#say what you want about her books but the woman is hilarious

[fugamalefica]

1987: COLLINS V CARTLAND Romantic Fiction Titans CLASH | Wogan | Classic...

This video is hilarious. I wish I could resurrect Barbara Cartland just to watch her review Colleen Hoover's books.

[no-144444]

older- d.ricciardo

꩜ summary: maybe you're both older than before, but you're happy, and that's what matters

꩜ pairing: husband! dad! daniel ricciardo x fem! wife! mom! reader

꩜ a/n: every time there's an american race i'm going to suggest preparing for a lot of danny riccy bc i miss him (especially when cota comes around)

Daniel’s back aches when he wakes up, and his moustache and hair is greying a little. That’s how he knew he was getting older. He was only 50, but he felt it. Every bit of it. 

And he wondered how you didn’t. Granted, you were a bit younger, only 43, but still. You basically looked the same way you did when you were 19. When he first fell in love with you. Sure, there were a few more creases by your eyes and maybe some greys were popping up, but in his eyes, you were the same. 

“Dad! Freddie told mom to fuck off!” Harry, your second oldest son, came rushing in the door, his school books in hand, an animated expression on his face. Harry had Daniel’s unruly hair, but your quiet demeanor. He was good in school, good in sports, and focused hard on what he wanted. He didn’t want to race like his dad (much to both of your delights), and he set his sights on directing. He was passionate, smart, and ridiculously good at surfing. He could go toe to toe, even with his old man, and would always win. It was impressive. He was also a bit of a tattle-tale when it came to getting his twin brother, Freddie, in trouble. Daniel couldn’t fault him though, he loved him too much. 

Daniel was on dinner duty, wearing his (stupidly hilarious) ‘kiss the chef’ apron as the delicious smells of steak and fries (and tiramisu for dessert) filled the kitchen. Since his time as a stay-at-home-dad commenced, he had become a passionate cook. He loved trying out new recipes, messing with flavours and cuisines, and of course, always making you his test subject. He whipped his head around to his son, a shocked expression on his face. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” his voice was low and dangerous and his eyes met yours the second you walked in the door. You shook your head, a frustrated expression on your face. Freddie looked guilty, but unrelenting, as all teenagers were. He turned to Freddie, handing the spatula to Harry, who took over steak-duty, listening to his twin get berated. Freddie also shared Daniel’s unruly hair, they were identical twins after all, but he kept it cleanly cut (speaking of that, he really should remind Harry to get his cut). He was a bit more tan than Harry, and he was always a bit of a trouble maker. Again though, Daniel could’t fault him, he loved him too much. But he certainly could fault Freddie for telling the woman he loved (and the woman who birthed Freddie) to fuck off. “What did you say to your mother?” he demanded. 

“Dad-” He silenced him with a look, it was going to be an excuse, and he knew it. “I’m sorry,” he turned to you, but you were already busy grabbing the plates and setting the table. You set the last plate down, all eyes on you. You looked up, staring into your son's apologetic eyes. “I was being a dick-”

“Little ears!” Harry reminded, covering his sister, Maeve’s ears. She’d walked in, clinging to her brother’s leg as a greeting. 

“Sorry,” Freddie repeated. “That wasn’t right mom,” he confessed. You sighed and walked over to him, hugging him. He was already taller than you, and only 17. Part of you wanted to let Daniel chew him out for being such a prick, but you understood that exams were coming up right at the same moment his rugby finals were on, and he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders. Yes, he was a dick, but he was your son. And sadly, that meant you loved him, and saw him as that little brunette kid who cried every time you had to leave for work. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” you huffed and he nodded. “I’m your mom, I’m on your side. I’m not trying to be mean, I just need you to think about your future Freds.” 

He nodded again, knowing you were right from the start. “I know,” he agreed. “I am. It just… stresses me.”

You shrugged. “That’s ok. But it’s not okay to take it out on me or your brother.”

“What did you do to your brother?” Daniel asked, and Freddie gulped. Harry held out his forearm, showing off a pretty impressive bruise. Daniel’s eyes went wide. “Fuck’s sake Freddie,” he cursed under his breath, pulling off his apron. Harry huffed again, covering Maeve’s ears. “What are you doing that for?” 

He didn’t have an answer. 

“Apologise to your brother, now,” you demanded. “And we’ll talk more about this later, alright? If you can’t start figuring out what’s up, we're going to have to have some serious conversations,” your tone was strict but caring, and the parenting part of Daniel was in awe. He was in awe of you all the time, but watching you be so good with your kids was just something else. “Maeve!” you called, kneeling down to pick her up as she ran to you. Freddie walked over and apologised to Harry, who accepted it. Maeve looked a lot more like you, and she was just 6. You carried her on your hip as you made your way over to Daniel, a flirtatious smirk on your lips. He smirked right back, his hands finding your ass as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your lips. Both Harry and Freddie cringed, but you just chuckled, used to his antics by now. 

“Missed you today,” he admitted, his voice low. 

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, smirking. Then your eyes softened with your smile. “Missed you too,” you admitted. “Excited for dinner.” 

“Yeah dad, these look good to me,” Harry announced, grabbing his attention. 

Daniel turned back to the grill and nodded. “Good shout Haz,” he smiled, his hands on his son’s shoulders. “You get ‘em onto a plate and I’ll finish up the veg. Fred,” he called, grabbing his eldest twin’s attention. “Call your sisters down please?” 

Freddie walked to the edge of the stairs and shouted. “Liv! Rhea!” 

“Coming!” Liv shouted back. 

“Oh yeah, Connor is over tonight,” Daniel wiggled his eyebrows at you and you raised yours. “Finally making the effort, I see.” 

 “It took you about 3 months to meet my parents, they’ve been dating for three weeks,” You chuckled and hit his chest playfully, Maeve speaking to Harry over your shoulder. 

Daniel shrugged, a cheeky smirk on his face. God, he was so pretty. That stupid backwards cap and pretty eyes, and that borderline porno moustache (which may or may not have been the reason Maeve was here…) made you want to jump his bones all over again. “I was a racecar driver-”

“He’s a high school student, be kind,” you reminded him with a kiss on his cheek. You brought Maeve over to the table and finished off the last bits as Liv and Connor came down the stairs. She was 15 and turning into the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. She was so smart. She’d already been on her school debate and mathletes team, bringing both to the championship finals at the national level, you couldn’t be prouder. In all honesty, you’d met Connor before. Liv had wanted you to vet him before she started getting serious, so you got invited to a coffee date with them. He was sweet. Totally boy-next-door-vibes, which was totally her. 

He sent you a soft smile as he sat at the table. 

“Where’s Rhea?” Freddie questioned, sitting at the table, beside Liv. 

“She was on the sim,” Liv explained. “She’ll be down in a few.” 

As if by magic, she came barreling down the stairs and straight into your arms, a quick greeting before taking her spot beside Maeve. Rhea was 11 and every bit the racer her father was. You had hoped the racing gene skipped a generation but alas, it hadn’t and you were already busy researching European boarding schools to send her to in a few years time so that she could move on to single-seaters. She already had a place in the RedBull junior team (despite her father’s reservations) and she was excelling in every single one of her categories. She was a champion, and an F1 champion in the making. 

You sat at the table, the weight of your long day falling off your shoulders as your family gathered. You smiled at the table in front of you. “So, how was everyone’s day?” you asked as Daniel placed the last plate on the table and sat to your left, intertwining his right hand with your left, a smile on his face. 

“Aside from the bruising- thanks Freddie, it was good. Maths test went well,” Harry shrugged, digging into the meal. Freddie rolled his eyes, but Daniel let it go, knowing you'd both be talking to him about his behaviour anyway. 

“Can I see the paper?” Daniel asked through a bite of food. You grimaced. 

“Close your mouth when you eat,” you reminded him, covering his mouth with your hand. He chuckled. 

“I’ll give it to you after dinner,” Harry nodded. “What about you Maeve?” 

Harry was clearly overprotective of Maeve, he noticed how she was the baby of the family and babied her a bit more than everyone else, but they both loved it. She was like a mini him, just even less talkative (unless it was with Oscar- everyone was a big fan of him whenever he came over).

She shrugged. “It was good. We started on multiplication today.” 

“Woah!” Freddie gasped. “That’s pretty big,” he smiled brightly at his little sister. “You’re getting older,” he chuckled, ruffling her hair. She pretended to pout, but laughed as she fixed her hair. 

“That’s great Maevey,” Liv smiled from the other side of the table. “If you need any help with your homework I can give you a hand,” Liv offered and Maeve nodded, going back to eating her dinner. “I have another test next week.”

“What about this time?” Daniel asked, exasperated. “They need to give you a break at some point.” 

“Chemistry,” she sighed. “Connor has it too.”  “I didn’t know you took chemistry,” you turned to him, noticing how rigid his body language was, hoping to make him a bit more comfortable by bringing him into the conversation. “How do you find the teacher? Liv hates him.” 

Connor shrugged lightly. “I mean… he’s not the greatest teacher in the school, but I like his study packs, I think they’re pretty handy.”

“Who is it again?” Freddie asked, knowing Connor from the rugby team. 

“Mr. Brown,” Connor answered and Harry groaned. “I had him last year! He’s so annoying!”

You turned your head to Daniel, who was already looking at you with that lovesick look. You chuckled quietly. “What?” you mouthed. 

“Just love you,” he mouthed back. It still made your heart skip a beat. 

When everyone was finally down to bed, you tucked yourself into Daniel’s side and sighed against his skin. 

“You alright?” he whispered into the darkness of your bedroom, enjoying very much how close you were to him. 

“Just thinking,” you admitted. “The kids are so grown up.” 

He’d come to the exact same conclusion at dinner, watching as Freddie and Harry teased Liv, how Harry babied Maeve, how Liv laughed with Rhea, and how they all looked a lot older than 17, 15, 10, and 6. “I know what you mean,” he chuckled against your skin. “We did a pretty amazing job. We have some pretty incredible kids.” 

You laughed against his collarbone, a melodic sound he would never get tired of. “I guess we did,” you agreed. “Hard not to when they have such a brilliant role model,” you looked up at him with adoring eyes, and he felt himself soften. No jokes. No messing. Just pure… love for the life you two had built over the years. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For them. For you. For everything.”  “Thank you,” you smiled and leaned in, kissing him gently. Maybe you two weren’t the young guns you used to be, riding dirt bikes around his family’s estate, and kissing in cars, but you two were more than fulfilled.

navigation for my blog :)

redbull and vcarb masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi, sorry if this is an insensitive question but I was wondering if you have books by black authors that don't center racism? It's not that I want to live a blissful life not knowing about racism, I'm dark skinned nb woc, racism is part of life. I just noticed that unless it's a romance book, every 'by black authors' book list I find will have all the books with racism being a major theme. As if being a black author means publishing will only sign if you write about racism. I want to read something different, happy and humorous, fantastical, scry, whatever. I don't want every book I read from black authors to be about race the same way I don't want every book by queer authors I read to have homophobia. I got some recommendations before and all of them were like "hilarious book where author talks about racism they faced in a funny way", I feel exhauated. I know different books have to exist but I can't find them when I google.

sorry I'm so charmed by the idea that asking a white bitch for book recs about Black people doing something other than experiencing racism might be insensitive

anyway you're right like!!! a lot of authors of color only get to crack into publishing if they're willing to write about their suffering and be lauded for that and like, cool, bless up for writing that but would be cool to pay attention to stuff that's not all pain and suffering!!

I'm going to caveat to say that some of these will contain, you know, References to racism, especially if they take place in the real world, since Black authors and Black characters are gonna acknowledge that, but I'm not gonna rec like. The Hate U Give where that's The Point, yknow? also a lot of these are still rather dark and grim as novels because of who I am as a person and what I like but I hope will still be helpful. check the content warnings for everything I recommend ever.

ANYWAYYY

gotta shill for Akwaeke Emezi right out of the gate as usual: their most recent novel, Little Rot, is a pitch black thriller that starts with a Nigerian couple breaking up in Lagos and proceeding to have the most evil and deranged weekend anyone has ever had. truly almost content warning in the book for this one, BUTTTTT racism is like. the least of anyone's worries. girl, there are hitmen.

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite is another Nigerian novel that's more of a dark comedy about a dutiful older sister who's been cleaning up her impulsive and beautiful younger sister's dead boyfriends for YEARS. shit comes to a head when little sis sets her eyes on a man her older sister likes (who's also her boss!!! gag!!!).

Helen Oyeyemi's novel The Icarus Girl is a quietly creepy horror about a young mixed English girl who visits her mother's Nigerian family and comes back with a commanding, powerful imaginary friend that no one can see, who starts causing terrible things to occur once the family is back home. I was blown away by how well Oyeyemi wrote little Jessamine's POV; really nailed the smart, lonely, anxious child perspective.

Darknesses by Lachelle Seville is a WILD paranormal indie pub that i read earlier this year that's soooo messy and so entertaining. I think I described it as feeling like reading through someone's blog about their OC's? it was a hoot. the basic premise is that a young Black woman named Oasis, physically and mentally scarred from escaping a cult, is working at a bookstore in New York City when she meets another gorgeous Black girl who claims to be in love with her... and also to be an incarnation of Count Dracula.

if we want some high fantasy I really, really love NK Jemisin's Dreamblood Duology, which is set in a fantasy version of ancient Egypt and revolves around a class of priests who utilize the magic of dreams. political intrigue ensues!

love of my life Janelle Monáe curated a collection of short stories called The Memory Librarian, where each story is written by a different author and is inspired by the world of Monáe's album Dirty Computer. Danny Lore's story Nevermind, based on the music video for Pynk, is my #1 favorite thing.

also if we want some nonfiction I truly adore all of Samantha Irby's essay collections so much; there aren't a lot of writers who consistently make me LAUGH laugh but she gets me. her most recent, Quietly Hostile, has some top notch shenanigans re: having to go to the hospital for a very stupid allergic reaction at the height of COVID social distancing.

you may also find inspo here (I know I did!!)

and here (I'm especially intrigued by Meet Me at the Crossroads)

[itsaintmebabe]

he stands up for you in an interview (midsize!reader)

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ drivers: charles leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris, max verstappen and carlos sainz

notes: this kinda came to me during the spanish gp today, let me know how you guys feel about it cause i’m not entirely sure abt it so lmk!! <3

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ masterlist

₊˚⊹ᰔ CHARLES LECLERC

He’d just come off the podium, drenched in champagne and Ferrari red, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he stepped into the media pen. Charles was running on adrenaline and pride until a journalist leaned in with a knowing look.

