#There is a reason they had to off him pretty early on

[charles-leclerc-official]

2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Analysis

My analysis of the Miami 2024 Grand Prix. There is a lot to cover so let’s not waste time with introductions. 

Table of Contents Race Start Ferrari -Charles -Carlos: His race + Oscar -Data Analysis Mclaren -Lando: Safety Car -Oscar -Data Analysis VCARB Red Bull Mercedes -Lewis Haas -Kevin Williams -Alex -Logan: DNF Final Thoughts

Race Start

We finally have a spicy turn 1 (really a race start) incident to talk about! I have to start with this because this did set the stage for the entire first stint of the race, and really the second half as well because of Oscar’s placement. 

At the very start of the race Checo barreled forward basically trying to cut ahead of both Ferraris. He went way too fast and almost hit Max going into turn 1. 

It’s actually just impressive that he didn’t hit anyone and that Charles and Carlos didn’t have a crash either with each other or with Checo. Checo dropped from P4 down to P5 with that maneuver.

He was way too ambitious with this start. Obviously he had to come out aggressive and the ultimate goal would be to get ahead of both Ferraris, but trying to jump them both? Way too much all at once and that is what cost him. He should have stuck with simply trying to pass Carlos, then he’d have been able to work on catching Charles. But instead he overshot, lost places and Oscar was the one who benefited greatly from it, jumping from P6 to P3. 

So Oscar was the main winner of the whole situation, and the two drivers who lost places were Checo and Carlos. 

There are two main reasons this wasn’t penalized. 1. It was the race start and turn 1 and the stewards are always more lenient with first lap messes like this. 2. It didn’t cause a collision. If a collision had occurred Checo would have been at fault, but everyone was very lucky, so no penalty.

With the stage set let's dig in to what went down with all the teams.

Ferrari

Charles

Charles had a very impressive weekend. After missing all of free practice due to spinning out(due to losing traction on a turn) he then went straight into sprint qualifying and pulled off P2 which he held in the sprint. He then qualified P2 again in the race and finished P3. All of this without having any free practice to get his setup optimized for the track. This really speaks to the SF-24 base being reliable as well as Charles’ overall skills on track. 

He actually had a very clean race all things considered. His pace was not as strong as Oscar so he lost that place pretty early in the race and dropped to P3 behind Oscar and Max and he kept that place for the rest of the race. He pit early because the medium tyre was good on the SF-24 this weekend. They pit Charles early to undercut Oscar(which they did, and that was needed as Oscar was faster on the mediums) After that his hard tyre management was insanely good, He finished in the top 3 with the oldest set of hard tyres. He was able to keep pace with Max on tyres that were 4 laps older. And considering this is still the base SF-24 while the RB20 has already been upgraded is a really strong showing from the car itself. 

Overall a very strong weekend from Charles and the SF-24 again showing that the Ferrari base is strong.

More on his race performance in the data section.

Carlos

Carlos qualified P3, finished the race in P4 and was dropped down to P5 after he was given a 5 second penalty for making contact with Oscar. Obviously this was his worst result so far this year, it isn’t 100% his fault, the race order changed in such a way that was not in his favor and there wasn’t much he could have done there. So the loss of one place was not his direct fault, just unlucky. The other palace due to the penalty that was at least in part his fault and I will get into that more in the section going over his battle with Oscar. 

So after we saw qualifying results I said that the best strategy for Ferrari was for Charles to attack Max and Carlos to defend against Checo who was behind him in P4. Well Checo made that impossible with the race opening. Not much Carlos or anyone could have done about that, so it would have been a good strategy but Checo had other plans. Cannot fault him for that, good thing he was able to get out of the way to avoid a collision. I am suspecting Checo was super aggressive to try to counter that potential Ferrari strategy. But yeah Carlos couldn’t have done anything to stop Checo from doing that. 

But also this is to say that right out of the beginning of the race Carlos was set up for a very different race than I think he was anticipating. I’m sure that defending against Checo was probably what Ferrari had prepared him for, but that race opening really changed the order and altered his strategy for the rest of the race. 

I’ll just briefly mention Carlos’ radio message near the beginning when he came up behind Charles. He said he felt like he had the better pace, and Ferrari didn’t give any orders. This is mostly just talking. And I think it’s also fine for a team to just let it be. If he had better pace he’d be able to get ahead. He didn't, thus it wasn’t an issue. I feel like any team staying silent when a driver says something like this is like “okay you have better pace prove it” and we saw how that went. He and Charles were very close on pace with fresh tyres. But the difference became clear as the tyres aged. Charles stayed ahead and Carlos steadily dropped off. I don’t think it’s a big deal, normal for a driver to say they have better pace, normal to ignore it unless it’s actually true. 

I don’t really care about radio messages unless they actually lead to something changing about a race. Driver’s talk all the time, only if it leads to results does it really matter so I don’t think any of it is worth covering.

Carlos VS Oscar

I am going to ask both Carlos and Oscar fans to take a deep breath going into this section. 

One of the main battles on track this race was between Oscar and Carlos for P4. Oscar gained track position pretty early in the race when Checo did that crazy move in turn 1. He was able to jump up to P2 and passed Max in the pits to take P1 for a while. 

He lost the positions in the pits and then the safety car for Logan made it odd to try to regain, which put him one place ahead of Carlos. Then Carlos overtook and got behind Oscar. This is when the battle began and where trouble cropped up. 

Oscar and Carlos were pretty much matched on pace. Carlos was slightly more consistent in pace, but they were very close. Which is what made this a tight battle. It’s what allowed Carlos to catch up to Oscar and what made Oscar able to defend.

So this was always going to be messy. And it did in fact get messy.

I think that most of what happened between Oscar and Carlos falls under the "good hard racing" category. I think there is an argument to be made that neither were deserving of a penalty. But if you want insight into why the stewards made the calls they did then this is it.

First I will cover the move that Carlos was handed a penalty for by the stewards. On lap 39 turn 17 Carlos missed the apex, braking late which caused him to slightly lose the rears of the car. This resulted in his tyres hitting Oscar’s front wing. This was not something Carlos could have done intentionally, and was instead a result of slight loss of control of the car. He didn’t do it on purpose; it was a result of driver error on his part. So yes he was at fault but it was not due to him intentionally trying to cause Oscar damage. 

Going into the turn Oscar has the outside line, Carlos has the inside, Carlos is slightly ahead here just so we are clear.

They start the turn, there is space between them. However this is where Carlos started to turn a little too late.

And here is where the contact came. Carlos broke too late and when he needed to take the apex he missed, slowing too quickly caused him to lose the rears slightly, and thus he turned into Oscar's rear wing. Oscar was driving under the assumption that Carlos had not misjudged the apex and that he would keep control. So there wasn't anything Oscar could have done. But also I want to highlight that this isn't a move that could have been done on purpose. It was an error on Carlos' part yes, but it was not intentional.

I would also argue that Oscar turned in too sharply, or didn’t react in time to Carlos’ error on the apex. Had he not been so close he wouldn’t have been hit. I think this is the reason the stewards only gave a partial penalty to Carlos. I do agree that Oscar was too close. But he ultimately isn’t at fault. 

I think this looked worse than it is because both drivers were racing very hard against each other up until this point so it’s easy to believe that one or both did something intentional. I think it was a result of them battling closely and slight error on Carlos’ part. 

Causing contact is deserving of a penalty.

Now let’s look at the incident where Oscar forced Carlos off the track. Going into the turn Oscar came up the inside and pushed Carlos out and Carlos ended up with all 4 wheels off the track. However there is nuance here so let’s take a look at the footage.

Going into the turn Carlos has the clear outside line, Oscar has the inside. Oscar is ahead.

This is where the beginning of trouble started. Oscar still clearly has the inside line. Carlos has plenty of room on the outside, but he turned in more.

And then continue to turn in to squeeze Oscar giving him nowhere to go is why Oscar had to fight back and push Carlos out. The fact they didn't have damage here is impressive really.

But Oscar was on his line, he was ahead had the inside line and defended it. Carlos ran wide as a result of this defense. Oscar did not push him all the way off the track just because.

Both of these are hard racing moves and I think that because they both were very pushy with each other was the reason no penalty was given to Oscar.

Personally I am on the fence about whether this is deserving of a penalty on Oscar’s part. He did force Carlos completely off the track. He had the inside line and he’s allowed to protect it, but was this too far? It falls in a gray area for me. I think that Carlos closing him off in that turn didn’t give him much choice so I am not going to be too mad no penalty was given. But I can see why someone would make a different call as well.

Now I think this is a penalty that could be debated. However, regardless of the actual penalty, what I do not love is the half measure from the stewards, reducing Carlos' penalty down to five seconds when the new rules say this kind of thing should be 10 seconds. Is he at fault or not? It should be a 10 second penalty or no penalty, I don’t like this very situational precedent this is setting. As a Ferrari fan I am biased toward no penalty. But I think we can all agree that this was an odd choice and doesn’t inspire any confidence in the stewards’ decision here(not that they had much good faith to begin with) 

I read their reasoning and I don’t think it’s strong enough to warrant splitting the time. If Carlos is at fault(and based on their decision in their eyes he is) then it should be a 10 second penalty. 

My hope is that this kind of ruling does not come up again in future races.

I want to quickly dispel some narratives forming around this battle between them.

“Carlos ruined Oscar’s race, he admitted it!”: Yes and no. Was Carlos responsible for Oscar’s damage and him dropping all those places? Yes. But did he do it on purpose? No. Carlos is notoriously unreliable in interviews. I have no idea why he thought it was a better look to imply he did it on purpose than to say he made a mistake in the turn and lost the rear slightly. So no he did not intentionally turn into Oscar with his rear tyres to cause Oscar damage. “Oscar should have got a penalty”: There is a case to be made for that. I am not the stewards so I can’t change that. They decided not to give a penalty. You really have to take it up with the FIA as it’s not Oscar’s fault he didn’t get a penalty. It’s certainly a fringe case with arguments for the case for a penalty on both sides.

As far as Carlos overall race goes he was quite fast(in the race), he was competitive against the other fastest car and again he was just showing how strong that SF-24 base is. He was able to fight with Oscar who was faster and in an upgraded car. So even though his race looked messy there was a lot of promise there and he showed again that the SF-24 is doing good things for both our Ferrari drivers. I was impressed to see him keeping up on pace like that.

Data Analysis

I have a lot of comparisons to make as far as both Ferraris go. There were a lot of interesting on track battles in terms of pace and tyre management. All looks really promising for Ferrari.

First a quick look at Oscar’s fastest lap Vs Carlos.

Very close. They were essentially matched on pace in the first two sectors. Where Carlos lost the time to Oscar was on the low speed corners in sector 3. This has been an area where the SF-24 has been underperforming, so this isn’t a surprise. But this mainly shows why the battle between them went on as long as it did, and also why things came to a head on those low speed corners. That is where Oscar had the edge on pace and is also a place for overtaking. So Carlos had to push more and Oscar obviously was still able to stay within striking range.

The main battle for Charles in this race was against Max. And pace-wise he was matching him. The reason that Charles didn’t close the gap further was because he had some bad laps and Max was slightly more consistent in his second stint lap time wise. Overall pace was practically identical to Max in the RB-20 which is what we want to see, especially since Red Bull has already upgraded Max’s car and the SF-24 is still the base. 

Here is Charles full race pace against Max. This is the closest they have been all year. Very promising to see. Especially on the hards. Charles was on older hards but still beating Max on pace.

It is worth noting that Max was not 100% comfortable in the car so he was not in top form this weekend, but that just shows that the RB20 is not infallible, the operating window for the car seems narrower, and Max also isn’t perfect.

Overall Charles was stronger consistently and that put him ahead of Max in performance on many laps. If Max hadn't had track position he likely would not have been able to catch Charles.

Now here is a look at the race pace for the top 3.

The top 3 very very close in pace, like the difference is negligible, especially considering Max and Charles were on slightly older tyres (and Max had some slight damage due to the cone) but this is very close and means very good things for Ferrari as it’s the only car here that has yet to bring any upgrades. If upgrades bring what Ferrari expects then Red Bull and Mclaren should be nervous. 

Here is a fastest lap comparison for the top 3. Lando had the fastest lap of the three, but the difference between him and Charles was by one tenth, and Charles set his fastest lap on significantly older tyres. Max was the furthest off by 3 tenths to Lando and 2 tenths to Charles.

The reason Max was ahead of Charles was because of track position. Charles was faster, but the pace difference wasn’t enough for him to catch Max for the overtake. But this is a good sign for when Charles does have track position over Max. And again that is against the upgraded Mclaren. The SF-24 is such a solid base.

Also let’s look at Carlos against all of the top 3 as well. He actually had the fastest lap of this grouping(fastest lap of the race was Oscar) He was faster than Lando by a few hundredths which is close, but he was faster. One thing to really highlight between Carlos and Lando is that the only points where Lando is faster is those low speed corners. Something the SF-24 must address to catch Mclaren in the future. But also notice how those same low speed corners are where Charles was better compared to Carlos as well.

And finally adding Oscar for the full Ferrari to Mclaren comparison as well as Max.

Oscar really did have a great lap, and it was on those fresh medium tyres which is why his time is faster by 3 tenths than the others. While the other four were on older tyres for their best laps. However the most interesting thing to note is how Ferrari and Mclaren are extremely close. The overlap is everywhere and the gap is so fine. The car who is the odd one out is the Red Bull and that’s very promising for the rest of the season as far as Ferrari is concerned. The highlight here is that Ferrari and Mclaren were the fastest cars this weekend and it was close, way closer than the race results might suggest.

Now let's talk about tyres. Charles finished his race on 38 lap old hards. The oldest of the other top 4 drivers.

Here is the first stint pace on the medium tyres for the race. This is when the tyres were most subject to the same conditions and you can see the pace that was the most similar was Charles and Max. Not only that but they were the two drivers reducing their laps times, instead of steadily increasing. This is where you can see why Carlos fell away behind Charles, and also why Lando was not making much headway in catching Checo.

Charles had improved by roughly 7 tenths to a full second of pace by the time he pit. Max stayed on pace similar to Lando. So again we see Charles pulling off negative tyre deg(minimal but still noteworthy) compared to his direct competition as well as his teammate. Lando's laps were very consistent, that obviously came up in the second half of the race. Carlos pushed hard but dropped off on pace(as we'd expect to see with normal deg) He really pushed but he'd already lost the time to Charles in the middle of the stint and wasn't able to gain it back. Still one of the better tyre performances we've seen from Carlos as well. The fact that both Ferraris are the strongest here is again due to the SF-24 and the way the car treats the tyres.

The main reason Ferrari pit Charles after this was to try to undercut Oscar, it was not due to a drop off in the tyre performance. Since he was pushing I don't think they'd have lasted as long as we've seen in the past from Charles, but there was more in them. The pit was strategic not due to a loss of pace on Charles' part.

It was not possible to really correct for the mess that was the safety car and to correct for the age of the tyres. At least not in a way I was satisfied with. Each of the top 4 drivers were in different places when it came to those hards. The best comparison is to Max and Charles was beating him on pace in older hards(see Charles vs Max race pace graph above). And Charles was pushing in those tyres so he wasn't even driving 100% to preserve them, because of the safety car Ferrari had to balance pushing to keep ahead and also to save the tyres. Charles pulled this off beautifully. Taking this stint on the hards from the race re-start on lap 33 after the yellow flag.

