is? Rafe, you did not buy me a car!”
“No, yeah, I did.” Rafe chuckles and comes around the other side of the counter to stand no more than a foot away from you. “You deserve it.”
“Rafe, I can’t accept this. You have to take it back.” You push the box toward him but he just stops your hand, pushing it back toward your chest.
“Well, I’m not taking it back. So if you don’t drive it, it’s just going to sit in the garage collecting dust.” He splays his hand across your chest, holding the key and your hand in his larger one as he looks down at you almost lovingly. It fills your heart with hope you’ve been refusing to let in. Rafe tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple. “Let me do this for you.”
You can’t help it, you throw yourself into his arms with a squeal and he catches you easily with an arm around your waist. You’re tired of denying yourself his touch, it is your birthday, after all. Rafe chuckles and squeezes you to his chest before setting you on your feet in front of the cake.
“Make a wish, birthday girl.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his chin against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world and you know exactly what you’re going to wish for. More of this. More of him. For as long as he will have you. You lean forward and blow out the candles before letting your body rest against Rafe’s with your head tilted back so you can look up at him. “What did you wish for?”
“Can’t tell you, it won’t come true.” You giggle and spin around in his arms and he takes your face in his hands. Rafe thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world and he can’t pretend he doesn’t anymore. He needs you. He wants to kiss you so bad and you surprise the hell out of him by throwing your arms around his shoulders and smashing your lips against his own.
The kiss starts off tender, almost nervous. But it quickly turns heated when his big hands grip onto your waist and pull you flush against him. He groans against your mouth and you use it as an opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his. You stand there making out, your hands wandering any part of each other they can reach. Rafe’s hands slip lower and slide just under the bottom hem of your skirt, grazing your ass. You
bite down on his bottom lip and Rafe pulls back to look down at you.
“Fuck, we really shouldn’t…” Rafe breathes out through his nose and bites his lip, his actions contradicting his words because his hands travel higher up your skirt and grip onto your ass possessively.
“Do you care?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you grind your stomach against his rock hard cock and scratch the back of his neck with your pointed nails.
“Fuck, not anymore.” Rafe loops his arms around your thighs and you jump up so he can carry you to the couch. He tosses you over the arm and gets on the couch behind you with his legs bracketing yours. He leans over your body so his lips are brushing the shell of your ear. “The first time I fuck you is gonna be in my bed but I’ve been waiting so long to spank that bratty ass and eat that sweet little pussy I need to do it right fucking here.”
Rafe leans back and pushes your little Jean mini skirt up over your ass to reveal the tiniest little pink thong he’s ever seen. He lands a harsh smack on your ass and it causes you to yelp and jolt forward. He gives the other the cheek the same treatment before bringing his hands down on both at once.
“So fucking perfect. Knew you would be, baby.” Rafe runs his fingers over your slit through the lace of your panties, feeling your sticky wetness. “And so fucking wet.”
He gathers some on his fingers before pulling away and marveling at the way it glistens in the low light. He hooks his arm around your neck and holds his fingers to your lips. “Suck.”
You take them into your mouth and swirl your tongue around them, tasting yourself mixed with Rafe’s salty sweat. It shouldn’t taste as good as it does but it makes you hum around his fingers as your eyes roll back.
“Been thinkin’ bout this all day, everyday, since you moved into this house, angel. You’ve been thinking about it too, haven’t you?” Rafe shoves his fingers down your throat causing you to gag as drool pools into your mouth before he pulls them out and spanks your ass with his wet hand, causing it to sting extra.
“Yes, daddy. Everyday. Want you so bad.” You arch your back and wiggle your ass and Rafe feels like he’s going to bust in his pants like a thirteen year old boy.
“Oh, baby, I don’t think you know what you just did.” Rafe chuckles as he grabs onto your thong and pulls it down to your knees, locking them in place. “You want me to be your daddy? Alright. But that means I get to beat this little ass red for the way you’ve been teasing me.”
“Yeah?” You glance over your shoulder at him with that mischievous look you always flash him in your eyes and a naughty little smirk painted on your lips. “Do you fucking worst, daddy.”
Rafe gives you that lopsided grin that makes your stomach do flips before spanking your ass hard. The skin immediately turns red and you don’t have time to process before he spanks you in the same exact spot even harder. He gives the other cheek the same treatment and then rotates back.
“That’s my good little girl.” Rafe rubs your reddened ass and then spanks you again and again. “Not such a brat now, huh? Just needed that attitude beat out of you?”
“I don’t know, I think you might have to fuck it out of me.” You giggle and wiggle your sore ass which only earns you another round of spankings, leaving you a moaning mess. He leans down and bites down hard on your asscheek as two fingers slide through your dripping folds.
“Don’t worry, doll. I’m gonna give you the best dick of your fucking life. But first, I’ve gotta taste this god damn pussy.” Rafe admires the growing bruises and the bite mark on your plump ass before grabbing your cheeks and spreading you open so he can run his tongue along your slit to your pulsing clit.
He swirls his tongue around it a few times before sliding it back down and thrusting it into your hole. Rafe flicks his tongue inside you and hooks his arm around your thigh so you can’t wiggle away.
“Oh, fuck! God, yes, daddy.” You whine and grind back into his face and when his thumb finds your clit you’re embarrassingly close. Your body subconsciously tries to run away from the mind blowing pleasure but Rafe only brings his free hand to the small of your back and uses it to pin your upper half down.
“Quit wiggling and let me devour this pussy, brat. Be a good girl and stay still for daddy, yeah?” Rafe mumbles against your pussy, the vibrations sending your eyes to the back of your skull. “Need you to cum for me, baby.”
Rafe unhooks his arm from your leg so he can thrust two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy while his lips latch onto your clit. He curls his fingers against your sweet spot and rolls his lips around your aching bud and that’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. Pleasure wracks your entire body as you shake beneath him. He sucks and fingers you through your orgasm until you’re over sensitive and your top half is limp with your arms dangling off the arm of the couch.
Rafe leans back to admire you and his cock feels like it’s going to burst. Your hair is cascading over your face as you lay limp across the couch with your ass arched in the air. Your crop top is pushed up showing off the curve of your back. Your butt is red and covered in his hand prints and the bite mark is already starting to bruise. Your little skirt is framing your hips perfectly and your pussy is all puffy and dripping creamy, white.
“I know I said I’d take you to the bed, baby girl, but this pussy just looks so god damn irresistible I’ve gotta have her right now.” You hear the metal of his belt clanking and the sound of his zipper before you feel the fat head of his cock slapping against your ass. He grips his shaft as he runs his tip through your dripping folds and then he uses your wetness to lube his cock. Rafe pumps himself a few times before lining up with your entrance and pushing inside you in one, unforgiving thrust. You both moan in unison as he bottoms out, his balls grazing your clit.
“Oh my god, I’m so full.” You whine as your walls clench around him and Rafe pulls his hips back until only his tip remains before slamming his cock back into you and starting up at a brutal pace. He grips onto your hips and fucks you like a man possessed. He’s entranced by the sight of your ass bouncing back against him while your creamy pussy coats his cock as it swallows him whole over and over again.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. This pussy is so perfect, fuck, even better than I ever could’ve imagined.” One of Rafe’s hands grips onto your throat and pulls you up so your back is flush against his front and the new angle pushes him even deeper inside you, making your pussy flutter around his cock. He grabs your hand with his free one and presses it against our belly where you can feel his cock bulging from inside you. “Feel that? You’re so fuckin’ full of me.”