“Charles, you’ve been seen out with your girlfriend a lot lately. Some fans are saying she’s not what they expected from someone in your position. How do you respond to that kind of surprise?”

Charles blinked once.

“What they expected?”

His voice was calm, but the chill in it made the reporter hesitate.

“Yeah, just, you know… public figures usually date a certain ‘type’ and—”

Charles cut him off gently but firmly.

“She’s exactly my type.”

He folded his arms loosely, still not raising his voice, but something steel-like settled into his expression.

“She’s smart. She’s kind. She knows me better than anyone else, and she’s beautiful to me,” he emphasized. “If people are surprised, maybe they should spend less time imagining what kind of woman someone like me should be with, and more time questioning why they think they get a say at all.”

He gave the reporter a tight, diplomatic smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Next question, please.”

₊˚⊹ᰔ OSCAR PIASTRI

Oscar had just scored a clean P2 and was relaxed, arms crossed, posture easy. He was talking about race starts and tire temps, until someone slipped in a question that made his brow twitch.

“Oscar, some people think your girlfriend isn’t really the ‘look’ they associate with someone at the top of Formula 1. Does that kind of public reaction ever give you pause?”

Oscar’s entire body went still.

“No. It gives you pause, apparently.”

The reporter blinked. “Just saying, there’s a certain image that comes with being in your position—”

Oscar’s eyes narrowed.

“You know what image I care about? The one I see when I come home after a race. When she’s curled up with a book and one of my hoodies. That’s it.”

He shrugged, voice still even but there was a bite now.

“If that doesn’t fit into someone’s aesthetic fantasy, that’s their problem. Not mine. Not hers.”

He glanced at the camera with a smirk.

“And definitely not yours.”

₊˚⊹ᰔ LANDO NORRIS

Lando had just taken the win and was practically bouncing, messy curls, cheeky grin, and post-race glow. He was in a good mood… until someone tried to sour it.

“Lando, fans online have been debating whether your girlfriend’s the ‘right look’ for someone who’s becoming a brand icon. Do you ever think about image in that way?”

Lando laughed. He actually laughed.

“Are you for real?”

The reporter started to respond, but Lando shook his head.

“You think I’m dating someone because it looks good in a photoshoot? Mate, I date her because she’s wicked. She's hilarious. She's sharp. She's a bit stubborn sometimes—” he grinned, fond “—but she gets me. And yeah, she’s hot as hell.”

He leaned toward the mic, playful but very pointed.

“I’m not worried about my image. I’m more concerned with whether she’s gonna beat me at Mario Kart again tonight and talk shit about it for a week.”

Lando shot the camera a wink and gave the next interviewer a wave.

“Let’s talk about the race now, yeah?”

₊˚⊹ᰔ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max wasn’t in the mood.

P2 felt like a loss, and the media pen was the last place he wanted to be. But he was standing there anyway stone-faced, giving short answers, until someone really pushed it.

“Max, your girlfriend’s not exactly what we expect from an F1 champion’s partner. Do you ever feel like you could be with someone who fits the image more?”

Silence.

Max stared at the reporter. No blink. No shift in expression. Just complete, icy stillness.

Then, very slowly.

“Did you just ask if I’d trade my girlfriend for a better… image?”

The reporter tried to reword, but Max held up one hand.

“No. Don’t backpedal. I heard what you said.”

He took a breath, voice low and flat.

“She doesn’t need to be anything other than who she is. I don’t date people to impress strangers. I date her because she makes me feel like myself. Because she’s brilliant. And yeah I think she’s stunning.”

Max looked the reporter straight in the eye.

“If that bothers you, I’d say that’s your issue. Not mine.”

Then he turned to walk away no fanfare, no press officer needed just gone.

₊˚⊹ᰔ CARLOS SAINZ

Carlos was in good spirits, having fought his way to a gritty P4. He was laughing with the Spanish press, animated and bright, when a British journalist edged in with a question that turned the air a little colder.

“Carlos, with so many drivers dating models and influencers, fans were surprised to see you with someone a bit different. Is that a deliberate choice, maybe to be more lowkey?”

Carlos tilted his head, smile still on his face but his eyes had narrowed just slightly.

“I didn’t know love was a PR strategy.”

The reporter coughed, flustered. “Well—of course not, but—”

Carlos raised a hand, cutting him off gently.

“Look. She’s not ‘lowkey.’ She’s just real. No filter. No act. She’s herself all the time. And to me, that’s rare.”

His voice softened, but not his resolve.

“I don’t care what anyone expects. She’s smart, she’s loyal, she’s beautiful and when I look at her, I don’t see a comparison. I see her. That’s enough.”

Then, in classic Sainz fashion, he smiled again calm and a little smug.

“And trust me, if you met her, you’d get it.”

[ghostyuri]

pain breaks the rhythm

click here!

pairing…ellie williams x gn!vampire!reader

in which…ellie wants you to bite her out of curiosity. or something more.

before you read…18+. no smut; vampirism is just sexual. blood drinking.

nirvana plays lowly in ellie’s dorm, her warm fairy lights mixed with orange halloween ones, on the verge of falling due to how lazily she placed them.

they cast a warm glow in the small space, and over the few scattered books on her bed. they lay in between you, along with some notes, both of you sitting in silence as your brains are completely fried from studying at this point.

ellie hasn’t even spoken in five minutes, and knowing her, that means her mind is either empty or on overdrive. she keeps looking at you, as you keep looking at your phone, awaiting a message from whatever girl replies first.

your appetite is growing by the minute, and you can feel it. it causes your head to hurt, and your fingers to fidget, tapping them on your thigh as you attempt to focus on the opened textbook before you.

your little secret wasn’t a secret to ellie. you had trusted her with it, because you trust her with your entire life. she had found the whole thing fascinating, like something out of the many comic books she grew up reading.

except, this is reality, and it’s not as pretty as those colorful pages make it out to be. you’re not a murderer, you don’t have it in you. you’ll stalk the alleys of jackson for rats when desperate, and butter up pretty girls who think your bite is just that— a bite.

a painful yet sensational feeling that makes them want more, and why you rely on them in moments like these.

and for some reason, none of them want to fucking reply to you tonight. it feels like torture, and ellie almost feels bad watching you grow anxious— but she also doesn’t. you and another girl��it makes her want to throw up.

she’s not caught up with her lore, but a kiss from a vampire is equivalent to a proposal to her. and no one, other than her, deserves that from you. she tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, heart jumping out of its chest when she finally speaks, “i’m curious.”

“hm?” you hum, glancing at your phone again, going over your irrelevant notifications to see if you missed anything. “what it feels like…you know…”

you look up at her, “what?”

“a bite…what it feels like,” she says shamefully; as if she’s admitting the most taboo thing ever. maybe because she had imagined it, seeing you at a corner of a party, head snuggled comfortably in a blonde woman’s neck, everyone else distracted by the blaring music and bumping bodies while she was stunned like a deer in headlights.

how she wasn’t disturbed, she was so far from. she thought about it being her, and letting you take what you wanted, not just what you needed. she could be your personal buffet, she would do that for you in a heartbeat. ellie could satisfy you. no one else, just her.

but, you laugh at her words, as if she told you a joke. ellie did have a habit of shitty vampire jokes and puns, often made in group settings because she thinks it is hilarious to have such an inside joke. she grabs your complete attention, “i’m serious.”

the smile you wore, leaves your face, understanding what she was trying to imply without asking. something off the table, absolutely forbidden.

“no…no, ellie,” you tell her, the rejection like a stake to the heart. there was absolutely nothing more in this universe you’d want more than to taste her, just the idea of it makes your heart beat even faster, shaking your head as though it would rid the enticing picture. you’re hungry enough as is.

“why?”

“because ellie.”

“you can do it to anyone else but not me?”

her question is more of a salty remark, causing you to glare at her, ellie now quickly swallowing whatever other comment she already had prepared. she doesn’t get it, she really doesn’t, and you cannot explain it to her.

how drinking from other people is a necessity, like eating food to her. how you have absolutely no emotional attachment to them, and you don’t crave any more than you’re given.

and with her, someone you love deeply, you could drain her completely. which isn’t an overstatement. you’ve watched the blood run along her veins on more than one occasion, how thick and sweet it is.

you can taste it on your tongue without having a single drop if it…how good it would taste running down your throat. you would get drunk off of her.

“it’s not that simple…you’re…you,” you scratch the back of your neck, confusion crossing her pretty features at the statement. “i’m me?”

“yeah…god, ellie, can we drop it?”

you don’t mean to sound so frustrated, but you are. ellie isn’t aware of the weight of her words, how her desire isn’t just hers. you share it, you want her. you want to quite literally devour her.

your phone vibrates, ellie trying to read the notification, someone asking to meet up with a stupid wink face. a sigh leaves her lips, sinking into her bed, redirecting her gaze to the book in her lap.

“see you tomorrow?” she quietly says, assuming you’re ready to go have dinner. and you should, you know you should, but you remain seated on her bed.

“it’s…hard…when it’s someone close to you,” you try to explain, “and i could hurt you.”

she’s sat up straight again, green eyes boring into you. “could isn’t a for sure thing,” ellie says, “i could get hit by a car tomorrow.”

“that’s not— you don’t get it.”

“i do,” she groans, tossing her head back, huffing, then looking back at you, “…i…trust you.”

the contemplation rests on your face, ellie noticing, her determination still adamant. she reaches for your hand, grabs it, and faintly leans forward.

“you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

the cool air thickens with tension as you consider her request, listening to how hard her heartbeat thuds. it compels you, along with the unwavering gaze of her green irises, luring you into her. she adds, “it’ll be a win-win.”

ellie is right. you think you could attack the first person you’d see when you leave her room, suck them until the light leaves their eyes— mouth salivating thinking about it. you’re practically starving, or so feel that way, and ellie could easily relieve you.

“okay.”

you expect a shit-eating grin on her face, the mischief glint in her eyes whenever you give her what she wants. and this was practically giving her the greatest gift on earth, yet her mouth drops ajar and she looks shocked, even nervous.

“really?”

“yeah…if that’s what you want.”

“yeah— yeah,” she responds almost too quickly, but she has already shown her desperation for you.

you push away everything in between you two, getting close enough to where you’re nearly in her lap.

“it’ll hurt.”

“i can take it.”

you watch the low spoken words leave her mouth, the suggestive tone combined with her hand squeezing yours, abruptly taking the air from you. for a moment, you find yourself more attracted to her lips, than her neck.

a very brief moment, because you’re swiftly distracted by the pumping of her jugular, the veins screaming at you.

you steady yourself, “ready?”

ellie nods, and with that, she lets your gentle hand cradle one side of her jaw, tilting it upward. her breathing hitches while you move in closer, fangs grazing the soft skin of her neck.

the heat radiating from her pulse sends shivers throughout your entire body, carnal desire growing stronger each millisecond that passes. along came restraint, slowly sinking your canine teeth in the side of her neck, afraid of actually hurting her.

she gasps immediately, guilt hitting you at the noise. maybe you should pull back. maybe you should stop, and apologize to her for even agreeing to this.

but the moment her smooth blood runs down your tongue, your delicate pressure turns into something feverish, electrifying. you crave more.

you bite harder, sucking the crimson from her body with your eyes fluttering to the back of your head, your worries about the ordeal fading into oblivion. ellie tastes even better than your fantasies, like the ripest fruit in the orchard, so fucking rich.

she is unlike anyone else— you mean that in every way, but the taste of her might just drive you mad. the way her blood rushes into your lungs, she fills you up just right.

when she whimpers, you moan, continuing to feast on her, the warm liquid is like ecstasy. ellie is gripping the sheets beneath her, the pain she feels is euphoric. addicting. damn perfect.

you’re driving her to an edge she’s never been before, in between life and death, a high that makes her body feel lightweight and her mind empty. the only thing she can think about is you, and your fangs inside of her, her life being in your hands as she gives you life.

for ellie, it is the best feeling in the fucking world.

she truthfully believes you could gnaw on her flesh until it was raw, and she would welcome the burning sensation with wide open, and loving, arms. she falls back, onto her pillows, your lips not leaving her for a single second.

“fu…” ellie murmurs, unable to finish the word, mind suddenly blanking.

on top of her, you can feel ellie shuddering beneath you; this is it.

for a moment, everything fades away. her warmth, her pulse, and the world surrounding you. you listen to her whimper once more, the color leaving all of her features, going pale.

your indulgence comes to an end, divorcing yourself from the crook of her neck, scanning her face out of worry you had gone too far.

she’s exhausted, breathless, fluttering her eyes at you. her pupils are blown, looking at you with pure admiration, as if you’re an angel hovering before her. then, she smiles faintly at you. and how beautiful she looks so drained underneath you.

you bring a hand to her face, thumb stroking her freckled cheek gently, “still with me?”

“mhm,” she hums, and you give her a moment to collect herself. you await for her heart rate to return to normal, for her temperature to rise, hand traveling down to her neck in the meantime.

softly, you touch the puncture wound, a strange feeling of pride at the mark. not wanting to heal it, and not wanting ellie to cover it up. it’ll remain a happy reminder of tonight.

when ellie’s pupils are no longer fuzzy, she takes in the view before her, her blood coating your face, on your mouth, on your chin. sinful thoughts run through her head, it makes her feel wrong— perverse —but with how tantalizing you look, she doesn’t care.

ellie almost wants to take a polaroid, and keep it locked away safely in her underwear drawer, afraid this won’t happen again.

she reaches for your face, thumb swiping the stray trail of crimson on your chin. you think she’s cleaning herself off of you, but she has different intentions.

after experiencing such an intimate moment with you, ellie feels bold, and she keeps it going, daring to brush her thumb against your lips— giving you a very clear signal, and order.

one that you accept, mouth opening slightly. her finger slips in, and your tongue curls around it.

ellie’s teeth dig into her bottom lip while you suck the blood off of her thumb, your eyes shut in bliss at the mere taste of her. you wouldn’t waste a single drop.

ellie is hypnotized by you, by the way you bring your hands to her forearm, holding her tightly in place until you are finished. and when you are, you glance back down at her, noticing how flustered she is by the pink hues of her cheek.

you can’t help but laugh, and she gulps, realizing she’s been caught in her trance. it’s cute.

the sudden confidence she had is now fleeting as you crawl off of her, ellie searching for the right thing to say. unfortunately for her, the only words that want to come out are ‘i love you,’ as if you had just taken her fucking virginity.

she decides to keep her mouth shut, lying there dazed.

ellie would happily die to you, if this was the death you’d bless her with.