I will show the raw data for the top three to see the over all tyre deg but I wanted to make sure that everyone considers context. I did not include Carlos here because he was battling Oscar so his times are going to reflect that more than his tyre management.

The thing to note is Charles lap consistency has not fallen off, even when compared to the other two top drivers, especially Lando who was on 10 lap newer tyres. Charles final lap was off Lando by one tenth. You would not know he was on tyres that were 10 laps older. An insane showing in terms of tyre management from him yet again. So far in 2024 I can say with confidence that Charles has been the best in tyre management. The SF-24 has been amazing in this area and that ability in the car is only highlighted when Charles is behind the wheel.

Overall this race showed just how strong the SF-24 base is yet again, it was able to keep up with both Max in the RB20 and the Mclarens which had brought big upgrades to this race. Both Carlos and Charles were competitive against the fastest cars and this is very promising for what the SF-24 is set up to do once it is upgraded. Overall Ferrari was the second fastest car this weekend and that was by a very fine margin. Exciting things for both Ferrari drivers and for the car base itself. 

Not Ferrari’s strongest weekend obviously, but the data gathered gives a lot of valuable insight, and also both driver’s secured placements to keep Ferrari in a comfortable P2 in the standings, and for Charles to be P3 in the WDC behind the Red Bulls.

Mclaren

Before we get to the Mclaren section I would like to remind you dear reader that this is a Ferrari blog, my bias is very clear, do not expect me to celebrate a Mclaren victory. I will analyze the facts fairly, but do not come at me for not being excited or hyping things up. I am not the person for that. Our teams have a long standing rivalry and I have made my place in that rivalry very clear. 

With all that being said let’s talk about Mclaren.

Lando

Lando Norris won his first grand prix after taking the lead of the race as a result of a safety car deployment on lap 28. He started P6 and finished P1.

Now this win was due to a few factors. First Lando had the fastest pace of the race(on the hard tyres), and second he was the only driver who benefited from that safety car. He was ahead of the pack and on newer tyres compared to every competitive car behind him(Max, Charles, Carlos, Oscar). He drove well and his pace was fastest by a fine margin, but we have to account for the fact that a good amount of luck put him at the front of the field. 

He was behind Checo in P6 having made no places up in the race, then Checo pit, and Carlos and Charles pit, then Max pit, and Oscar pit the lap before him. He gained every place through the pits. Then on lap 28 the safety car was deployed in front of every car behind him. Since he pit lap 27 he effectively got the benefit of a safety car pit which can see gains of 5 - 7 seconds, and if we look at the margin he ended up winning the race by this is reflected, yes his pace was better but it wasn’t create a magical 7 second gap better. In fact due to that lucky pit timing he got the benefit of a full safety car pit without having to serve the time in the pits. Not his fault he was lucky, but that does account for his placement and the gap he finished with, has nothing to do with pace. 

This win was mostly on the fact that he was insanely lucky both on the timing of his pit, and the timing and placement of the safety car. He didn’t take any of those positions. And I am fairly confident that had that safety car not been deployed at that time he wouldn’t have. He may have come in P3 but he was not on track to be able to overtake all of those cars in front, even with faster pace. The only thing that can be really said skill wise for this drive was he did have the fastest pace(the second stint is due to the fact he was on much newer tyres than the two cars behind) and that he didn’t crash or spin out after he was given the lead of the race. A win is a win but this was mostly due to an insane amount of luck that has nothing to do with the actual race craft. He was on fresher tyres so of course he got a better start at the race restart. It’s not as hard to defend against a car that has been damaged and two cars on older tyres.

I would have liked to get to see how he fared trying to overtake Max, but maybe we will see that in a future race. I also am sure he wouldn’t have been able to overtake Charles. Lando was also faster in Australia, by a similar margin in fact, and he wasn’t able to catch Charles, let alone pass him. So to assume just because he had the slightly faster pace that he would have won without that insane luck is very misguided.

Without the safety car I am not convinced he would have won or even been on the podium(but speculating isn’t really too helpful there is no way to be sure) I will note that since Max was struggling more for grip and thus pace this weekend I actually think that had the safety car not occurred the P1 battle might have been Piastri vs Leclerc. Because guess what, being the fastest car does not automatically mean you win the race, yes he was fastest but he was stuck behind Checo for 17 laps and made no progress overtaking. So that speed wasn’t really doing anything for him back there(of course he was subject to dirty air) but if he couldn’t overtake Checo the second Red Bull it is reasonable to assume he was not going to be able to overtake Max. We know with a similar pace match up he couldn’t take Charles either. If the safety car hadn’t happened there Oscar would have had the leading Mclaren position, and we did see that he can pass Charles, and he would have had a better chance against Max. I entertain this just to highlight that the speed can be there all it wants but the race craft skill was not there this weekend and it certainly did not play a significant role in the win. 

But again it’s impossible to say. Speculating is only so productive. However I think it is interesting to see how things might have played out taking the need to overtake into account. 

The positioning was due to the safety car. The reason he stayed in P1 was because he could keep the gap to Max(who was on older tyres) and Charles(who was on even older tyres) His pace was faster, but by on average of 2-hundredths of a second to Max and Charles. That is not really enough for him to have won the race without gaining that P1 position with the safety car. And that pace gap does not explain why he finished with a 7 second gap, that was the safety car.

And here’s the thing, wins happen like this. He absolutely had the winning pace but that was due to being in P1 due to the safety car(he would not have been there otherwise) and thus he had newer tyres than the cars directly behind him, which on this track in the heat was a big advantage. A win is a win so putting it all in context should not be an issue. We aren’t here to celebrate, we are here to see what happened. 

Winning a race usually does have some elements of luck, being able to pull off a win is being able to take advantage of that luck when it happens. That’s what happened with Lando. He got very lucky with some elements of the race and was able to drive to take full advantage of that. 

All in all an interesting race for Mclaren.

Oscar

I already covered Oscar’s battle and contact with Carlos in the Ferrari section. So this is just going to cover the other elements of his race this weekend.

Tyre deg has been Oscar’s main weakness when it comes to overall pace in his driving. This weekend he was driving pretty hard and still managed to have good speed which means he’s improved and also the car has probably improved to account for that as well.

He set the fastest lap from P19 which was pretty entertaining to see. The reason he was able to do this was due to the fact he had to pit for a new nose after the contact with Carlos damaged his front wing. He got fresh medium tyres and was able to really set a good fast lap. He also set it without DRS so that speaks to his speed this weekend(and looks promising as far as the car upgrades he did have go). 

The fact that the damage he took happened so late in the race meant he just didn’t have the time to climb the field. He made up some places but there just wasn’t enough time. Had this happened earlier I have no doubt he would have finished in the top 10. 

Oscar raced well and his speed was very good, he was very unlucky that the damage to his car required a pit at a very bad time in the race. 

Even though this result is obviously disappointing, I do think it showed what Oscar can do, and we are going to see a lot more battles and speed from him in future races. 

I will finish this section with the fact that to me the most impressive bit of driving from a Mclaren driver all weekend was Oscar managing to take full advantage of the chaos Checo caused in turn 1 at the race start and jumping up 2 places. Like he saw the line and took it. As far as actually racing against other cars goes in a Mclaren, Oscar has been showing to be stronger in this area. He overtook Charles and that is impressive. If Max hadn’t pitted when he did we might have gotten to see if Oscar was able to take him as well. Lando had the pace(by a small margin to Oscar only on the hards, Oscar's pace on mediums was better than Lando), but I think Oscar is winning in terms of managing his on track battles. The data for Oscar is also skewed because he was stuck fighting with Carlos and then took damage so the statistics of his pace show him being much slower than Lando, when on that first stint Oscar was faster. Without the bad luck on his part I think he would have finished ahead of Lando in the race.

Data Analysis

So I first want to do a teammate comparison. It is of course important to note that Lando had the full Mclaren upgrade package and Oscar only had half. How that really affected their results is still hard to say.

But here is their race pace. I really think we can only compare the first stint on the mediums, because after Oscar’s battle with Carlos hindered him, and after he took damage his pace was really not going to be its best.

That first stint Oscar is actually consistently faster on pace until around lap 18 when Lando passes him in that department. I think this comes down to tyre management. Lando is better than Oscar in that area, but pace wise Oscar had it on the mediums for the race start, and he was showing it with the passes he was making. 

The takeaway for me is two-fold. The Mclaren upgrades have added speed. And that I think a head to head of Lando vs Oscar in the right conditions Oscar may have the edge. If he continues to work on his tyre management we may see him pass Lando on pace altogether. Remains to be seen. But overall this is very close for both of them, so they were both getting a lot of good performance out of that car this weekend.

Here is a comparison of their fastest lap.

I want to note that Oscar set this after getting a fresh set of mediums after he took front wing damage. He still showed that he was the strongest I think in all of sector 3 all race. That is where the Mclaren car was beating the Ferraris and the Red Bulls, and that is also where Oscar was outperforming Lando. Lando was on much older tyres, so he didn’t have as good of a chance to be able to set a really clean lap this race. But I think that before Oscar was dealing with Carlos and was damaged he was still faster so I think he still would have set a faster lap to Lando in equal conditions this race.

VCARB

Probably VCARB’s best weekend overall as a team. With Danny bringing in his first points of the season coming in P4 during the sprint and Yuki coming in P7 in the race they got a good chunk of points for the team. And in the midfield that means a lot. They have really cemented themselves as the top of the midfield by a pretty good margin. 

Danny of course got the best result we’ve seen so far, with that P4 in the sprint, he defended against Carlos in a Ferrari the entire race and scored his first points of the season. 

Now he started P20 in the race because he had to serve a 3 place starting grid penalty from China. He qualified P18. So you might be wondering why Danny was seemingly on fire for the sprint and sprint qualifying but then seemed to be slow again in the race qualifying. The answer is that changing a car from sprint set up to race setup can be pretty big and if they don’t get it right it can be costly. We saw the same thing with Lewis in China, P2 in the sprint and then back to the middle of the pack during the race.

Were it not for that grid penalty he likely would have finished the race just outside the points. Danny started P20 and finished P15 so he did make up some good places. 

Yuki had a good weekend, coming in P8 in the sprint and getting that single point and then P7 in the race with another 6 points, he is still very much the more consistent of the two drivers in the VCARB car as far as bringing in the points goes. Like he is now in P10 in the driver standings with 14 points, behind Lewis Hamilton who is in 9th with 27 points.  

All in all a good weekend for VCARB and I must say they did have the nicest looking car on the grid as well. 

Red Bull

This was Max’s worst actual race so far this year. In Australia he had to DNF due to a mechanical failure, nothing to do with his driving. Here he for sure made some mistakes. Some of that was due to car setup, and some of that was some error on his part. Either way it’s his weakest performance since Singapore 2023. Still to say this and have him still be in P2 and P1 in the sprint shows just how strong of a driver he is. 

What cost him the most was when he didn’t have grip going into turn 16, cut the corner and took out the bollard cone. This cost him time, and some slight floor damage. Due to an error, as well as the lack of grip the RB-20 was struggling with all weekend. I think he’d have been a little faster were it not for this damage. 

To come in P2 as a weak showing with a car that was clearly not setup well all weekend just shows how fast the RB-20 is and also speaks to Max's skill as a driver.

Checo’s race wasn’t great. That start was way too much, but after that he kept his head down and didn’t cause more trouble. He finished P5 but jumped up to P4 after Carlos received that 5 second penalty. His weakest race so far this year as well.

All in all for Red Bull both their drivers were not in top form this weekend. That does indicate that the RB-20 was not performing as well on this track and in these conditions. Interesting to see and promising for any team hoping to catch up to them in the standings.

 

Mercedes

This was Mercedes second best race of the season. Lewis was finally comfortable in the car and came in P6 after starting P8. George started P7 and finished P8. Not George’s best race or performance, but as a team this result this is overall the second best points wise since Bahrain. 

Lewis especially put in a great showing. His overtake on Nico was a memorable moment, just a textbook Hamilton overtake, smooth, just great to see him racing after that car has been letting him down so much this season. 

Also this is the first race where Lewis outperformed George. He obviously did in the China sprint, but this is the first Grand Prix where he was ahead of George. This may be a sign that he has found some solutions to the issues he’s been facing with his car setup, or possibly conditions were more favorable for him on track. He’s Lewis so I am thinking this is part of a slow but steady comeback to doing the best possible in that car. Make no mistake the current Mercedes car is limiting both drivers. But it’s had moments of getting to the top 5 or at least not far from the top 5 so there is more to unlock in that car.

Haas

Haas in the sprint was funny. I’m sorry the strategy was the same as Jeddah, Kevin commits crimes and doesn’t care about penalties so long as he holds up the field to protect Nico so Nico can get points. It worked in Jeddah. Worked in the sprint, and worked in the race. It’s certainly an interesting strategy. 

Now with all the penalties Kevin has collected this weekend and the rest of the season if he gets one more he will have enough penalty points to be suspended for a race. Obviously not great for him or for Haas but he doesn’t seem too worried about that. 

Haas has been working well as a team and really taken up all the minor points at the tail end of the field. The teamwork has really paid off. 

Is completely sacrificing one driver and letting him run rampant across the track a good long term approach? Probably not. But there aren’t any rules against it. If Haas are willing to do it to get points then I guess fair play. It’s mostly just really entertaining to watch. Yes it has messed up a lot of driver’s races so far this season, but you cannot deny it has made for entertaining moments and battles. 

His most egregious crime was when he made contact with Logan during the race causing Logan's DNF. Obviously the penalty was deserved, he did not have position going into that corner and Logan was powerless to do anything about it.

I will agree with Kevin and say “All of the penalties were well deserved”

I do have the theory that Kevin is going for an all time record for most penalty points accumulated during a single race, a single season, and all of F1 history, and he’s actually on track to get at least one of those records. So if he wants to be remembered for his crimes on track this is certainly a way to do it. Best of luck to him in that endeavor!

Kevin Magnussen was the most entertaining driver of the weekend. Love him or hate him he had your attention.

Williams

Williams had the worst race as a team. Alex was struggling in the car all weekend including during the race getting one of his worst placements finishing P18. The Williams car has been bad all season, we knew that, but on this track the race setup they went with was also not great. 

Logan actually got Williams best result all season with that P10 in the sprint race. No points, but given how the car and team have struggled showing that the car can get into P10 is something. 

However during the race Logan DNFed due to a collision with Kevin. Kevin was at fault, he charged through the turn and forced Logan off the track. Logan had the line and hadn’t done anything wrong. Kevin was just being reckless and took that turn way too sharply. 

Logan was sent into the barrier and had to retire. Extremely unfortunate considering it was his home race. His radio messages indicated that he was injured, likely biting his lip or his tongue during the crash. Hopefully he recovers quickly. 

It was a shame because Logan was on pace to have his best weekend of 2024, and it was ended through no fault of his own driving.

Final Thoughts

This was another very interesting race. Some spicy on track battles, a maiden win for Lando, and Ferrari was strong on track against the other two top teams. 