“Yes, daddy, you’re so fucking big.” You gasp when he slams his hips up into yours so hard the sound echos off the walls and then he pulls almost all the way out and does it again and again, fucking you rough and deep. Rafe squeezes your neck as he pushes up your crop top so he can grope your tits and pinch your pierced nipples.
“Oh, Angel, I’ve just been dying to see these. The way you prance around in those little bikinis has been driving me insane. Let daddy see those pretty tits.” He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. He grips onto your hips and flips you over so you’re straddling him.
Rafe leans back on the couch and runs his hands down your body before tracing up your stomach so he can graze his fingertips over your pert nipples. He circles the little bars that have hearts in the middle with a groan.
“Oh, fuckin’ look at you. Never seen anything more god damn perfect in my life.” Rafe leans forward to take a nipple in his mouth and it makes you cry out.
“In all your years, right, old man?” You giggle when he pulls back with a glare and grips onto your hip so he can lift you onto his cock, the feeling of him filling you again makes you nearly go cross eyed. “You getting tired yet?”
“I thought I fucked that little attitude out of you, huh?” Rafe plants his feet flat on the ground so he can thrust up into you while using his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock. The sight of your tits in his face has him twitching inside you.
“I think it’s gonna take more than once, actually?” You smirk up at him and Rafe is fucking gone. He’s obsessed with you. “Can your old man knees keep up?”
“Baby, it’s so cute that you think I can’t keep up with you.” Rafe flips you onto your back and grips onto the back of your thighs as he kneels on the couch in front of you so he can pound into you harder and deeper than ever. “Rub your pussy for me.”
“Fuck, daddy, I’m so close.” You moan loudly as you bring your finger to your slick clit and rub circles on it. Rafe grips onto your throat and pins you to the couch cushion as he continues to plow into you. “Want you to fill me up, please?”
“Yeah? I’ll give you my cum as soon as you give me one more. Cum for daddy, sugar.” Rafe squeezes your throat as his dick hits your g-spot and your fingers rub your clit just right and it has euphoria washing over your body. Your pussy is like a vice grip around him and the pretty little moans you’re letting out as you come undone for him has Rafe spilling inside you. He doesn’t know if he’s ever cum this much in his life as his cock continues to pulse inside you and fill you with ropes of his cum. You lay pliant beneath him as you look up at him like he hung the stars and it fills him with pride, “Yeah, that’s my good little girl.”
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” You breathe out and saying it outloud feels like the biggest weight off your shoulders. “I’ve wanted you so fucking badly, Rafe.”
“God, baby.” Rafe grabs your face in his hands and runs his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so god damn I’m obsessed with you too. Now that I’ve had you, I never wanna let you go. I’m addicted.”
“Yeah? Well you never have to. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have an attitude and tease you about your old man knees until the end of time.” You giggle when he throws you a playful glare and it makes a wide smile break out onto his face. “But who knows? Maybe I can be tamed one day, looks like you’ll just have to keep fucking me to find out…”
“I think I can manage that, angel, starting now.” Rafe leans down and kisses you sweetly before gripping onto your hips and standing up to throw you over his shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you on every inch of this house, starting with my bed.”
In that moment you think to yourself that maybe sometimes birthday wishes really do come true. You both know shit is complicated, but right now you don’t care. You finally have him, and you’ll figure it out together.
Tagging mooties: @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @sturnioloshacker @eddiesxangel @that-sarcastic-writer @rafesangelita @nemesyaaa @moonlightseranade 🤍
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ If you made it this far, thanks for sticking around for all 13k words!! I put my blood, sweat, tears, pussy, heart, soul into this. I hope you enjoyed !! DILF!Rafe moodboard ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Divider by @anitalenia
#Dolly writes#Rafe Cameron#rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#older!rafe#older!rafe cameron#Rafe smut#rafe Cameron smut#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe x you#rafe obx#rafe fic#dilf!rafe#dilf!Rafe Cameron#I put my whole pussy into this#she long but she worth I hope
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🍨 svt spoiling their partner.
★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful
ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡
🍨 read more?
seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.
jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.
shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.
junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.
soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.
wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.
jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.
seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.
mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.
minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.
seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.
vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.
chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀���ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt smau#seventeen smau#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs#[ need this . Rn . pls ]
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Thank you, @aceinacorner, for this gem:
You are the inspiration for
DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 3]
[<- part 2]
Duke narrows his eyes.
He swears Tim was not in the Cave just five seconds ago, and yet, in the brief moment when Duke wasn't looking, he just materialized out of motherfucking aether. Smelling like Chinese food and holding a chicken skewer that looks so good that Duke's mouth waters.
"Can I have a piece?" He asks, the divine smell of food overriding the urge to ask 'where did you get it' or 'how did you get here'.
Tim nods, smiles, and hands Duke the whole skewer before going for the elevator.
Is it Duke's hallucination, or is he really humming something as he goes?.. Actually, that doesn't matter. The chicken tastes even better than it smells, and Duke is perfectly willing to keep his mouth shut in exchange for food.
You don't talk with your mouth full, after all.
~☆~
Cass watches Tim over the table. She hasn't heard him coming into the dinner room - no steps in the hall, no rustle of clothing or breathing. It's like the boy has somehow appeared right in front of the door out of nowhere before entering.
What's more, he seems obviously not hungry, picking at his food with an absent, if a bit dreamy, expression. Granted, Tim always picks at his food, but Cass can see the difference between 'Tim's mind is busy with a new case and therefore too distracted to eat' and 'Tim already had dinner elsewhere and is too full to eat now'.
The bags under his eyes are also not as dark as they usually are. Come to think of it, Cass hasn't seen him in a bad mood for a few weeks now, which shouldn't really be that strange, but it's Tim. The smallest of inconveniences can put him in a bad mood.
Tim notices her looking and raises an eyebrow.
Cass blinks and goes back to her plate. Whatever is keeping her brother happy, it deserves her full approval.
~☆~
Jason is... not so sure as to what is happening.
He did notice that Tim was really chill lately, but this is going a bit overboard.
"Did you spike it with arsenic, Replacement?" He asks, suspiciously looking the offered cup of coffee over without taking it. Tim - surprisingly, actually - doesn't react to the nickname in the slightest, instead giving Jason a deadpan look. Then, he brings the cup up to his mouth, takes a sip, and hands it back again.
Okay, well, that proves no arsenic, at least. It's still very weird. Tim doesn't just buy coffee for people, and he especially doesn't buy coffee for Jason.
"Am I going to owe you something for it, or what?" He asks, slowly reaching for the cup. Tim sighs.
"No. It's just a drink - my boyfriend loves it, and I think you'd like it as well," he explains with a shrug, and Jason is honestly too befuddled to ask about anything. Including the boyfriend part.
No, but since when does Timbers have a boyfriend? He sure hadn't mentioned anything about it to any of the others.
The drink turns out to be not coffee but something else, tangy and thick, and when Jason takes the lid off, it's green like Mountain Dew.
It does taste great, though, and later Jason considers asking Tim for another one. He hadn't had anything better in ages.
~☆~
Damian strikes through the last one of the training holograms, breathing heavily. And yet, just as the 'simulation complete' message pops up in the air, he hears a step behind him.
He turns around faster than a lightning, and-
Finds Timothy's neck at the tip of his katana, with his hands up in surrender.