[esouliie]

DONT POKE THE BEAR.

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader

– synopsis | you’re known to be quite a tease, especially for your girlfriend, but what happens when you push her too far? will she be able to control herself or will you force her hand?

– warnings | smut, thigh riding, wanda wants to be your mommy hehe, strap on (r!receiving), orgasm denial duh, she eats it from the back :33, face slapping, crybaby reader again, wanda is kinda mean and punishes you ig but she’s so cute with it idc. (18+)

As you entered the room, you couldn’t help but freeze at the sight before you. There she was, the tall and intimidating woman you had grown so fond of, tucked snugly in bed with a book in hand. But what caught you off guard were the glasses perched on her nose – the nerdiest looking frames you had ever seen.

You felt a bubbling laughter rise within you, threatening to burst out uncontrollably. It wasn't just the glasses themselves, but the stark contrast they created against her usual, intense demeanor. You had never seen her in glasses before, and the image was both endearing and hilarious.

Struggling to contain your amusement, you approached your side of the bed cautiously, trying not to let on that you were on the verge of laughter. But a few giggles slipped and she looked up from her book, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and you quickly composed yourself, managing to offer a sheepish smile instead.

“What's so funny?" She asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Unwilling to lie, you admitted, “you look like a nerd,” and unable to hide your amusement now, you laughed freely.

She was used to your teasing, your playful jabs that never fail to stir her up. In another universe, perhaps, she'd have you over her lap, your apologies tumbling out as you, painfully, realise the extent of your teasing and how mean it was to tease your mommy…

But in this universe, she couldn’t. Not until you were ready.

So she simply chuckled, “and you look like a goof,” eyes trailing down to between your legs, paying close attention to your underwear…

Your bow print underwear.

“Hey! I’ll have you know you loved this goofy apparel the other day.” You cocked your head to the side, stretching up on your knees so your vest rides higher, revealing the top of your underwear where a little pink flower resides, “You loved it so much, I believe you were unable to keep your hands off of me.”

You were obviously right.

Wanda had a thing for you in cute panties instead of sexy lingerie, seeing as stocking and garter belts were more her speed.

Ever the tease, you pulled the duvet off the woman, sending the book flying - as if you even cared - before straddling her warm thighs.

“Oh yeah?” She retorted unemotionally. She wasn’t going to give into your bratty behaviour, no matter how cute you looked on top of her.

“Oh yeah.” You replied mischievously, with a few rolls of your hips. But her hands had latched on before you could continue, halting all your attempts to turn her on.

“Not tonight.”

“Come on, nerd.” You whined, hands attempt to pry hers of your hips. “It’s not even late yet.”

Unmoving, she replied, “don’t call me that.”

“What? You are though.” You ran over her appearance once again, her red curls held high in a loose ponytail as her baby hairs flew abashedly in each direction.

So fucking cute and yet so sexy.

You leaned forward, chest brushing hers. “I mean, who would’ve thought the big, bad Scarlet Witch would need nerdy glasses.”

“What did I say, moya lyubov?” She warned but your fingers only toyed with the arms of her frames, forcing the lenses up and down with each push.

Your incessant need to push buttons drew you closer to a point of no return. Your girlfriend could only take so much more before she snapped.

“Aw is the little witch crying?” You fake cooed, hands playing with the ends of her hair, ready to pull as you deliver the final blow.

“Only a true nerd would get so upset about being called one.”

Pain heated her scalp as her neck was yanked back, but only for a second as you let go of the pressure. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and anger as she grabbed under your armpits, hauling your off her lap like a ragdoll before pinning your wrists above your head.

You felt a surge of fear mixed with a strange excitement as she held you in place, having pushed Wanda so much she’s actually snapped. No longer the collective, push-over girlfriend she had portrayed herself as.

“Are you stupid?” She spat, her entire weight resting upon your stomach. “You don’t listen, do you?”

Clearly unfazed by her words, you smile up at the woman, bucking your hips into her. “Well I guess not, Einstein.”

Even without much strength to it, the sound of the slap is loud. Your head ripped to the side as you gasped for air. Soon enough, you found yourself facing the woman above you. The offending hand now cupping your chin, as light fingers danced over your cheek, already turning red.

You went to speak but she shushed you, soft lips pressed over yours. “No more.” Is all she said but you understood what she meant, as you nod slowly.

No more lip tonight.

“I didn’t want to have to do that.” She brushed a few stray tears away, unbeknownst that you had even been crying. “But you were being bad, baby. Not my usual good girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice unsure of the situation you’re in. Wanda looked mad still, really mad, even though you were only joking around.

“I know, baby, but it’s not nice to be mean to me like that.”

“I was only joking…” You looked away, unable to stand her cold gaze any longer.

Her grip on your chin returned to bring your eyes back to hers. “And I told you to stop, didn’t I?”

You nodded weakly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. You knew she was right, but you didn’t think you hurt Wanda that much. Not enough for her to slap you anyways.

She released her hold on you, moving back against the headboard before pulling you back onto her lap.

She watched you for a second, nothing your refusal to meet her eyes. You looked ashamed, but not too phased of the situation.

“You okay?” She asked, palms resting soothingly on your bottom.

“I’m okay.” You replied as you twirled her nightgown in your fist. “My cheek hurts though.”

“Good.” With that, she pulls you forward, starting a slow steady pace against her stomach, fingers groping, as you take the pleasure with gratitude.

You gasped at the friction, and Wanda chuckled when she felt the damp patch across your panties. “Oh. You liked that, didn’t you? Like when I hurt you, baby?”

Not knowing if she really wanted an answer, you nodded quickly. Hands holding tighter onto her shoulders as you try to speed up, but she moved you off her.

She stood up, leaving her glasses on her bedside table, working her way over towards the wardrobe. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Now let’s see how you like to be teased.”

…

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and Wanda stepped between your legs, the red dildo pressing against your chest as she strokes it like it was actually her own.

“Do you like it?”

“You know I was the one that bought it for you.” You couldn’t help but say with a playful eye roll, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand snaked around your neck, applying immediate pressure before you could even realise.

“Do you want another?” She asked coldly, referring to the red mark now prominent on your cheek.

Fearfully, you shake your head as much as she allows you. “Then stop with the attitude.”

Ignoring your mumbled apologies, she leaned down to kiss you wetly, forcing your mouth open as she shoves her tongue inside.

“Move up.” She pushed you back up the bed, crawling atop you. You sighed, raising your hands to cup Wanda’s breasts spilling from her night slip.

“You want this?” She asked, rocking her hips so the silicone rubbed against your sodden panties.

You licked your lips before circling her hardened nipple. with your thumb. “Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.” She rolled over, moving up to the head of the bed. She sat back, against her pillows and patted her thighs. “Come here.”

You followed her, hands grabbing onto her shoulders. “Like this?” You lifted a leg, straddling across her hips.

“No. Up here.” She removed your hands putting them up on the headboard. “Don’t touch me until I say so.”

Wanda noticed your hesitancy, your eyes solely focused on what’s between her legs. It was bigger than what you usually took.

She guided you to sit slowly, fingers pulling your underwear to the side, feeling yourself stretch around her as you gasped at the intrusion.

“Feels good, baby?” She asked and once again you’re left speechless, only capable of nodding your head stupidly. “Yeah? Your face says it all.”

You rocked your hips slightly, the pleasure all too consuming to stay still much longer.

Wanda chuckled at the state of you, fighting the urge to slap your bottom just to see your timid self jump.

“Come on. Just ride me baby.”

And you did. Your initial shyness long forgotten as you gripped the headboard tighter, and lifted yourself almost all the way off her cock, before bringing yourself back down. You quickly worked yourself up to a steady pace, head dropping low to kiss Wanda hard on the mouth.

She enjoyed the view, tits bouncing within the confinement of your vest, as her dick disappeared inside your swollen pussy. She pushed her thumb against your covered clit, your movement faltering for a moment at the added pressure, before feeling your orgasm start to take over.

“Don’t.”

You heard her say and your eyes snapped open.“What?”

“Don’t come. Stop.” She grabbed your hips, stopping you from moving.

“What? Why?” You asked breathless. You could feel yourself pulse around her, your orgasm fading from view as your body willed you to move, to chase it.

“I told you.” She pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m going to tease you. Now, start again. Go slow.”

You whimpered softly and began riding her again, trying not to go too fast. You managed a good pace, each thrust at the same speed as you rocked against her.

“Ah. Slower.”

You huffed, halting all together, before thrusting into what felt like too slow of a motion to make you come. Besides, your thighs had started to burn as you kept moving at this pace for what felt like hours.

“Wanda.” You mumbled, unable to hold onto the headboard any longer, your arms wrap tight around her shoulders, wanting to feel the woman pressed close against you.

She didn’t give you permission to touch but couldn’t find it within herself to reprimand you when you’ve been listening to her so well.

She stroked your curls from your face. “That’s a good girl.” She cooed soothingly, “Such a good girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come.” You said, voice akin to a whine.

She pressed a few kisses across your face, “You’re going to have to ask nicer than that.”

You made a sound, something between a laugh and a sob, as tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, Wanda.” You paused, sinking further down until she was all the way inside you.

“Keep moving, baby.” She pulled your hips forwards and backwards. “Like this. Nice and slow.”

“So beautiful.” She whispered into your hair, trailing more kisses across your face until she reached your lips.

Your pleas fell on silent ears for a while longer as Wanda worked you up to your limit. Not wanting to overstimulate you but just pushing enough to see how far she can go. How far she can push you into that little headspace she wants to keep you in. “Okay, baby. You need to do exactly what I tell you, okay?”

You hummed and she continued. “You need to get off me and go lay down on your stomach.”

It took a second for your brain to compute what she said, but you did so willingly, and your cunt ached at the feeling of being so empty.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees, I need to put a pillow under your hips.” To which you did, as Wanda positioned her pillow under you. You went to lay down, all too familiar with this position, but hands on your waist stopped you.

A warmth spread across you as Wanda licked up your ruined underwear. The white cotton stuck to you she could see the outline of your pussy so vividly. She moaned at the taste, and you whined embarrassingly loud, pushing your hips back into her face, hoping she’d let you come this time. But she pulled always, as the telltale signs of your orgasm come forth, and knocked you off balance, falling into the soft duvet under you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” She ran soothing hands up and down your back, before pulling your underwear off of you.

She didn’t want to keep you waiting much longer, deciding two denials was enough for your first time.

“You taste so good, but I want you to come on my cock, okay? I promise Im going to let you come this time.”

You mumbled an okay and she took that as the initiative to slide into you. She slowly pulled out and drove back in, in a swift, hard motion, eliciting a loud, surprised moan from you. She repeated this for a little while, watching her dick disappear inside you, only pulling out to thrust back in with vigour, each time causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Please. Faster.” You managed to say and she took pity.

“Okay, baby. No more teasing.” She began thrusting vehemently into you, her own groans mixing with yours as the toy applied pressure to her nerves. Noticing how your body trembled, she leaned forward, the position allowing her to move deep inside your walls, as she boldly swiped her tongue over the shell of your ear, lightly biting the lobe.

One hand moved from beside your head, distributing some of her weight to your lower back as she sat up, the shift causing her to fuck up into the front of your walls.

“Come for me.”

To her surprise, you didn’t come right away. Your body too concerned with what felt like electric shocks as you thrashed under Wanda’s body.

Words melted into nothing as they were cut off by a strangled cry, tears streaming down your face onto the bed.

She turned you over, careful not to pull out as you’d clamped down on her, as she descended upon your lips. “Oh, my good girl.” Her lips moved up over your eyes, “You did so good for me.”

You chose to use what little energy left to wrap your arms around Wanda, pulling her flush to your body as you shook through the after waves.

She whispered sweet nothings as her fingers run upon and down your side until you calmed down.

“You okay, baby? You need anything?”

You hummed, exhaustion evident in your voice. “No, that was fun.” You kissed her lips, playfully poking your tongue at her.

“But you’re still a nerd.”

She scoffed but rolled over, not missing the way your grimace as she pulled out.

“I should’ve slapped you harder.” She mumbled, as she quickly discarded the toy, pulling the duvet over you both, fearing sleep would come quick with how long you guys had been at it.

Oh well, she’d just have to teach you a lesson some other day.

[websterss]

THE DEVIL WEARS CONVERSE — LUKE PATTERSON

SUMMARY: If there's one thing Caleb is scared of it's the color red and the devil.

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff, implications of smut, some making out

WORD COUNT: 3,604

PAIRING: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! This was one fic I lost when I made a new blog and was reposting my works.

MASTERLIST

You had caught Luke's eye as soon as he stepped out onto the floor. Many people flaunting and going amidst their night caught his attention. He felt that he and the guys were a little underdressed for the fancy club, but it had been your appearance alone that had you catching their eyes like flies. They were drawn to you in particular. Luke most of all, couldn't sway where his sights were directed towards.

"Hey boys, I'll be right back." He made to move past Reggie, his hand on his chest in passing but was stopped when Willie intersected him. Luke looked down at the hand that Willie pressed against his chest. He scoffed in amusement. "Where's the fire?"

"N-Nowhere, but there could be. I wouldn't recommend it. Not her. Y/n isn't someone you just go up and talk to." Willie's face fell with fear.

"Oh yeah, why's that? Is she important or something?" Luke laughed, but Willie wasn't finding Luke's advances towards you hilarious. "She off-bounds?"

"Yea- Yeah, she is in fact," Willie said nervously. After taking notice of Willie's shift in tone when he spoke of you, Luke's eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

"What are you getting at, Willie? You seem protective." Luke questioned as he put two and two together. He was almost certain that Alex was Willie's crush, he didn't take him to swing both ways or had he simply misread him, that and the way he reacted just now…it seemed unprecedented. "I thought you liked Alex?" Luke crossed his arms.

"I do- It's not like that. Just- Just promise me you won't approach her. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you guys." Willie pleads.

Luke couldn't help but raise a brow, Willie was acting like she was some sort of monster. "A heartbreaker then, that's okay Willie. I've had my fair share of girls like her." He smiled boyishly. He reached up to slap Willie on his upper arm in reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen." Luke shrugged off Willie. Willie was being dramatic. The interest of doing something irrational intrigued him like a child who was told to not play with fire.

"Luke, I mean it. She's not even a regular. You won't see her that much. She's only ever here on business."