All in all an entertaining race. 

See you all at Imola! 

#lucis race analysis #miami gp 2024 #charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #long post

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

The Lookalike (Part 7)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, then into the arms of the radio demon himself. 

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, reader x Alastor, reader x Vox, Alastor x Vox, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios, injury, gratuitous use of tentacles.

☒ Series links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE

The fight you’d had with Alastor hadn’t exactly quelled your bloodlust, but it had taken the edge off. He still hadn’t let you leave the hotel, though, and you could guess the reason. The pending confrontation gave a purpose to the edginess you felt, and you were settled into a quiet, predatory waiting.

You made the small preparations you could, and listened to Alastor’s record collection on the newly repaired player.

It was a little scary how quickly the bedtime routine had charmed you, the half hour of quiet before Alastor would sigh and put his book aside, lights dimming, his body warm through the thin fabric of your pajamas. Sometimes you would kiss, sometimes you would talk in the dark, limbs casually twined. Your conversations had moved to more dangerous topics than mere pleasantries; now you talked about musical theory and parts of your mortal lives, topics that you could argue about and secrets that were sweet, inconsequential morsels of each other. The death of a childhood pet, the use of steel guitar on a certain record, a half-remembered fairground treat. All of this was bookended by his smiling lips soft against yours, at once chaste and suggestive. His kisses were a question- would you debase yourself, ask for more than he was so generously giving? Or would you simply close your eyes and hope that his lips would part for you, that the tips of his sharp teeth would graze your lips, his tongue twining against yours?

Sometimes he would do the latter, kissing you until the ache of arousal resounded like a drumbeat between your legs, and then draw back, smiling, and announce that he was going to sleep.

In the morning, both of you would wake but not admit to having done so, basking in the plausible deniability of the early hours. His breathing, steady rather than deep, told you that the way he pressed against you was deliberate, and you suspected that your breathing told him the same as you twined your fingers with his and raised his hand to your lips. The noise that escaped him was soft, somewhere between a sigh and a squeak, and when you rose from the bed, his eyes held the unspoken expectation that you would tell no-one of it.

That morning was languid, waking as usual with Alastor, performing your ablutions, dressing, and sitting down for breakfast. Food in Hell was an odd mix, really. Some things tasted pretty normal, considering the changes to your physiology. Others, well.

You watched as Alastor dumped the rotting deer carcass on the table. “Really?”

Alastor’s gaze was knowing. “Sit.”

There were flies buzzing around the corpse. One landed on the head, crawling between the creatures ears, and the scent of decay was ripe and heavy. You didn’t have a particularly weak stomach; couldn’t afford to, but everything about this was making your brain scream that this wasn’t food. “If this disagrees with me, then-”

“Then?” Alastor raised an eyebrow.

“Then you’ll want me in a different bedroom.”

“Darling.” Alastor gave a snort of laughter as he took his seat. “If I wanted to poison you, I wouldn’t need to go to such lengths.” He stuck a fork in the side of the deer, twisted it, and pulled a chunk of meat out for himself, popping it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

Rather than give you the fork, he skewered a second forkful of meat himself, twisting it out, and offered it, tines first.

The smell alone made you want to recoil, but Alastor had eaten the flesh, and you did trust him. Enough to fight down your baser instincts, and accept the gift, at least.

You opened your mouth and let him feed you, keeping your eyes on his. The venison wasn’t bad, actually. The sweetness of the rot took away the gamey edge of the meat, and rendered it more tender than the flesh of a wild animal had any right to be. Your opinion clearly registered on your face, because Alastor’s smile widened a little, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“See? What did I tell you?”

Truthfully, you didn’t mind the treatment he gave you, and being fed morsels by him was part of that. In isolation it would have felt strange, but having woken up draped over each other a half hour previously, you simply soaked in the flash of pride that flickered across his face as he saw you enjoying the dish.

He was feeding you a second forkful as Vaggie burst into the room. “Alastor, there’s a documentary crew-”

Alastor turned his head towards her, only his head, the fork remaining by your mouth. “It’s rude to enter a gentleman’s room unannounced, you know,” he said, mildly.

Vaggie looked at Alastor, then you, then Alastor, expression somewhere between irritation and disgust. “There’s a whole load of them, and we could really use a hand.”

“Could you now?” Alastor turned back to you, dabbing your bottom lip with a napkin. “The king of Hell missing in action, is he?”

“Just come help,” said Vaggie, with a shake of her head.

Alastor smiled broadly. “Absolutely not.” His expression shifted subtly, to a smile that you had learned to associate with Alastor being pleased with himself. “I believe we had an agreement. That I would never be required to engage with the frivolous technology known as television ever again.”

Vaggie glared at him. “You’re still holding me to that?”

“Of course! I take all of my deals very seriously.” Alastor tilted his head. “Was that all? I was hoping to finish my breakfast with my friend here.”

Vaggie slammed the door on the way out, a few choice curse words in her wake.

“You’re worried,” you said, watching Vaggie leave. Approaching Alastor in the work day would have him waving you away with a snide nothing, but for now you were alone and unobserved.

His ear twitched towards you, eyes not leaving the door. “Vox is well within my capabilities,” he replied, a little terse. Despite all his talk, Alastor was on edge. You could tell from the strained corners of his eyes, the way his shadow flickered and skulked.

You watched him carefully. Vox was a sore spot; the two of them had history. Questioning Alastor’s capabilities at this point, or even pointing out his injuries, would only earn you his ire. “I have skin in this game too.”

“You are a freshly dead soul,” said Alastor, pointedly. He was right, in a way. You had no power; neither shadows or electricity at your command. The only element that could feasibly be yours to command was the element of surprise. “As I said before, if you can avoid his hypnosis, that would be convenient. I’d rather not have to disable you.”

You gave him a long stare, your gaze settling on his throat, where he still wore his collar buttoned high. “You’re sure there’s nothing else I can do?”

“No. Although…” Alastor gave you a sultry look. “If you could see to it that you’re smiling today?”

Vox was sure this was a trap.

But fuck it if he wasn’t about to go in anyway. Velvette would tear him a new one for going in without consulting her. Val would tear him a new one for not inviting him along to Angel Dust’s living space. Vox had considered the latter, but dealing with Valentino’s probable tantrum over Angel Dust on top of whatever Alastor had planned for him was too much on the plate, even for him.

Being in the radio demon’s territory like this, even with the invitation, felt wrong. It made Vox feel uneasy. The feeling wasn’t helped by the lack of electronics in the hotel; about half the light fixtures seemed to be powered by angelic magic rather than actual electricity, and someone, Alastor if Vox had to guess, had set up Faraday enclosures in the walls through much of the rest of the hotel, which had the documentary staff complaining about poor signal, and Vox worrying about escape routes if this went badly. Yeah, this was definitely a trap.

Alastor traipsed through the hotel in your usual outfit of waistcoat, shirtsleeves and definitely not Alastor novelty fez, allowing himself a small smile for decency’s sake. It was strange how differently the other staff treated him in your disguise; even grumpy old Husker gave him a perfunctory nod as he passed, which he returned with a gesture he’d seen you perform, touching his index and ring finger to his brow.

Charlie was showing the film crew around, her smile as big as anything as she talked about the hotel’s mission, and the process of rebuilding the hotel after the failed extermination. As Alastor suspected, Vox was there, tailing behind the rest of the group.

Of course, you hadn’t picked a moniker for yourself yet, which wasn’t all that uncommon for fresh souls. Angel Dust called you Smiles Two briefly, before switching to a joking Full Range of Facial Expressions. Husk and Vaggie both stuck with Murder Twin, and Niffty had for some reason that Alastor couldn’t fathom settled on calling you Comrade. As far as Alastor had seen you were entirely beneath Lucifer’s notice, but on her handful of visits Angel Dust’s friend Cherri referred to you as Resting Bitch Face Alastor.

“Oh, hey there-” Charlie waved, clearly hesitant on the prospect of calling someone Murder Twin in front of a documentary crew.

“Charlie! Hello!” Alastor softened his transatlantic accent just slightly to sound more like you. “No time to chat, I have rooms to clean!”

“Oh, okay!” chirped Charlie, as Alastor sauntered past. “Keep up the good work!”

Alastor made a show of noticing Vox as he passed the group. Just as truth made the foundation for all the best lies, so to did true feeling make the best foundation for a charade. Alastor centered his memories of Vox; of poor, hopeless young Vox, so eager to impress. That Vox, he had been very fond of, once upon a time. And now? Vox’s power worried him, planting seeds of fear in his heart. In his current state, he could not afford a direct confrontation. Alastor called on all of this for his expressions. At the first glance, he let his eyes widen with shock, his smile faltering but not falling, before he turned to go.

Vox wasn’t stupid enough to chase Alastor down a blind corridor, but he was stupid enough to chase someone he thought was you. Alastor’s face broke into a grin as he heard Vox come after him, splitting from the group. The rebuilt hotel was a maze of corridors, and Alastor made sure to lead Vox down a few before coming to the planned dead end, facing the wall.

Vox grabbed Alastor, arm around his waist. “He’s made you into a fucking janitor? You shoulda stayed with me, baby.”

Alastor shoved down the shriek of distortion that rose within him at the unwanted contact. “Get your hands off of me.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.” Vox was wheedling, now. He had learned that from Alastor. “I could treat you like royalty.” His touch was much too familiar, claws trailing below the navel to Alastor’s hips, and the thought of him touching you like this left a burnt, sour taste in Alastor’s mouth.

“Oh, could you now?” Alastor let the act slip, let his antlers grow, let his filters lend distortion and depth to his voice. “That’s not what you said in your last broadcast.”

Vox’s eyes grew wide as the realization that he had just bodily grabbed the radio demon settled in. He let go, stepping back. “Fuck! Alastor!”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Alastor smiled to himself as he turned. He had Vox right where he needed him, off balance and falling into reflexive deference. In this sort of state, using his hypnosis wouldn’t even occur to the man. “Did you mistake me for my double? And after we’ve known each other for so long, too. I’m disappointed.”

“You tricked me, you old timey-” Vox started, but when he saw the look in Alastor’s eyes, he flinched. “I’m fuckin’ sorry, okay? It’s hard to tell the difference.”

“That was a very familiar embrace you gave me,” said Alastor, stepping forward, intruding into Vox’s personal space. “Could it be that you’re fond of my little impostor? That you’ve come to get them back?”

Alastor watched Vox’s face closely. Even now, after their estrangement, the man was an open book to him, and he registered the slight panic as his statement hit home. Vox was very fond of you, it seemed. All the more reason for Alastor to make his claim clear.

Vox didn’t admit it, though, and took a deep breath before he spoke. “No,” he lied, eyes closed. “I’m just here to talk about your offer. That’s all.”

Alastor smiled. “Splendid,” he said.

“Holy shit.” Vox sat back in his chair, exhaling. “You’re actually going to let me watch? From the armchair?”

The three of you were sat round a table in Alastor’s room, wards on the door so thick that the flies from the swamp dropped dead when they flew near it. As per Alastor’s instructions, you kept smiling, careful not to make prolonged eye contact with Vox. Vox’s gaze kept flicking between you, Alastor, and the neatly made bed behind you

“For a price, yes.” Alastor’s eyebrows rose, his grin predatory. “I might be old fashioned about these things, but I still have an eye for when something is going for considerably higher than the expected market rate. And when someone petitions a power higher than myself to breach my privacy, well. I’d be a fool if I didn’t at least consider a counter-offer. Particularly when I stand to lose nothing.”

“Alastor.” Vox’s expression froze briefly, as if he was having trouble processing what he was hearing.

“After all-” Alastor’s smile widened. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, isn’t that right, old chum?”

You sat back and listened to the two of them negotiate. It was only pragmatic that Alastor do the talking. He knew Vox better than you did, and had a clear notion of the worth of things in Hell, whereas you were only vaguely aware of the currencies available. Your job, as you had discussed with Alastor, was to keep Vox distracted and off-balance.

As Alastor conjured the contract he had prepared from the air beside him, your hand went to your neck, loosening your cravat with a sigh. Your reward was Vox’s eyes on you instantly, hungry.

You ran your gaze up his body, from the slight tent in his pants to the bow tie at his collar, watching his larynx bob as he swallowed saliva. It helped that it wasn’t entirely one-sided; for all his flaws you knew that Vox was still a good lay, and the sight of him wasn’t an unwelcome one.

Alastor tapped the table with a single, impatient talon. “If you’re keen to begin, you can simply sign the contract as-written,” he said.

Fortunately for Vox, his erection hadn’t quite siphoned all of the blood from his brain. “Lemme read it first,” he growled, taking the papers into his hands.

As Alastor had predicted, Vox was skim-reading, checking for clauses that would forfeit his soul or his power, too off-balance and horny to do much more. There were no such clauses- Alastor considered it poor sport- but what the document did contain were a multitude of conditions that meant the voyeurism was exactly to Alastor’s specification. No recordings, for example. And no touching.

“I’m adding a requirement,” said Vox, turning to the last page.

“Oh?” Alastor’s smile was steady

“I get to see you cum.”

Alastor gave a hiss like water falling on a hot pan, his eyes turning black, and you felt like he was seconds away from ripping out Vox’s heart and feeding it to him.

“C’maan, this is a fair ask.” Vox raised his hands in protest. “If I’m paying for it, it can’t just be an act, yeah? I should get to see you lose yourself, for real.”

Alastor’s grin was fixed in place as he reached for the contract, eyes skimming Vox’s wording. “I suppose that is a fair expectation,” he said, a note of reluctance in his voice. “I’ll grant it.”

You sat on the bed, letting Alastor undress you as Vox watched from the overstuffed yellow armchair by the headboard. He was pretending nonchalance, but it was clear that this wasn’t something that was meant to last.

“Darling,” said Alastor, in a tone of voice tuned precisely to make you feel your own pulse through your body. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

You watched him as he undid the buttons on your shirt, steady and unhurried, and brushed the back of his hand with your fingertips, letting the touch linger. “I’m yours,” you said, not just for Alastor, but for Vox, who was listening.

Your reward was a kiss, sweet and soft as anything you’d shared in the privacy of your nights together. It was enough for you to close your eyes, leaning into him as his hot tongue stroked yours. You embraced him, forearms locking behind his head, your fingers in his hair.

Jealousy. Jealousy was the axis upon which everything turned, two demons seizing the whole of the world with their fists and screaming in indignation at the debris that squeezed out between their fingers. And you were caught in this hellish mechanism; between Vox, who saw you as Alastor’s pale shadow, and Alastor, who saw you as a part of himself, saw the comfort he sought from your body as merely a medium for self-pleasure.

Vox’s eyes on you were jealous; jealous of your proximity to Alastor, the way he spread you out under him, touching you through the material of your trousers, but also jealousy of Alastor, to have you under him so rapt, so pliant.

Alastor’s eyes on you were jealous; jealous of having to share you with anyone. He begrudged Vox even the sight of you, and so he greedily filled your vision with him and only him, prompting affirmation from your words as he removed your clothes, piece by piece.

“Tell me that you’re mine. My possession, my property. My thing.”

Not for the first time, you were naked under Alastor, your cock hard and weeping, precum beading and dribbling from the tip.

