#all in due course lads all in due course

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Sdgdjjks hats off to both Jude & Cardan their self control if they get through the entire shower scene in fine line without kissing 😂🥴

most smut readers: Fine Line readers:

[the-busy-ghost]

Idk why every time I have a project that involves using the Register of the Great Seal for something even slightly more complex than looking up a single isolated charter, I always have a lovely plan where I think it will only take me a couple of hours to go in, check the index, and take the numbers I need down. And then I end up having to skimread the whole damn volume.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: surprise! Something to tide you guys over until the heart-wrencher that is part five!! Y'know, gotta have some laughs before everything blows up 💣 or something like that :)

previous chapter ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

What happens when your castmates decide to have a drinking game based on yours and Ewan's interviews? Chaos. Absolute chaos.

"Is it just me or does my head look abnormally large in this?" comes Tom's query as they sit on the floor around the low table in Phia's living room.

Phia, Tom, and Olivia are snug on the carpet, legs strewn in varying postions, their attention on the laptop on the table.

"No, just you, mate," Phia responds.

"Nah, look at 'im," Olivia counters, "Looking like a right old egghead."

"I knew it," Tom clicks his tongue, smiling at the jab.

The friends were just having a nice time catching up in Phia's apartment, and after several coffees and rolled cigarettes, they found themselves nestled on the floor, beers in hand.

Someone made a suggestion to check up on the interviews being released as part of the media rollout. And so they watched the cast's interviews, already having done with the one from Wired, MTV, and the Buzzfeed Puppy Interview.

"I loved those pups," Olivia remarked jokingly. "But they didn't love me back. Story of my life."

"Oh, I love you, Liv!" Phia had exclaimed, pulling her friend in for a hug.

"Aaanyway," Phia says, reaching forward and scrolling through the suggested videos, "how about this one next! I miss those two." She clicks on an interview you and Ewan had done together, in that long press day where you guys were paired by the media team.

"They look adorable, don't they?" Tom says. "Here's to hoping the lad's finally made a bloody move."

"What about the goss on that girl you all were with? The one at the pub?" Olivia curiously asks, not kept in the loop due to her holiday abroad.

"All bull. You know how the tabloids are. She was sweet and everything but Ewan was practically side-eyeing her all the way into oblivion when she kept clinging on his arm. Poor girl." Tom smirks, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"Awww, look! Ewan's looking at her all gooey-eyed. Even then!" Phia simpers, leaning against Olivia.

"Of course, I was extremely excited and nervous to join the cast for season two," you can be heard saying, "being a huge fan of the book and the first season... I mean, it was such a tall order for me to step into this world but you know - "

"She did it so flawlessly," Ewan says to the interviewer. "We were so lucky to have her join the show."

"Oh, come on," you can't help but blush and shake your head. "Everyone was so welcoming, really."

"Well, it's safe to say that the audience loves your character!" the interviewer says kindly.

"Thank you so much, I'm glad to hear that," you beam in return.

"What a character, indeed," Ewan says, looking at you again.

Tom giggles, swinging his beer, "The look on his face, oh my days! Ewan is whi-ipped, I'm telling you. Just look at those stars in his eyes, you'd think she's an angel or somethin."

"She is an angel," Phia muses.

"Lovely girl," Olivia agrees.

"Oh!" Tom sits upright suddenly, leaning forward on his knees, "How about this? They've got a couple interviews up, right? Drinking game then, shall we? A shot each time Ewan looks at her or pays her a compliment!"

Olivia laughs nervously, but she's more than game to participate. "A swig of beer or... "

"Nah!" Tom scrunches his face in response. "Say, Phi, have you got vodka or tequila or whatever?"

"I... think I've got some leftover tequila," she ponders. "Are you proposing a shot of tequila every time Ewan fawns over her? Isn't that a bit dangerous? Should we stick to beer?"

"It'll be fun," Tom reassures, already getting on his feet to fetch the bottle from the kitchen. "Ewan's a professional," he says, when he returns with tequila and three shot glasses. "Surely he maintained his focus during all of that. Can't be more than - what, three or four shots each?"

Oh, how wrong he is.

It only takes another interview for them to realise that they might have been overzealous in taking on the challenge.

Most Likely To with the cast of House of the Dragon, the screen displays. You and Ewan pop up in intervals, and they eagerly await your clips with shots in hand.

"Most likely to be late on set?" you say, raising your hands when you answer with, "I'm happy to say that it was not me."

"No?" Ewan asks.

"Nope, early each day," you smile at him.

"I believe you, I mean, I wish we actually had scenes together," Ewan says, smiling right back, eyes lingering on you when you add something more to your answer.

"Shot!" Tom exclaims. The trio's faces crunch up when the burning liquid slides down their throats.

"Fuck's sake," Olivia mutters. "Ewan better keep his googly eyes to himself."

"Don't get your hopes up," Phia says, knowing the both of you well.

"Most likely to accidentally date a serial killer? What the hell is this question?" Ewan snorts, eyebrows shooting up.

"Are we even in the right show for this?" you joke, and Ewan laughs harder, his hand finding your forearm and squeezing briefly.

"Shot, I suppose," Phia mumbles. "I mean, look at his face, the sweetheart."

Another round, and everyone feels warmer and more lightheaded.

"Wouldn't be me, I don't know about you?" you ask Ewan.

"Oh, I wouldn't. I don't think Aemond would either, he would see right through that."

"Next, most likely to show up in a stunning outfit," you read from the prompts off-camera.

"Hmm," Ewan muses, "I would say maybe Liv Cooke... she's had really good outfits on the carpet lately..."

"I agree," you nod enthusiastically. "Liv's killing it."

"And you, definitely," Ewan turns to you again. "I mean, stunning would be an understatement."

"Shot!" Olivia half-yells. "And bless her, look! She's turned all red from Ewan's flirting."

"Thanks, mate," you say, tilting your head at him. "You as well! Your stylists have outdone themselves this press tour, for sure."

"Half a shot cause she gives something his way?" Tom suggests, comically shrugging. By the end of the video, the group had done three and a half rounds of shots, all growing redder in the face, their laughter turning unhinged.

"I'm actually scared to do another interview," Olivia groans. "Can those two just shag each other already? Goodness!"

"Who knows? Maybe they have? Would be about time," Tom cheekily says, ever the agent of chaos.

"Ewan did fly out to see her," Phia nods. "They're both in America right now, my darlings."

"Another interview!" Tom gets to clicking, landing on the one you and Ewan did with Rotten Tomatoes.

"We ask everyone this question - can you tell me your favourite movie from this year?" is what the interviewer starts with.