"What are you doing here?" Damian sneers, lowering his weapon, and Tim swallows. Not because of surprise or fear, though, he clearly had some half chewed up food in his mouth.
"Inaccurate drop off," he says, looking Damian straight in the eyes, "I was aiming for the main floor."
He smells of Indian food and spices, and Damian almost sneezes.
"What do you mean 'aiming'?" He demands, but Drake just waves him off, heading towards the elevator up.
"No worries, I'll do better next time," he shoots a smile over his shoulder, "See you on patrol!" And with that, the elevator doors close after him, leaving Damian alone.
Drake has always been strange, but this is too much even for him.
Not that it's Damian's business. He huffs and starts the simulation over again.
~☆~
If Dick didn't witness it with his own two eyes, he would have never believed it. Alas, he did, and even though the swirling green vortex has already disappeared like it was never there, Tim, whom the strange portal just spat out on the floor of the Cave, is still here.
"What the fuck was that?" He nearly yells, and Tim looks up, a face of perfect innocence.
"What was what?" He returns the question, and Dick can't find the words to explain, so he just wildly gestures to the place where the portal has been less than five seconds ago. Tim blinks, "Oh, that. That was my date."
Dick chokes on his breath.
"Your date?" He parrots, hoarse and breathless, and Tim nods, like there's not a single thing wrong with anything that has just happened. "Since when do you go on dates? Wait, I thought you were engaged, you said it was cheating to date anyone else, even if you didn't know the spouse, you said-" he cuts himself off, feeling his own face slowly falling and his stomach sinking down in horror. "No. No, don't tell me."
But the shit-eating grin on Tim's face is already proof enough.
Dick clears his throat. Takes a deep breath.
Seeing that Tim is still in one piece, and, well, that he did just casually come out of a magic portal in the middle of the Cave, it's probably safe to say that it's not the first time.
And, judging by the mirth in Tim's grin, it's also safe to say he's been rather enjoying it.
Dick releases one long, loud breath and forces a smile on his face as well.
"So, how is it?" He asks, trying in vain to sound light-hearted, not suspicious. Tim's smile gets wider, and there's a glint of excitement in his eyes now, which Dick considers a good thing, all in all.
"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."
~☆~
Bonus Scene (that somehow turned out longer than I planned)
~☆~
"Where's Tim?" Bruce asks when all the rest of his kids are already seated around the table for breakfast.
"At Danny's, probably," Steph shrugs before digging into the waffles on her plate. Bruce frowns.
"Danny's?" He asks. He hasn't heard that name before. Is that a friend of Tim's?
"Drake's paramour," Damian clarifies, not bothering to look up from his own food, and Bruce's mind comes to a screeching halt. He blinks stupidly, looking around the table and sincerely hoping it is some sort of a prank, but Cass smiles and nods, and Dick has an expression of pure exhaustion on his face, and Duke is huffing a snort of laughter at him for it.
"Since when-" Bruce starts, but he is suddenly cut off by a glowing circle that appears just a few feet away from them all.
It grows quickly, morphing into a vortex, a green and ominous tear in reality big enough for a person to walk through, hanging in the air a few inches over the ground. The space around it feels staticky somehow, and the color is too bright to look at directly, and it definitely doesn't belong to their dining room. But before Bruce is able to say another word or do anything at all, Tim steps out of it, his hair and clothes ruffled.
"Oh, fuck," he mutters upon seeing them all, and turns around, sticking his head into the vortex just as it starts to close. The vortex pauses.
Bruce is almost too stunned to move.
His kids don't share the sentiment, though, most of them not paying the portal any attention at all. Bruce would have reprimanded them for the poor awareness of their surroundings if he didn't notice how Damian simply glanced up at it before going back to his food.
They saw the portal. They just didn't deem it dangerous. For some reason.
Tim's face comes back out, and he turns to Bruce. His expression looks different than before: a bit smug, a little mischievous, and just a tad bit nervous.
Then, another head pops up through the surface of the portal. A boy - or at least they look like a boy - with snow white hair that floats in the air and bright, almost neon blue eyes. His skin is far too pale for him to be human, and- he has freckles that look like constellations.
For some reason, that's the part that makes Bruce finally resign to the fact that this is just how his life is. With breakfasts interrupted by green portals and otherworldly boyfriends - because who else might it be, really - before he even had his morning coffee.
"Hi!" Said otherworldly boyfriend grins and waves his hand. "I'm Danny, Tim's fiance," he introduces himself, and Bruce conjures the last scraps of his scattered mind to smile and nod back.
"Good morning, Danny. I'm Bruce." He has no idea what else to say; it seems like a bit late for shovel talk, but a bit early for welcoming speech.
"Would Young Master Danny care to join us for breakfast?" Alfred's calm, but still slightly amused voice comes from the door. Bruce turns to look at the butler with a sense of exasperation - is he really the last one to learn anything in this house? - but the man seems... well, not surprised, at least not on the surface. But his grip on the pitcher of orange juice is just a little too tense for him to have been in the know all along.
Danny turns to him and smiles nicely - his teeth are also way too sharp for a human - before shaking his head, "No, sorry, I was just dropping Tim off."
"For God's sake," Tim rolls his eyes, "Just put on some pants and come out, I refuse to suffer through this alone."
Dick chokes on his toast. Steph gasps, her eyes snapping between Tim and Danny in delight. Cass snorts and kicks her under the table. Damian groans.
"Spare me from the details of your personal life, Drake. Need I remind you that I am thirteen," he narrows his eyes.
The constellations on Danny's cheeks shine just a bit brighter, and Bruce has no idea what that is supposed to mean, but his guess is along the lines of embarrassment. Especially when the boy completes it with rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"You mean to tell me that, at thirteen years old, you don't know what sex is?" Tim deadpans, running a hand through his hair in a useless effort to smooth it and taking his seat at the table. Dick's coughing fit comes back with renewed force.
"We didn't-" Danny starts, still kind of hovering midway through the portal, but Damian pays him little attention.
"I do. Yet, I prefer my mind free of the knowledge when it applies to you."
"I want all the details, though," Steph pipes up, looking at Danny from her seat, "Can you, like, sprout tentacles or something, because I know for a fact Tim likes that kind of-"
"Steph!" Tim yells at her, face red, and then turns to Danny, who suddenly has a very interested, if a bit mischievous, look on his face, "Don't you dare."
"Yeah, okay," Danny snorts and disappears back in the portal. Bruce half-expects it to close after him, but the vortex stays.
Which probably means the boy - the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, Eyes of the Universe - is going to be right back.
After he puts on some pants, supposedly.
Bruce watches Tim rub his face in frustration while Steph giggles and elbows him in the side, and sighs. This is so not how he expected this morning to be.
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#tim drake#batfam#batman#duke thomas#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#dick grayson#jason todd#damian wayne#bruce wayne#cork writes#cork prompts#ring of rage#i did not expect this to turn into series#and yet#here we are#btw yes that was ectoplasm that tim gave to jason#also no they did not fuck#yet#they just cuddled#i stand by tim being a monster fucker hc#steph has seen him read way too much manga with tentacles#dick likes danny#he just doesnt like the idea of tim dating#its his baby brother goddamnit#bruce is just done#dead tired
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MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙────────୨ৎ───────˙⋆✮
My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs
♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)
nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader
hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.
♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)
rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader
in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.
♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)
ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader
you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.
♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk
student plug!jk x rich girl!reader
You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no
♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk
jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader
getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.
♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk
idol!jk x (f)actress!reader
it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma
♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay
biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader
There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)
Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!
What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?
♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku
dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)
you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.
♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku
nerd!jk x popular!fem reader
it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.
♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku
bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash
dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)
a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.
♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash
friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook
you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.
♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash
Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook
you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind
♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash
neighbor!jk x Reader
jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?
♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash
friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)
just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.
♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash
hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader
you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.
♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk
older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)
in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.
♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk
dad!jungkook x f. reader
this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk
dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)
you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you
♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu
Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??
you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.
♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu
popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader
everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?
♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg
Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!
after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy
♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg
ex!au jungkook x ex!reader
Co- parenting
♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg
ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader
♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116
Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk
A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason
♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116
f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)
You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?
♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3
biker!jk x reader
It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.
♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis
boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader
Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3
Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)
That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!
♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj
best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)
In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk
dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)
every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.
♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild
College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)
You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild
housemate!Jungkook x Reader
Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.
♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive
basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)
jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie
dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk
loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.
oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate
♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie
fem!oc x dealer!jjk
always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.
after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.
♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities
grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader
Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare
dilf!jungkook x fem!reader
Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.
♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro
dilf!jungkook x reader
A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk
♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook
Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)
there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.
♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook
friend!Jk x reader
jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.
♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover
bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader
Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.
♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok
bodyguard!Jk x Reader
❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜
♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep
bodyguard!jk, idol!reader
when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.
♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)
Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)
When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.
♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife
roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)
You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help
♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut
bestfriend!Jk x Reader
You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.
♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut
Piercer!Jungkook x Reader
You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.
─────────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────
Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗
♥︎— SAFEWORD
daddy!jungkook and sub oc
♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD
gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader
♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK
idol!Jk x gf!Reader
♥︎—MILK AND CREAM
sub!JKx noona!Reader
♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET
highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader
♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES
friendnemie!Jk x Reader
♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA
needy JK x reader
♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS
roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc
♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING
DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc
♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX
idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING
possessive bf! JK x Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)
Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader
♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM
bf!jk x gf reader
by @redcherrykook
That's it for part1 !
#Jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#bts smut#bts fic#jungkook series#jungkook oneshot#Jungkook uni au#jungkook frenemies#jungkook x oc#jungkook x original character#dilf jungkook#jungkook smau#jjk#jungkook#bts#bts army#jungkook fic recs#yandere jungkook#mafia jungkook#bodyguard jungkook#nerd jungkook#hybrid jungkook
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the christmas waltz ❀ s. reid x reader
in which your toddler is finally old enough to partake in christmas too, and spencer is determined for it to be perfect.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: girl dad!spencer. gentle parenting... she throws a tantrum. or two. authors own christmas traditions forced upon this unsuspecting reid!family. not sorry. word count: 1.2k a/n: happy girl dad!spencer to all that freaking celebrate... tweaked the baby reid idea only a little!! first christmas she remembers?
❄︎ advent calendar masterlist
It was feet pattering swiftly against the wood outside your bedroom door that tore you away from your husband. Spencer's hand dropping from your hip as he rolls onto his back, head turning to face the door just as the knob twisted, and in bounded an incredibly excited two-year-old (two and three quarters, as she so incessantly reminds you).
"Daddy! Mommy!" your ecstatic daughter exclaims, and Spencer's quick to hoist her up onto the bed, allowing her to settle into the space now between the two of you on her knees. Or, more accurately, the space she forced you to create. "Come on, come on!"
You share a look with Spencer, eyebrows raised, and he huffs a small laugh, before deciding to play into the tease you no doubt were planning out in your head.
"Where are we going, Darce?"
The two-year-old's lips frown, and she jerks her gaze rapidly between you and Spencer, eyes wide. "What? It's Christmas!" Except, consonants still weren't her best friend, and Christmas sounded closer to Cwimas than anything.
"Christmas?" Spencer turns his head back to you.
"It's Christmas?" you ask him.
"No. That doesn't make sense. We had Christmas last year."
"Yeah. Darcy, are you sure it's Christmas?" you return your gaze to your daughter, who's lower lip is beginning to wobble, for she can't really decipher if you're joking or not.
"But—but last night," she sniffles, eyes wide, and you instantly feel awful, your heart shattering in your chest at the sight.
"We're kidding, Bambi," Spencer replies, clearly feeling as bad as you were, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his lap. "Merry Christmas."
Too easy to please, her face lights back up, and she starts wiggling her hips excitedly in his lap, speaking far too quickly for either of you to decipher properly. The verbal stumbling over 'stockings' and 'presents' were all you truly had to determine what she was asking, and Spencer was happily complying.
She took off the second Spencer set her back down on the ground upon entering the living room, clambering onto the couch and almost vibrating with excitement as you take a seat next to her.
"Do you want to go first?" you ask her.
Though, it's a stupid question, for she was taking that as her confirmation to go right ahead, and you didn't have the heart to take her excitement away twice in less than ten minutes that Christmas morning.
You had two key traditions Christmas morning — stockings from Santa before breakfast, family presents after. Spencer had ran through the Christmas morning rules with your toddler when he was tucking her into bed the night before, at an hour that was far too late for her. Getting a near three-year-old to sleep the night before Christmas had proved to be an impossible mission.
It didn't stop the tantrum she threw when she was told to put down the big box shaped present adorning not her name, but your own.
You were barely five minutes into preparing breakfast when you heard the crying begin from the living room, and your head lifted from the croissants you were cutting open.
Spencer was crouched down to Darcy's level, his hands resting gently on her hips, as she splutters in front of him, head whipping from side to side to avoid eye contact with him.
"Hey, Darcy, honey," he says, thumbs rubbing circles into her hips. "Why're you crying?" She doesn't reply, and the sight hurts your heart. "Bambi, I need you to tell me what's wrong."
She stammers out something you can't really hear, only picking up the words, 'mommy', 'present' and 'want', but it seems she's speaking a language Spencer understands perfectly, because he translates it back to her.
"You're upset because you want to give mommy her present?"
Darcy nods her head, and despite the miserable atmosphere, your heart warms and your lips tug into a smile.
"We will," he promises. "We've just gotta eat some breakfast first, okay? Gotta get this tummy nice and full so you can have all the energy to watch mommy open it." One of his hands pats her stomach, and you watch as she squirms and lets a giggle out past her otherwise pouty lips. "Was that a giggle?"
At the call-out, she immediately goes back to pouting, "No."
"No?" he parrots. "That's too bad. Only happy girls get to give presents on Christmas Day. Are you not happy?"
You have to watch in awe every time Spencer coaxes your daughter through her meltdowns, because he is just so gentle and so perfect with her, it's almost Earth shattering.
The promise of you opening your present from Darcy (and Spencer) first, and an extra chocolatey hot chocolate with breakfast was enough to calm the two-year-old down enough to eat, and soon enough she was sliding the box with your name on it across the floor to you in the living room once more.
She stumbles behind it, before she climbs onto the couch again, watching you with wide eyes and keen interest.
"Do you like it? Do you like it? Do you like it?" she repeats over and over again before you had even finished tearing the wrapping paper off.
And like it you did.
A scrapbook, complete with the neat signing of Spencer's name on the front, and the scrawl of Darcy's beneath it, a few dozen pictures, and drawings as detailed as a two-year-old could make them on the pages.