“I’m yours,” you repeated, voice catching in your throat as Alastor pressed his palm to your cock, curling fingers around your shaft. “All yours, Alastor.”

“Fuck,” Vox breathed, his voice down at the bottom of his register and laden with vocal fry.

“Nice try, old pal,” said Alastor, his eyes still firmly on you and undertones of arousal creeping into his voice. “But I believe our contract stipulates that you don’t get to make requests.”

Part of you had been surprised that Alastor had drafted the contract to allow Vox to speak at all, but you could see the way his cock hardened in his trousers as he shut Vox down. There was one thing that Alastor loved more than anything, and that was being in control of a situation.

“Now,” Alastor continued, his smile wide, and you were quite happy to let him continue, with his grip on your cock applying the perfect amount of pressure, a lazy slide up and down your shaft. “If you would like to renegotiate we can all put our clothes back on and sit down, and-”

“Oh, hell no-” Vox backtracked rapidly. “This is fuckin’ peachy, Al. Great. I swear.”

“I see.” Alastor smirked. He turned his attention back you you. “Would you like a tentacle in you, darling?”

Your eyes must have widened, because he added. “You seemed to enjoy it, last time.”

Vox cursed to himself as you nodded yes, and Alastor pushed your thighs apart, extending a tentacle from his back. You reached up, stroking Alastor’s thigh, then his cock, through the material of his trousers as he pushed his tentacle into you. His grip on your cock tightened fractionally as you stroked him, the tentacle making an obscene, wet noise as he fucked the first couple inches of it back and forth into your cunt. The motion was almost teasing, the tentacle playing at sensitive flesh rather than seeking further egress, and you whined at the sensation.

“Oh, fuck me that’s hot. I can’t believe you’re using those like that- you got any idea how many people I’ve seen him kill with those things?”

“I’m fairly sure he’s killed people with his hands too,” you murmured, and Alastor gave a bark of laughter, completely unrehearsed, his expression softening utterly for a fraction of a second into fondness before he resumed the grin he’d worn a second prior, tentacle squelching deeper into your cunt for good measure.

You whimpered at the stretch, stroking the shaft of his cock between the palm and heel of your hand, and Alastor rocked his hips, a low vacuum tube hum in his throat as he rutted into your touch, his hand around your cock falling into the same languid rhythm. You unfastened his fly, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and took it into your hand. Alastor gave a pleased noise as you settled your grip, his skin almost hot to the touch.

“Holy shit.” Vox’s eyes were fixed on the two of you, practically hypnotized by the scene, his usually brash tone rendered almost reverent. His hand went to his own fly, and he gave a yelp as something forced him back into the chair.

“Ah ah ah,” Alastor looked up from you for a moment, his expression gleeful, the tentacle inside you stilling alongside his hand.

“Alastor, what the fuck.” Vox’s arms were pulled to the arms of the chair by luminous green chains, and he strained against them. It was the first time you’d seen the constraints of a deal hit someone like that, and it wasn’t at all what you had expected.

“The contract states that you can masturbate if given permission,” said Alastor, his grin almost gleeful. “I have not yet given permission.”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg?” Vox’s screen glitched.

“Oh Voxxy, you always were a quick study.” Alastor’s smile was broad, his cock in your hand hot and hard. “Yes. Please. Beg.”

“Oh, fuck.” Vox’s screen shimmered briefly pink, segments of pink remaining below his eyes. “Fuck me that’s fucking depraved.”

“Hm.” Alastor smiled to himself, his gaze going back to you. “That doesn’t sound much like begging to me.”

“C’maan, Alastor, don’t be like that.” Vox’s tone was wheedling. “Just let a guy touch himself, please.” He drew out the last please into three syllables, a whine.

“You can do better than that,” Alastor said.

“You’re breakin’ my balls here, Al. I need this.”

“You need this?”

“Al, please, I’m beggin’ ya.”

Alastor gave a pleased hum. “Better. Continue.”

“Please, please.” There was a proper edge of desperation to Vox’s voice now, his eyes fluttering closed. “This is all I can think of. I close my eyes and I see you going at it in the swamp, Al. I need it, please let me.”

“You need it.”

“Yes,” Vox hissed, his voice going a little high, a dark spot at the apex of the tent in his pants where his precum had soaked through the fabric.

“You’re a depraved little creature.”

“Al, please-”

“Say it.”

“I’m the one who’s depraved.”

“You’re the one who needs to come into a gentleman’s bedroom and watch.”

Vox flashed teeth. “Oh, fuck you!”

“I don’t believe that was on the table,” said Alastor, his smile cruel, and you felt his cock swell fractionally in your hand.

It was fascinating, watching Vox’s erection duel with his self-respect. You watched with Alastor as the man swallowed the final scrap of his pride, voice cracking a little as his spoke. “Please, Al. I’m the sick, pathetic fuck who needs to come into your bedroom and watch you. I’m so hard right now and it hurts, just let me touch myself. Please. I’m begging.”

“Oh, Vox. You can’t even cage a freshly minted replica of me. A failure as a jailer and a lover.” Alastor’s thumb went to your jaw, slowly tracing a line over your skin up to your temple. “So, I suppose I should show pity.”

“Please, Alastor-” Vox whimpered, and Alastor slowly inclined his head. Vox gasped as the condition lifted, and he hurried to free his own cock. “Fu-uck.”

You felt a twinge of desire as you saw it, remembering how tenderly and skillfully he had brought you to orgasm, and Alastor must have felt it around the tentacle inside you, because he looked at you sharply, eyes dark.

“Eyes on me now, darling,” said Alastor, a claw on your cheek giving you little other choice. “We don’t want our guest getting self-conscious, now.”

As if he hadn’t gotten halfway to his own end just by making Vox beg. The hypocrite. Still, the possessiveness was a turn-on. You smiled up at Alastor, giving his cock a deliberate, slow, squeeze. “I’m yours, remember.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, mollified. “I should hope so,” he said, mirroring your gesture with the cruel addition of a curl of the tentacle inside you, pressing spongy flesh that drew a cry from your lips.

He leaned forward, supporting his weight on a second tentacle as he drew you in for a kiss. Where his kisses were usually considered and leading, this was fervent and messy, leaving you gasping for air when it broke, lips burning. He pushed your hand from his cock and brought your hips in line with his, shifting his grip so that your cock pressed against his, his long fingers wrapping around both.

“Alastor-” you managed to whimper, and he smiled.

You held on for dear life as Alastor did his damnedest to wreck you. His mouth covered yours, teeth and tongue and the taste of hot blood, rendering you breathless and voiceless save for the cries you made into his mouth. His cock was pressed firmly against yours, hot and hard and heavy, both of them wrapped in the steady curl of his fingers and palm. His tentacle was inside your cunt, deep enough for you to feel the stretch, hitting each sweet spot inside you hard enough to draw helpless, animal cries from your throat. His antlers were close to yours but not enmeshed, enough that you felt their static hum. You stroked Alastor’s shoulders, his back and down to his hips, doing your best to clutch at him without ruining his clothes, each roll of his hips threatening to make you curl your fingers and claw him.

“Fuck,” hissed Vox, his jerking off matching Alastor’s frantic rhythm, but Alastor was too preoccupied with your mouth to scold him. If Vox hadn’t spoken you might have forgotten he existed, the sensation of Alastor’s cock pressed hard against yours bright as fire in your brain, his bullying tentacle pushing you fast towards your precipice.

Alastor must have been less lost in the moment than he seemed, because he pulled the tentacle out of you just as you were nearing your end, leaving you gasping, cunt twitching, and deftly angled himself in just in time to feel you pulse around his cock. Your cum splattered your own stomach and chest, some on Alastor’s shirt, judging by the wet patches that had formed over his chest, and he smiled down at you, something like pride in his red eyes as he held your hips, keeping himself firmly inside you as you came.

“Fuck man, what a mess,” groaned Vox, voice tinged with admiration.

Alastor hummed in agreement, his eyes narrowing as he felt the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I can’t say I think much better of your state right now though, old chum,” he said, his tone conversational. “You’re getting pretty sloppy yourself.”

Vox groaned again, and you realized that you could hear the rhythmic noise of his fist wrapped around his cock. “Al,” he whined.

Alastor just laughed to himself, and hooked your knees over his shoulders, his cock still firmly in your cunt. “Shall we begin?” he asked, and to his credit, he did wait for a nod from you before he did.

Though his cock was less impressive than the tentacle, with your legs on his shoulders and a slight forward tilt, he was able to reach all of the sweet spots the tentacle had. Your throat hurt from crying out, and your spent cock lolled untended below your navel, but the feeling of having your guts rearranged was still exquisite. Your cum pooled in the hollows of your collarbones as Alastor fucked you, your cunt still oversensitive, your cock not even soft yet, bouncing with each stroke, in time with the noises you made as the motion forced air from your lungs.

You were dully aware of Vox’s orgasm; his movement ceasing with a low moan, and Alastor’s smirk as he watched his rival coming undone.

“What’s this? Can’t stick it out til the end?” Alastor’s grin was fierce, his own breathing growing unsteady as his motion ripped another cry from your throat, his red shirt darkening with sweat.

“Fuck you,” Vox choked out.

Alastor grinned wide, teeth gleaming. “Never going to happen,” he taunted, and you felt the telltale twitch of his cock inside you as he closed on his own orgasm.

He grasped you more tightly as he chased it, intent on your voice and your eyes, bending you double a little more, a little more, until at last your thighs were pressed flush with your chest, and he kissed your lips, softly, as he hit that final sweetness. His cock pulsed inside you, once, with a wave of heat, before he pulled out, a second arc of cum hitting you neatly across the chest, then a third, then a fourth which landed in a hot line on your stomach.

“That- should fulfill everything,” said Alastor, sitting back heavily and tucking himself back into his pants. “You can go now.”

“What?” Vox blinked. He looked like you felt; stunned.

“The sex is over. The curtain has fallen. The show, concluded.” Alastor gave him a little wave. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“Shit.” Vox sucked in air through his teeth. “You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that Al?”

“And you’re a voyeur who inserts himself into people’s private lives,” said Alastor, with a thin smile. “Each of us has his burden to bear.”

Vox left with a stream of curses, slamming the door behind him, and Alastor lay down on his back on the bed, his smile a small, tight expression.

The wet spots forming on the front of Alastor’s shirt weren’t from sweat or cum, but blood.

“You’ve split your stitches,” you said, feeling a wave of guilt for not noticing sooner. Of course his pace had been more frenetic than usual; he’d been racing to push Vox out the door before Vox noticed.

Alastor looked as if he might deny everything, but closed his eyes instead, his smile tense. “If you could fetch me the surgeon’s kit?” he asked.

You picked up one of the towels left beside the bed for the purpose and gave yourself a cursory wipe down before stalking naked, first to the en suite to wash your hands with soap, then to the shelf where the tools were kept.

“You didn’t need to strain yourself like that,” you said, placing the wooden box down on the bed beside him and unclipping the clasps.

“Oh?” Alastor stared listlessly at the canopy above the bed. “What was my alternative?”

You retrieved the disinfectant, cotton, thread, needle and scissors, the same tools Alastor had used to stitch your arm, alongside a roll of bandages. “You could let me top.”

“In front of Vox?” Alastor gave a mirthful exhalation. “I would rather not let you deflower me in front of him, thank you.”

Deflower? Well, you couldn’t see him putting himself in the position of a submissive partner, at least not willingly. “But in general you have no objection?”

Alastor’s face colored, his gaze leaving yours. “Maybe,” he said. “Another night.”

For the first time, you unbuttoned Alastor’s shirt rather than the reverse. For someone who had seen you naked so many times, Alastor was surprisingly bashful, his gaze not meeting yours as you peeled away the bloody red fabric to reveal the soaked bandages beneath. You were struck with the desire to touch him, to run your palm over the soft concave lines of his belly, but you suspected that such a touch would be met with a blast of distressed audio, so instead you picked up the scissors, and set to work cutting the bandages away.

Alastor had never looked as small or as vulnerable as he did beneath you, his bloodied bandages peeled back. There was an ugly wound across his narrow chest, from his collar to his stomach and deepest over his sternum, the flesh either side livid and pink. He’d sewn it closed himself; you could tell by the way the stitches grew uneven as they grew closer to his dominant arm, and several of those nearest the center had ripped, the flesh on the side of the wound tearing where the thread had pulled it closed. Blood dribbled from the injury as Alastor’s chest rose and fell. If you hadn’t known that Alastor had been bearing the injury for as long as you’d known him, you would have guessed it had been made yesterday.

“I didn’t ask you to help with this,” he said, a worried edge to his smile, his ears lowering.

But, he did want your help, was the unspoken implication. “It’ll be easier for me to reach,” you pushed, more to preserve his pride than anything else. “It’s a pain to sew yourself up, after all.”

“Speaking from experience, I take it?” Alastor’s ears perked up a little, his eyes meeting yours.

You told him a story as you cleaned and stitched his wound, about how the hospitals in your old city always treated these sort of injuries with such suspicion, reporting them to the police. About how hospitals were overpriced and overrated anyway, and how anything that couldn’t be fixed at home with the correct tools probably wasn’t worth worrying about anyway. You kept talking, more to distract Alastor from the pain than anything else, and he watched you work with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“You’re good at this,” he said, as he watched you pin his bandages into place, fresh and bright white against his skin, and you felt the compliment bring heat to your cheeks.

“I’ll get you a fresh shirt,” you said, turning to go, but Alastor caught hold of you, drawing you to him. You felt the warmth of his bandaged chest against your back as he draped himself over you, the warmth of his bare arms around you.

Alastor breathed out heavily, a shaky sort of breath, his lips in your hair. “You will do no such thing,” he said, a tremor in his voice. “You will hold me. You will lie here and you will hold me.”

It was a silly demand, but you could do nothing save obey it. Not because a chain of obligation compelled you, but rather that your heart would not allow it to be otherwise.

#alastor x reader #vox x reader #alastor x vox #alastor x reader x vox #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #vox x y/n #vox x you #hazbin x reader #vox x alastor #alastor smut #vox smut

[midnightsxblue]

VIRGINITY (PART TWO)

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t recommend yall)

masterlist here!

read part one here!

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

The day you lost your virginity, everything seemed so…weird. Rick and Michonne had planned to go on a run for a couple of days and the two of you were left with Judith. You’d both asked for advice from Glenn and Maggie and while you got some pretty good advice, Carl got an awkward conversation and a condom.

This was your chance. That morning, you and Carl woke up early to say goodbye to them. “The two of you are gonna be here with Judith, okay? I have Daryl sort of keepin an eye on you so behave.” Rick tells you, packing some cans of food from the pantry into his bag. You look to Carl with sort of an annoyed look. He returns the same.

“Understand?” You both turn to Rick and nod. “Yeah we got it.” Carl replies. Now you had to figure out a way to get Daryl off your back as well. “I trust ‘em.” Michonne approaches from behind you, putting her hand on your shoulder while giving you a smile. You smile at her back, knowing you’re kinda lying to her. But you’re a horny teenager. You gotta do what you gotta do.