"That's a good question," Ewan says. "Uhhmm, well, it isn't from this year I think but her film - " he gestures to you, " - is one of my all-time favourites. I think it came out late last year, if I'm not mistaken?" He looks to you for confirmation, and your flustered self manages to hum a response. "I just think the whole film was brilliant. It definitely showcases her talents and solidifies her as one to watch."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Tom sighs, and they all bring the shot glasses back to their lips.

"Guys, I might pass out by the end of this." Olivia stands to fetch herself a glass of water. "Ewan's a menace!" she calls out from the kitchen.

"We shouldn't have done this," Tom shakes his head.

"You suggested it!" Phia punches his arm, laughing.

"I guess I underestimated the degree of whipped that Ewan is. That cheeky lad."

Four more rounds of shots later, and the group has their tally up to eight and a half.

Yet another interview plays on the screen, and when Ewan - with all his bloody audacity - pushes a lock of hair away from your face on camera, Tom's eyes nearly bulge right out of his head.

"Oh my god!" he cries out. "He's trying to kill us! I think I'm actually going to puke."

"I quit." Olivia slumps against the base of the velvet couch. "I can't drink any more. Ewan wins."

Phia giggles at the screen, at the sight of her two dear friends slowly but surely falling in love right before the audience's eyes. In some show of celebration, she takes another shot, the last player left in the game.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Meanwhile across the Atlantic...

"Hey, darling," you hear Ewan's voice on the other line. "I just settled in my hotel in New York."

"That's good! Did your flight go well?"

"Mhmm, my meeting's tomorrow afternoon so I've got time to prepare," he takes a breath, before softly saying, "I miss you."

You laugh, "So you keep telling me, Mitchell."

"We're still on that huh, darling? Shouldn't you be calling me something more... personal, by now?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Well... the internet does call you their babygirl."

"Oh come on," he complains, smiling nevertheless.

"What is it, babygirl?"

"That's how you want to play it, bunny?"

"Ewan!" you groan. "Okay, okay."

"Anyway, darling," he says. "I really do miss you. I can't wait to see you again.'

The longing is clear in his voice and it tugs at your heart so much that you need to pause and collect yourself, before finally saying, "I miss you too, baby."

Cheers to all of yous who voted here! Baby it is ~

In the meantime...

Update! ~ part five

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

[vivwritesfics]

Pastry

Boyf Oscar moments

1.3K

I need moots

"Oscar Pastry!" She sang as she skipped towards the McLaren garage.

The Australian in question glared at her, but it was a good thing his glare made him look like an angry puppy.

"That's not my name," he said as she came closer.

Y/N thought for a minute. "No, no. I think it is," she answered and looked around the garage for his teammate. "Lando! This is Oscar Pastry, right?"

"Definitely Oscar Pastry!" Lando shouted back.

"That's settles it then, Oscar Pastry."

Oscar may have been glaring, but he skill kissed her. "Wish me luck today," he said, placing his hands on her hips while Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good luck, Pastry," she whispered and placed her head against his chest.

Oscar kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms more securely around her.

Pastry, because that was what Y/N thought his name was when they'd first met. She'd soon learnt it was Piastri, but by then it was too late and the name had stuck. Even before they were dating, she still called him Oscar Pastry.

It was his name in her phone when they were innocently flirting over text. When the flirting was no longer innocent, his name was still Oscar Pastry.

When Oscar had asked Y/N to be his, she'd answered with "Of course, Oscar Pastry."

Now, a year on from that everything was different. Oscar was no longer in F2 and a lot more of his life was in the limelight. But he was still Y/Ns Oscar Pastry.

***

2023 was Oscars rookie season. But he was amazing. Y/N always came away from each race filled with pride. Oscar could have DNFed or finished each race last and she still would have been filled with pride.

"Pastry!" Y/N shouted as he got out of the car. He wasted no time in taking her into his arms and spinning her around. His helmet was still on his head, so Y/N had no choice but to kiss it, to kiss where his mouth should have been.

He let her go, pulled off his helmet and gave her a real kiss. One that had the lads in the McLaren garage clapping their hands and turning away to give them a little bit of privacy.

After that Oscar was off to do what he needed to do after the race. Y/N waited for him in his driver's room. She played on her phone, scrolling through social media to see pictures of the race already up on her Instagram.

The Oscar fans were her favourite. There were some familiar faces on her feed, fans that had been there since his F2 days and had moved up into F1 with them.

There were several pictures of Oscars McLaren driving around the track. There were quick videos of him overtaking other drivers and pictures of his jumping out of his car.

And then Y/N got to the F1 news sites. Ever since Oscars F1 debut, the news sites run by the male F1 fans had been overly critical of her specifically. So, Y/N tended to avoid them. She stuck to the accounts that loved her and Oscar together, the accounts that didn't tear her down just because she was with Oscar.

The wag accounts had posted updates from the race, the most recent of which being the picture of her kissing Oscars helmet. And then it was the pictures of her actually kissing Oscar. Him all sweaty and disheveled from the race, her radiating pure joy.

***

Y/N couldn't go to every race. As much as she tried, she couldn't make it to every single one. She had work and school to attend.

So, when she couldn't make it to a race, Oscar was very understanding. They called and texted as much as they possibly could. Even if she had to watch the race through her tv screen, she still watched the race.

Studying and working was a tiring business. Sunday evening, after the race, Y/N was exhausted. With preparing to write her thesis, she only managed to half watch the race. It was mainly her listening out for Oscars name and number as she typed away at her laptop.

Oscar was due home that night. To the some they shared.

Y/N tried her very best to stay awake as she waited for him, she really did. Maybe her first mistake was climbing into bed. Maybe her first mistake was getting under the blankets and letting the warmth cocoon her.

The same thing probably would have happened if she had stayed sitting on the couch. At least in her bed she was comfortable and unlikely to hurt her back like she would on the couch.

When Oscar got in, the lights and the television were still on. It was kind of worrying, actually, seeing all the lights on and no sign of his girlfriend. "Y/N?" He called, looking around into their kitchen. "Y/N?"

Oscar went around, checking every single room. And then he got to their bedroom.

Slowly, Oscar pushed open the door. It didn't stop the door from squeaking as he opened it. He put his head around the door and looked in.

There she was, sleeping peacefully in their bed. In way of pyjamas she had on an orange McLaren hoodie.

Oscar tried his best to be quiet. He tried to move around the room silently, tried to be light-footed, but he wasn't doing a very good job. Every time the floorboards creaked under his feet, he turned back to his girlfriend, to make sure she was still asleep.

As Oscar got dressed, Y/N stirred. She rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering open. "Pastry?" She called, her voice croaking.

Suddenly she was sat up, rolling out of bed and stumbling towards him. "Oh my god, Pastry. You're back," she said and wrapped her arms around him.

Oscar had to hold her steady as they hugged. "I missed you too, baby," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. He walked her back over to the bed and sat her down.