"Only ever here for business, huh?" Luke repeated curiously with an eyebrow up. "Then why can't I talk to her? What's gonna happen, Willie?" Luke wasn't one for following orders, that was not in his nature. He couldn't stand being told what not to do, it only made him crave what he wasn't meant to have or do even more. So, it was no mistake that Willie had made one just now. This little curiosity of Luke's was going to get the best of him. The way Willie made it sound like you did some kind of illicit activity intrigued him even more. "What, does she work for the mob or something?" He said half-jokingly with a brow lift. It was only natural to be enticed by a beautiful woman whom people were being tight-lipped about, it only made you seem more interesting and willing to know more about in his books.

"N-Nothing good." He muttered softly. "Why don't I show you guys to your table?"

"Yes, please!" Alex raised a finger, eager to move past Willie's sudden fear-stricken face.

"You guys go ahead. I'll be right back." Luke finally did move past Reggie and began making his way over to you.

"Luke, I wouldn't!" Willie exclaimed.

"I'm just gonna say hi." He turned to walk backwards as he faced him with a cheeky smile. Then turned as he approached the empty bar, beside you and the bartender giving you your drinks with shaky hands. That had him raising his brows with interest.

-

"Hi Marcus, long time no see." You flashed the man with a sweet smirk. Marcus's smile fell upon the realization you were sitting before the bar. He stopped cleaning the glass in his hands letting it fall to the ground with a smash. He winced at the sound of it breaking. He remained composed as your smile didn't let up. You were the mere image of innocence, you conjured up the identity of a teenage girl this time around. Last year you looked older, dressed up as a woman in a black dress, but this by far was his least favorite one on you, your childlike nature and appearance was scaring him shitless. Your soul was pure rotten, you by no means represented youth and innocence.

"Y/n." He dipped his head in greetings.

"I see Caleb still keeps you around." You tilted your head.

Because he knows I can keep you tranquil. He wanted to say but opted not to. "I'm the only one who can make a dirty cocktail." He lets out nervously.

"That you can, sweetie. Though I'm more in the mood for something sweet tonight, like you." You poke his sternum. Your sweet angelic laughter unsettles him, but he laughs along with you. Knowing Caleb would have his soul again if he made you angry.

"Perhaps a living soul?" He offered with a timid smile.

"Hell no, Lucifer knows I deal with too many of them back home as it is. Why on earth would I waste my time on one tonight? Though you do have a fair amount of them tonight..." You hum surveying the floor. You turned back to the bar. "How about a slushy, make it strong, and fruity." You order.

"So you're not here to collect a soul?"

"I have other matters to tend to Marcus. I've been getting screwed over you see. My bargain with your showman has not been followed down to the last letter, and I am not happy Marcus." You sigh. "I mean how stupid does Caleb peg me? Stealing souls from me." Your laughter darkens with every word that escapes you. "I am a woman of business, and I don't see my need to be tethered to one so insidious. You understand, Marcus?"

Marcus nods furiously. "Where's Willie? As of now, he's my new eyes and ears. Caleb still has his soul right? Of course, he does that's how he controls you all. If this gets out to Caleb sweetie, I'll be the one to devour that pure soul of yours." You raise a brow in question gesturing to his chest. Marcus nods and snaps his fingers. Your requested drink appearing before you. You raised the glass to your lips and let your shoulders drop. "This is why I love you, Marcus."

"Am I no longer your eyes and ears?"

"No." You could see Marcus's disappointment flash in his eyes. "You've been upgraded to my personal assistant."

Marcus felt honored. "Oh wow. Does this mean I don't have to be behind the bar anymore?"

"Only when we come to the club, but other than that..." You snap your fingers nonchalantly. Caleb's stupid stamp floated off of Marcus's wrist. The poor man looked as though he'd cry.

He did.

"Consider it a gift, sweetie. That's all you're gonna get...really." You shrug. You didn't like getting too sentimental with others. Marcus palmed his mouth. Covering it to muffle his cries. You looked around hopefully no one was watching the scene unfold before you. You shrink in your stool and take another sip of your drink. You took another gulp of your drink, enjoying the flavor it had, it was indeed what you had asked for.

"Marcus." You called his name softly when the tears finally stopped flowing. "Look at me." Marcus's head raised and eyes widened with fear once again. "Stop, please."

"S-Sorry. I'm good, I'm good." You nodded with him, your eyes widened with concern. "Thank you..." He muttered softly.

"Sure." You laughed out nervously wanting his hands off you. “Marcus.” You spoke sternly this time which brought him to pay attention and made him stop touching you. “How about another drink, yeah.” You shifted the mood, hoping to reassure him by taking his mind off of being freed by you. "Surprise me this time."

"Yes- Yes, right away." He composed himself as best he could and began to make your new drink.

Luke's gaze was fixated on the bartender's shaky hands, having caught the last of your conversation with him before he grew close. It was something that caught his attention to no end. A burning hole in his brain as he wondered why you had such an effect on people, good and bad. He wanted to know more about you. So he sat on the stool right beside you.

He turned towards you; his hands were resting on the counter, as he tapped along to the melody playing throughout the club. Luke's gaze met yours, raising a brow as he took notice that you were eyeing him. It made him a little self-conscious, but he hid that fact with an amused smirk.

"Nice shoes." His grin brightened. "I'm more of a vans guy myself but I think it's time I make a drastic brand change." Luke turned in the stool, next to the very pretty girl, who looked completely out of place. Your leather jacket and dark blue denim, not to mention your incredibly red shoes, didn't fit the club's dress code.

You peered over the glass in your hand. Your eyes narrowed curiously at the curly-haired stranger who unashamedly sat in the vacant seat next to yours. Surely he had to be pulling your hair. When you saw no falter in his charming smile, you played along. Hoping to amuse the poor lad unaware of the person you were, of your identity. Most would cower at the sight of you but his lack of knowledge told you all you needed to. He was clueless...and a pretty sight. You set your drink down and smirk, turning your full self towards him.

"Thanks. I had them dyed with the blood of the damned." You stuck your leg out, tilting your head in admiration of your shoes.

Your brows pinched closer together upon his laugh. You were confused by his reaction, what had been so funny? You were being your most sincere.

He snickered again, trying hard not to laugh, in fear of offending you. He let out another brief laugh, trying his best not to lose it. It was the way your words so casually rolled off your tongue that got him. He smirked. "Damned you say. Does that mean that you had to damn them yourself or were they already damned and you just decided to take advantage of the opportunity." He joked around, though curiosity filled his mind as he wondered what your answer would be. He sure wasn't expecting your sweet angelic tune that escaped you as a response. Your head fell back. Marcus stilled, looking at the new stranger who caused such a reaction from you and then at you. Was this a stroke you were having and he was completely unaware? He opted to join in, his fake laughs weren't noticed by you luckily.

He eyed Luke as though he put the moon in the sky. He got you to laugh. Completely unheard of.

Luke felt satisfied. His grin widened as he softly joined in on your bubbled display of joy. "I mean they do make killer shoes. I kind of want some now." He shrugged with half interest.

Marcus finally released a stifled laugh. The poor man was holding it in, not knowing where you two would take the conversation. "I can't say I've ever had the urge to wear shoes made of human blood," He spoke in an attempt to keep the energy at bay.

"Well," Luke started, "they're rather fashionable, right? I mean, I know leather clothing is still in style, you're perfectly on top of that trend already." He joked back casually. You felt something strange in your chest as he raked his eyes up and down your entirety. "All I'd be missing is the shoes..." He bit his lip.

"Yeah?" You looked back at him amused. "You want a pair?"

"Why not?" He entertained the idea.

"What is happening?" Marcus mouthed in shock.

What was happening indeed? Didn't he know who you were? His lack of fear was the most shocking part of this whole interaction. Surely he wasn't one of Caleb's newest edition of collected ghosts. Another soul he had taken, or made Willie lure him in to take it while he's blindsighted by the pretty picture Caleb paints for him. For once you wanted to lay your claim on a soul. To rub it in Caleb's face for stealing your portion of the bargain. You extended your hand out to him and asked him what any wise girl would do. You asked for his name.

"I'm Luke." He took your hand gently. Unaware of the marking you placed under his skin. Your bargains, your markings, were more subtle than Caleb's, where he wanted to show them off, you kept yours hidden behind a mere handshake. Along with the idea of never actually telling them you had done so.

"Pleasure." Your grip on his hand remained firm and tight as your eyes searched his own. You could already envision Caleb brewing with envy once he sees you and Luke engaging in a friendly, and dare you say romantic conversation. Luke didn't appear to know the full truth of what was going on. He appeared to be so blindly curious and unaware. So you went ahead and lit a spark to that curiosity as you pressed a finger to the back of his hand, caressing the length of it.

"Luke," you said slowly, testing it out. The name sounded nice; it rolled off your tongue perfectly. Luke, Luke, Luke. He would be your plaything for tonight, perhaps another time as well should you choose to extend that privilege. You felt a tinge of regret for marking a soul as pure as his, you could feel his warmth the second he sat down, but that was soon washed away with his charming grin; it made you want to make him break his moral barriers all the more. He seemed so different from the others, he was your next perfect leverage on Caleb. "I'm Y/n." You leaned forward, Luke's eyes falling in a daze at your sultry voice and doe eyes.

"Y/n..." He breathed out, mesmerized.

"Marcus I want a private space." You turned to the poor lad who was still stunned that this one guy alone was able to sweeten you down like honey. Get on your good side in the blink of an eye. "Now!"

-

Willie had paced back and forth, going over what he would say to Caleb as he waited for him at the bottom steps of his dressing room. When the man of the hour finally descended the steps Willied perked up.

"Oh hey um, Caleb." He smiled. "I brought those ghosts I met, um it's still cool they're here right?"

"Of course William! I even reserved a special table for them." Caleb shrugged him off nonchalantly.

"Woah! Uh alright, um thank you!" Willie reeled back, not expecting him to do something so nice.

"No, no, thank you!" Caleb sipped at his tea and watched as Willie made his way to leave but turned the wrong way.

"That way!" Willie laughed as he turned to go in the right direction this time.

"Hey William, while I have you here. Make sure to let me know when Y/n has arrived. I need at least half an hour to ready myself before her arrival."

"Oh, Y/n? She's already here." Willie shook his head confused, hadn't he known?

Certainly not, it appeared.

"What!" Caleb screeched, making Willie to flinch. The cup in his hands clattered onto the steps. Willie shrunk in on himself as Caleb berated him. "You useless monkey, why do I even keep you around? Oh my god, I'm not even dressed. Quick go make sure she gets everything she wants. Hopefully not my soul...Whatever she wants give it to her. A lifer's soul, it's hers. I don't care. I need to go look presentable. Go!" Willie straightened out as he walked away from Caleb's dressing room with haste. Caleb ordered staff to make sure you remained in a good mood. He was late, you had been earlier than expected and he was about to lose his shit.

-

When Caleb dispersed from the dancers and band, you had rolled your eyes as he made his entrance past the golden curtain.

He gulped nervously when his eyes danced back and forth between you sitting back on the sofa, and Luke kissing down your neck like a lovesick puppy. You hadn't stopped his attack on your skin. Caleb straightened out, clearly his throat to make his presence known.

"I don't like being kept waiting, Caleb, I have better things to do." Your voice broke in soft breaths as Luke found your sweet spot.

"Y/n, nice to have you back my sweet. We've missed your presence at the club and I-"

"Don't patronize me, ghost." You rolled your head back against the cushion.

"Ah, I see you've found our special guest of the night." He laughed nervously. "Have we bored you already, the night has only just begun." Caleb was thankful he didn't have to find you in a much more compromising situation. As he watched your hand run through Luke’s hair, a pang of emotion rose in him, jealousy? Anger? Regret? He felt his emotions bubble over as he watched Luke's lips meet your collarbones, his hands running down your back to your waist. Caleb bit his lip to keep an audible curse from escaping his lips.

You smirked, he was lucky that Luke wasn't getting too ahead of himself, but seeing how things were playing out at the moment it wouldn't take much for Luke to slip. Your attention turned back to him once Luke's lips had moved elsewhere on your body.

"Caleb, how stupid do you think I am?" Your question had caught him off guard.

He was speechless for a few moments before he regained his composure. He laughed a bit in your face. "Y/n, it's obvious," He took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "He's a soul I promise to you in our deal. I got two more waiting on you out on the floor."

Luke's head dropped lower to your chest, his kisses stooping lower down your blouse. Caleb's eyes narrowed at the sight.

"Luke's already mine." You sigh in contentment. "I meant about the souls you’re taking for yourself, Caleb."

"What of them?" Caleb's face remained emotionless. He kept his arms crossed while your head was nuzzled into Luke's neck, you were barely holding on to the conversation while your chest had been preoccupied with Luke's hot breaths. His hands slide up and down your body.

"You can't even deny you've broken our bargain." You reminded him, your mind clouded with the sensation of his kisses. "You know what happens when people cross me, Caleb." You giggled as your breath hitched with every word spoken. You placed a hand over Luke's curls to stop him from continuing his kisses down your torso, his lips rested on your chest instead.

"Surely, we can work something out." He begins softly.

"I don't think so." You spoke plainly, your eyes finally focusing on Caleb. Your hands placed on the back of the sofa, you were feeling a bit confident and sassy, something Caleb hadn't seen for a good while, not with him at least. You sit up causing Luke to fall off you. You grip his chin gently and turn his face towards Caleb. You watch as the ghost shrinks back into the shell of the man that he is as Luke's gorgeous brown eyes flash red at him.

You staked your claim on him. "You touch the other two, and this all goes away." You gesture to the room, to the entirety of the club. "I’m going to need Willie's soul by the strike of midnight. Poor thing needs a break from you seeing as you can't do your job properly. He's mine until I say so. You understand, Caleb." You recline back into the cushion.

"Yes ma'am." He nods, feeling like a child being scolded.

"You can see yourself out now. It's like you said; the night is only getting started." Your angelic laugh is one for his nightmares. Not to mention your red eyes. You hold his gaze as you push down on Luke's curls, his body sinking to the carpet before you. "You might not want to stay around for this next part Caleb. Wouldn't want to traumatize you as it is." Caleb gasps and turns in place of the sound of your zipper being pulled.

Caleb's jaw went slack. His head tilted to the side. He tried hard to hide his surprise, but he wasn't sure what he should have said in this occurrence. "Right… I will be leaving. Enjoy yourselves." He uttered stiffly. Caleb retreated out of the room.

Luke's warm hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them slightly. His lips moved back up to your neck. His fingertips trailed lightly along your collarbone, his breath hot, you could feel his blood rushing. Once you were sure Caleb was out of earshot you pulled Luke up by the collar of his shirt.