“Well…I’m sure they appreciate that. We gotta go.” Rick tells Michonne, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He makes his way through the house, the rest of you following after. You give them their hugs and say goodbye. Once the door slams shut, Judith starts crying. Screaming at the top of her fucking lungs.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You hold your head in your hands, unprepared for the headache about to overtake your brain. “Hey, don’t be stressed. We can use this to our advantage.” Carl smiles and picks up Judith as she sobbed, also grabbing a couple toys before walking out the front door. You watch him walk all the way over to the armory to hand her off to Olivia.

When he disappeared into the faraway house, you turned around to find something to do. When you do turn around, you’re met with Daryl. “Jesus what the fuck!” You practically jump back, Daryl just looks at you like you’re crazy. “Don’t do that, holy shit- where did you come from!?” You put your hand over your heart and try your best to catch your breath. “The back door.” He just stares at you till you’re done. You finally catch your breath.

“Do I seriously need to watch over the two of ya or can I go work on my bike?” He asks, you sort of hesitate for some odd reason, you felt bad for lying. “We’ll be fine. Probably gonna make some soup or something and I might go to the range later. I dunno what he’ll do, probably clean his gun.” You shock yourself with how elaborate that lie was. He nods. “Okay. I’ll see ya.” He made his way out the front door.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

A little later, Carl came back and met with you in your guys’ room where you were changing. He closed the door behind him and you turn around to smile at him, your shirt sliding off your arms. “Whatcha doing?” You ask with an endearing smile. He walks a bit closer. “Looking at you.” You giggle at his response. “You mean watching me change? That’s a bit perverted don’t you think?” You rummage through your closet for another shirt.

“I don’t think so.” He slowly comes up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist. He lodges his face into the crook of your neck where begins to plant harsh kisses. “Stop looking.” He tells you, lowering your arms from the clothes you had in your hand. You turn to face him and he smiles once you do. “You’re so pretty.” He puts his hand up to hold your cheek while he pulls you in for another kiss. This one was soft, the kind of kiss that really meant something. A feeling in your stomach told you things would only get better from here.

The kisses continue, only getting more intense and eventually his tongue slips into your mouth. You let out a small moan and you can feel him smile at that as he kissed you even more. You feel him pull you a little and you follow, your mouths still intertwined. He quickly spins you and plops you on the bed. He seemed confident on the outside, little did you know he was extremely nervous. You sit back with your arms propping you up and he leans in to kiss you again, his hands going straight to the buttons of your jeans. It’s quickly unbuttoned and he starts to tug them off you, standing to discard his own shirt as well.

Looking at him like this drives you insane. His messy hair, swollen lips, and the very obvious boner confined by his jeans. You were both scared and excited. Carl on the other hand was just really fucking horny. He got on the bed above you, one of his knees between your legs rutting against your clothed cunt. You let out yet another small moan and this prompts him to pull away and reach around to your back to unfasten your bra. Or try at least.

He was new to this, you can’t blame him. He fiddles with the clasp in a frustrated manner. “I just wanna see you.” He frowns, upset at himself for not being able to successfully take your bra off. You look at him with a sly smile. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead on yours, his hand freezing in place as he accepted defeat. “Could you help me please?” He has a defeated tone and you laugh, undoing the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms. While you did so, he worked on undressing you completely and then you waited for him to undress himself.

You’d palmed him once, you knew he wasn’t small but christ. Now you were definitely nervous. He smiled at you, basking in your beauty before leaning down to kiss a trail all the way from your stomach, up to your chest, to your neck. He was so unbelievably happy. He leaned back up to kiss you some more, his hand wandering down to your thigh, pulling it up. Your other thigh moves up instinctively and he pulls away to look down to actually do this.

He holds your legs at the back of your knees while guides himself to where he believes is the right spot. Glenn was a fucking liar. He has no idea what he’s doing. Maggie was right. Jesus this was so awkward. “Um…i-is this right or-” He stutters hoping you’d know how to guide him. You did, you helped him but not without accidentally sliding his tip against your clit, extracting a sharp moan from the both of you. Once he found your hole, he looked at you before slowly pushing into you.

Your mouth drops slightly at the feeling, his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “This okay?” He asked quietly, stopping to hear your response. “Mhm s’fine just keep going slow.” He nodded and kept pushing, eventually bottoming out. He was breathing heavily, and you were too but he seemed to be on another planet. “A-are you okay?” You sort of giggle. His eyes are shut and he nods. “Just really tight that’s all.” He says breathlessly, gripping your thighs like he was never gonna let go. “Mkay. you can start moving if-if you’re ready.”

Well he’s been ready. He begins to slowly stroke in and out of you, he opens his eyes and leans down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth and you wrap your arms around him. He props himself up to hover over you, still pressing his length into your now, sopping heat. He leans his head back into your neck, moaning against your skin while you leave indents on his back from your nails. “You’re so good, so warm n wet. l-love you s-so much. Please.” He rambled, not even sure why he was saying please.

You could only moan in response, muttering a small “I love you too”back. He started to thrust a bit faster, his pace only increasing. It got to the point where you couldn’t even speak. You could tell he was close to cumming, you were too. Everything felt so good, his affection was only making it ten times better. He was so sweet with you, he really wanted you to feel good and not just him. You were glad he was the one taking your virginity.

“Carl-f-fuck I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, your nails digging into his skin deeper than before which causes him to groan. “Mhm me too.” His voice sounds somewhat strained. You clench around him before cumming all over his cock, him following soon after. He bottoms out inside of you one last time, hitting your g-spot perfectly, causing you both moan loudly.

He smiles satisfactorily, pulling you into his embrace while he breathes heavily. “You’re so perfect.” He presses a kiss to your jaw and smiles against your skin. “You are. I feel so good.” You say basically astounded, reaching your hand up to rest in his hair. You spend a moment, just breathing and enjoying the afterglow.

Suddenly, Carl pulls away from your neck, and looks up as if he had heard something. You eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?”

“We forgot the condom.”

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

a/n: ok cuz i’m scared and nervous to post this but imma do it anyway THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT i hope it’s okayyy i feel like it was so sped up and im mad about it but let’s ignore that 0-0 hope you like ittttttttttt (im so scared right now you shut up)

ppl to tag: @zomb-1-egutzz

(sorry if u didn’t wanna be tagged for this LMAO)

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes smut #the walking dead carl #twd carl

[slytherinsrule89]

Hmmm what about a dark riddle brothers x reader non con ? Something like the reader is their enemy . Maybe you can put reader as Harry's gf or sister and they both get enraged by you so they "form a plan" to show you your place and also weaken Harry 🤭🤭

Okay I went a little off closer to the end I think but hopefully it’s still good :)

This does contain smut and other sensitive things so please be aware and don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable

Riddle brothers x reader

Word count: 1639

You had been an enemy of the Riddles for as long as you could remember. They were cruel and disgusting and you despised every inch of the two brothers. The feeling was mutual as well, they hated you just as much as you hated them.

Being a Potter was pretty much the main reason they detested you. Along with you pissing them off about anything and everything because you knew that they hated you and could use it to your advantage.

You had been on your way to class, almost running there because you were late. Going to be even later when you accidently ran into two people, causing you to fall straight down a groan leaving your lips.

“Merlin’s sake wha-oh of course it’s you two.” You rolled your eyes in disgust, grabbing your books and picking yourself up as the Riddles practically towered over you. “God Potter, can you be any more pathetic?” Mattheo scoffed, shoving you aside.

Tom hadn’t said anything yet but with the look he was giving you, you’d be surprised that you aren't dead yet.

“Right like you two could say anything, you’re the most pathetic of them all.” Mattheo only laughed. The insults went back and forth between you and Mattheo before Tom stepped in which startled you a bit.

Tom didn’t often get into these little bickering’s and most of the time watched with distaste, so when he did it was better to make a run for it.

But being the ever so proud Gryffindor you took a step closer, now standing right in front of Tom. A gutsy move proven by the way Tom had raised a brow at you, almost daring you to make another move.

You could sense the latent hostility between all three of you. It was a matter of who would strike first. Of course that person was Mattheo, considering he could never keep his mouth shut in situations like this with a lot of tension.

“Oh please Potter, you’re absolutely worthless. The only reason people actually talk to you is because your brother’s popular. Get it through your head that you are nothing.”

His words were ruthless and meant to hurt you deeply. Instead of getting upset though you looked him dead in the eyes and spoke.

“I’ve been called far worse by much better men. So I’d think again about who really is the worthless one here Riddle.” You walked off right after that sentence. Not really because you were scared but because the professor was going to kill you for being this late.

It hadn’t occurred to you how much that sentence would infuriate the Riddle brothers though and you continued on your day like nothing had even happened that morning.

The problem was that the brothers were anything but calm. They were hatching a plan at that very moment to get back at you. And if it was punishment from them that you’d be expecting, don’t think mercy will be given.

You had gone to bed early that night after such a long day. First being late, then being later from the encounter with the Riddles, your Professor hounding you about it as well because it wasn’t the first time you’ve been late.

So really you were exhausted and fell asleep quite quickly.

After what felt like the longest sleep of your life, you move to get out of bed. Only to realize…you weren’t even in a bed. Your eyes shot open after what felt like a small caress on your cheek. And there meeting your eyes, Tom Riddle.

He was crouched down looking at you with interest while you stared back in horror. What the hell had happened last night? How did you end up here?

All these questions had swarmed your mind, riddling your body with anxiety and trepidation. Tom had noticed this and only smirked at you an eerie feeling sinking in your stomach.

“Hello little dove” His voice was smooth and calm. A voice so solely his that you could never mistake it for another’s.

You had begun to look around much later than you should have but something in Tom’s eyes made it so alluring not to look away. The things you noticed were blood curdling.

You saw chains wrapped around your ankles and wrists. Curtains were open but only darkness could be seen, making you wonder what was really out there. And from how cold it was you could make a guess that you were in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

But it certainly didn’t seem like the slytherin dorms were anywhere near here which only unsettled you more. Just then the door made a creaking noise and in entered Mattheo with that cocky smile of his.

“Poor little Potter doesn’t look like she has much to say now does she?” He was right unfortunately but you don’t think you’ll ever admit to that.

It was suddenly that Tom had gripped your jaw in his hand and turned you back to him making that fear come back in a sudden pulse.

“Listen here little dove. The words that came out of your little mouth this morning is something you are going to regret for a long long time. And we are going to make sure of it.”

I was sure I was going to pass out right then. Their menacing eyes hadn’t looked away from mine at all and I only wished I’d known when to shut up and move on instead of running my mouth like I did. Especially with these two.

Tom's grip got tighter making me want to cry. Apparently Mattheo was good at reading expressions because he picked up on that quickly and crouched down beside his brother.

“You gonna cry pretty?” His tone was teasing. He knew exactly what he was doing. It was working too.

Though when I was least expecting it I felt Tom’s other hand glide against my leg before gripping my thigh roughly. He’d definitely have me pinned down if it wasn’t for the chains already there.

“Here’s the deal.” Tom began. “We are going to punish you how we see fit and you…little dove are going to take whatever we give you. If you try to deny us, it will only get worse.”

Like any human being you started freaking out and trying to refuse barely registering that you were ignoring what he just said about things getting worse. Boy was that stupid.

The second the words went to leave your mouth Tom had moved the hand gripping your jaw and shoved two fingers into your mouth making you gag hard around his fingers.

“Absolutely pathetic. Can’t even listen to a word I say.” Tom kept his fingers in your mouth and removed the one from your thigh only for Mattheo to swoop in. He took his brother's spot while Tom moved to your side.

Mattheo quickly removed the chains and relief rushed through you. That was until you felt his rough hands begin to grope at your thighs being sure that there will be bruises by tomorrow.

Without hesitation Mattheo had ripped off your sleep shorts without a care as you gasped in shock. Though that only encouraged Tom’s fingers to go deeper in your throat as you tried desperately not to gag.

You felt more and more of Mattheos' hands as they grew more daring. Playing with the soft lace outline of your panties almost teasing you as if to say “guess my next move.”

If you didn’t know what feeling nervous felt like before you definitely knew it now. Not knowing their next move was probably the worst of it.

And that was about the only thing your mind was saying when Mattheo pushed a finger into your hole, panties pushed to the side, and a shocked expression on your face. Both of the boys were smirking at you as he continued to swiftly move his finger in and out quickly before adding a second.

You bit down on your lip ruthlessly when Tom had pulled his fingers out of your mouth so that you could conceal your moans and not give them the satisfaction of it.

As Mattheos fingers continued their assault to your pussy Tom had untied the chains on your wrists as well with you hardly knowing it. He sat behind you now pulling up your shirt and tossing it to the side. Almost groaning at the sight of your braless tits.

His hands were quick to play with your nipples, relishing in how soft and warm they were. Your mind was a buzz to say the least. Mattheo’s fingers pumping in and out of you, Tom’s fingers against your bare chest, as well as his mouth creating dark spots around your neck.

The rest was a blur and just like that you sandwiched between the two with both of them fucking you relentlessly. Mattheo had been lying on his on his back fucking up into your pussy as he had you straddling his waist.

While Tom on the other hand had been above you, his cock hitting from behind, moving their bodies in sink, making you just want to melt into them.

“G-Gonna..mhphhh.” You sputtered out. The pleasure to overwhelming for your mind to come up with a proper sentence. However Tom had helped you out. “Gonna cum for us little dove, gonna cum because of the people you hate?”

You nodded quickly as your moans increased. Your orgasm hit you like a truck as you practically screamed out against Mattheo’s shoulder. He was the next to cum, spilling it all in your sweet cunt. Tom following suit.

Just as you were finally beginning to relax they had both pulled out of you and flipped you on your back.

“Not so fast. We aren’t even close to finishing your punishment.”

Hope you enjoy 😊

#slytherin boys #slytherin #:) <33 #tom riddle #smut #mattheo riddle #non con #riddle brothers #smuttyyy

[thewebcomicsreview]

Woah, it's a hamsteak! Bit early this month, maybe they're splitting it into two parts (Edit: Apparently yes, per a newspost). They've been teasing a big [S] page for a while, probably where the game starts in Meat and The Point is revealed in Candy, and these updates seem like they're getting everyone in position for that. We're now done with the Ship and with DIrk, and we won't see either until the [S] comes, but we still need to pick up the kids and see what Karkat is up to, so I'm expecting this is a setup-heavy update for an [S] page...next month, on 6/12? Let's see.

KARKAT: KEPT YOU WAITING, HUH?

Candy Karkat is blatantly Solid Snake and I'm a bit surprised the old team never had him riff a Snake catchphrase. New team popping that cherry right off. Also, wow, Karkles got swole.

MEENAH: took you long enough bossman KARKAT: I THOUGHT I ASKED YOU TO STOP CALLING ME THAT WHEN WE'RE ALONE. MEENAH: big bossman KARKAT: NOT BETTER. MEENAH: sweetie-pirate KARKAT: BOSSMAN IT IS.

We're just going all-in on the Metal Gear references, but Meenah loses fishpoints for not calling him Big Bass. It's right there, Meenah.