"Love you, Oscar Pastry," she whispered and promptly went back to sleep, wrapped in his embrace.

***

"This is paradise," said Y/N as she stretched out on her sun lounger. The sun was shining, palm trees providing the only shade for miles.

The pool in front of her was crystal clear. In said pool was her boyfriend, swimming from one side to the other with an inflatable dolphin. Y/N watched him through her sunglasses, a McLaren hat on her head.

Summer break was something Y/N took very seriously. Her studies were finally done and Oscar was finally on summer break from the season.

Of course, Oscar had to take his girl on holiday. They flew to the Caribbean, to a private villa they'd rented for the next week and a half. From there it was sun, sand, blue skies and crystal clear water.

Getting out of the pool, Oscar threw himself down onto the sunbed beside Y/N. "Happy?" He asked, reaching out and placing his hand on her knee.

His fingers were cold, but it was welcome under the Caribbean sun. Y/N placed her hand on top of his and nodded her head. "This is amazing, Oscar Pastry," she said, turning towards him.

Oscar had this way of smiling. It made Y/N's heart beat fast and the blood rush to her cheeks. "I love you," she said, reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. "My Oscar Pastry."

"Your Oscar Pastry."

The trip was commemorated with a post on Y/N's Instagram.

y/nusername:

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiatri and 238,557 others

ynusername Oscar 🥐

[yandere-romanticaa]

I feel like I'm 15 again. Todoroki was my first BNHA love, it's only fair that he gets a little something.

Shoto, who has had his eye on you ever since his UA days. He was enrolled in the hero course while you were in the general course, leading a completely separate life from his own. You had your own interests, hobbies, friends.

It was so beautiful to admire, from a safe distance of course.

Shoto was aware of his popularity amongst the student body due to his powerful quirk and impeccable grades. Whenever he would walk down the hall to class the murmurs of hundreds of students would follow, their beady and curious eyes either glaring daggers of envy or were in absolute awe of him.

Either way, he did not care, not for any single one of them. He was never too keen to call the people around him "extras" in the same way Bakugo did but whenever he would catch sight of you in the hall, every single possible distraction really did become a hassle. His cool mask was always under the dangerous threat of melting at the mere sight of you, it would even triple if you talked to, or if God was feeling merciful, accidentally touch him. His mask of indifference would slip for a brief second, dual eyes widening in shock as he would get a whiff of your perfume and would curse the fact that there were so many people around.

If he could die with his nose buried in your neck, it would be the sweetest way to go.

Shoto would become paranoid of the thought of being discovered. Sometimes, just sometimes when he was feeling just a little bit bolder than usual, he would press himself just ever so closer to you in the cramped hall and would take in every nook and cranny he possibly could. The average student would think nothing of this as he was probably just in a rush to get to class. He would also always apologize politely, Shoto would even try giving you a sweet smile while doing so.

However. The people who knew Shoto were not your average students.

Bakugo was not known for his subtlety and that legacy still lives on. On a Friday evening when the last bell had rung and the classroom was empty, the hotheaded lad trapped Shoto in a corner.

"Just say how you feel dumbass." Bakugo had said, his gruff tone slightly quieter than usual.

At least he had enough grace to not be a complete jackass.

With his eyes closed and lips pressed in a thin line Shoto had shook his head in defiance. Bakugo made the entire situation sound so easy, as if Shoto could just walk up to you and ask to hang out. You were a kind person and would most likely say yes, but Shoto was not so sure if you could handle the sheer intensity of his feelings. This, whatever this was, was all consuming, it left Shoto feeling breathless and restless, for who knows how long. You made him lose focus but you also made him so much stronger at the same time. He would space out in class a bit too often for comfort, which lead to Aizawa scolding him until the tips of his ears turned red.

This was so much more than a simple crush.

Bakugo shrugged his shoulders and exited the classroom. "Whatever you say icy hot. Just don't start crying if things don't go down the way you want them to."

Time passes, you all graduate. Shoto still pines helplessly from a distance but he has gotten just a little bit closer to you. Sometimes you meet up and hang out, he could always feel the tips of his fingers twitching in anticipation, eager to hold you but he kept his distance.

He didn't want to scare you off.

Even more time has passed and Shoto is a professional hero now. He is an honest worker and has built up a strong reputation. Everyone wants to be him or be with him.

But he still wants you.

Even after all these years, he still longs for your touch. He longs to be the only man in your life, the one you come home to.

Shoto watches you from his office window, his eyes glued to you and the person you were so lovingly fondling over. He grits his teeth and clenches his fist so tight that his knuckles turn white as snow.

That should be him down there. He should be the one who gets to hold you, touch you, kiss you.

It should be Shoto Todoroki who you love. Not whoever that extra is. He swiftly turns his gaze away from the window, a sick amusement coming over him. "Extra" really was a fitting term for whoever was down there.

Shoto should have listened to Bakugo all those years ago. He should have listened to him. He may be a cocky loudmouth but he was right and you had slipped right away from him.

Finally, it was time to take matters into his own two hands. He was done longing and lingering in the shadows. He wasn't too keen on manipulating the hero system he swore to protect but damn it all. It had to be done.

Killing your little lover was so easy, it came to him like breathing. The beauty of his quirk that it was so versatile, he could come up with so many creative ways into disposing that pesky thorn in his side. Hot flames and horrid ice marred the flesh of your little lover but Shoto was clever. Oh yes, Shoto was indeed so clever as he made sure to keep the physical torture to the minimum, just in case someone decided to get smart and start suspecting him.

Besides, it was so much more impactful to gloat over his victory. He was the one who was going to take care of you for the rest of your days together.

Not even death could tear you away from him.

Shoto watched the life being snuffed away from the poor sucker as he cried and spat out pools of sweat and blood. There were no heroes here that could help him, not a single soul was in sight.

He was completely in Shoto's mercy. And he was not going to give him a single drop of it.

The pro hero tossed the lifeless body aside and hid it sloppily, because he knew that you would be worried, that people would come looking. He cleaned up the scene of the crime and secured himself an alibi, just to be safe.

Shoto started walking towards his office but the adrenaline of the encounter still pumped in his veins, his mind was all over the place.

And your face was front and center.

Instead of his original plan of waiting it out, Shoto made the hasty decision to just.... Take you. He had waited for years, and years and years. He would be gentle, naturally.

And with time, he was positive that you would come to appreciate him.

And just like that, he was at your front door, ringing the doorbell like crazy. You opened the door in a worried frenzy, dressed in your comfortable pj's which Shoto just adored.

Suddenly, he had pushed you inside of your apartment and closed the door with his foot, freezing it ever so slightly with his quirk. He pinned you to the ground, both of your arms in a single tight grip as the other ever so gently caressed your face. His gaze was wild but focused, so utterly lovesick that there wasn't a single word which could describe the range of emotions he was feeling.