"What's wrong?" Luke's dazed-out look had you feeling a smidge of guilt. "I thought we were having fun?" He breathed out a laugh as he tried to lean in to kiss you.

"It's not that kind of business, baby. Another time." You gripped his chin and sweetly placed a kiss on his lips. 

[hollowed-theory-hall]

We don't talk enough about Ron's mean streak

Like, I saw a lot of people talk about how funny Ron is (which is true, he's genuinely one of the funnier characters in the series), how loyal he is when it counts, he's brave as hell, and he is really smart, just not book smart. But what I don't see talked about enough (maybe it's just me though), is Ron Weasley's mean streak.

I talked about how Harry most definitely has what it takes to be a Slytherin, can be scary, and is willing to kill when push comes to shove. I also mentioned Hermione's ruthlessness, but I didn't discuss Ron's mean streak which is a joy when I see it crop up in the book. When it comes up, it always reminds me of the twins, and I feel like that's where Ron got it from.

So I'm just going to bring up a few quotes I had in my notes showing Ron's mean streak, I'm sure I missed some from the earlier books, but I find it a fun aspect of his character.

Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he’s all right?” she squealed through her fingers. “Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.

(CoS, 178)

This type of reaction is seen with Ron pretty often. He really doesn't care when someone he dislikes is hurt or injured and he is very vocal about it. He and Harry kinda share this trait, as seen above.

Later in the other quotes I bring up, I show that Hermione is the one usually playing morality police for Ron and Harry even if she herself isn't as innocent as she likes to act.

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!” “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

(CoS, 280)

I love this, Lockhart explodes the cave, obliviates himself, and Ron's reaction is to kick him in the shins. I don't know, I just find it hilarious.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .” Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. “He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

(GoF, 207)

Here you see Hermione the morality police crop up, but I'm talking about Ron here.

Hermione is definitely right in that Draco could've been seriously hurt, but Ron is just glad he saw Malfoy suffering. Actually, in the scene before it, Ron was the one who wanted to curse Malfoy and was held back by Harry and Hermione (as well as in the eat slugs situation in CoS), like, with as much as Harry calls Draco his nemesis, it really feels like Ron is the one that hates Draco and thinks of him as his nemesis.

“She’s an awful woman [Umbridge],” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

(OotP, 324)

I love you, Ron.

This is one of my favorite quotes for him. Hermione shuts down the poison idea, but I think they should've given it a shot, I think it could've been fun.

It would've been cathartic for them at least.

“You take Remedial Potions?” asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. “Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?” As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him. “Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith’s shoulder blades. “Forget it,” said Harry dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really stup —”

(OotP, 528)

I love how Ron always has Harry's back and is ready to fight anyone (including Sirius who he thought was a mass murderer when he was 13 with a broken leg) for Harry's sake. It's a real vibe the Golden Trio has that they're just ready to drop everything and curse out anyone for each other's sake. They are just so protective of each other and I love this for them, how they are all just each other's people, yk.

It's also another example of how Ron is the one of the trio that offers violence as the answer the most often.

“Reparo!” said Hermione quickly, mending Ron’s cup with a wave of her wand. “That’s all very well, but what if Montague’s permanently injured?” “Who cares?” said Ron irritably, while his teacup stood drunkenly again, trembling violently at the knees. “Montague shouldn’t have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!”

(OotP, 679)

Again Ron doesn't care for the injury of people who he considers deserving.

“Madam Pomfrey says she’s just in shock,” whispered Hermione. “Sulking, more like,” said Ginny. “Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,” said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

(OotP, 849)

Like, regardless of whether Umbridge was SAed or not (for the record, I don't think she was) it's not a nice thing to do. Umbridge is awful, but this is Ron literally spreading salt on the wound. but like I mentioned above, she's in the "deserving it" category.

“will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.” “Oh,” said Ron, looking sheepish. “Yeah. All right.” “If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her,” said Harry.

(HBP, 411)

That is honestly so mean. Like, I'm not Lavender's biggest fan, I find her annoying, but she's a teenage girl in her maybe first relationship and she did nothing really wrong. I feel truly sorry for her for how Ron treated her, it wasn't really her fault. It's just mean that he pretends to sleep instead of talking to her.

“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry’s new poster boy.” Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!” “No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. “It’ll make me feel better!”

(HBP, 650)

Like, this is peak sibling behavior, but as I mentioned earlier, Ron tends to want to resort to violence more often than Harry and Hermione do (especially in the earlier books, as Harry does grow angrier after Sirius' death). He is usually the one to bring violence up, and I find it an interesting aspect of his character.

And Ron is correct in the fact hitting Percy would make him feel better. Not saying if it's the right thing to do, but Ron really would experience it as satisfying because Percy would deserve it in his mind.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

(DH, 167)

As I mentioned in one of the Harry posts, Harry is calling the shots, but Ron is the one who offered to kill the Death Eaters. He put that idea on the table. He was relieved when Harry said they shouldn't kill them, but if Harry said it'd be better if they killed them — Ron would've backed him up and done it, while Hermione might've preferred to pretend it wasn't happening.

“That treacherous old bleeder.” Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. “Hermione you’re a genius, a total genius. I can’t believe we got out of that.” “Cave Inimicum. . . Didn’t I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn’t I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!” “Serves him right,” said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs, “What’d you reckon they’ll do to him?” “Oh I hope they don’t kill him!” groaned Hermione, “That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn’t been lying!”

(DH, 424)

Again, Ron not caring/enjoying when people who deserve it suffer. Xenophilius wanted to help them, he tried to persuade them not to come into his home at first so he wouldn't give them in, he tried so hard even though the Death Eaters had his daughter! Harry rightly feels bad for Xenophilius and Luna, it's easy to understand why he did what he did.

Hermione and Harry hope he is fine, but Ron is the one who thinks he has it coming. That he deserves to have his house blown up for betraying them, regardless of his reasoning.

I think Ron is the most black-and-white in his thoughts about people among the trio. There are those who deserve anything that comes to them and those who don't. Specific circumstances and context don't really play a part in what bad people deserve coming to them.

I don't know, I just find this interesting.

Harry has the compassion to understand people, even ones who harmed him or the people he cares about, he is capable of forgiving Voldemort and never really hated Draco.

Hermione is pretty black-and-white in her view of people, having the people she trusts and those she doesn't. She trusts Snape because he's an authority figure trusted by Dumbledore (and Hermione is the one who is truly Dumbledore's woman true and true in the books). Her view on people has less to do with their actions, but who they are endorsed by. She is compassionate to Xenophilius because he's Luna's dad, and Luna is good, therefore, she wouldn't love someone who is bad.

Ron is black-and-white in how he sees people in a very different way than Hermione. He looks at actions, and if you do anything to try and harm him or people he cares about, you get on the shit list. Getting out of Ron's shit list is probably not easy, he doesn't strike me as one who forgives easily and readily the way Harry does, but he does forgive. Like actions can get you on his shit list, actions can get you out. But once a person is on the shit list, they deserve any harm that comes their way.

But Ron is really loyal, and there are people he loves who are basically immune from going on the shit list (like his family, yes, even Percy. While he wants to hit him, I don't believe Ron ever really wished death on Percy). And there is just something interesting about Ron, with his mean streak and everything, being the glue that holds the trio together. Like, in Deathly Hallows once he leaves, Harry and Hermione barely talk to each other, they are barely friends without Ron there.

I don't know, I just love Ron. I love how he is loyal, and friendship glue, but has just as much of a mean streak to him as Harry and Hermione can pull. I just feel like he's sometimes left out of the discussion of how ruthless Harry and Hermione could be. Like, it's true, both of them can be ruthless, but don't leave Ron out. He can be ruthless and actually offers violence as a solution more often than Harry or Hermione do.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SPOILED !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she could easily get away with things and when she couldn’t, he always made sure to put her back in her place

content warning: smut (minors dni!), pwp(ish?), what is context, explicit language, themes of jealousy and sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, impact play, brief mention of oral sex (m receiving), brat taming (dom!fernando), brief lance stroll x reader interaction, shitty smut, what’s beta reading we just rawdog our writing in here

note: i will be making a separate masterlist for this i think… lmk what you think and enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

she can get away from a lot of things. she knew that. fernando knew that. 

in fact, fernando would even reward her for it. after all, she never demanded too much and all he wanted was to give her the world.

she wanted a new pair of shoes? he’d buy her the sneakers AND a pair of red bottoms. she wanted something from macy’s? fuck that; he’d have his assistant book the whole floor of harrods just so she can pick out new clothes for her closet. 

he would give her everything. even if she tends to be very playful and hilarious, he’d give her everything just to see it.

her cheekiness was a welcome distraction from his busy life as a professional racer. she’d often tease him in different ways but not once did she ever cross the lines and tested his patience and limits. she wasn’t really a brat, to say the least— she’d often give up by the time fernando would wrap his arms around her and press kisses all over her face.

and if she didn’t give up her act, he’d put her back to her place. it rarely happened, and when it did— they were rough. she would continue to act up just so he could punish her. she welcomed the pain with no hesitation and allowed him to control her like she was nothing but a body to be tossed around. 

she could get away from a lot. whenever she couldn’t, her excitement would soak through her knickers while thinking about his next move.

but right now, she wasn’t really at fault for being so bratty. her petulant attitude toward him wasn’t something that she expected from herself, but when her partner continued to ignore her throughout the party after arriving separately— the least she could do was throw his attitude right back at him. more petulantly, if you were to compare her actions to his.

she sat by the bar counter and quietly sipped on her drink, her ears ringing at the sound of his laughter from the distance alongside other men while they spoke about the happenings during the race earlier today.

she looked so pathetic like this; dressed up in the prettiest slip dress that turned to be a fabric of despair. she was the prettiest woman to have ever existed, and even the rest of the grid thought so, yet she looked so alone. she blamed fernando for this. 

all she wanted was him. she only wanted him right now. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet, in a world where he’d give her everything, he wouldn’t hand himself over to her. instead, he was laughing with lewis and carlos as they chatted about whatever the fuck it was. 

“you’d make a good renaissance painting,” her head shot up at the sound as she found lance stroll sitting next to her. the canadian beamed at her teasingly before sipping on his whiskey on the rocks. 

she scoffed, “if you want to see me naked, just say that.” 

lance laughed over the club music that continued to bust everyone’s eardrums. he then continued, “i would say that but do i really want to get my engines busted by a certain teammate before the next race?” 

her thoughts drifted back to fernando, who, from afar, had gone quiet (not that she knew that), before she rolled her eyes. “don’t be stupid,” she said, “i don’t think he’d care enough to ruin your car.” 

“you’re underestimating the man,” lance chuckled, “way too much, if anything. he could kill with just a look if anyone’s made a passing comment about you.” 

“i really should stop showing up at these stupid races,” she muttered quietly, “it’ll get worse as soon as people find out i hang out in the garages or paddock.”

“why?” lance asked, his frown an evident of concern as he said, “are you two not a…” 

“no, we’re not,” she interrupted with a huff, downing the rest of her drink as she continued, “it’s still the same arrangement. i could just stay at home and still get an allowance— i dunno why i said i’d come with him. look where i am now. he’s doing the same shit he does whenever he’s arriving at the paddock— i have to go after him so nobody knows who i am.” 

it was so obvious that she and fernando should be more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. he showed her something more than financial support and casual intimacy— yet he kept it on the down low as if she’s just a pastime. 

“damn,” lance muttered, offering her a sympathetic smile as he said, “is the money that good?”

“i don’t even care about the money anymore,” she laughed quietly, her eyes pausing from their track as she saw the obvious glare from her partner. he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing.

yet she ignored his heavy scowl as she beamed, “i’m sure you’d be able to provide more if it was about it.” 

lance smirked lazily, now realizing what she was implying as he replied, “i’m sure i would’ve given it to you already if you weren’t as attached to fernando as you are now.” 

looking away from fernando, she covered her excitement and petulance with a giggle before she shoved lance lightly. “shut up.” 

sure, she could get away from a lot of things. but the way fernando stared at her coldly while she was acting all playful towards lance told her enough about the kind of treatment a spoiled brat like her would get from him. 

all she could do was squirm at the thought. 

her mouth let out a shrill cry as fernando pulled her mouth away from his cock, saliva dribbling down her chin to her chest as she felt a sharp pain on the roots of her head. he continued to grab a handful of her hair as he looked down at her. 

his eyes showed nothing of affection. his face offered nothing but mockery and anger. not towards her— but her bratty attitude that she showed tonight. 

he never felt so jealous until he saw lance talking to her up close. and he’s never been angrier than what he felt when she let his teammate get close like that. like she could just move on after talking to the man with a flirtatious smile and get away from her crimes that easily. 

her petulance and constant refusal on the way back to the hotel led to where she was now. her thighs rubbed against each other while tears trickled down her reddening cheeks.

she was desperate for his cock and his touch. both of which she didn’t even deserve despite being his spoiled girlfriend.

she tried to be prideful and strong as she refused to listen to his orders. 

it was too bad for her because while she thought that her pride was big, fernando alonso’s pride was bigger. his ego and his desire to control were what she enjoyed most about this— and these were his tools to tame her. 

“did you think that you can get away from that, hermosa?” he spewed out, watching her as she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “not listening to me and letting those men get near you— you’re not very smart, are you?”

“m- fer—“ she babbled, only to be interrupted by the clicking of his tongue as his other hand gripped her chin tightly. finally letting go of her hair, he tilted her chin up to his direction without a word. 

he growled quietly, “you’re such a disobedient girl. a very ungrateful and disobedient girl. you don’t deserve my cock after all of this, hermosa.”

“n- no! please-“ she exclaimed, squirming against the hold on her chin as she pleaded with him, “‘ll be good! i’ll be a good girl, i pr- promise. jus’ wan’ your cock- please nando!” 

his breath fanned on her face as he chuckled quietly, “you don’t listen to me unless you want it, hm?”

his hand let go of the grip for a moment, only for his palm to strike her cheek as he gripped her face once more. “open.” 

her brain, feeling hazy from the impact of his slapping and being deprived of his touch and his cock, short circuited. fernando tsked, tapping her reddening cheek once more as he crooned, “look at you, amor. you’re so dumb for my cock, eh? such a stupid bratty girl— wanting my cock when she doesn’t deserve it— open your mouth, hermosa.” 

she obliged, not wanting to disobey him anymore as he grinned. his grin eventually turned into a frown before spitting in her mouth as he demanded, “you know what to do.”

closing her mouth, she swallowed without a hesitation while her glistening eyes looked up at him.