KARKAT: AS YOU MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE NOTICED THERE'S AN ESCALATING, LARGE-SCALE MILITARY CONFLICT UNDERWAY;

Is there? I hadn't noticed, because the war is entirely fucking offscreen in HS2, to the point where I'm really unclear on if it's huge open battles (as in the epilogues) or a terrorist insurgency (as implied by Jane's focus on PR, the lack of any on-screen fighting, and even here Karket saying he was blowing up "Crockercorp" supply depots instead of "human" supply depots). "Escalating" is an interesting word, though. I have a theory that Jane and Rose both don't consider any of Earth C's population "Real", and in Jane's mind she's basically just been larping as a bad guy up until her dad died and she got serious, and this is why Jane was seemingly cool with helping Jade raise Yiffy, even though Jade is a commander in the anti-Jane rebel army. Jane's going to just stop being evil on a dime and everyone but Rose and Jane are going to be baffled.

There was a writer commentary where they kept making jokes about doing this, but I guess it's real. Why is the Carapacian naked?

These guys, who are not guaranteed to survive to the end of the update, are already fucking great.

KARKAT: ALRIGHT, COMPANIES 1 THROUGH 3 ARE IN PLACE. KARKAT: 4 THROUGH 6 ARE EN ROUTE.

Is this the first 413 in HS2? I'm surprised they're not using 612, the troll number.

KARKAT: ALSO THIS COVERT-OPS SUIT IS TIGHT AS ALL FUCK. MEENAH: well if its any consolation that may be rough for you but its a pretty great time to be your rear admire-all 38) KARKAT: MUCH OBLIGED.

The ship no one expected!

KARKAT: NOT LIKE DAVE. MEENAH: how you feelin about that

I know Karkat hasn't had a lot of screen time in HS2, and I know they've justified why this is coming up now, but as far as Karkat knows Candy Dave A. Married Jade, and then B. Died fifteen years ago. Has this really not come up in fifteen years?

SOLLUX: there's like a bazillion m0oks swarming ar0und my crib and none 0f the grubereats dudes are accepting orders right n0w. SOLLUX: probably 0n account 0f your inc0nvenient ass war. SOLLUX: could y0u pick me something up? SOLLUX: i'm assuming you're 0n your way.

Is this...the first on-screen interaction between Karkat and Sollux since Cascade in 2011? It was worth the wait.

KARKAT: MAYBE YOU'D GIVE MORE OF A FUCK ABOUT THE REPRODUCTIVE FUTURE OF OUR SPECIES IF ARADIA WAS EVER ACTUALLY THERE LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU TO GET SOME. MEENAH: ohhh snapper KARKAT: ANYWAY YEAH I CAN PROBABLY SWING THAT.

This is maybe the most Karkat interaction ever. He's furious for extremely good reasons, he's constantly insulting his friends, of course he'll swing his A-team war truck by McDonalds on the way to the war zone to get Sollux something. Doesn't even occur to him not to.

KARKAT: AND WE NEVER LET IT GO. LOB 4: Well said, sir! KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK. KARKAT: HOW LONG HAVE YOU ALL BEEN LISTENING? TER 2: Pretty much since the beginning, sir!

It's cool and thematic that these guys talk in Dave's colors but I'm unbelievably sad they don't have names.

KARKAT: COMMANDERS HARLEY, MARYAM, AND LALONDE ARE INBOUND, AND NOT LONG AFTER THEY GET HERE THINGS ARE GOING TO GET BATSHIT STUPID!

Last time we saw Vrissy, she was seeing Yiffy for the first time. I was expecting an update following up on that before the big everything coming together, but maybe they won't get a chance to talk yet

Because this sure feels like the last page before an [S]

Edit: But it isn't, the news post said another update this month.

#Homestuck 2

[starboybutler]

Lights Up (Ch. 1)

summary: john egan, sophomore, sees a cute boy in class and gets serious about his education. (not)

word count: 3148

warnings: objectification, drugs, sh, non-con (all briefly mentioned), blowjobs, john egan is kind of an asshole

notes: first chapter of my college au fic! this went through like. five rewrites before i was happy with it and even now i still kinda hate it. but!! i hope you guys enjoy!

here's some art for this chapter!

john egan was not made for college in the slightest.

he enjoyed the experience– the parties, the friends he made, the experimenting with almost every drug in the book– but the academics? not so much.

he wasn't even sure how he got in, honestly. he did all the paperwork when he was high one night, and he gotten a letter saying he was accepted. his momma was so happy for him.

he had skipped class a lot, opting to go out and meet up with a dude he matched with on tinder instead and fucking his brains out in a shady alleyway and ghosting him the next day. when he did attend class, he would sleep through it and miss almost everything his professor said.

he was bad with his assignments too. he never turned them in on time, always promising his professors via email that he'd get it turned in by the end of the week. and when he didn't, he'd just leave it be.

that's the thing about college though– unlike high school, there was no one to breathe down your neck to tell you to do your schoolwork. they expected you to fend for yourself because you were an adult now.

john honestly never had a reason to go to class. until last week.

here he was, in god knows what class listening to his professor drone on about square roots…something like that. did he even sign up for a math class?

whatever. all he was focussed on was the pretty blonde boy that had found a seat right in front of him. he had sleepy blue eyes and pouty pink lips that put every woman he’s ever seen to shame. his hair fell in ribbons over his shoulders, shiny and soft looking. he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

he showed up last week without a word, hair in a messy little ponytail and dressed up in a frayed jean jacket and leather pants. john was so happy he decided to show up to class that day. the minute that blonde beauty walked in, he perked right up, immediately gaining an interest in this particular class.

that entire day, he watched as he wrote line upon line upon line of notes, muscles in his hand moving dutifully.

god.

john had started waking up and walking to class everyday, even opting to get here early just to watch the new boy set up his little work station. he had plenty of pens and pencils and scratch paper to take notes on, but this week he seemed to have finally invested in a laptop for his notes instead– which was a shame, because he had pretty handwriting.

despite a week passing, he had only just text curt about the new boy today, telling him every little detail he’s remembered.

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘hello???? you’re just gonna say all this and not send a picture???’

curtie🖕🏻💚

‘you’re evil’

bucky huffed out a little laugh.

‘i don't know if you've been told this, but taking pictures of people you don't know is weird.’

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘ITS FOR SCIENCE’

‘NO curt’

curtie 🖕🏻💚

‘FINE. i’ll just come over there’

“oh god,” john sighed, letting his head fall forward onto the table in front of him, slightly embarrassed. he loved curt to death, but he acted like he was in heat sometimes- like he just couldn't help himself around a good looking guy.

he peeked at the boy again. today, the boy was dressed a little less flashy than the previous days– only wearing a simple white shirt and gray sweatpants.

he was hyperfocused on his laptop as he soaked up the professors words like a sponge, typing his words into a well organized word document with quick, nimble fingers. his glasses slid lower on his nose, making him take a hand away from his keyboard for a split second and push them back up to the bridge.

john was hypnotized by every movement of his. he seemed so calm, collected– calculated. he seemed like everything bucky wasn't. he was the type of boy that john had always fantasized about taking home and corrupting beyond repair.

fucked up, yeah, but the thought of taking this pretty, smart blonde beauty to bed and making him scream and yell and forget everything nerdy he was typing until he could think of nothing but john’s name– bringing him to filthy, low down clubs and having him take all kinds of things and then fucking him in his car while he giggled, just happy to be there…

god, what an image he created for himself.

“issat him?”

“christ–” john sputtered, startled as curt’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear, arm suddenly slung around his shoulder. “didn't think you were actually comin’.”

“you know me, bucky.” the boy smiled, eyes fixed hard on the blonde, scanning every single little detail. “i hear about a hot guy, i just can't help myself. it's a curse.”

“i gotta get you spayed or something,” he joked, tugging the shorter boy’s hoodie so that he was sat in the chair next to him. “siddown.”

they spent a good while just staring, before curt broke the silence with a filthy whisper in bucky’s ear.

“think he'd be down for a threeway?”

“curtis.”

“what? man, god knows what you're thinkin’ i’m just brave enough to say what i’m thinking out loud.”

“yeah, in a class full of people,” he hissed, flicking curt on the side of the head. “keep your voice down.”

“what's your deal?” curt huffed, rubbing at the spot john had struck him bitterly. “you’d be flirting with a guy this hot by now. it's like you're scared or something.”

“i’m not scared– you're just bein’ too goddamn loud.” john said, elbowing him in the side sharply. “besides, he seems like the shy type- so i’ll have to get him to warm up to me before i can even suggest anything, y’know?”

“ughhh,” curt groaned, falling back dramatically and clutching his chest as if he were dying. “i dunno if i can wait johnny-boy. i wanna devour him like thanksgiving dinner and lick the plate clean.”

“i know you do.” john mumbled, rubbing at his temples. “just try and be patient, yeah? don't you got other boy toys you can sleep with in the meantime?”

“none as good lookin’ as him.”

“down boy.” john teased. “i got this. just give me a week and we'll have him in our dorm.”

curt huffed and stood from where he was seated, shoving his hands into his loose pockets. “alright, but i’ll be damned if i wait a day longer.”

and there he went, striding out of the classroom like he owned the damn place, pants falling low on his hips because he'd lost his goddamn belt somewhere the week before. that boy was more of a mess than he was.

class came to a close, and john sighed and picked up his bag nonchalantly. he had been brainstorming a way to even approach the guy, seeing as he looked like the quieter type. he had a nagging feeling that if he tried to just go up to him and strike up a conversation he'd freak him out a little bit.

he must've spaced out. when he came to, the room was empty, save for the professor organizing his haphazard work space.

“i know you aren't gonna ask me any questions about the lecture, egan,” the frumpy old man said, glaring up at him. “you know where the door is.”

“gee, thanks.” john mumbled under his breath.

he turned to leave, bag slung lazily over his shoulder, only for something glimmering under the fluorescent lights of the room to catch his eye.

he turned to look at the object. it was a pair of glasses.

he practically jumped over the table to get to where the blonde was sat previously, taking hold of the thin-framed specs in his large hand.

perfect.

he dashed out of the classroom, hoping he could still run into him somewhere outside since class hadn't ended that long ago. he made his way into the hall, which was fairly vacant, and scanned for him almost frantically.

there.

he was standing near the exit door, fumbling through his satchel for something– and john hard a fairly good idea of what he was looking for. he took a deep breath, straightened his back and walked towards him, shoving the bifocals in his pocket.

“hey,” he started, obviously scaring the blonde a bit as his eyes shot up from his bag, meeting john’s. “lose something?”

“oh, uh,”

he looked caught off guard, but his face remained surprisingly stoic. the only tell that he was nervous was his stiff posture and twitching fingers.

“yeah, lost my glasses. think i left ‘em somewhere.”

god, his voice was deep– smooth and soft with a hint of a southern twang.

his plump bottom lip twitched slightly as he took his hand out of his cluttered handbag, letting them rest at his sides. he fidgeted with nimble fingers, picking at a loose string that stuck out from his frayed jeans.

he was so much cuter up close. john could really get a good look at all of his features– his sleepy eyes, his soft hair, his straight nose, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, and the musky, sandalwood-vanilla scent that wafted off of him. john wanted to devour him.

he pulled the aforementioned glasses from the pocket of his basketball shorts, presenting them to the blonde. “y’mean these?”

the blonde perked up.

“oh, yeah,” he said, quickly taking them and sliding them back onto his face, missing the way john jumped a little as their skin made contact for a split second. “thanks. must’ve dropped ‘em.”

“nah, left them in class, actually,” john informed, nodding back to the door of the now barren math room. “saw ‘em sitting on the table, so i picked ‘em up.”

“uh, thanks,” he said, hands moving to clutch at the strap of his satchel. “how’d you know they were mine?”

john chuckled and gave his most charming smile, cocking his head to the side slightly, just to add to the charm a bit. “couldn't forget a cutie like you sittin’ in front of me.”

the boy turned his head away at the words, but john didn't miss the way his cheeks flushed a soft, sweet shade of pink. he couldn't help but smirk.

his neck tensed, letting john see all of the muscles in a way that made him want to sink his teeth into him right then and there. he didn't miss how his shirt was cropped slightly either, a little bit of skin showing as he reached to scratch at the back of his reddening neck.

gotcha.

“oh. uh, well…thank you.” he mumbled, a nimble finger running up and down the faded strap of his satchel. “nice of you to return ‘em.”

“of course. who wouldn't? i’m sure everyone would want an excuse to talk to you,” john replied, smiling wider. “what’s your name?”

“oh– it’s gale.” he said, gathering himself and making eye contact with john once more. “gale cleven.”

“nice to meet you, gale,” he crooned, holding out a large hand. “i’m john egan. friends call me bucky.”

“nice to meet you,” he said softly, a slight smile crossing his face as he took john’s hand, shaking it firmly. “bucky.”

“good boy,” he said seamlessly, watching as gale’s face went a pale pink once more. “how about you grab a drink with me? i’ll consider us even for the glasses.”

“ah, i’d love to, but,”

he faltered, and john’s heart sank for a moment. he must've overstepped.

“i don't drink. even if i did, i’m 19, so i can’t legally get a drink at bars.”

john shrugged, playing off his miscalculation as he released gale’s hand. “a’ight. how about a bite to eat then?”

gale went quiet, lip twitching once more as he mulled over john’s offer. bucky worried his bottom lip with his teeth in anticipation.

“not today,” gale exhaled. “gotta study, y’know. but i’m free tomorrow?”

“okay. i’m counting on you to keep your word on this.” he purred, flashing him a sly wink as he walked past him, out the door. “see ya tomorrow, gale.”

—---------------------

“so, did you ask him?”

“curt, didn't i say a week?” john huffed, shucking his shirt off and tossing it aside. “you're real impatient, you know that?”

“he's hot.” curt said urgently. “god, if i got a chance to talk to him i’d–”

“i know, which is why i didn't let you talk to him.” john laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed. “you’d scare him off and he'd probably report us or something. it’s happened before.”

“no one's reported us.”

“yet.”

“whatever.” curt sighed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “did you at least get a name? what color are his eyes? what’s he smell like?”

“gale. gale cleven.” john recalled fondly. “he’s got big baby blues, and he smells real good. like those ridiculously overpriced colognes you love so much. god– his voice is so deep too, curtie.”

“...gale sounds like a chick’s name.”

“curt.”

“what, it does!”

“and you think you’d be able to get him to agree to a threeway? with a mouth like that?” john huffed. “you're such a shit talker.”

“it’s not on purpose, i promise.” he said with a bratty roll of his eyes. “i just think honesty is the best policy. ain’t that a core value or sumn?”

“it is– but not if you’re thinking of telling a cute blonde guy you wanna fuck that his name sounds like a chick’s name.”

“are you gonna tell me it doesn’t? honestly?”

“you just–” john pauses, lips pressed into a flat line. “you shouldn't say it.”

“so you agree!” he cackles, falling back with the force of his raucous laughter. “oh johnny, you're such a hypocrite.”

bucky all but pounced on curt, relishing the little yip that came from him as he was pinned against the shitty little dorm mattress. john’s hand was gripping the front of his hoodie, lifting him up slightly so that their faces were inches apart, breath mingling with one another.