Finally, after all these years Shoto had you where he wanted you. And there was nothing that could change that.

[bedoballoons]

Don't know if you've done it yet, but hc's for a kitsune!reader.

Specifically with itto, zhongli, neuvillette, and freminet.

I imagine the typical behavior associated with kitsunes, like tricksters and mischievous kinda, want it to be bit suggestive tho. The reader somehow traps them in a certain position, and it goes on from there 😭

(Feel free to not do this if you dont want to 🩷)

Of course I want to write this! Apologies it took so long for me to get to! I can't wait!! I've never written a kitsune reader before!! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy this! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Kitsunes~༺}

CW: Suggestive! MDNI! Mentions of different positions and teasing~

(Includes: Itto, Zhongli, Neuvillette, and Freminet!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Itto:

"How did we end up like this ha, not that I mind or anything, the one and oni Ittos a true fan of being close...but I gotta admit this is closer than usual for me." You couldn't help but giggle at the large man's flustered words, your fox like ears twitching excitedly as you pressed yourself closer to his muscular body. It was true, the position you were in was far closer than one would usually allow...with his leg in between yours and your figures forced into touching due to the close walls around you..

"I'm not particularly sure as to how, but I'm certainly enjoying your presence, perhaps we should be in this position more often hm~"

𑁍༄Zhongli:

"My my Zhongli, you've certainly got me in a interesting position. Tell me, was this your intent all along~" Your words slipped from your lips in quiet seductive whispers, driving him almost mad as he stared up at you, his hands on your plush thighs that straddled his hips...even with all the knowledge he possessed he wasn't sure how he'd ended up underneath you.."I can promise you it wasn't my intention, however I must admit it's not at all displeasing...you're beautiful at any angle."

"Awe your words are so kind, perhaps I'll do something back...return the kindness~"

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

"Ahem my apologies. I didn't mean to invade your personal space." Neuvillettes voice was low against your ear, his warm breath caressing your sensitive skin and his unapologetic apologies never going unnoticed. Yes this was out of the ordinary, being tied up with chief of justice...bodies pressed close together in a heated room, but neither of you were really concerned about rescue...afterall you knew it was all just going as planned.

"Neuvie don't apologise for invading my space, with you near my like this, I can feel every curve of your perfect figure...if anything, I'd like to be even closer~"

𑁍༄Freminet:

"I-im so sorry!" Freminet could barely even speak, his face red as a tomato and his stutter worse than it had ever been. He just wanted to hide in a closet and pretend he hadn't just completely embarrassed himself in front of you, but given the fact he was currently trapped with you in a small shipping container..your legs wrapped around his waist and his face mere inches from yours...it was actually impossible. If only the poor lad knew you were enjoying his overly flustered state more than a kid enjoys candy..

"Awe don't apologise cutie, I don't mind being close to you~"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[sailor-aviator]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Loss of a parent, Crying, Premonitions, Anxiety, Bermuda Triangle, Insomnia, Running from the law, Near drowning, Near death experience, Sea monster, Cursing, Death, Mentions and brief description of blood, Magic. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.5k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You had always had a feeling of otherness surrounding you, of that you were sure. You had a knack for predicting weather changes or which ships would come home when others wouldn’t. You had known when your father stepped foot out the door that fateful morning that you would never see him again.

You had chased after him, begging him to stay, to delay his departure. Your hands had gripped the fabric of his trousers as you sank to your knees before him, tears streaking down your face as you babbled and sobbed for him to not leave your side. Your father had crouched down next to you, a gentle hand on your head as you sniffled pathetically.

“What’s the matter,” he asked gently, thumb stroking away the drops of tears that fell from your eyes.

“Something,” you hiccuped, your bottom lip trembling, “something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Please don’t go, Papa.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” He asked, but something in his voice sounded off. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were in hysterics, after all, and that in and of itself was so unlike you. That inner sense of knowing had always kept you cool and collected, warning you away from danger or towards something joyful. Never had you felt that deep sense of foreboding, though. Like your whole world was about to be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice.

“Everything will be alright, little minnow,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light. “There’s a sort of magic that courses through your blood, always has been. Even if something happens to me, you’ll be just fine. I promise.”

It had taken Bradley pulling you away for your father to leave, and you watched from the docks as the silhouette of his ship disappeared past the horizon, a sense of foreboding clutching at your heart.

And it had been right, of course.

You had tried to hold on to his words, praying that he was right. Hoping beyond all hope that he would come home.

But he hadn’t.

You remembered how the ocean spray dotted your cheeks, much like how it did now. The Hangman dipped with the waves as you stared out over the rails. You weren’t sure why that memory was on your mind now, the ache still as strong within your chest as it was the day it found a home there, but perhaps it was due to the sense of foreboding that now pulled at the back of your neck, warning of something yet to come.

“We’re nearing the triangle, lads,” a crewman murmured, grizzled face glancing around almost conspiratorially. You paused on your way to the galley, ears perking at his words.

“Aye, and what about it?” Snapped his companion, a surly looking fellow with a dark beard.

“Don’t tell me you’ve not heard o’ the tales of the triangle,” the first man scoffed, giving the bearded fellow a rather unimpressed look. A moment passed as the two stared at one another.

“I thought e’ry good sailor knew about the legends of the sea,” he continued with a shake of his head. He clapped his companion on the shoulder, leaning in as if to tell him a secret. Several other crew members stopped what they were doing to listen in as well.

“The Bermuda Triangle,” the man started, his tone taking on a warning tone, “is home to all sorts o’ monsters and fiend. They say God himself cursed this bit o’ sea, sending all sorts o’ devilish creatures to live here where they mightn’t cause any trouble for the res’.”

“You’re full of shite,” guffawed one man, leaning back so far on his perch, he nearly fell to the deck below. The storyteller scowled at him as several others shook their heads almost knowingly.

“You’re laughin’ now,” the storyteller growled, shaking his finger at the man, “but mark my words, lad: several of ye will be doomed to live out this cursed existence at the bottom of the sea before we see land again.”

Several more men let out a loud chorus of laughter as the crowd began to disperse. The sense of foreboding sat heavy as you turned back towards the underbelly of the ship.

In the galley, Bob was already hard at work making that night’s supper. You slid in easily beside him, chopping away at some carrots as he messed with one of the pots.

“Alright, out with it,” he said after a few minutes. You paused, looking at him in confusion as he fixed you with a rather unamused look.

“What?” You asked, sliding the carrots off to the side as you grabbed for some potatoes. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he scowled, waving the wooden spoon at you. “You came down here with this look on your face and haven’t said a word to me since. Now what’s got you in such a mood, hm?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his keen eyes as you contemplated on how to answer. There truly was no reason for you to be feeling this way. Or at least, nothing new that should. Of course, the rapidly approaching deadline had been near the forefront of your mind for a while, but this was different. This sense of impending doom was more urgent, more…immediate.