"Did you make this?" you turn to her, your eyes (and heart) filled with so much love and warmth you think you might explode.
She nods, excitedly. "At daycare! Daddy helped me keep it a secret."
"Thank you. I love it," you scoop her up into your arms the second she wriggles closer. "I love you, beautiful girl. You're so talented."
Gift exchange was the most exciting part of the morning, and an already overwhelmed toddler being told she couldn't play with her new toys because she needed to get ready to go see her grandparents was akin to taking the entire Christmas holiday away, apparently.
Thus, another tantrum.
Exhausted from trying to keep the girl from collapsing in a fit of screaming and tears, you're finally dressing her, the sparkly red dress she had begged you for falling over her body.
"Did you call your mom?" you ask Spencer from your kneeling position on the floor in front of Darcy, slipping her shoes onto her feet.
"Gran'ma?" Darcy asks, her voice still hoarse from crying.
"Yeah, honey."
"Not yet. I was going to do it tonight once we're home," Spencer replies to you. "So that Darcy can talk to her too."
You tap Darcy's legs once her shoes are on, and she jumps off the couch, bouncing over to Spencer by the front door. "Can I see Gran'ma?" she asks.
"No, Bambi. We're just gonna talk to her on the phone," he shakes his head. "But we're seeing Nan."
"Mommy's mommy?"
You smile for the millionth time that morning.
"Yes, mommy's mommy," he laughs, crouching down in front of her. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes!" she nods, enthusiastically. "Do you like my dress, daddy?"
"I do," he answers. "You look like a princess."
Darcy squeals when he picks her up at the end of his sentence, giggling, and flailing her arms around as he settles her on his hip.
"Bambi princess," she corrects for him, and neither of you have the heart to tell her Bambi's a prince.
Instead, Spencer nods, a serious look on his face as he ponders her words. "Yes. Bambi princess."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia's advent calendar ♡#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fluff
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I viscerally shuddered when they introed our main character shaving her head.
Now, I hate the trope of pro-spacers with long hair. Sure you can wear it up, but anything that's capable of fucking with an air tight seal is just a bad idea. So this hair cut makes a huge amount of sense in this environment.
But I also obsessively remember this one NASA astronaut video that has always stuck with me, explaining that they eat tortillas in space because in microgravity the crumbs from ordinary bread would just utterly fuck air filtration and cooling systems for both life support and other electronics.
Have you ever seen the mess dry shaving like she does actually creates? Not just in the trimmers but the area you're performing this little grooming ritual in. Like I know we're shedding skincells and such all the time, but there's a difference between stuff you can't help and deliberately making it worse.
I know she's in synthetic gravity in a fantasy game, but it's just one of Those Niggles for me.
That aside, the moment you see that lack of hair, you just know what the pissant fuckboys are going to say.
Then the devs really go to town. Not only is this character a woman with a #0 cut, she's androgynous as fuck bordering on butch, and almost certainly biracial. I didn't see any evidence pointing to it other than blatant angry stereotyping and the Pet Shop Boys but she's probably going to be queer too even if just optionally so.
And she's assertive. Or bratty. The puppy-dog-eyed soda suck is a thin line.
That the only other person in the trailer is a cranky woman with an eye patch who's Too Old For Your Shit but sure, fuck around you dumb kid? The Devs clearly either have no fucks to give or a strangely optimistic opinion of the ability of people to tell the fuck boy press which abyss to go jump into.
It goes without saying that you Shouldn't Read the Comments. Unless you want to feel like beating people with a brick over their casually self-centered misogyny and racism about character relatability, self-identification, and who is allowed to have it
If you haven't seen the trailer:
youtube
Intergalactic: The Heretic Prophet is that rarest of things, a brand-new sci-fi IP. Players will be transported to a world set thousands of years in the future, into the role of Jordan A. Mun. A dangerous bounty hunter who ends up stranded on Sempiria – a distant planet whose communication with the outside universe went dark hundreds of years ago. Jordan will have to use all her skills and wits if she hopes to be the first person in over 600 years to leave its orbit.
I made this same joke in my head with Sonic but Crash Bandicoot is the superior joke.
#warrior women#intergalactic#the heretic prophet#computer games#jordan a. mun#well why would a woman exist if not as object for fuck#what a strange question#is op trying to say women are -people-? that would be crazy surely#Youtube
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NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4
↳pt.5
christmas special
part one - part two - part three - part four
summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.
og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.
listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!
words : 3334
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.
“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.
“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”
I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.
Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”
“How did you know Lily fancied you?”
His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.
“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”
Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”
“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.
Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”
“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.
He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”
“Okay bye Oscar!”
He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”
I hang up on him.
⋆༺
Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!
After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.
The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”
I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”
He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”
I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.
“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”
“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”
He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”
“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”
I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”
⋆༺
you
I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?
I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.
We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.
He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.
My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”
“Let go of me you vermin!”
“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.
“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.
“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.
Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.
We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.
Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.
I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.
I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.
“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.
“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.
He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”
“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.
“I’m familiar with the area.”
I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.
“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.
I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”
“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”
I smile, “I adore you, P.”
The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.
P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.
She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.
“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.
“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.
I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.
“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.
“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.
“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”
I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”
“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.
He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.
I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?
The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”
He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”
“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.
“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”
“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.
“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”
“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.
“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.
I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?
He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”
“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”
“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.
“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”
P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.
They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.
“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.
“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.
“Please, Lan?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.
I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.
He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.
He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.
“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”
“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.
He’s five drinks in I think.
“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.
Linger, by the cranberries.
My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.
The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”
It was my favorite song in highschool.
He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.
Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.
Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.
Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.
Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.
P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.
Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”
“I can drive back.” I sit up.
Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.
He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.
“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.
“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.
I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.
Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.
Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.
His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.
And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.
“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.
“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.
I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.
He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.
His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”
“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”
He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”
“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”
He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.
“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.
We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.
Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.
“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.
I raise a brow, “Sure.”
“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.
“I don’t hate you.”
It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.
We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.
Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”
I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”
“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”
“You have no shirt on.”
“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.
I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.
“The doors locked.”
His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.
“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.
He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”
It’s the first time his words really hit me.
“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.
“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.
⋆༺
There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.
Max is staring at us with his mouth open.
Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!
I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.
He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.
“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.
“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”
“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”
“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.
“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.
He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”
I think he might still be drunk.
Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.
“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.
“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.
“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.
Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”
“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”
I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”
Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”
“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”
“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.
“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.
“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris series#lando norris fluff#lando x you#f1 christmas#christmas fanfic
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Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏
Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.
• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:
• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.
• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:
• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.
Also I love this review:
• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)
The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .
• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...
• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.
• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)
• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.
• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.
The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.
Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)
• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)
(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")
• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.
• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:
• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."
• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:
I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.
#ask#book recs#i know i've made some of these sound barely readable but it would be risky to oversell them#it's funny how indignant i felt when i first thought that saint-glinglin didn't exist in english translation even though objectively it#wouldn't have been a huge loss and i don't think english speakers are clamouring for more crustacean existentialism after sartre's lobsters#but they should get to choose not to read this book!
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I had been (sorta) (kinda) (maybeeeeee) running a cult out of my ranch for years now. It was going pretty well I’d say! It was small but that made it inconspicuous. It was generating plenty of money for me and nobody cared enough about the run down ranch a few miles outside of town that the stranger individuals would visit frequently.