“so you listen then,” he laughed mockingly, “i thought i’ve already fucked your mouth until you turned stupid.” 

she rubbed her thighs against each other, hoping for some sort of relief as a whine escaped her throat. “what’s wrong, hermosa?” tears escaped her eyes as she continued to plead with him wordlessly. “that’s not going to get you anywhere right now— not after you pulled that shit earlier just so you can piss me off.”

she couldn’t find a way to speak, humiliation and pleasure mixed with her adrenaline as she babbled, “i- i wan’- ‘m…” 

“speak up,” he laughed once more. “you’re way too mouthy earlier— what is stopping you now?” 

she whimpered, feeling too frustrated and already feeling too fucked out. she really wasn’t going to get away with all of those things that she did just to catch his attention earlier.

she just wanted him, but she couldn’t seem to get it all out because of the immense pleasure that she received from being disciplined. 

he chuckled quietly, “you want my cock?” 

she nodded frantically, a series of murmurs escaped her mouth as she meekly cried out, “want you to fuck me, please, please, please nando~ ‘m a good girl.”

“no, you’re really not, hermosa,” he grinned wickedly, “if you were you would’ve known not to flirt with those people. but i guess it was my fault that i’ve left you hanging and horny before we went, no? otherwise you wouldn’t have been that stupid to tease them like you would with me.”

she squirmed again, whimpering at his words as fernando continued, “but i’ve given you so much that you always find a way to get some more. i think that my little slut should be thankful for what she’s getting instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

she couldn’t even find herself to protest. she was so drunk in lust and his dominance that she couldn’t find herself to fight back against his words. 

her love for him would have to wait. she was in too deep right now and if it meant that she’ll get an orgasm and maybe more then she’d do whatever it takes to please him. 

after all, she was spoiled already. working hard didn’t sound too bad. 

[twisted-dork]

Jason Meets May Parker (AKA The Woman of His Dreams Because She Beat Up the Joker)

Jason Todd wasn’t a romantic.

He wasn’t the type to believe in love at first sight or fate or any of that Hallmark crap. (He may read romance books but that’s fiction therefore it has different rules so it doesn’t count!)

But standing in front of May Parker for the first time—the woman who had, without hesitation, beaten the absolute hell out of the Joker—he thought, Yeah, I’m in love.

He hadn’t planned to meet her like this.

After all, he had questions.

Who the hell was she? How did she take down the Joker with nothing but a baseball bat and sheer rage? Why did the kid she was protecting act like this was just another Tuesday?

So, naturally, he did what he did best.

He followed her.

Which, in hindsight, might not have been his best idea, because when she caught him lingering outside the library where she worked, she hit him in the chest with a hardcover book.

Hard.

May: “You gonna tell me why you’re lurking like a creep, or do I need to hit you again?”

Jason, stunned, looked down at the book she had just used as a blunt weapon.

Jason: “…Did you just hit me with ‘War and Peace’?”

May: “It was the closest thing I had. Want me to try ‘Moby Dick’ next?”

Jason, for reasons he couldn’t explain, grinned.

Jason: “Well I would appreciate it if you didn’t, you pack quite the heat.”

Jason didn’t lie that hit actually hurt which only made him more curious on just how strong she is.

May: “Well from what I’ve seen here in Gotham I think that’s a good thing?”

She smirked putting her hand on her hip.

Once Jason convinced her he wasn’t a threat (and after she made him hold out his hands so she could check them for clown makeup because she wouldn’t be surprised if The Joker sent people after her), May allowed him to sit with her inside the library.

She watched him warily over the rim of her coffee cup, the same way one might watch a stray dog that had wandered in off the street—curious, but not quite trusting.

Jason, on the other hand, was watching her.

Because she was different.

She wasn’t scared of him. Wasn’t intimidated by the leather jacket, the scars, the general air of menace that usually made people keep their distance.

No.

She just looked… tired.

Tired, but not weak.

And damn if that didn’t make his brain short-circuit a little. He had only planned to feel her out. Figure out what kind of person she was.

But then (the boy who was kidnapped,) Peter ran up to her, tugging at her sleeve.

Peter: “Aunt May! I finished my book! Can I get another one?”

May smiled, ruffling the kid’s hair in a way that spoke of effortless familiarity.

May: “Sure thing, sweetheart. You want another science book?”

Peter: “Mmhmm! I wanna learn about quantum physics!”

Jason blinked.

Jason: “…You’re like, five?”

Peter (scowling): “I’m sevente—!”

May m: “Careful. He’ll start monologuing about multiversal theory if you’re not careful.”

May cut Peter off handing him a book and smoothing down his curls.

And that was it.

That was the moment Jason knew he was completely and utterly screwed.

Because the kid was hilarious, and May Parker was somehow both the most terrifying and most comforting person he had ever met.

And Jason Todd?

Well.

Jason Todd had always had a thing for dangerous women with big hearts. He didn’t say it aloud, but he knew then and there that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Not just because May had wrecked the Joker like it was personal (which by the way he sees how much she loves the kid it’s unsurprising).

Not just because Peter was the most sarcastic seven-year-old he had ever met (at least he’s not trying to stab him like Damian would).

But because she reminded him of the kind of person he wished he had when he was a kid.

Fierce. Protective.

Unyielding in the face of cruelty.

And even if she didn’t know it yet, she had just gained an unofficial bodyguard in him.

Because Jason Todd wasn’t about to let someone like her face Gotham alone.

Not now.

Not ever.

——————————————————————————————————————

I’ll be making a taglist soon so if you want to be tagged then just request in my ask

Masterlist

[flippinpancakes64]

Hi hiii !! I luv your work sm !! I was wondering if i could request something like the cullens with a very sweet/gentle look about them, (pastels, like coquette) but they love heavy metal, horror, they collect odd things like bones and such ! I love the way you write and all your work so far !! <3

The Cullens with a Reader who has an opposite aesthetic

Thank you so much for the kind words!

I was having so much trouble trying to come up with a title for this btw

And I definitely understand this one. My car is completely decorated with pink cutesy stuff and then I blast mcr so

Anyway thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He got whiplash the very first time he saw you

He could hear the music playing through your headphones, but he did not think it was coming from you

He thought he must have been going crazy or something

But he loves it

Blah blah insert something very deep and philosophical about you two being very similar

He thinks of himself as two very different things

The one that people see, the beautiful man

And then the monster he is on the inside

So he feels like you two are one in the same

Alice:

She absolutely loves it

She loves anything to do with fashion in the first place

And she thinks it’s so fun that you’re such a polar opposite on the inside

It always amuses her whenever she asks you what you’re listening to and you give her an earbud

Only for it to be like death metal

She enables this btw

Anytime she sees something cutesy she buys it for you

And if she sees any bones she gives them to you too

“Hold on Jasper there’s a deer skull over there, I need to get it for my partner”

“…what”

Jasper:

He would love you the same if you wore a trash bag

He doesn’t particularly care

He’s not really too “hip” with subcultures to know that bright pink and screamo music don’t really go together

So he doesn’t really see anything odd with it

As for collecting weird stuff like bones and various horror paraphernalia, he’s a little confused

Like what do you mean you want his scraps after he’s done hunting?

But he’ll do it anyway

He always makes sure to clean off a piece of whatever he ate that day to bring it back to you

He just loves seeing you happy

Rosalie:

In a way, she’s the same as you

She presents herself as a stereotypically beautiful woman

But on the inside she loves rebuilding and fixing up cars

So that aspect she can understand at least

What she’s a little confused about I is your love for horror movies

I feel like she doesn’t get them

She just thinks they’re all funny

She’s tried to sit down and watch them with you before, but she just can’t get into them

“The color of the blood in this movies is so wrong”

“That’s not what zombies actually look like”

“These people are so stupid! Just leave the house and go to the police!”

And she’s a little grossed out by the bones thing

She might bring you back a bear tooth if you ask nicely, but don’t make it a habit

Emmett:

He’s so down

He loves it

Some guy tried to make fun of you once, asking if you were listening to like cocomelon or something at school and you just unplugged your headphones and cannibal corpse started blasting

He didn’t talk to you again after that

He thinks it’s hilarious

And I feel like he would like his partners to be a little freaky

Like hell yeah babe I’ll bring back a mountain lion femur

He secretly thinks you’re a witch or a sorcerer or smthn

He won’t ask though

That’s between you and your spell book

Esme:

She was so confused at first

She got to know you at first, hanging out with you a couple of times, and then randomly on like the fifth date you asked to aux

She was shocked to say the least

And don’t even get me started on when she first saw your bones and other weird stuff

She definitely rethought the relationship

But she loves you and who cares if you’re a little weird

She’s not gonna bring home anything for you tho sorry

If you want weird shit you’re gonna have to go get it yourself

I have a feeling she doesn’t really like horror movies either

She jumps too easily

So you guys are gonna have to agree to disagree

Carlisle:

He doesn’t really care too much

Not in the way that he doesn’t care, but in the way that you could literally wear anything and he would still love you

He is a little shocked by your music and movie tastes at first, but ultimately he doesn’t care

He’ll sit down and watch your movies with you as well

They’re not his favorite, but he can stomach them

He won’t talk bad about them at all

He’s very respectful

And if you ask him to, he’ll bring back all of the bones you could ask for

He’ll clean them up for you and everything

He’s just a spoiler at heart

Vampire! Bella:

She loves it

She thinks it’s so fun that you look so different from what you actually like

She was pretty shocked at first

Definitely did not expect it from you

But she’s pleasantly surprised

She enjoys horror movies and heavy music too, so you guys get along

She’s always down to let you aux or pick out the movie you guys watch

And she’s always ready to bring you home whatever you want

You want specifically a moose skull?

Well, she was going to go hunting for a bear, but she’ll run up to Canada for you

[self-indulgent-fanfics]

Family Matters (part one)

Sami Zayn x Reader, The Usos (The Bloodline) x sister!Reader

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, and Reader might seem like she’s very passive, but that was the point of this account, I want to write and post all of the self-indulgent stuff I want without shame.

Reader is described as the Usos’ blood related sister. She will also be described as being strong enough to grapple some of the male wrestlers. There will be some inaccuracies in terms of who Reader is fighting, I had to fit her in there somewhere.

Summary: She fell first, he fell harder. Alternatively: moments in your family’s story where you fell in love with the Honorary Uce, Sami Zayn.

The Women’s Division had never looked better than the modern era of wrestling. So you knew you would have a tough time highlighting yourself as an individual star, especially with so many family members officially wrestling for the WWE. 

You were however the only woman officially in the Bloodline. 

Your brothers being the Usos and Solo Sikoa certainly helped you gain your position, but your ruthlessness in the ring cemented your place behind the Tribal Chief.

It was in the locker room with your brothers and your cousin that you first came face to face with the love of your life. You knew of him obviously, your family knew him personally, they’ve met paths before. But you had never been formally introduced.

It was a gentle knock that drew your attention. Your cousin was too busy ripping into your brother for losing against Riddle so you answered the door with Paul Heyman. 

For some strange reason Sami Zayn was the one knocking. The Wiseman wandered back to Roman with a confused frown, while all you could do was stare in shock. 

He had the sweetest smile on his face and you were convinced you had a crush the moment you looked into his big brown eyes.

Roman gestured for you to let Sami in. As he explained the reason he was even in the room, you continued to just stare. You were attempting to look stern, standing back with Heyman with your arms folded. You couldn’t help yourself though, his energy was just so infectious. He was like a puppy.

As he gave your cousin a proposal to ally with the Bloodline, you had to cover your mouth to hide your giggle. His hasty and nervous exit as Roman stared him down was genuinely a little hilarious.

You left the room shortly after, claiming you wanted to get some food. You caught up with Sami and grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey.” You hadn’t actually planned on what to say once he stopped.

“Uh, hi.” Gosh, even his accent was sweet.

“Good luck out there. Drew can be pretty intimidating.” You tried to give him a warm smile. Whether it worked, you weren’t sure.

“Good thing I’m not scared then.” He wanted to sound tough surely, but you could see through it.

You gave him a nod and a pat on the shoulder. You just hoped he would make it out of there unscathed, Drew could be truly brutal. 

You had to admit, you were a little disappointed in Sami. You thought your pep talk and the back up from your brothers would give him the confidence to face Drew McIntyre without running away.

Then, when he finally couldn't run away, he was defeated in the Steel Cage by Drew. 

A part of you wanted to go comfort him after his loss. A bigger part couldn’t bear defying your family to talk to a man they weren’t exactly excited by.

But he had spoken to Adam Pearce, booking a match with Shinsuke Nakamura to defend your family’s honour. Not only that, but he was beating Shinsuke. You watched the feed nervously, body tired from a match, mind racing about your little crush and what he was doing for your family.

His victory wasn’t pretty but it meant something to you. It showed he was willing to get booed and jeered at but he would do it to prove himself to your family.

You stopped him before he went back to his locker room. Dressed in one of your brother’s hoodies, you pulled him for a quick aside.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “For what? I still haven’t earned your family’s respect.”

“They’re not gonna say it,” you rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, “they’re too stubborn for that. But you’ve earned my respect. And my thanks.”

You pat his back as you walked off, leaving him staring after you with a smaller but more genuine smile.

A couple of weeks later, your brothers were titled the Undisputed Tag Team champions. They were quickly challenged by a vengeful Riddle and his temporary teammates, the Street Profits. They invited Sami to be their third.

You watched backstage as Riddle spoke about his heartache, having lost his best friend to injury. You couldn’t dwell on the sadness you felt from him though.

Your brothers were about to step in the ring with a vengeful rival and one of the best tag teams on the roster. Not to mention, you weren’t exactly sure what their motive was for letting Sami be their third. Did they finally trust his intent to join the Bloodline, or were they going to leave him out to dry?

You tried not to fall into the bad habit of chewing your thumb, too nervous to function.

The fight started before the bell had even rung, your brothers and Sami being attacked at the top of the ramp. Officials managed to separate them, and drag them into the ring. Your nerves were slightly eased, they looked better off than Riddle and his teammates after that brawl.

The match continued like any other, Sami using his strategist brain to target his opponents’ weaknesses, Jey using his high flying abilities, Jimmy using that brutal super kick.

Then, exactly what you were afraid of.

Your brothers were taken out by Montez Ford, laid out on the floor. Sami nearly had his head knocked off by Riddle’s attacks. Your brothers jumped onto the apron, but were chased off by Riddle.