You couldn’t tell him that, you just couldn’t. You already felt crazy, you didn’t need word to spread of your premonitions. Really, after everything that had already happened, you didn’t need accusations of witchcraft being thrown at you—not when you were so close to the end.

“The men were just talking about sea monsters, is all,” you lied. Bob scoffed, turning back to stir whatever he had bubbling away in the pot.

“Sea monsters,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “The things they come up with.”

“You don’t think they’re telling the truth?” You pressed, an arch to your brow as you slowly went back to cutting up the potatoes.

“I’d believe it more if they actually told the truth once in a while,” he snorted back at you.

“You’re the cook on a cursed ship where all but two of the crew members don’t even need to eat,” you hummed, “and you’re questioning the existence of sea monsters?”

There was a brief pause as Bob mulled over your words.

“Hurry up with the potatoes,” he grumbled, and you did your best to hide your smirk.

The evening passed much like any other, but still a feeling kept nagging at you, and the more time went on, the stronger it became. You laid in your bed that night, the rest of the crew having retreated for some shut eye as well. Only the watchman and the helmsman stayed awake, and though you tried, not even the slow, rhythmic rocking of the Hangman could lure you to sleep. Natasha snored quietly on the other side of the room, and you envied her in that moment. You tossed and turned helplessly as you willed yourself to get at least a few hours of sleep.

You finally gave up as the telltale signs of dawn crept through the window of your cabin, casting a faint, blue glow across the wood. You let out a heavy, tired sigh as you slowly sat up. The air was cool around you, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your back. Natasha shifted on her bed, rolling over as you paused and waited for her to settle once more. After a moment’s hesitation, you slowly slipped out of bed and padded towards your chest, lifting the lid to reveal your meager belongings. You changed quickly, shooting glances at Natasha’s sleeping figure every so often to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. Your boots tapped against the floor as you padded towards the door, careful to keep the old wood from creaking as you slipped out.

Clouds covered the sky, a mist clinging to the air around you as you sucked in a lungful of briny, sea air. You peered behind you, smiling softly at the helmsman, Daniel, as he nodded your way.

Waves crashed against the hull, a familiar sound that brought you some sense of relief, no matter how small it may be. You walked towards the edge of the ship, grabbing on to one of the ropes as you leaned over the railing. The water below churned into white sea foam, the spray flying up to meet your cheek. The murky depths gave no hint as to what may lurk beneath, but the feeling within you pulsed ominously.

“Must be somewhere off the coast of Florida by now.”

You startled, head twisting to take in the sight of Jake just a few feet behind you. The wind whipped around you, twisting through your hair and obscuring your vision for a brief moment before you pushed it back.

“Are we?” you asked, turning back with a squint towards the water, as if it would help confirm what he told you. The wood echoed beneath his boots as he walked towards you, pausing just behind as the waves crashed against the hull.

“I’d expect so,” he replied, squinting his eyes at the horizon, as if the answer lay somewhere just out of sight. “If we aren’t, then we should be soon.”

You hummed, the silence between you stretching from moments to seconds to minutes. Jake cleared his throat, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his gaze trained on you, and a slight shiver ran up your spine.

“What’s wrong?”

You glanced at him, a frown pulling on your lips at his question. His face was serious, lips pressed tightly together, a crease of worry on his brow as he studied you. You shook your head, turning away from him. How could you explain this feeling within you? How could you explain to him this sense of dread and foreboding that curdled in your stomach, urging you to run, to get away. Your lips parted like you wanted to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, you let out a frustrated sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated how to explain.

“I don’t know,” you settled on finally, eyes shifting from the rolling waves to the hard wood underneath your feet. The air around you felt charged, like it did during a thunderstorm. The waves seemed to grow quiet as a heavy feeling dripped through your ribs to clutch at your heart.

Another pulse ripped through you, your breath catching in your throat. Several of the crew members were making their way up to the deck now, laughing and shouting orders at one another. You looked around wildly, your heart hammering in your chest much like it had on the siren’s isle.

“Something’s not right.” Your voice sounded small even to you. Jake watched with worry at his brow as you pushed off of the railing, pushing past a pair of crew members as you searched wildly for what, you weren’t sure. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to hide, to do something.

“Sail ho!”

You looked skyward as the lookout above signaled towards the horizon. Jake cursed under his breath, already taking off in search of Javy. You peered towards the sea. Sure enough, you could just make out the distinct sight of white sails billowing in your direction. You searched for Jake, spying him on the top deck next to Javy, a telescope to his eye as he peered at the sails.

“It’s a hulk,” he spat, lowering the scope and shoving it back towards Javy. “Flying the Union Jack. Ready the sails and make haste! We’re going to outrun those redcoats.”

The crew began running around the ship, readying the sails and tying knots as they went. You moved to help them, stopping short as another pulse shot through you, stilling you instantly.

“Guppy!”

Bradley grabbed you by the arm, shaking you momentarily from your stupor.

“Bradley?” You questioned, unsure of yourself in that moment. He pursed his lips as he gave you a once over, pulling on your arm and leading you across the deck.

“Come on,” he ground out, letting go of your arm momentarily to tie a rope off on the mast. “Don’t just stand around, help!”

You blinked at him, the familiar sense of panic crawling its way under your skin and towards your chest.

“Bradley, I-”

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, a frown on his face as he turned to look at you. Confusion and irritation marred his face, and you swallowed thickly.

Before you could answer, a gust of wind burst across the deck, nearly knocking you over. Bradley grabbed onto you, steadying you on your feet as the ship rocked dangerously in the sudden onslaught of waves.

“What in the hell,” Bradley cursed, watching as various other crew members also stumbled and struggled to stay upright. Droplets started to rain down, soon becoming a downpour as thunder roared above you.

“Where did this storm come from?” He shouted.

“Guppy!”

You turned to see Jake scrambling towards you, shoving a couple of his men to the side in order to get to you quicker. His green eyes flashed with near panic as he slid to a stop in front of you.

“You need to get inside!” He shouted, voice barely audible over the roar of the waves and shouts of the other men. His hand landed on your bicep, turning to tug you towards the cabins. Before he could even take a step, a shadow fell over you, and you turned just in time to see a monstrous wave towering over the masts of the Hangman. Your eyes rounded in horror as shrieks of panic permeated the air.

“Watch out!” A man cried just as the wave began its decent. You sucked in a sharp breath as the water crashed down onto the decks with a deafening roar. You had no time to grab onto anything as the water slammed into you, knocking Jake’s hand loose as you were sent careening back. Your back hit the wall of the railing, knocking the air from your lungs only for it to be replaced with a mouthful of seawater.