“you've got such a smartass mouth, you know that?” he hissed, staring curt right in his crystal-blue eyes, which were wide with an obvious mix of arousal and fear.

this is what curt got a kick out of- riling bucky up and making him manhandle him. this wouldn't be the first time they had gotten carried away in their little friendly bickering matches, only for john to end up on top of or inside of curt. it was a little arrangement they had. they’d known one another since elementary school, and they'd only grown closer as they grew up.

curt was there for bucky throughout his worst– the drugs, the relapses- he’d seen john at his absolute worst, and he stayed right by his side.

he'd also seen curt at hit lowest, dirty and covered in blood and other fluids that were from men that curt didn't want to name because he was sure ‘they didn't mean it’.

so much they've been through together. so many nights they've spent curled up together- crying, screaming, or just silent.

“yeah?” the boy exhaled, erection poking at the back of bucky’s thigh insistently. “why don't you shut me up then?”

he didn't need anymore permission. bucky pulled his half-hard cock free from his loose basketball shorts, shoving it roughly into curt’s mouth, laughing cruelly as the boy let out a little whiny sigh.

“didn't even gag. how many cocks you suck this week, huh? how many men you let violate your pretty mouth?”

another whine, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he began to lick and suckle at his cock weakly, hands grasping at john’s thighs.

the words were harsh, but he knew it’s what curt liked. he loved being talked about like he was an object- a little plaything for john’s personal gratification.

he rolled his hips forward, smirking as curt gagged slightly at the nudge of john’s cockhead against the back of his throat. spit was running down the corners of his mouth, creating a pretty, messy little picture below him.

“fucking hell, love your mouth.” he sighed, settling into a slow rhythm, savoring the feeling of curt moaning and whimpering around him like a pitiful little puppy. “love when i get to take you like this. you think gale would fill you up like this?”

a downright filthy groan left curt’s mouth at that, nails biting into the plush skin of john’s thighs. bucky laughed throatily. tugging at curt’s damp curls until just his tip was in the warm chasm of his mouth.

“hah….thought he had a chick’s name? bet you don't really care. you’d still moan for his cock like the whore that you are, huh?”

curt’s tongue licked at the weeping head of bucky’s dick, shuddering at the taste of precum drizzling over his pink little tongue. his chest was heaving with each breath he took, eyes almost rolling into the back of his head as john forced him to swallow his cock once more.

“want me to cum down your throat, curtie? gonna imagine that it’s gale?”

a garbled word that sounded like ‘fuck’ escaped the shorter boy’s throat, his nails scratching down his thighs and leaving bloody little marks that would be hard to explain– but he didn't care. his thrusts got sloppier, more frantic as that familiar warmth built at the base of his spine.

“shit–”

he pulled free from curt’s throat with a filthy wet sound, jerking his wet cock as he spilled all over curt’s scrunched up face. his cheeks were pink and wet with a mix of john’s precum and his own spit, which made such a beautiful little picture as his spend was added to it.

they both sat there panting for a bit, before curt shoved him in his chest.

“i said down my throat, asshole.”

john just shrugged, smirking crookedly. “i hear cum is great for your skin. just trying to keep you looking young.”

curt shoved him again, enough to make him stumble off of his chest and onto the floor, which made them both laugh.

“god, now i gotta shower again,” curt huffed, wiping at his face with his hand. “god, you're such a dick.”

“you're welcome,” bucky called out as curt shuffled off to the bathroom, shooting him the finger as he closed the door behind him. he was left laying there, cock still wet and messy with curt’s saliva as his eyes drifted shut. images of gale, spread out below him, flushed and fucked out flashed prettily like a homemade porno behind his eyelids.

tomorrow, he was gonna win that blonde boy over no matter what.

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove

#mota #gale #john #curt #buck x bucky #college au #masters of the air #clegan #eganven #curtbucky #masters of the air fanfic #gale x john #curt x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #curt biddick #austin butler #callum turner #barry keoghan

[bumblingbabooshka]

Processing some things

Also the fact that he's crouching with his hands on his knees is so cute to me for some reason?? He does this in another episode too - the one where Chakotay finds a symbol on an unknown planet...it's just so adorable to me. He could just lean down but no. Also of course his fingers are spread again - GOTTA utilize the whole hand whenever you do ANYTHING (if you're Tuvok)

#anyway. he's so pretty I'm gonna bite my arm off spongebob style. #Tuvok in the Maquis: I'm gonna spy on these criminals but also?? I'm gonna try out a new eyeshadow look. #Tuvok calling Neelix 'sir'....one and only time v_v treasure it Neelix #Do these replicators make clothing? (yes.) Will they make me a uniform like yours~?? (No. They most CERTAINLY will NOT. <3) #<- also Neelix is naked and Tuvok brought him a towel in a way that was very theatric but also very 'lets dry you off' #like...not just handing it to him #I love Neelix's scrappier early seasons vibe <3<3 #I also like whenever he was like 'GOD these Starfleet people are a bunch of BABIES...eat the damn leola root. It's good for you~!' #I FROGOT KES WAS HELD CAPTIVE BY THE KAZON???? KES ARE YOU OK??? #Kes: I'm told I'm too curious...it's my worst quality~ <- and then the writers never let her out of sickbay #In my ideal world Kes & Neelix are like brother and sister (harkens back to Neelix's lost family and gives a slightly more sympathetic #reason for his overprotectiveness which would now not be romantic jealousy but still something he had to let go of for them to truly be #friends) and also Kes tried every work station aboard Voyager...every episode she's somewhere new but her MAIN job is still in sickbay #Kes is in a pseudo cult and she said nu uh I believe in a different pseudo cult and I love that for her #Kes: I don't want to be dependent on the caretaker!! (reasonable) Our people have magical mind's abilities that allow us- (ok Kes) #just bc she was right doesn't mean it's not a WILD thing to think HEhehehe #SNRKEHEHEHE HARRY STOP TOM CAN'T TAKE THIS #Tom: How can I let down the only friend I've got~? / Harry: Friend? What makes you think I'm your friend~? / Tom: -sobbing into his pillow- #Neelix saying 'Well...the fool needs company!' ok <3 I'm twirling my hair a little....got a bit of rizz... #literally an hour ago he was willing to leave them all for dead and now look at him #OUG hTom Paris the racism....ough the racism...not even the fantasy alien kind.......oaaau ugh oh it hurts the real world racism..... #TOM NO STOP TALKING!!! TO M NO THE RACISM - TOM PARIS !! TOOOOM!!!!! <- walter white screaming meme #(remembers its Harry's FIRST mission) a different kind of pain.... #Janeway and Tuvok holding hands: We're so fucking doomed. This is a terrible position and we have to do what's morally right but #by doing this we're going to be trapped here - maybe for the rest of our lives and not just us but the entire crew. But we have to #do this horrible thing BECAUSE we're good people. #<- not enough attention is paid (including by me bc I forgor) to the fact that Tuvok was with Janeway when she made that decision #and backed her up...just a sad little moment to themselves #OOF Tom...three for three on the racism....TOM #Neelix's sales pitch...yeeAAAH~!!

[firebirdsdaughter]

I know…

… That I’ve already mentioned how amazing their relationship development is going from the pilot to the series finale, but…

Also can we talk about them going from the ‘we’re not friends’/‘bc you have so many of those’ conversation to ‘get them to the chopper, now.’

W/ special mention to the ‘Nate, I can take them.’ preceding it, as well.

#Leverage #I went on about it in the tags before #but s1 is def building that relationship #it's somewhat rocky and messy #but by the Davids Jobs #well like I said those two eps go to show just how close they've managed to become #and then s2 is all about locking it in #like I know it was bc of Gina Belleman's pregnancy #but I feel like Tara's introduction goes SO FAR to show off just how completely Eliot and Nate have settled into their thing #like you def see the seeds on that first job from Eliot's professionalism to just how he talks to Nate later #but the development from there to him being the one Nate calls on to get the others out #bc he knows Eliot will do it for them and for him #and just #Eliot being ready to fight too many people w/ too big guns to protect his family #and ONLY not immediately trying bc Nate doesn't give the clear #Sterling would have had to be let go from work for medical reasons very early on if not for Eliot's loyalty to Nate #their relationship may not have quite as many ups and downs as the others #or at least not in the same way #you see the roots early on and it's proper settled by s2 and just continues getting deeper #they're pretty steady which fits both of them and fits w/ what I was saying about Eliot in that other post #Eliot will follow Nate to hell and try to protect him from it #s1 develops the relationship and the finale sees it solidify even if they scatter #s2 shows us just how deep and absolute it is #in s3 it comes under fire but comes back stronger than ever #s4 gives you another angle at it and shows just how deep it's come to run #and s5 is about passing the torch #but like I said the loyalty doesn't go away and the thing they had can't be replicated #his charge may be Parker and Hardison but Eliot's still Nate's left arm if he needs him #and it's beautiful #Literal Crime Family

[violent138]

During Tim's early days, the principal called Bruce once to report that Tim had a lot of bruises.

Bruce, pretty sure he knows where this is going: "Well there's a reasonable explanation for this--"

Tim, kind of sheepish: "It's from the Bo staff."

Bruce, turning fully on the chair to look at him.

Tim, fidgeting a little: "I've been practicing kind of a lot with it recently."

Bruce, suddenly incredibly proud: "Yes," turns back to the suspicious principal. "He insists on getting into these really niche extra curriculars. For college."

Principal, looking between them: "Bo staff? What is that, exactly?"

Tim: "I can show you if you like? Do you mind?"

The principal shrugs and Tim steps out, returning with a broom.

He does a one handed figure eight spin and wipes the Principal's mug right off the desk, causing it to shatter on the floor.

Tim: "Oh shit."

Bruce, speaking over the principal, standing up: "Excellent, just loosen your grip a little more."

Tim, rolling his eyes: "It's a pretty basic move B, and you know it--"

Bruce, excited that Tim's taken an interest: "Just the beginning, tonight we'll practice some real moves, build your repertoire in defense and offense--"

Tim, grinning: "I'd like that, I've also been working on--"

Principal, clearing her throat: "I think I've seen all I need to see."

#Kind of a long one #Inspired by my unfun time with the calli sticks #Tim Drake #Batman #Bruce Wayne #Dc comics #Text post #3 am batposting #batfamily

[lovelyghst]

simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.

simon riley with a virgin!gf and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.

simon riley with a virgin!gf thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.

"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."

simon riley with a virgin!gf adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.

simon riley with a virgin!gf allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.

simon riley with a virgin!gf will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.

simon riley with a virgin!gf never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.

simon riley with a virgin!gf gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.

the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.

his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.

you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.

you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.

heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?

he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.

"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.

and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3

#cod mw #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader

[gi4hao]

☆ wonwoo x gn!reader — warnings: mentions of nausea

just wonwoo being completely whipped for his s/o <3

if there’s one thing both wonwoo and you are grateful for, it’s your ability to sleep with noise around.

the clock on your right is displaying 1am, and the last time wonwoo got up from his gaming chair was two hours ago, to bring you a glass of water and kiss you goodnight.

it hadn’t been hard to fall asleep, relaxed by the steady clicks of his fingers on the keyboard and the occasional whirring of the hard drive. but a queasiness seemed to have settled in your stomach, making it much harder to stay asleep.

without even looking at him, you know wonwoo has his headphones on. it’s no use trying to call him, and standing up seems a little too risky right now. with a heavy sigh, you turn to your side to at least catch a glimpse of his focused face and occasional nose scrunches.

“is everything ok?” he asks just a few seconds later, snapping a quick glance at you before looking back at his screen.

“i- how did you know i’m awake?” you ask, and immediately notice how talking makes your nausea feel worse.

with a frown, you put a hand on your stomach, tracing circles on your skin in hope it might make a difference.

“i know everything” wonwoo smiles, still focused on his game. “are you okay?”

“i’m not feeling so good” you reply, trying your best to be loud enough for him to hear you.

and he apparently does, since he lets his headphones rest on his shoulders as he slightly spins his chair to face you. with a worried look, wonwoo silently offers you to come sit on his lap like you often do, sometimes for no particular reason.

you’re quick to reply with a slight shake of your head, your face twisted in an uneasy expression. that’s how he knows you really aren’t feeling well, because you usually never decline this kind of offer.

“need some water? a pill? …me?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed after turning his computer off.

in lieu of an actual answer, you simply grab his t-shirt to pull him to bed, making him chuckle in surprise. and the sounds you hear next are more than familiar: him taking his glasses off, folding the arms and gently putting them on the nightstand.

your face is now inches apart from his chest, and you let out a content sigh as his reassuring smell envelops you in a tight hug.

“can i?” he whispers, his fingers slowly lifting the cloth of your t-shirt (well, his t-shirt actually).

you nod, and he lets his hand find its way to your stomach, careful as if you were made of glass. his palm covers much more surface than yours, especially as he starts to rub your skin in slow circles.

“this feels nice” you hum, lulled by the steady lifts of his chest with every breath he takes. “i feel sleepy again.”

“good. try to get some rest baby, i’m not going anywhere” he whispers again, kissing the crown of your head.

wonwoo had not always been one to openly express physical affection, which was okay with you. but the more nights you spent in his company, the more he offered to cuddle you to sleep. and it was often in the early hours of the morning, when you woke up with your limbs intertwined, that you realized just how much you meant to him.

“but what about your game?” you ask, looking up at him in an attempt to make out his features. “you were close to winning, weren’t you?”

hearing those words, wonwoo lifts his free hand to the side of your face, tracing a gentle line along your cheek. it that moment, it feels as if the room is filled with the warmth of his affection.

“i’m pretty sure i already won” he replies, kissing the tip of your nose, an evident smile in his voice.

requests are open!

#writing this healed me on a spiritual level #my soul is cleansed #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo comfort #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto x y/n #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

[slutforln4]

BLOODY KISSES

🖇️ lando norris x reader

🖇️ in which your boyfriend ends up in a bloody situation

🖇️ warnings: a lot of blood mentions, suggestive + descriptive so minors dni!! pretty short, 1.6k

🖇️ author’s note: lando with the injured nose is hot okay, i had to do something about my feelings towards it

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“I don’t like how that guy’s looking at you.”

Lando felt your hair brush against his cheek as you turned your head to the side, eyes scanning the room until you found the piercing set of eyes boring into you from way over at the bar. “Him?” You cocked your head to the guy’s direction.

His green eyes looked at the guy again, brows creasing immediately upon sight. “Yeah. Does he have a fucking staring problem or something? No reason for him to eye you like that.”

You stifle a laugh, arms wrapping tighter around Lando. “I’m sure he’s just enjoying the view.”

“The view of what?” He turns back to you, his grip on your waist tightening and eyes turning dark. “My girlfriend?”

You bite back a smile and your fingers softly brush against his forehead as you push his curls back. “I love when you get possessive like that.”

Lando’s lips pulled into a smirk before leaning in to kiss you, hands pulling you in by your waist. He wasn’t sure what made that guy even think of looking at you, especially when Lando’s hands have been travelling the curves of your body all night. You’ve been practically glued to him, unable to get a second alone, even if you wanted to.

Lando had to admit that he can’t blame the guy for undressing you with his eyes— that tight little black dress you wore made it so easy to imagine what’s underneath. And the length didn’t help at all. Lando had to keep pulling it down everytime you ever so slightly bent.

He completely understands why the guy was staring, but it still made his blood fucking boil.