They began to walk back up the ramp, leaving Sami open to anything. Riddle hits him with a killer RKO and covers him. 

You knew what you needed to do. You ripped off your hoodie, dressed in brand new gear. You ran past other wrestlers, backstage personnel and through to the ramp. Sprinting as fast as you could to try and help your… whatever he was to you.

You tried to dodge your brothers, but they caught you by your arms, dragging you back with them.

“No, let me go! I have to see if he’s okay!” You could hear boos from the crowd as your brothers marched you back up the ramp. You continued to fight and struggle against them, hoping to kick them off. The officials helped Sami up and through the fogginess in his mind, he could hear you shouting.

He looked up the ramp and saw you. You looked… worried. For him? Surely not.

Then he heard you shout, “I need to see if he’s okay!”

So you were worried for him. 

He was never really sure when you approached him backstage whether you were genuine or not in your attentions. But this. This felt real.

You actually liked him, you actually cared for him. Well maybe it was time for Sami to return those feelings.

The fallout of that match was interesting. The Usos were being jeered for abandoning Sami and more surprisingly for “keeping the lovers apart”. While you certainly wouldn’t call yourselves lovers, you were noticing a distinct Romeo and Juliet vibe between you and Sami.

You couldn’t deny you were definitely beginning to really feel for Sami. He was working so hard to prove himself to your family, and all you needed him to know was that he had already done so tenfold. Your family was the problem. Not him.

It was hard to reach him. Like your brothers and your cousin knew what was going on and wanted to keep you separated. 

It meant that you couldn’t see him before your triple threat match against Ronda Rousey and Raquel Rodriguez.

It meant you couldn’t see him after your disappointing loss and subsequent leg injury. 

It meant you couldn’t even wish him luck for his interview with Kevin Owens.

You just had to watch from the medical office, ice wrapped tight around your knee. Sami and Kevin were incredibly sweet opening the show, reuniting after a long time being apart. They hugged tightly, bouncing around the ring. 

Things quickly took a turn when Kevin asked Sami to join him on Raw.

“Look, Kev, you know I always got your back.” Sami began.

Kevin looked a little confused, “Exactly, so let’s go.”

“Look, now’s just not a great time. I have a lot on my plate, I’m the Locker Room Leader. I have… people who need me.” The word people felt like a deliberate choice. Usually Sami would say the locker room needed him. But you allowed yourself to feel hopeful. Maybe the “people” who needed him included you.

The conversation derailed entirely from there, as Sami was belittled by a man he called a best friend. He was called naive and a moron by Kevin and everything continued to escalate.

Their voices kept rising and they were pushing and shoving at each other until you got scared they would start a brawl.

Kevin’s next words caught your attention. “You know what? This is easy. If you’re so tight with The Bloodline, why’d they leave you high and dry on Raw?”

Sami lifted the mic and tried to say that you didn’t leave him, but Kevin drowned him out. “Even better, let’s get them out here! Surely if you’re as close to them as you think you are, they won’t leave you high and dry again. So let’s do it. Ladies and gentlemen, The Bloodline!”

Sami turned back, hopeful someone would come. “Just give them a sec.”

Kevin gave him a rueful smile, “Oh no, maybe they just didn’t hear me. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE BLOODLINE!”

Your heart broke as you realised, not only had your family abandoned him but you couldn’t do anything about it either.

Kevin laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Listen I’m sorry man, but The Bloodline couldn’t care less about you. Not even your new girlfriend.”

Sami’s face dropped. “Whatever man. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You watched as Sami, near tears, walked back up the ramp. Kevin tried to stop him but was shoved back. Both men looked embarrassed and a little defeated. You hoped this wouldn’t be the end of their friendship.

Then it hit you. Kevin called you Sami’s ‘girlfriend’. Were you really that obvious? Yeah probably, but Sami didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting from everyone and you needed him to know he had someone in his corner.

There was a knock at the door and you nodded for the medic to let whoever it was in.

Sami Zayn.

Sami Zayn in all his wet cat glory.

“Hi, I, uh, heard from some of the girls you were still back here.” He gestured to your knee.

You smiled kindly, “Yeah, I’m cleared of any serious injury, but not cleared to fight for the next couple of weeks. Just in case I guess.”

He still seemed very down, so you waved him over to sit next to you. “I also heard what happened with Kevin, and I need you to know-”

“No no, you don’t have to say anything. He’s right about one thing though. I am putting a lot into this family and I feel like I’m not getting anything in return.”

You wrapped your arm around his shoulder. “It’s tough, I know, my family are a bunch of hard asses. But please at least know that I’m happy you’re here. And I’m proud of you.”

Slow claps emerged from the door and Jimmy and Jey entered the room. “That was one hell of a speech, lil sis.”

Sami stood up, interrupting what they were going to say next, “No, no, no, I need to know it from you two. What do you honestly think of me? What am I to you?”

Jimmy looked over Sami’s shoulder at you, you mouthed the word, “please”.

He looked to his twin who was staring Sami down viciously.

“What if I joined up with The Bloodline?” Jey scoffed. “No, I get it, you guys are blood. What if I was like, an honorary member?”

Jimmy stepped in before Jey could say anything, “Sure. Honorary Uce.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sami smiled, looked back at you with a thumbs up and patted your brothers on the shoulders. “This is a smart decision. And it’s the right decision. And please know if you ever need anything, I’m there. And if I ever need anything?”

Jimmy smiled wide, “You ain’t even gotta worry. I got you, Uce.”

Jey stormed out, but as Jimmy was leaving, he gave you a nod. You mouthed “thank you” and gave Sami a firm pat on the back. Honorary member of The Bloodline. Well how about that?

[sserpente]

A "Happy" New Year indeed 🥂🎇🍾🎆

Synopsis: Tony gifted you all a trip to the Bahamas to spend New Year's on the beach. Even Loki was invited but when no one else wants to spend time with him, you gather the courage to act on your secret crush on him until you end up sneaking away together...

A/N: Et voilà, just like that, I turned a couple older requests from @mandywholock1980, @frzntrx and anon (I’m so sorry for the delay) into a little treat for New Year’s Eve. “Slide well” into the new year tonight as we say in German! I’ll see you guys next year with lots of book news and of course, more Imagines! Thank you all for your love, for your comments, your kind words when you send me requests, for your likes and your reblogs and this year in particular, your patience! I appreciate you all so much and that’s almost 24k of you at this point! So crazy! To an amazing 2024!

Words: 2556 Warnings: smut, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2

Where is that damn bathing suit? You’d packed it, right? You knew you’d packed it. It was on top of your suitcase so you wouldn’t forget. With a sigh, you rummaged through the clothes you’d brought, creating an utter mess in the process.

Holidays with the Avengers. Hallelujah. No wonder you were so worked up. It certainly wasn’t every day you unwrapped a neatly folded plane ticket to the freaking Bahamas on Christmas morning, a “little” treat from Tony Stark who had flipped the ice-cold temperatures in New York City the bird and booked you all a trip to the other end of the world.

Seeing both Steve Rogers and Thor topless was a delectable sight—not to mention how absolutely gorgeous Natasha looked in her black bikini. You felt self-conscious about yourself, to say the least, but the hilarious part was that it wasn’t because of a bunch of shredded superheroes; it was because of a very mischievous prince who had the very essence of the multiverse coursing through his veins.

The kiss had been… incidental. Rules were rules and Tony had been very clear about all the damn mistletoes he’d hidden across the tower and it was Thor who had not let either of you leave until you fulfilled the silly tradition. Ironically, it had been Loki himself who’d caused all that attention around the mistletoe all those years ago. He only had to blame himself but heavens… he sure knew how to kiss.

And just like that… there you had it. After spending Christmas, or Yule, as he liked to call it, Loki had—unbeknownst to him—managed to make you fall for him. He, who just so happened to have become the most powerful being in the entire universe; or multiverse, in this case.

There it is. The black bathing suit you pulled from the pile of clothes, at last, was your favourite, complimenting your body shape in just the right places. You’d already caught yourself wondering on the plane what Loki would think when he saw you in it. After all, he was a god. He’d met a number of goddesses and princesses, not to mention a stunning female version of himself. How could you, a mere mortal woman, possibly impress him? Hell, you didn’t even have superpowers. Nothing that would grab his attention. Perhaps you should have brought the mistletoe and steal another kiss. Perhaps you could get him drunk so he wouldn’t remember your heartfelt confession if he didn’t reciprocate it. Or maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all and keep the cheeky God of Mischief an exciting fantasy in your head. You’d totally not named the green and gold vibrator you had bought as a Christmas present for yourself after him… you would never do that…

Despite the fact that the Avengers were slowly—really slowly—warming up to the idea of him being around, Loki was alone when you joined the others at the beach. He’d conjured a green blanket with a gold rim to sit on in the blazing sun, his dark green trunks leaving nothing to fantasy. Although he wasn’t nearly as shredded as Thor was, godly strength aside, you were certain he could haul you into the air and one-handedly fling you across the ocean if he wanted to. Or maybe do push-ups while you were sitting on him…

“Hey.” You sat down next to him without waiting for an invitation, your gaze flicking over to the gang playing volleyball in the sand. “I don’t understand…”

“They hit the ball with their bare hands and fling it across the net. If it lands on the ground on the opposite end of the field, their team scores,” Loki said matter-of-factly.

You chuckled. “Not the game. Why are you not playing?”

“Please. This is hardly the most enjoyable place for a Frost Giant,” he replied. His voice was just as icy as the tale he was telling.

“I see… I’m sure no one would mind if you returned to the hotel until it’s dark. It’s gonna be a long time until midnight still.”

Loki scoffed. “Of course, they wouldn’t mind. In fact, they are likely hoping for it.”

“Well, maybe you can tell Thor—“

“Thor is making things worse. My brother has always had quite the talent for ignoring me when he’s with his friends. I am not going anywhere.” You could practically hear the unspoken words: I’ll stay out of spite and sulk.

“Okay then. But maybe you should wear sunscreen. The sun’s pretty aggressive in these parts of Earth.”

“I am a god. I don’t get sunburned.” Indignity swung in his smooth voice as he lifted his chin in defiance.

“Are you sure? At least sit in the shade then. If you’re uncomfortable, I’m sure we can find you some ice.”

“No”, Loki spat, earning him a frown.

“Hey, what’s with the attitude, Trickster?”

“This is ridiculous. I have a multiverse to look out for and Stark had nothing better to do than reduce me to… to…”

“…someone he’d trust enough to bring on holiday with him?” you offered.

Loki glared at you.

“You still feel like you don’t belong?”

Another glare.

“I don’t. Not with them. The only reason I am here is because of Thor who has conveniently forgotten I am even here.”

Your glance found his pale back as he spoke. Loki sighed.

“Would you feel better if I put this… sunscreen on?”

“I would, actually. You don’t wanna start the New Year as red as a crab. You should be blue,” you said, chuckling at your own joke.

“My true form might scare away the other hotel guests.”

“O-oh. No, I meant… blue as in drunk. Wait, so your Frost Giant form is… you have blue skin?”

Loki nodded. “And red eyes.”

“Damn… can you willingly control that? How you look?” You grabbed the sunscreen bottle from your beach bag and squirted a small amount in your palm. It caught fire the very moment it connected with Loki’s bare skin. Heavens… had he just… flinched?

“Odin put an enchantment on me when I was an infant. I could turn if I wished but it mainly triggers if I touch Jötun artefacts.” He didn’t seem all too delighted by the idea.

“I see.”

Quickly, to not get carried away by your fantasies, you rubbed the sunscreen on his back and shoulders and then offered him some more for his face which of course, he declined.

“Well… It’s gonna be a long evening. As soon as Tony brings out the schnapps, you can forget about reasonable conversations.”

Loki smirked. “Thor brought Asgardian ale. They will be unreasonable long before that.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

You shuffled a little closer, careful not to sit in an awkward position and look at least a little sexy. “Do you plan on getting drunk?”

“It’s the beginning of a new year. Hardly a reason to celebrate.”

“Hmm… probably not if you turn thousands of years old. Still, living the life we do, we should be grateful for every year we’re still alive.”

Loki scoffed. It was easy for you to say, of course. You didn’t carry the entire multiverse on your back.

“I’m going for a swim. It’s getting a little too warm for my taste,” he announced.

You nodded, watching how Loki stood, strolled across the beach, and all but jumped into the ocean. You had to close your mouth to make sure you didn’t start drooling over him. Unfortunately for you, Tony sauntered over the very moment you picked up your jaw from the floor.

“You have a thing going on, don’t you?” the billionaire said. It wasn’t a question. In fact, you were quite certain he didn’t even expect a response.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve had dozens of women look at me like that. You want my advice? Stay away from him. Loki is trouble. I don’t care if he’s the harbinger of the multiverse now.”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I can take care of myself,” you replied with a flat voice. “You could ask him to join you guys, you know. He was sitting here like a pile of misery.”

“He is a pile of misery. And how is this my fault? He could have asked to join too.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” you shot back. Checkmate. Tony sighed, shook his head and, after taking a huge gulp from his water bottle, returned to the volleyball field.

Alright then… if they were not going to celebrate New Year’s with Loki, then you would. You didn’t like beach volleyball anyway.

Loki had been right about the Asgardian ale. You’d been curious to try it and mesmerised by the taste. By dusk and only one small cup later, you were drunk. Well, sort of. You were present enough to form functioning sentences and sensible thoughts but you would be lying if you claimed that Loki hadn’t noticed your predicament.

Torches, driven into the sand, illuminated your unconventional party location, throwing dancing shadows on the ground and the palm trees around you. Music was blaring out from the speakers behind the bar where an employee, bless his soul, was preparing one alcoholic drink after the next. At some point, you had grabbed Loki’s hand and dragged him away from the centre of attention, somewhere you could talk in peace. You had so many questions—about him, about his thoughts, about his life. And the more questions you asked, the more you realised that apart from Mobius, perhaps, no one had ever taken such interest in him—over Thor, anyways.

You must have been talking for hours at this point.

“Loki? Can I ask you something… personal?”

“Twelve minus twenty-five!” Tony yelled. Right. Twenty-five minutes until the New Year.

The God of Mischief quirked an eyebrow. You took that as a yes and to be fair, he looked adorable holding a cocktail glass with a little paper parasol in his left hand.

“You’re a prince… and you’re a literal century older than me. You must have… lots of experience?”