The water quickly rescinded, leaving you choking and gasping for air. Your throat burned from the saltwater, your eyes stinging as you fought to focus your eyesight. Your head swam with fogginess caused by the force of the wave and your head bouncing off the wood. Your hand came up to cradle your forehead, willing the pulsing to stop so you could get your bearings. You were vaguely aware fo the chaos that surrounded you, the pulses of pain giving way to something more sinister. All at once the world became to intense—the waves too loud, the flashes of lightning too bright. The sensations began to grow stronger, your breaths coming out in pants as your heart began to hammer away in your chest.

Something was wrong…but what?

Hands grabbed you, hauling you up and to the side just as another wave crashed into the ship from behind you. You landed on the deck with a grunt, the blow of your landing only softened by the person underneath you. You tore your eyes open, looking up to see Jake already watching you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice a deep timbre as he helped you up to a sitting position.

“I-” Before you could answer, a shrill roar like the sound of breaking class pierced the air, chilling your blood in your veins and causing your heart to stop. You scrambled to your feet, Jake not far behind you as your attention turned towards the dark waters surrounding you. That heavy feeling of dread filled you once more as movement rippled beneath the surface. The air was unsettlingly silent, pulling at your throat and squeezing it tight. The storm had calmed some, but rain still fell down onto the deck, drenching you down to the bone.

More movement caught your eye, something circling the boat, and you watched as slowly, the waves parted. Scales flickered in the light peeking through the grey clouds, causing a rippling effect along the greenish blue scales of the serpent. It was easily bigger than the whole ship, towering above the masts as it stared down with hungry, vicious eyes. Its jaw opened to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth, a horrible hissing noise leaving its maw as its body moved from side to side with the waves.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, terror striking through you at the sight. Several men shouted warnings just before the serpent came crashing down towards the deck. A splintering crack resounded in the air, drawing your attention to one of the masts, broken and hurtling towards the deck from the serpent’s strike. You had little time to react, only managing to dodge out of the way as the wood hit the deck, the vibrations of the impact rattling your teeth. A whizzing sound caught your attention, and you looked down just as the rope pulled tight around your ankle, dragging you back towards the railing.

You scrambled for the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh, unsheathing it and working furiously to sever the rope before it pulled you overboard. The threads released you with a snap, and you watched as the rope slithered over the railing and down into the depths below.

The serpent gave another mighty roar before once again diving towards the deck, the screams of men cutting short as the monster sank its fangs into flesh, dragging their wriggling bodies into its gullet. The sound of a familiar cry rang out in your ears, and you turned to see Mickey laying on his back, hands grasping desperately at his right leg. His teeth clenched tightly as blood poured from the wound, and a chill ran through you.

“Mickey!” You cried out, scrambling to your feet. Your boots thudded against the wood beneath you, but you only got a couple of feet before another ominous pulse shot through you, stopping you in your tracks.

The world seemed to grow still once more as the noise around you gave way to a high-pitched ringing in your ears, your breath coming out in slow, labored breaths as the feeling inside of you compelled you to turn. Slowly, you turned on the balls of your feet, facing the railing where your eyes met golden, snake-like irises. Blood dripped from the jaws of the serpent as a low, hissing noise escaped from its throat, the smell of death hot on its breath. You were vaguely aware of your name being shouted from behind you, too focused on the beast that stared you down. It made no move to strike at you, it simply continued to stare as if observing you. An energy hummed between the two of you, a feeling you could almost describe as familiarity passing between the two of you. It leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring as it gave you a curious sniff, its exhale blowing over you as it let out a low growl. It blinked at you slowly before retreating with a hiss.

The sounds of shouting off in the distance drew your attention away from the monster and towards the water beyond where the British ship was drawing closer. The serpent’s head snapped back to look at the new ship, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it sank into the dark waters surrounding it. You let out a shaky exhale just as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you into a wall of solid muscle. A second body joined in, wrapping arms around you from behind.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley breathed from behind. “You scared me half to death.”

You didn’t say anything in response, too shaken up by your experience. Why had the serpent stopped? What had passed between the two of you? You were only pulled away from your thoughts by the shaking of the chest you were pressed into.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look up into Jake’s face. You were met with a look of terror mixed with relief as he held you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopping only as the terrified screams of the British crew echoed through the air. You turned in Jake and Bradley’s arms to see the serpent beginning a new hunt, its meal easy pickings as it managed to tip the British naval ship on its side. Your hands tightened in Jake’s shirt as the sea beast let out a triumphant roar, lightning cracking overhead as rain began to pour down.

“Come on,” Jake murmured, releasing you slowly and turning to what remained of the crew. “We need to get to land.”

A/N: And thus marks the end of my hiatus! I'm still working on some other updates, but hopefully I'll be a little more motivated to write now that I'll be on the road a fair bit again. Thank you so much for all your patience. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get more updates out to you guys soon, but please bear with me!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[solomons-finest-rum]

Welcome back! I have been enjoying your writing but never sent you request before. Would you write maybe Alfie and a younger reader and he likes her. He wants to marry her but she is not ready so he tells her he would wait forever and it's really sweet and patient. something like that I don't know. you can decide if you like it. Thank you!

“Libretto” — (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader)

SUMMARY — Age difference between you be damned, Alfie was quite happy to wait for you forever.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you so much for the request! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ Feedback is always much appreciated.

WORD COUNT — 1,678

Masterlist

The first time you met Alfie Solomons was purely an accident. At least, you had to lie and swear to the police that it had all been an accident, if only in order to wriggle yourself out of getting arrested.

Now, had you known the man you nearly ran over with your brother’s car was the gangster boss of Camden Town, you could have been persuaded to drive a little more carefully. Especially since the car had been “borrowed” as well.

But, of course, how could you have known? Which was precisely the reason why the first words you uttered to the man were:

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” 

All due credit to Alfie Solomons, he couldn’t have been more shocked.

Now, you have to understand that a man like Alfie Solomons, a particularly dangerous man like Alfie Solomons, usually wasn’t shocked by much. It was not every day, however, that he met a girl with eyes so full of rage, driving a fancy Bentley so obviously outrageous and most likely stolen. It was more than enough to get his interest.

“Well?!” you shouted again as you got out of the car. 

It wasn’t until two police officers approached you, however, that you changed your tune. Immediately spotting your confusion, it was time for Alfie to enter the game.

“Alright, Mr. Solomons?” one of the policemen asked, feigning concern, though both of them were so obviously in Alfie’s pocket that they would have arrested you on the spot—had Alfie still not been so mesmerised by your outburst. And so, to your astonishment, they simply awaited his orders.