The lingering taste of alcohol mixed in you two’s mouths, the make-out getting more heated than you were first intending. Lando peeked an eye open and, sure enough, the guy was still staring, an angry glare tracing your figure from above the rim of his glass.

Lando had started to enjoy this whole bit. Seeing another guy want you, but knowing that he could never have you. Your boyfriend never thought of himself as being possessive, yet the jealousy flowing through his veins had begun to feel almost addictive.

“Lan,” you mumbled against his lips, trying to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. You managed to mumble “phone, ringing,” between the aggressive kisses.

Lando groaned into your mouth before pulling away and taking his phone from your hands. He excused himself for a moment, seemingly upset to peel his hands away from your body. Lando manoeuvred his way out the club and leaned back against the cold bricks as he answered the call. “Yeah, Osc?”

“Hey, mate.” Lando’s teammate began. “Listen, I was wondering if you remember what time you were going to go to the airport on Tuesday?”

“Oh, uhm,” Lando scratched the back of his head. “I dunno, pretty early in the morning, I think. Why?”

“I was wondering if I could come along, since Lily said she’s not up for travelling to the U.S. and I don’t have a travel buddy now.” Oscar explained. “Would that be alright?”

“Yeah, ‘course, mate.” Lando smiled at Oscar’s request. “I was gonna invite you both anyway, since Y/N’s coming. I guess I should tell her that Lily won’t be there this time.”

Oscar chuckled, awkwardly. “Yeah, but maybe next time. She’s been wanting to go to Italy, so I’m sure Y/N will have her plane buddy back by then.”

“Hopefully. I mean, you know how she is about Lily.” Lando grins, remembering how close you and Oscar’s girlfriend had gotten since he joined the team. “Well, I’ll see you Tuesday, then. I’ll text you the exact hour tomorrow.”

“Alright, cheers. See you then.”

“Yup, bye.”

Lando headed back inside, ready to get back to what Oscar cut him off from. Except, he couldn’t find you. But you know who he could find?

That same fucking guy that’s been eye-fucking you the whole night.

He was in the same spot as you had been, looking like he was looming over somebody. When Lando got a glimpse of your hair flipping to the side, trying to find a way to escape this guy, he knew better than to just stand there across the club.

His hand aggressively pulled the guy back by his shoulder. The blonde man in front of him looked confused and simply shrugged it away, laughing in Lando’s face as he turned back to you. You noticed the change of expression in Lan’s face as soon as he pulled the guy back again, this time even more angry than before.

“The fuck is your problem?”

Lando wrapped an arm around you, territorial and so fucking hot. “My problem is that you can’t keep your fucking eyes from my girlfriend.”

“Not my fault you let her dress like a slut and expect me not to stare.”

Time went on slowly from that moment. Lando’s knuckles made contact with the guy’s jaw, then nose, then jaw again. You’ve never seen him so aggressive nor seen him fight anyone, and it was odd to feel turned on by it.

You couldn’t do anything but try and pull Lando away from the guy, but to no avail. You only managed to get him away when the guy punched him back. Lando leaned his head back, hand pushing against his nose as he tried to catch the gushing blood.

“Fuck you,” you angrily spat at the guy before dragging Lando to the bathrooms.

As soon as the door closed and locked, you brought your full attention to Lando and ignored the pounding in your chest. “Fuck, he punched you pretty good, huh?”

“Not as good as I beat him,” he smiled, blood still dripping down his nose to his lips. He spat it out into the sink. “Sorry you have to see me like this, baby. I couldn’t not do anything.”

You bit back a smile as you dabbed the paper towel against his nose, as gentle as a feather, trying your best not to hurt him. “I thought it was kind of hot how you defended me like that.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, hands finding their way back to your waist. “Didn’t know you liked to see me violent.”

“I didn’t either,” you whisper back at him, lips brushing against his. “I guess we learn new things everyday.”

“I guess we do,” he mumbled before connecting his bloodied lips with yours.

Lando felt his nose hurt, but he was far too intoxicated to care. All he cared about was you and for that god-damned dress to be off as soon as possible.

Your fingers gently undid the buttons of his blood-stained shirt, lips still gently pressed against his. The warmth of his blood, oddly enough, didn’t scare you away like Lando thought it would. You seemed to be into it and didn’t mind.

The zipper of your dress pulled down under the weight of Lando’s fingertips, hands trailing down your shoulders as he tugged it off your body.

“Mmh, fuck,” Lando mumbled against your lips when your nose accidentally brushed against his. You didn’t get a chance to pull away as Lando kissed you again, seemingly unbothered by the tinge of pain in his nose.

Your dress pooled at your waist and Lando’s hands pulled you in by the hips. His dick could be felt through the fabric of his dress pants and you didn’t waste any time undoing the button, tugging them down and wrapping your hand around him.

“Someone's needy,” Lando smiles against your lips, blood on his teeth. “How badly do you need it?”

“So bad, Lan.” You whimper when his tongue makes contact with your neck and he gently sucks it. His nose brushed against your skin and you could tell it hurt him, but a hungry man doesn’t know pain as well as he knows the taste of you.

Lando could go through ten times the amount of pain as he is right now if only that meant he’d hear those delicate sounds slipping past your lips as his lips left purple bruises on your skin.

And, fuck, did he make a mess on your neck. He pulled away, eyes trailing down your skin as he watched the blood seep into it.

You saw it in the mirror, too, and it was so fucking hot. It’s like he found a new and better way of marking you.

“Baby,” you mumble as he slowly trails kisses down your chest. He hums as if to ask what’s wrong and you twirl a curl of his between your fingers. “I still need to fix you up. You’ll catch an infection.”

“I’ll be fine,” his muffled voice says while leaving small hickeys on your breasts.

You sometimes hated how stubborn he was, but after all these years, you learnt how to work around it.

Lando freezes mid-kiss when you pull away, stepping back a couple footsteps before pulling your dress back up. “Zip it for me?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, visibly annoyed yet intrigued by your sudden change in emotion. You were just desperate for his dick and now you’re pulling away.

“Getting dressed?” You raise a brow and look his way. “What does it look like?”

“To me,” he steps towards you, hands on your hips before he swiftly turns you around so you’re facing away from him, “it looks like you’re being a brat.”

You faux gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Me? I would never.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, baby,” he pulls the zipper up your back. “Because you know what brats get, right? Remember last time you did this?”

“Yeah,” you turn back around to face him, hands shaking with need to touch him but mind desperately fighting against it. “But last time you weren’t actively bleeding out and I was trying to rile you up in front of your friends.”

“Baby, I swear I’ll be fine.”

Lando chuckled when he saw your eyes roll. “I’ll trust that when you have a bandage on your nose and I have seven inches in me.”

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #max verstappen #formula one x reader #slutty lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanart #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one fanart #formula one smut #formula one imagine #formula one fanfics #formula one fanfic #f1 smau #f1 smut

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

#luke castellan enemies to lovers #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo x reader #pjo tv show

[lowkeyremi]

Bakugo with the kids >:3 (bakugo x fem!reader)

This post was possible bc of @shima707 they commented on my bkg dad post for more so i decided to write more :D

"Daddy, Shoko's cryin' again." Mayako says shaking her father. Katsuki usually sleeps in on Sundays with you by his side but for some reason he's waking up upon the fact that the newest addition to the family is crying.

"Where's mommy at? Tell her to get Shoko." He mumbles under the covers. Mayako gets off the bed to open the blackout curtains which causes Katsuki to groan loudly.

"I looked for mommy but she's not here!!" Katsuki perks up at those words, where could you be early on a Sunday morning?

"She's not here? That's weird, she woulda told me if she was goin' somewhere." Mayako glares at her father, it's actually pretty ironic. Katsuki feels like he's staring at himself.

Your blond husband rises from bed to brush his teeth, this was not how he imagined his day would start.

"Can you get one of Shoko's clean bottles off the rack, Maya?" he asks between brushes.

"Mommy already made a bottle for her its in the fridge left with a note to warm it up." Katsuki finds it strange that you left without saying anything. The hero jogs his memory trying to remember if you said anything about going out on Sunday.

Once he's freshened up, he makes his way to the nursery with Mayako by his side like a little assistant or something.

"Your brothers 'wake yet?" He asks opening the nursery door, he is met by loud cries from his little one.

"I think Kaien is awake, not sure about Kitaro." Katsuki nods, he picks up his daughter with his washed hands. He wanted all of his kids to have K names like him but you argued it'd be too confusing. You agreed on both your sons having K names but you named Shoko and Mayako.

"Alright Shoko, that's enough crying." She's only about four months old which means aside from eating, pooping and peeing, crying is all she can really do. He cradles her and puts the bottle in her mouth. The cries stop immediately and she sucks on the bottle harshly.

"Daddy, please don't get mommy pregnant anymore. I'm tired of hearing crying everyday." She admits in a tired tone as if she's the one who cares for all the children. She does contribute to her siblings care though.

"Hah? I hafta hear crying every day, more than you did and how do you even know I'm the reason mommy has babies?" He's shocked to say the least, Mayako is only nine.

"Well for one mommy was always like 'I swear on my life all that man wants to do is get me pregnant' or 'I'm not having anymore of his kids after this one' so I asked Aunty Mina what she was talking about and she gave me as she called it 'a watered down version of how babies are made'." Mayako explained to her father. He should've known it was Mina.

He switched Shoko's postion so he could burp her, then he realized he needed her towel or he'd have spit up on his shirt.

"'N what exactly did Mina say?" He completely ignores that fact that you've complained about pregnancy, he's heard it all before. Whatever Mina told his daughter was something ridiculous he already knew it.

"She said that you slid your hotdog into mommy's bun and the mayo created a baby hotdog." Katsuki cringes hard. Out of all the things Mina could have told his daughter it had to be that.

"I hate that idiot so much." He mumbles. Shoko gives a good burp and a few coos. Katsuki adores the fact that Shoko has your eyes and your nose.

"Go tell Kaien to brush, Kitaro too if he's 'wake." Mayako gives a silent nod and stomps out of the nursery. Katsuki predicts that Kaien will come crying in a little bit, he and his sister clash often due to Mayako's firey temper and his softness.

He's determined to change Shoko's diaper and clothes before Kaien comes in crying.

Katsuki gets lucky and is able to start breakfast when Kaien comes crying in the kitchen. "Daddy, Mayako's being mean. I hate her!" He yells folding his arms.

"Woah kid, we don't say hate. Especially not about family." Katsuki says, he's in his 'Kiss the chef' apron in courtesy of you.

"You say hate all the time!" Kaien argues, and well, he's right. Katsuki doesn't want his child outsmarting him, though.

"That's cuz I'ma grown up." It's the best thing he can come up with at the moment. A father of four with his wife away can only do so much. He's got Shoko strapped to his chest while he's cooking.

Katsuki gets no respond from his son, so it's time to do some digging.

"What did your sister do, Kaien?" He was not at all prepared for Kaien's answer, he expected that she was bossing him around or something.

"S-she said that I can't use the spicy toothpaste because I'm a baby!" Spicy toothpaste? Oh, he must mean the mint toothpaste.

"What did you tell her?" He quickly scarmbles the eggs with the cooking chopsticks.

"I told her six isn't a baby and she said it is." Katsuki almost laughed, not at Kaien. It's just that cute little pout he has on his face.

"Maya-"

"Yeah?" She responds before her father can finish calling her name. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was lurking around the corner waiting to interject and say that her brother was wrong.

"Why can't Kaien use the spicy toothpaste?" The eggs are done so he plates them and checks on the rice. Shoko was drooling all over his collarbone even with her baby towel.

"Cuz he's only six, he should use the kid toothpaste." She says in her 'as-a-matter-of-fact' voice.

"Are you Kaien's ma?" Katsuki asks, he doesn't miss a beat while chopping the spring onions.

"No but-"

"Aht, no buts. You're not his ma so you can't go around telling him what to do. Unless of course, you're babysitting 'em." He sets the chopped onions aside and puts the rice and eggs into bowls. He makes sure all the servings are equal or he'll get complaints from his mini critiques.

"Mkay." She's sour right now.

"Where's Kitaro?" Katsuki garnishes the the food and sets it on the table.

"We both tried to wake him up but he kept saying he was tired." Mayako comments and sits in her normal spot.

"Ain't nothing for him to be tired for, he's eight." Mayako shrugs at her father's words and says thanks for the food. She and Kaien dig in.

Katsuki heads up the stairs, Shoko still strapped to him. His eyes scan the hallway and it's covered in toys. The blond makes a mental note for his kids to clean up later.

He walks over toys to reach Kitaro's room, the door's closed which isn't normal. You enforced the 'no closed doors' rule, unless someone's in the bathroom or changing.

He opens it half expecting Kitaro to be doing something bad. Instead the eight year old is snoring like he hasn't slept in years.

"Get up kid, time to eat. Go brush." He shakes Kitaro.

He just groans, pulls his covers over his head, and yawns.

"I'm tired." Katsuki raises a brow.

"Tired from what?" Once again, Kitaro's only eight, he can't be doing anything that energy consuming.

"Video games." He mumbles from under the covers.

"Tch, 's why you don't needta be playin' them. I don't know why that old hag got you a gaming system." Kitaro is sluggish getting out of the bed. Katsuki's watching him like a hawk. He watched him all the way until he was at the table.

He sees you sitting with Kaien in your lap eating some of his food because he's not likely to finish it.

"There's my baby girl!" You coo to Shoko. Katsuki undoes the baby carrier and takes her out of it. Those ruby red eyes scan your body for any indication of your activities this morning.

"Where have you been all mornin'?" Shoko babbles while Katsuki starts eating breakfast.

"I went to the gym, I'm trying to lose baby weight." You explain with a small smile.

"Tch, why's it matter? I'm your man 'n I like you the way you are." He never understood why you were so insecure.

"I'm not doing it for anyone besides myself." Kaien whines when you pick at his eggs.

"You aren't gonna eat them, little boy." You boop his nose and he tries to bite your finger.

"Too slow, Kai." He pouts, and it looks just like when Katsuki pouts.

"Why didn't ya tell me you were leavin'?" He huffs.

"Cuz you'd tell me I look good and convince me to stay." You're met by his silence which tells you you're right.

"Date night?" Katsuki asks with a sly smirk.

"No more babies!" Mayako protests.

"I agree- wait how do you-?!"

"Mina." Your husband and eldest daughter say at the same time.

"Oh I love her." It doesn't take a genius to know Mina probably told her some crazy watered down version of sex.

"Ki, hon, you look tired." He yawns at your words.

"He stayed up all night on that gaming system the old hag gave him." Your eyes widen.

"Katsuki! Your mom is not the 'h word' and I've been meaning to put parental controls on that thing." He rolls his eyes at your pg language when you normally have the mouth of a sailor when the kids aren't around.

"Whatever." The hero scoffs.

"Love you too, Kats!" You wink at him obnoxiously and he groans.

Thanks shima707 for giving me the motivation to write more, and I'm glad you enjoyed the first part! Love you guys and see ya next time <3

#bnha #mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #dad!bakugou #bakugo as a dad #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff

[joelsgreys]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

#tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #raider joel #raider! joel #dark!fic #dark! joel miller #dark joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #tw daddy kink #dark!joel x reader #fic: captive