We had just finished up the usual “sacrifice” of a rat, a stringy thing I decided to put out of its misery after seeing it in a pathetic little tank in the store, when a blinding light emerged from its carcass. It was this odd grayish green color. Reminiscent of a rather painful turd or some especially stinky vomit.
Of course every religion needs a figurehead. I’d found some random God in an old history textbook from my mythology class. I’d just so happened to choose one that had a rodent schtick.
You could imagine my surprise when the little rat I’d just speared through exploded with that ugly green light, then warped and twisted. Convulsing about as it changed shape into what could best be described as a star made out of flesh, bone, and rat fur. It was hands down, the GROSSEST thing I’d ever seen.
And THEN the thing had the audacity to start speaking. Every utterance from its tongue caused another convulsion in the warped rat, a faint glow of that green emitting from the eyes. Which were much too far apart by this point. It really was horrible to look it, there were little bones sticking out and puncturing the flesh everywhere. Eugh. I should’ve picked a less gross god, maybe then I would’ve be in this horrendous predicament.
The warped rat body spoke to the congregation for about 30 minutes. For 25 of that I wasn’t paying attention because I didn’t want to barf all over my supposed deity. (There were little droplets of that disgusting rat blood on my ceremonial carpet. That particularly irked me.) For the last 5, I do not think I shall soon forget it.
“This my dear congregation!” (The rat… thingy… hovered a little bit closer to me.) “is a true servant! A true leader! And a true follower. He has blessed you with the gift of my existence. He has shepherded you along the way and through adversity to create my return! This man! He is now my high priest, henceforth until his death!”
“I’m what?” I couldn’t stop the blunt words from falling out of my mouth.
“You’re my high priest!”
“… riiiiiiiiiiiiight.”
“Do you… have doubts?” The rat-jumble asked, its scratchy voice reminded me of someone who was talking right after waking up, but very deep and highly unsettling.
“Am I really quite… priestly enough?” I asked, cringing slightly. It was evident I had made a very very grave mistake by this point.
“You’ve been preaching g for months. You brought me back from my slumber. I was sure I’d never be worshipped again. You are most certainly my high priest.” He… it… the rat thingy assured. I just nodded. I had entirely screwed myself. I was gonna be stuck with this cult the rest of my life…
“To go with your title high-priest, I will bestow on you a gift of my choosing.” Oh goody. Please don’t be dead rats. Please don’t be dead rats.
The rat sphere drifted nearer, the dripping of blood still grating on my nerves. Keeping the abject terror off my face was difficult beyond imagination. The orb then rotated so wherever the tail went in the warped carcass could tap me gently. As it did, I felt the most exhilarating burst of what I can only describe as rat magic.
“You shall be able to heal even the most sick and miserable. With your words, your touch, your compassion. The spread of sound and healthfulness shant be stopped but by your own limitation.”
I wasn’t sure what was appropriate at that moment so I kneeled. A particularly bad idea, as it now bug me in the rat-blood splash zone. I mean SERIOUSLY! This is the grossest vessel that he could’ve possibly picked! My carpet is entirely ruined!
With that final statement however, the pen fell to the ground with the most hideous mush noise, a few crackles, and what can best be written as a “Skrrrrrrsht.”
Now what on earth was I to do with this information… or ability. I certainly couldn’t heal my mind from what I’d just witnessed transpire. Believe me, I was trying. The divine are disgusting. So I wordlessly lead my congregation out of the doors of my makeshift chapel, and to the Waffle House half a mile away.
As is usual for Saturdays, we all ate at the Waffle House in our congregation robes. Today though. The viscous syrup warming my throat brought to mind the mental imagery of the rat blood. I shoved it aside and decided maybe to forgo the waffles… just for today.
You started a scam religion for a quick buck. You begin to panic when your fake god was actually a real forgotten one awakened from new worshippers, declared you it's high priest, and granted you the power of healing.
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━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞
in this pick-a-card reading, we’ll dive into what people really have to say about you—whether it’s glowing praise or secret whispers. what’s the tea they spill when you’re not around? remember, this is a general reading — take what resonates and leave the rest.
if you have any ideas for tarot pacs you'd like me to do, feel free to drop them in my ask box, and i'll make it happen!
choose the picture or pile that calls to you and let the magic unfold!
PILE ONE i can tell this pile feels personal—what people say about you hits close to home. they think you're indecisive, struggling to take action or follow through on what you said you'd do. it frustrates them; they feel like you can’t commit to certain things. some even say you’re guarded, mysterious, hard to read. and that only makes them more curious—what’s really beneath all of that? there’s also this idea that you avoid confrontation, preferring to stay neutral. while some see that as wise, others view it as passivity, like you’re afraid to stand your ground. interestingly, one specific person seems to stand out here. they’re obsessively focused on you, constantly talking about you. they might discuss things you’ve been through—maybe toxic relationships, bad habits, or difficult patterns. but it’s not all criticism. a lot of people are fascinated by you. they find you magnetic, charming, even alluring. some are jealous, though. they notice your sensitivity—maybe they’ve seen you cry or assume you’re the type to cry in public. they might even think you look younger than you are, which makes them wonder about your age. there’s also talk about your creativity. whether it’s how you dress or how you express yourself artistically, it leaves an impression. and then there’s the assumption that you’ve “got it all.” some think you’re rich or incredibly successful, even if you don’t feel that way yourself. maybe something big happened recently—an achievement, a win, or an opportunity that others wanted. it’s clear they see your potential, and that potential is both admired and envied. people question if it’s luck or hard work that gets you where you are.
PILE TWO people talk about how cautious you are, how you take your time with everything, and how you question every little detail. to them, it might come off as overly slow or even boring because you’re not impulsive. they see you as someone who hesitates or spends too long planning before acting, and some might say you’re no fun because of it. they notice how you like to have a plan for everything, but they don’t realize that beneath that calm surface lies an inner beast—a strength they can’t begin to comprehend. you handle things with patience and emotional control, and people see that. they talk about how calm you remain, even in serious or emotional situations. it’s like nothing can shake you, and that composure either impresses or frustrates them. some gossip that your strength borders on stubbornness, but let’s be real—that envy stems from wishing they had the kind of self-control you do. there’s competition swirling around you, even if you don’t see it. people notice how you deal with disagreements and conflicts. you’re unbothered, and that drives them crazy. they might talk about how you’re not afraid to speak up, even if it causes tension. they focus on how you defend yourself, how you never back down, even in situations where others think you should. they see you as determined, standing firm in your beliefs and decisions, and that resilience makes some people misunderstand or even resent you. it’s funny, though—they think you provoke them with how you respond or even just with your presence. your energy bothers them, but that’s their problem, not yours. you stand your ground, and that’s what really sets you apart.
PILE THREE people gossip a lot about your quiet nature and what’s going on in your life behind the scenes. they’re curious about what you’re up to, especially since you keep things so private. it’s like your silence sparks endless speculation. some even find you suspicious, questioning your motives, intentions, or honesty—accusing you of being manipulative or using tricks. there’s talk about you avoiding confrontation or shying away from taking responsibility, and for some, this feeds into the narrative of you being a liar. there’s a sense that you’ve distanced yourself from people, maybe even withdrawn completely. this makes others wonder what you’re searching for—your purpose or direction in life. your quietness, while intriguing, can make you hard to approach. some feel like they can’t fully connect with you, as if you’re masking your true self or staying intentionally detached. on the other side, there are those who admire you. they see you as wise and insightful, someone who remains calm and composed even under pressure. your guarded nature and emotional detachment make you magnetic in a way that draws people in, even if they don’t fully understand you. they gossip about how cautious and hesitant you are to take bold risks, calling you predictable. yet, they also acknowledge your ability to handle life’s ups and downs with grace and poise. whether people envy, misunderstand, or admire you, it’s clear that your energy leaves a lasting impression.