To Alfie’s absolute delight, you tried your best not to show how scared you were at that moment, so Alfie took his sweet fucking time before saying:

“Right, gentlemen, thank God you’re here, ‘cause there I was, mindin’ me own business, yeah, an’ there she comes, driving like the Devil’s on her tail, hair a mess—!”

“I beg your pardon, my hair is not a mess!”

“Right now it is, yeah.”

“No, it is not!”

“Are ya suggestin’ I should lie about what I saw, Miss?”

“So you… want us to arrest the lady, sir?” one of the policemen interrupted that exchange, incredulous at the interaction between you and Alfie. 

It served Alfie right, however, since his reputation had always been one to take care of the women in his community. As things were between him and the law, that charity probably remained the only thing between him and the noose.

“Nah, ‘course not,” Alfie waved his hand dismissively. “She’s clearly in a hurry, ain’t ya, luv?” Alfie asked you, with a smirk so devious you felt your cheeks going hot.

“Yes,” you said meekly, then saw Alfie make a face to encourage you to keep going. To spin the tale. 

“I… You see, it’s my grandmother,” you said smoothly and Alfie’s smirk only grew. “That’s my brother’s car, he let me borrow it to fetch the doctor. It’s consumption, you see. Overtakin’ her as we speak.”

As the cherry on top, you stifled a fake sniff.

“Now you see, gentlemen, it’s a case of utmost emergency!” Alfie shouted, waving his cane about and obviously taking great pleasure in participating in your lie. “Thank you for your service, lads, there ya go.” 

As the policemen gladly accepted a not-so-discreet bonus to their payment, you saw your chance and started to get back to the car.

But you thoroughly underestimated Alfie’s game.

“There now, I’ll drive ya, luv, you can never be too careful in these parts,” he said and quickly, quicker than you anticipated for the man, he made himself comfortable in the driver’s seat.

“Wouldn’t want any more accidents on the way, now would we, luv?” Alfie grumbled as he promptly handed you his cane and proceeded to fumble with the breaks and the accelerator as if he was trying to tame the car, not run it.

“There we go,” he announced as the engine sputtered and roared and you two sped along the street in a no less reckless manner than you had been driving before.

“Watch out!” you shrieked as Alfie almost drove straight into a flower cart on the corner.

“Don’t worry, luv, I know the way!” Alfie replied, then made a sharp turn towards London Bridge.

“You do?!”

“Right, not exactly, no, but it’s plain as day you’re not from Camden, luv.”

“What gave it away…” you sniped. 

“Now, don’t get cocky, right, ya still almost ran me over an’ I have to tell ya, luv, that takes balls, right! ‘Cause as things stand, the bounty for me is as high as they go.”

You paled at the notion and when Alfie glanced at your expression in between the turns, he roared with laughter.

“Naaah, luv, don’t be like that! Just pullin’ your leg.”

“Very funny.”

“I like to think so, yeah.”

Obviously too pleased with himself to notice, Alfie missed you paying close attention to the cane you were still holding. It was definitely heavy and so well-used that you had trouble distinguishing what used to be the shape of its head.

“Right, seein’ as you almost ended me on my own bloody street, luv, you might as well give me your name,” Alfie interrupted your musings, not too pleased about your close inspection of his personal belongings (even though the contradicting bastard gave it to you for self-keeping himself).

But you gave him your name regardless and he remarked he thought it pretty. When you also gave him your address, he drove you straight home and even got out first to open the door for you. You thanked him quickly for what you supposed was straight up hijacking the car, but seeing as you had done so first to your brother, you thought the deeds even. You only prayed no one would see you with Alfie through the window. You knew your sisters would never let you forget it had they seen you two together.

You couldn’t have known that wouldn’t be the last time you saw Alfie Solomons. Somehow throughout the following weeks you seemed to have more chance encounters together than the Fates could possibly allow.

He was always pleasant about it, though, and sometimes even brought you flowers. Then he started buying you lunches and somehow it turned into a little tradition just between you two. You ate lunch together every Thursday.

You weren’t stupid of course, you knew what Alfie was after, but truth be told… You wouldn’t exactly mind giving it to him.

He never outright proposed, but he hinted at marriage enough times that it became just one more piece of the regular fun little puzzle between you.

“An’ how’s my favourite girl this mornin’?” he would ask you when he met you for a stroll.

“Very well, thank you, Alfie,” you’d reply, your tone thoroughly overdone on the casual side. 

“Not too cold?”

“No.”

“Not too hungry?”

“Don’t think so.”

“So how ‘bout you marry me today, luv?”

“Oh, I can’t, Alfie!” you giggled as you looped your arm through his and let him lead you around the park. “I’m—”

“Right, let me guess,” he smirked. “Got my shirt inside out again?”

“No, the shirt is very clean today. That’s very unlike you.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“Well, I told you not to fire your housekeeper, haven’t I?” 

“Yeah, no harm done, I offered that old bat her bloody job back,” he grumbled and you giggled again.

“You’ll thank me later, Alfie.”

“I’m sure I won’t, luv.”

“You’re one stubborn man, d’you know that?”

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve never been told that one before.”

“So why can’t I marry you today, Alfie? You promised to guess.”

“Right, how’s about you’re too cold?”

“No, the weather’s quite nice.”

“Too hot?”

“Not really.”

“Too old?”

“Close.”

“Too young?”

You paused and so did he, because he somehow sensed this time it wasn’t just a game between you two. This time it wasn’t just banter; it was real.

“Luv, if I’m makin��� you do anythin’ you wouldn’t want to—”

“No!” you interrupted that train of thought as quickly as possible and took his hand in yours. “No. It’s just that… I don’t think I’m ready to be a wife, yet.”

“Right, in what way?”

“In… In every way, I suppose. I have no idea about running a household or ironing shirts or…”

“Right, thankfully yours truly has already been told he’s a slob.”

“Alfie, this is serious!”

“Right.”

He looked at you expectantly. You still haven’t let go of his hand, which he thought was rather promising.

“I just think I’d make a lousy wife, Alfie.”

“Yeah, that’s that then, luv, right, ‘cause look at the pair of us, I’d be a real lousy husband.”

That got him another giggle out of you, which he thought might have boosted his chances a little.

“Luv, if your parents don’t approve—”

“My parents don’t give two shits, Alfie, I’m not a princess or an heiress,” you chuckled. “I have two younger sisters and two brothers, as far as my chances stand I’d be happy if I scored a baker or some sort.”

“Right, funny you should say that…”

“A front doesn’t count, you madman!”

Even though you knew you crossed a line there by the way he looked around you two, he never did anything to chastise you or show his disapproval at the revelation you just uttered at full volume. In a way, it already told you everything there was to know about the man, had his previous behaviour not been proof enough that he cared about you a great deal.