“Experience with…”

“You know… intimacy. You, um…” You took a sip of your own cocktail. It was a Long Island Ice Tea, one of those you knew got you drunk even quicker than you intended. But you needed the liquid courage. It was the last day of the year, you might as well be daring. “You’re a really good kisser is what I’m trying to say.”

“Ah…” he teased. “You’re still thinking about our kiss, dear?”

“It’s hard not to. You wanna know the truth? I have the biggest crush on you. Not sure what’s stopping me from ripping your clothes off your body right now. Probably the fact that we’re not alone.”

Loki smirked. Then, with a start, he stood up and put both your and his cocktail glass on the little coffee table next to you both. Your heart skipped a beat when he offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“W-where?”

“Somewhere we are… alone.”

Your eyes widened. The way he purred the words you were all but putty in his hands when you allowed him to pull you with him, back into his hotel room. They were big, massive suites all on the ground floor, actual cottages with straw roofs, a minibar, and king-size beds.

“It’s almost midnight. Whatever your plan is, we should probably—“ You didn’t get any further. As soon as the door fell shut and the room was drowned in darkness, Loki’s lips were on yours, his hands exploring your body and tugging on what little clothing you were wearing in this warm climate.

They were gone before you could blink, your legs wrapped around his middle, his hands on your butt, carrying you to bed. A moan escaped your lips when he broke his passionate kiss to get rid of his own clothes. He was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt, one that’d already had you drooling all over him, combined with another pair of dark green trunks.

You were about to comment how hot you thought he was when he kissed you again. You moaned again, felt his hard length pressing against your inner thigh. Instinctively, you spread your legs further, inviting him in. Still, he took his time.

One of his hands cupped your face, the other disappeared down to where you were already throbbing for him. Loki found you wet and eager, your back arching when he began to pamper your clit with gentle pressure, massaging the sensitive little nub until you went absolutely feral for him.

He was proving it, you realised. Proving a point. Answering your question. Yes, he had experience. And he was about to show you just how he could make his partners feel in bed. Fuck…

You whined when he pulled away but before you could complain, he pulled your legs apart even further and sank his length into you. He slid in meeting no resistance, filling you to the brim. For a moment, you both froze.

“You… feel like you’ve been made for me…” you heard him growl against your ear.

“Loki…” It was all you were able to respond when he began to fuck you, stroke after stroke after stroke. He was right. It felt so good you feared you’d pass out and miss out on the fun and you realised soon enough that you didn’t need his hands to give you bliss.

Loki buried himself even deeper inside of you, his forehead resting against yours; grinding so closely against you he created friction where you needed him the most. Slow and deep thrusts made you throw your head back. And then, all of a sudden, you could hear everyone outside count down from ten.

You came the very moment you heard the Avengers’ scream “Happy New Year”, followed by fireworks illuminating the night sky. Flickering, colourful lights fell through the gap of Loki’s curtains, reflecting the firework inside of you.

Pulsing around him, he kept pounding into you until he too reached his peak, his face buried in your neck.

The fireworks were still going by the time you were able to grasp a proper thought again, a whimper escaping your lips as you relished the feeling of Loki jerking against your walls and filling you with his seed.

“Happy New Year, Loki.”

“Happy New Year, dear.”

The God of Mischief smiled—it was quite possibly the most genuine expression you had ever seen on him. He pulled out and you rolled over so you came to lie on top of him. He was even more comfortable than the king-size bed. But when you tried to sit up and climb out of bed, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you captive.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’ve only just started.”

“Oh f-fuck… that sounds tempting but we should… probably wish everyone a happy New Year?” Loki quirked an eyebrow yet again. “Or maybe not…”

He smirked and allowed you both to sit up. With a simple snap of his fingers, he produced two glasses of champagne and handed you one. “Perhaps… I will start celebrating New Year’s after all.”

You grinned as you clinked your glasses. “But only if we do it exactly how we just did it.”

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! ♥

[maybeiwasjustjade]

Things I wished SJM had done instead regarding the Night Court post-ACOFAS (which has been exactly 1 book, but we all know she won’t be heading in this direction anyway):

1. Have ACOSF be about Nesta, and Nesta alone.

Make it about her healing journey + the formation of the Valkyries, instead of being a book about Stockholm Syndrome and essentially beating a woman into submission

If the Dread Trove needed to be in the book, let it be a byproduct of Nesta’s journey in exploring her magic. She can’t heal if she’s still terrified of its existence, and the Dread Trove primarily calls to her.

2. Have Nesta learn healing magic

Make and Unmake; Life and Death. Two sides of the same coin. If Nesta is Lady Death, why can’t she also be the Mistress of Life?

Feyre’s pregnancy: having Nesta learn healing magic ties in to Feyre’s pregnancy problems. It gives her a goal and a reason to explore the many facets of her abilities that isn’t just its manifestation as silver flames (that she eventually lost anyway)

Which brings us to issue number 3

3. A Court of Silver Flames should’ve been about, you guessed it, the silver flames

Why was Nesta forced to become a warrior instead of being taught to hone her magic? Amren couldn’t do it, but that doesn’t mean she was the only option. SJM literally had every means necessary to circumvent the story to find a way to make Nesta learn proper magic. It’s not like the physical training was consensual; they should’ve given her another option.

Eris: the random throwaway plot involving Eris just to make it about Cassian’s many many insecurities. Let’s be fucking for real right now. It should’ve been about Nesta—especially if they were going the route of what Nesta wants vs how she was raised. And lemme tell ya something really funny: Cassian’s hardly any different than Eris, status-wise.

Eris vs Cassian: SJM should’ve had both of them train her. Cassian can remain as her yoga instructor for nonconsensual boot camp, but have Eris teach her fire magic. At least then the whole Neris plot/proposal has an actual point, and it’ll give Nesta some reprieve from her forced proximity to Cassian. Eris is also fortunately in a position to understand her quite well.

4. Nyx should’ve been a daughter and not a son

Oh that would fuck with them alright. Have Feyre and Rhysand conceive a son because of the vision….only for the child to not only have wings (that were conveniently missing, how strange) but also be a girl. So not only is the child more Illyrian than High Fae, she also can’t inherit the magic

And even if she could, do we honestly think Feysand would know how to raise a daughter to be the heir? Feyre doesn’t even know how to rule or do taxes or make policies 😂. Chances are, Nyx would grow up to be another Mor—who does nothing involving her job and just runs around having fun like a stereotypical rich daddy’s girl.

Which, sorry to say, means that more than likely Feysand will want to try for another child soon. Remember, these are the same idiots who willingly conceived a child knowing that they made a death pact. They are in fact, reckless and selfish enough to do this.

And finally, in preparation for the clusterfuck that will be book 6:

5. Nyx having wings and no magic

My favorite theory truly, is having the child that Feyre and Rhysand nearly died for due to their own stupidity, be absolutely powerless and incapable of inheriting the HL magic. Genetics is funky for a reason; Nyx can be born primarily Illyrian and it still would be possible. We don’t know what having Night Court magic does to Feyre’s genes after all or if shapeshifting also fucks with DNA (like it does in Animorph).

Having an Illyrian heir would be absolutely hilarious because it would be a complete mindfuck for the IC aka the people who absolutely look down on and LOATHE the Illyrians. Despite you know, having three of them in the group. And Illyrian Nyx means they have no choice but to confront the issue that is Illyria. Feysand would never let their precious son go through the training or the Blood Rite or the poverty. Nevermind that they couldn’t care less when it’s someone else’s sons and daughters, but I digress. Either they fix it, or they ignore it and watch as it bites them in the ass in about 20 years

[fandomtrash-whataboutit]

Gonna draft this as I go through The Golden Raven today as I don’t want to make twenty million posts

Major the Golden Raven Spoilers ahead (obviously)

He’s dead!! Thank the lord, he’s dead

Jean is a Trojannnnnn i love seeing the babes take care of him

I want to know what ‘incident’ made Jeremy’s siblings resent him so much. Obviously they’re all just unrepentant narcissists, but like holy fuck

Every time Jean’s thoughts stray even slightly toward Neil, you know something hilarious is about to happen

Someone finally said it ,there is no more perfect court!!

‘You’re Jean Moreau. Perfect freaking court. What do you mean it’s not fun?’

You can’t just drop this shit in Nora i dont need reminders that Jean thinks Jeremy is super hot (i love every second of it)

Im sorry the confirmation that moriyama BEAT a freshman to DEATH holy fuckkkk

But also please give Jean a baby. He needs a baby. If you wont give me vice-captain Neil then give me this

Derek and Derrick my beloveds

“Sometimes they brought us fruit” i need to hunt down every adult involved in the Ravens for sport

Oh i didn’t even THINK of Jean saying Jeremy’s voice all French-like (‘I bet he hit his knees the first time you said it’ oh my goddddd Cody)

Jean Moreau bisexual icon??? WE WIN THESE

Oh god please tell me Jeremy wasn’t a witness to his brother’s death or something i couldn’t bear that being the reason

“Jean looked baffled as Xavier tried to explain top surgery to him”

AARON MINYARD IS CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES

ANDREWWWWWWWWWW

Kevin knows exactly what Neil did and he’s SO tired (also ‘the freshman have united against him’ is AMAZING)

Jean & Cat hug just put me in the grounddddddd

Nooooo tell me Jeremy’s brother didn’t KILL himself and now his family BLAMES him for not fucking stoping him AHHHHHJ

Oh god oh shit i just Jeremy’s backstory AUGHHH

And jean’s reaction after whatever the guy’s name was and Jeremy im screaming crying throwing up and not in a good way

Don’t tell me its always been Jeremy! Do NOT tell me that Jean’s been enamored with him from the start and it’s just one more thing Riki punished him for!! I wouldn’t be able to take it if you told me that!! NO WAIT ITS KEVIN DONT GIVE ME KEVJEAN AnGST PLEASEEEEE

But Jean realizing with startling clarity why the Trojans play the way they do might heal me. Just pls let it be enough to heal him

JEAN IS PLAYING LIKE A TROJAN

(|_> HAVE A WINNING DAY BITCH)

RHEMANN FOR THE WINNNNNN HE FUCKING DECKED ZANE BEFORE HE COULD EVEN SAY IT HOLY SHIT THIS IS AMAZING

HE FINALY BROKE DOWN!! I’m heartbroken for sure but this is always what’s needed, he needed to break. I underestimated Rhemann’s importance here it’s nice to see a consistent adult presence in Jean’s life be positive for the first time ever

Oh Jean needs to be a farmer

“Better to be reckless fools than Ravens” YEEEEESSSSSSS

“I Deserve to get better” YES YES YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSS HOLY SIHT LETS GOOOOOOO

confidence and security look so good on Neil by the way. Im so damn happy for him.

Okay Nora knows her audience she out here giving us MULTIPLE ‘the master’ reveals (it means jean is closer with his teammmm)

Ohhhhhh Foxes and Ravens brawl I LOVE to see andreil backing each other up. And ofc Dan Wilds, the woman herself, attempting murder. As she should.

Jean thinks of himself as a broken monster but to Jeremy he is nothing but a kind heart. That’s it. Someone end me.

Jean now being offended at how empty the lofts feel…

JAB MOREAU

THE RULES HAVEE CHANGED

I’m coming down from an insane high because I;m lucky that my strongest hyper fixation in years hit me a week before a new book came out and now i can’t process that it’s over and it’ll prolly be 1-2 years before the next book but regardless… @korakos thank you for everything, these books and Neil and Jean and all the foxes and Trojans mean so much to me

(I’ll be posting way more tomorrow but im liegit tweaking out right now so no coherent thoughts for you)

[rwrbficrecs]

Thanks for all the love on the recent Readers' Choice list ✨ The May faves are a little late but hope you all enjoy these recs 💕

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Think of the fluffiest bedsharing fic you've ever read and combine it with a college roommates AU, and you have this fic! I can't stress enough just how soft this fic is, this is the perfect fic for if you need a quick pick-me-up!

running through my mind all day by allthelovesaved (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry rarely, if ever, jogs. It's not something that interests him. That is until he stumbles upon Alex's TikTok profile (thanks, Pez!!). Alex, a passionate runner, shares his knowledge in a captivating way. Coincidentally, he's also the brother of Henry's colleague June, who convinces him to join their "group running thing"... This sweet, sweet story is fluffy and funny, very soft and a little silly (says the author), and it just made me very, very happy.

Wit and Wisdom by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: A window into the future of "Little Matters" my absolute favorite story. Im so in love with this family and happy to see the woman Cat has become and how much of Alex she carries with her. I cried and laughed and EJ left me wanting more of them as usual. If you haven't read Little Matters yet, what are you doing with your life?? Haha

hymns down your sides by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: One of my favourite authors delivers yet again! Henry, a refined boyband veteran in his mid-30s, meets wild, lately kind of self-destructive boyband star Alex. Henry can't probably save him, but maybe he can give him a push in the right direction? This story put me through the emotional wringer. So many feelings, so much hurt, and the chemistry - absolutely gripping!

the poem you make of me by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The riches found within this fic know no bounds! It's a writer Henry AU that maintains a lot of the same themes as the book (which it coveys just as well), but it adds another layer of heart with the fact that in this verse, Henry is not just a writer, but a poet.

Savasana by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Lawyer Alex has hit a low point in his career. The situation is absolutely not pretty, and understandably, Alex is skeptical about whether yoga can fix it, as June suggests. Can yoga instructor Henry straighten things out for Alex? - Alex pulls one Alex after another - it gave me whiplash in the best possible way! The story is very touching and sweet, also absolutely hilarious at the same time !! So fun to read !!

Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is an AU of a book I loved in middle school, so not only did it give me so much nostalgia, but it has all the quirkiness of RWRB too! Alex in this is so mischievous and sweet, and I love it!

A Wretched Beginning by @royalasstronaut (book-verse)

@dot524: This was a fun romp — forbidden relationship, college/academic AU, tension and angst, and loads of longing. Henry is Alex’s TA and um… things happen. Oh, and they may also be connected in other mysterious ways.

Pleasant Melody by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Love at first sight that feels magical in otherworldly way is one of my favourite kinds of love stories. And this fic is a spectacular example! Henry is a pirate, Alex is a very special siren, they shouldn't make sense but they do. The longing is excellent and I would gladly read ten more fics based on the same concept.

Meant to Be Yours by @affectionatelyrs & @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Definitely one of the most unhinged fics I've read in this fandom. (Warning: proceed with caution!) Alex loves Henry, Henry doesn't know Alex exists. Alex's dream is of course to meet Henry and his attempts to do so are... worrying. Second-hand embarrassment hits hard, highly recommend!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️