#divination#tarot#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarot community#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot card reading#astro community#tarot deck#intuitive messages#intuitive readings#intuitive tarot reading#intuitive#intuition#pick a pile#pick a card#pick a picture#pac reading#pac tarot#love pac#tarot witch#witchcraft#witchblr#pick a card reading#tarotscope#tarotonline#daily tarot
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okay, so. OP i hope you don't take this as me getting upset, i just get super passionate about pokemon and need to explain to everyone in the audience why most people did not think to do this.
first is the most obvious thing like. it came down to arrogance right? the leaders before this were some of the biggest pushovers in pokemon history. falkner and bugsy. another point is that a lot of people don't really want to use pokemon from past gens unless they REALLY love them.
any way it's time to go over the type of team most trainers would've had at this point. you got your starter, you got your pikachu/mareep, free eevee, flying, and bug poke.
now. here's the problem: barring chikorita (who takes not very effective) and totodile/eevee (takes regular damage), EVERYONE on this team is weak to rock. also who would've guessed a gym leader would have type coverage?? actually. this is a good time to bring up the crown jewel: this ABSOLUTELY ingenious setlist and break it down:
Stomp: a 65 base power move and 30% chance to flinch. not only that, but it's a STAB move making the moves power closer to 98. yeah.
Attract: a status move that has a 50% chance of working every turn. to make things worse, your starter (who would normally be doing the most heavy lifting) is very likely to be male.
Milk Drink: basically just recover/soft-boiled/roost (ok so roost is a bit different) which is VERY GOOD. 50% of max health is even better than any potion you would have access to at this point. also wanted to point out but if you slapped whiney's clefairy before she had a chance to heal it, that means when you FINALLY managed to whittle milktank's health down, she could just heal it with her two potions as well but. why would she at that point when she's got MILK DRINK.
ROLLOUT: oh god. so. it comes to this. here is all the numbers and information on pokemondb.net which i will post now and we can all boggle at the absurdity of these numbers:
so yeah. as you can see the big problem is even when you switch out your pokemon into another one, even if it's something with high defense, as long as the move hits, it has a chance of a OHKO.
(btw in hgss miltank is level 19 instead but in exchange holds a lum berry. just in case you wanted to like. paralyze it or something you gotta do it AGAIN)
miltank is a pokemon that does not evolve so i guess the best way is to describe it is that pokemon with no evolutions have some pretty strong base stats compared to ones that have yet to evolve fully.
here's an estimation of what the machop you would trade IF it was the same level as miltank:
and here's quilava (the starter i chose):
ok, not bad-
NOW THIS IS MILTANK:
as you can see, even if your pokémon were a few levels higher, they're still at a disadvantage here. machop has some low base stats so unless you train and evolve it, its STILL going to be a battle as a turn 4-5 rollout can most likely oneshot it. this is why, for speed runners or nuzlocks the beginning is almost always the hardest just in terms of your options being severely limited and shit like this.
an way just to close this out but this post really unlocked another interesting memory in me. you need drowzee to trade for the machop and like. drowzee in joto was MY FIRST shiny pokemon and i captured it on route 34. i didn't know what it was, but it LOOKED special. reading this post, i wonder if i was looking for drowzee specifically for this purpose?
idk about y'all but when i was playing pokemon as a baby, i did not know defense and special defense were separate. or attack and special attack for that matter, i just saw a move and clicked on it. flame wheel looks cool on quilava and has a higher number than ember, so im keeping it. even though it's attack stat is the weaker of the two. so yeah. machop is the closest to a "hard counter" we would've had for miltank but fortunately whitey's strategy really only works the one time. the best thing to do was level up your pokemon or catch a heracross or quagsire. for full transparency, whitney is the only time i've ever been bested by the game's AI (not counting battle frontier...) but i think that's awesome. it taught me to become more diverse and creative with my movesets. any way i just think breaking stuff down like this is a lot of fun, and i always find it interesting when a community of people all had the same experience.
wait hold on yall didnt just use the machop that resists rollout, is immune to attract from female pokemon, can ko normal-types in like two hits if you just train it a little, and is basically given to you for free in the very same city you fight whitney????
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Castles in the Fade, or What Was the Point of the Veil Anyway
Something that will now haunt me until the end of time is why was the concept of the Veil ever introduced into this series.
We’ve been hearing about it since the very first game. There’s a codex entry about tears in the Veil in Origins. Tamlen mentions a thin spot in the Veil if you play a Dalish elf. Sandal has a prophecy in Dragon Age 2: “One day the magic will come back—all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Admittedly, this is just one line said by a character who often says odd things, but it hinted to the fact they were planning to do something with the Veil from the very beginning. The state of the Veil is repeatedly brought up. It all had to mean something! Or so I thought.
When I saw “The Dread Wolf Rises” quest in Veilguard, I said, “Oh, here we go!” The Veil is coming down, magic is coming back, and it’s going to set up such an interesting story for the next game.
Alas, no.
I hadn’t really enjoyed my time playing Veilguard up until this point. It felt like the game was ducking and dodging every bit of world building and lore that could possibly bring nuance or complexity to the story. Every returning character or faction was a cardboard cutout of themself. They shoved Solas is a time-out box and gave him nothing to do. They refused to let him have any impact or influence on the story when he had been set up to be our main antagonist back in Trespasser. This game used to be called Dreadwolf! And while we learn about his past… we never talk to him about it. In the present, he’s in stasis.
Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains. They are mad, bad, and only as dangerous as the narrative will allow as to not give Rook and co too much trouble. They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems… until Elgar’nan moves the moon to cause an eclipse. A vital component in making his own lyrium dagger. For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure.
The Evil Duo need their own dagger ostensibly to tear down the Veil, because they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead? I guess they haven’t thought that through, because of the madness and the evilness.
Ok, I thought. Perhaps the gods will be the one to tear down the Veil. Or maybe we’ll have a choice to let Solas do it his way before they can, which will be less chaotic and less full of Blight. Because the Veil has to be coming down one way or another? Why introduce the concept of the Veil, especially a Veil that has been thinning and failing since the series began, if it’s just going to… stay.
There is a principle in storytelling called Chekov’s gun. If something is mentioned in a story, it must have a purpose. If you keeping mentioning that gun hanging on the wall over the fireplace, it’s because at some point in the story, someone is going to take it down and use it. The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games.
The Veil has been a character unto itself. It was the central focus of the third game, and its dissolution was set up to be the core conflict of the fourth game. We learn everything we thought we knew about the Veil was a lie. It was not created by the Maker to separate the Fade from this world because of jealous spirits, it was created by a guy named Solas to trap the elven gods and the Blight from destroying the world. Also, the elven gods were never gods, and they are also evil.
This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded. Religious crisis averted.
But I digress.
When the title of the fourth game was changed from Dreadwolf to Veilguard, I started to see the writing on the wall. Still, I held out hope the Veil would have some greater purpose in the story. That its introduction as a concept was for a reason. That something in this world would change.
Instead, from the get-go, the question of the Veil is no question at all. We only get Solas and Varric making oblique or catastrophizing statements about it. Solas says little beyond he has a plan. If I ever wanted to hear a villain monologue about their plan, it was now! Varric, on the other hand, decries Solas’s plan. He warns that should the Veil fall, it will destroy the world and drown it in demons. And that’s that.
We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. In Inquisition and Trespasser, we learn it took the immortality from the elves. It cut most of magic off from the world. Spirits are trapped and are being corrupted into demons, and most of what we know about spirits and demons is wrong. There are ancient elves possibly asleep? That part is left vague, but ancient elves are still about. We meet some in Mythal’s temple. There seems to have been some merit in bringing it down, because elves were flocking to Solas’s cause at the end of Trespasser. He had agents working for him already. What do they know that we don’t know?
Apparently nothing, because by the time Veilguard rolls around, there are no mention of agents. He is working alone. His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. The Veil is unnatural, so it must be removed—consequences be damned. We are never given any reason to think Solas has a leg to stand on in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil. We never hear any kind of counter argument from anyone, not even Solas, as to why the Veil should come down. We are only told it will destroy the world. It will drown the world in demons. This is all Solas’s fault.
There is no nuance. No complexity. No moral quandary to mull over. The game gives us vague warnings with no explanation as to what exactly is so world-annihilating about the Veil coming down. We must take Varric’s word at face value. We’re the heroes; Solas is the villain. Stop him.
It makes me wonder why Solas was ever a companion in Inquisition, let alone a romance option. Solas was presented to us as a complicated character in Inquisition. We had the potential throughout the game to make him see the value of this world, to help him realize he was wrong about it. “We aren’t even people to you,” the Inquisitor says in Trespasser. Solas replies, “Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.” He began the third game viewing the world as tranquil, seeing the people in it as nothing more than figments in a nightmare, just as we saw our companions in the In Hushed Whispers quest. He ends the game having made friends, having recognized he was mistaken. He might have even fallen in love. (Or he may still seen no merit in this world if the Inquisitor antagonized him the entirety of their time together.) But something makes him continue with his plan to tear down the Veil, despite recognizing this world is real. He must know something we don’t. Something we’ll learn about in the next game.
We’ve been hearing about the Veil for three games now. We’ve set up our complex antivillain for the next installment, and he’s going to tear the Veil down. We swear to stop him or save him. But it has to be more complex than that. It can’t be so straightforward. Uncomplicated. Simple. Boring. Right? Right?
Nope. He really is just the villain, mustache-twirling and all. He apparently had no greater motivation, no as of yet unrevealed knowledge that would put this whole Veil thing into a new context. It was really as simple as the Veil falling will destroy the world, so Solas must be stopped. There is no new information that is revealed which makes us question what we are doing. Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?
Solas was the trickster archetype of this tale. He was our version of Loki from Norse mythology. What is the role of the trickster archetype? To challenge the status quo. To bring about events of extreme change, like say, the tearing down of a Veil that holds back all of magic. Loki is a huge contributing factor in Ragnarök. Through his manipulation, he causes the death of the beloved god, Baldr. This ushers in a long winter, which signifies the beginning of the end. Loki is imprisoned for this crime. When the final battle between gods and giants begins, the sun and moon are swallowed, plunging the earth into darkness. The earth shakes and Loki is freed to fight on the side of the giants. The world burns in raw chaos, falls beneath the sea, and is reborn. The world is remade, and a new realm of the gods and a new, better earth is formed.
It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic. This could be seen as equivalent to the long winter. Solas falls asleep, trapped in dreams. He wakes and sets in motion bringing about the apocalypse. It’s not a perfect one to one, but it’s there if you squint. We have a war against the gods in Veilguard. I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that. There is a final battle, but it does not end in the end of the world. Or a better world. It just ends, and everything is the same.
It seems our trickster god caused his apocalypse thousands of years before our story started, when he created the Veil. His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. He is no Loki at all.
If you can’t tell, I wanted the Veil to come down. Did I think the Veil coming down would be painless? Have no negative consequences? No. Of course not. But keeping it up has negative consequences too. And it made for an interesting story. Or at least it could have. But we never explore that. The game presents no counter argument to having the Veil stay up, which, again, begs the question: what was the point of introducing the concept of the Veil at all?
Did I think the Veil coming down was actually the best solution to help Thedas become a better place? I don’t know, and I never will, because the game never argues for it one way or another. It just tells you to want it in place and to stop asking questions. In real life, a catastrophic event is not the best way to solve any of the world’s problems. But this is the realm of fiction. We have gods and monsters, magic and myth. We have introduced the status quo of Thedas, recognized it needs to change, then our trickster god appears ready to fulfill his role in the narrative.
Instead, it all comes to nothing.
I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins. Veilguard actually tries its hardest to pretend any previously mentioned problems don’t exist, so of course the Veil coming down has no merit. There are no problems to solve in this world, apparently. Solas is just stuck in the past and can’t get with the times. Silly Solas.
The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another. Large amounts of bloodshed weaken it, so I guess Thedas better achieve world peace real quick to avoid any battles. There were seven super-powered mages holding it together… now there is just one. Ironically, the Veil was going to fall after two more Blights anyway. The Wardens were doing Solas’s work for him! It would also have released the full force of the Blight at that time… which Solas was trying to avoid, I presume.
It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares.
Primarily, I wanted the Veil to come down from a storytelling perspective. The Veil was an interesting concept and I wanted the story to do something interesting with it. Conflict is what makes stories stories and the Veil coming down could create so much compelling and complex conflict. And the Fade is weird, and I like weird. Stories are also about change, and I wanted to see Thedas change. Yet, Veilguard is over, and barely anything has changed. Instead of magic coming back being a conflict for the next game, they went with Fantasy Illuminati. Oh.
The Veil turned out to be a nothing-burger, and no problems in this world are even close to being solved. Slavery is still rampant in Tevinter. The elven people are still oppressed everywhere. Mages have no more rights in the South than they did in Origins. Spirits are still trapped and being corrupted. The Calling still exists, though might be different somehow now? They don’t really get into that. The Chantry’s validity is still not allowed to be questioned. The Blight still exists in some form, but again it’s vague. Oh, and we learn the dwarves have been gravely wronged, and the Titans are still tranquil. At least if you redeem Solas and a romanced Lavellan joins him, they can work together on healing the Blight and helping the Titans. Oh, good. One problem is being acknowledged and some action will be taken. Offscreen. Hurray? Solas doesn’t have a really great track record of fixing problems, so Lavellan is definitely going to need to be there to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.
For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn. The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why.
I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned… things suck quite a bit in Thedas already for a lot of people right now. Let the Veil’s fate be a difficult choice to make. If the conflict cannot be what to do about the Veil, it should be am I doing the right thing about the Veil. If the heart of your game is so thin on motive, everything else falls apart around it.
I hoped they were setting up a complex, Thedas-sized existential conflict for this game in Trespasser, but no. I wanted something to happen, but nothing did.
I want to feel challenged and changed by a story, not left feeling empty. I’m tired of superficial entertainment. I want to sink my teeth into a narrative that doesn’t paint the world in broad strokes of black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.
Ultimately, I think my issue is why even introduce a concept like The Veil if you’re not going to do anything interesting with it. Or anything at all. What I thought was Chekov’s Veil turned out to just be a MacGuffin. And that’s disappointing.
#dragon age#the veil#the veil the veil the veil#solas#in which I shake my fist at heaven for 3000 words
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