You already knew you wanted to marry him, age difference between you be damned. So what were you so afraid of exactly?

“Luv, you already know I’m happy to wait for you forever if—”

You shook your head and got on your tiptoes to kiss him mid-speech, since you already knew that a speech was coming. The answer was, with Alfie by your side, you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.

[jennifer-jeong]

hii could i request like a little drabble or headcanons for racer L&DS characters? the idea been eating away in my mind for soooo long😭😭

HELLO ANON THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASK, I SHALL END THE EATING OF YOUR BRAIN (that sounded weird but you get me). I don’t know too much about F1 (my information source is instagram reels where the racers are shitposting) but I’ll try my best to get the memes and thirst correct hehe.

Fluff + Crack | Racer!LADS x Reader Racer Boyfriend

CONTENT Fluff, crack, gender neutral reader, the boys are F1 racers in cunty jumpsuits, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

RAFAYEL is your typical babygirl racer man. I swear this is an entire sub population of F1 racers and I love them. He’s ALWAYS winking or kissing at the cameras and looks so zesty when he poses with his hands on his hips (especially because he’s in that tiny jumpsuit). He drives his fans crazy and they make so many edits of him LOL *cue velocity edit of him taking his helmet off. He gets very serious during races though, he’s a top racer, and can get pretty riled up when things go wrong. If you were dating the man, expect to get spoiled and shown off A LOT. He’d protect you from paparazzi and crazy fans but will never stop flexing how pretty you are on his socials. Of course you reciprocate and he thinks its so cute when you make little photo edits of you two with hearts all over them.

ZAYNE is actually kind of a mystery man. He bursts onto the scene with immediate top 3 finishes in all the big races but never takes off his helmet. He’s always calm and only ever really gives a small thumbs up to cameras and nothing more. The mask kink crazies (me) are going feral over this man. His jumpsuit shows off his muscle and his voice is absurdly deep, bro has it all. When he does finally take off his helmet, it’s due to a crash and cracked helmet. The medical team needs to check his head so he has to remove it. He starts trending on twitter after that day. No wonder he hid his face this whole time. If you’re his partner he’d definitely tell you that he only wanted you to see him without the mask. He treats you like a princess, publicly escorting you places and always holding your hand. You cheer him on from the VIP suite at every single race.

XAVIER has been the longest standing champion despite all the hate. Of course he has a lot of fans as well but being in the spotlight so much naturally brings negativity. He purposely acts aloof and stupid to piss off his haters more when he inevitably wins the world cup. Those who really know him though are fully aware that he’s just acting. He’s unbelievably good at the sport and he does it all without breaking a sweat (not literally, like he actually sweats a lot LOL). There's definitely compilations of him breaking character during interviews where he actually says something intelligent or when he accidentally rizzes up his interviewer. If you two were dating it would probably just be a really sweet relationship that all his fans adore. Even the haters would probably think you’re pretty or be jealous. He tried to shield you from bad press and you think it's so cute he cares about you instead of himself in these situations. You of course do all you can to prevent paparazzi from getting to him too but he'll still kiss you in front of them.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[themultifanshipper]

LilGalexy (Lilly Muni He x George Russell x Alex Albon) with "I can't believe you've made a sex tape. Without me :(."

The reason Alex and Lily haven't made one with George is because they keep laughing at George letting out one of his britishisms during sex and the horny mood is completely derailed.

"Blimey”

“Ding Dong”

“Alrighty then, lads”

These are all things that George has said during sex. Alex and Lily have been keeping a fucking list.

Warnings: this started out pretty fluffy then got a bit depraved towards the end. Smidge of angst, scheming, threesome, sextape (obviously), oral, gags, spanking, cum eating (just trust me), maybe a tad ooc for lily

Requested from my prompt list

Alex and Lily had been trying to make a sextape for some time now, but unfortunately their boyfriend had a tendency to be… well, very unsexy when he got a bit of adrenaline pumping through him. They had made a few, just the two of them, before they had included George in the relationship, but the subject never came up and it was too late now to tell him about them without hurting his feelings.

They desperately wanted to make one with him though, despite his clumsy demeanor. But he ruined them all by coming out with expressions more ridiculous each time, so they eventually gave up.

But Alex had an idea one day, so they had decided to try something a bit despicable. Instead of telling George about it, they decided to spontaneously film themselves right before they knew George was due home, so that he could join them naturally without the extra pressure of the camera, which made him nervous at times.

So there they were, just the two of them, Alex between Lily's thighs, lapping at her cunt as she writhed on the bed, both very excited for George's arrival any minute now. Alex had set up the camera in the corner, not too visible, and it had been recording for a few minutes now.

When Alex added a couple of fingers to his ministrations, Lily moaned so loud that they didn’t hear the front door go.

They did however hear shuffling in the corridor, and George's voice call out their names.

This was it.

He was going to come in and join them, smooth as a cucumber and the sex tape would be a success (they were terrible people for not telling George but desperate times, desperate measures, you know?).

But of course as soon as the door opened and George walked in the mood changed drastically.

“Golly gosh! What's all this then?”

The two people on the bed wailed in despair as the mood was effectively ruined. There was really no hope for this man.

“Geoooorge… One of these days we're going to need to fucking gag you to stop you from ruining sex, you prick!” Alex yelled, frustrated.

He knew it was mean but it just kind of slipped out. He wasn't trying to hurt George in any way but the man obviously didn't take it well, because his shoulders slumped and he muttered a quiet “oh… sorry” before turning on his heel and walking out. Alex got up quickly to follow him.

“Wait! George I didn-”

Lily grabbed his arm “Let him go babe, he'll come around, but that was quite mean” she said, stroking his hand gently.

Some plan this shaped up to be.

Unfortunately that wasn't the end of the misery for George. He went snooping around the week after, while Lily and Alex were out, and found the other tapes.

Lily came home first and found a depressed George, wrapped in a Union Jack blanket (there was really no hope for this man) and shoveling Ice cream into his mouth.

“I can't believe you made a sex tape… without me”

“Oh George…” Lily heart broke, and she snuggled up to him on the couch. Alex wouldn't be home for a few hours so there was plenty of time to make it up to George without another clumsy man making anything worse. And Lily actually had a plan to set in motion.

A few days earlier she’d had an idea. Alex had angrily joked about gagging George… but what if that was the solution?

She talked to George about it, and George understood. He couldn’t help the things he said sometimes, and even he could look back and realise how he could ruin the mood a bit, so he agreed to a gag.

And just to get back at Alex for 1. Yelling at him and 2. Not telling him about the other tapes, they decided not to warn him.

So before Alex got home, they set up the camera in the living room, facing the couch.

On said couch sat George in nothing but his underwear, and a lovely red ribbon that Lily had found (she definitely hadn't gone and bought it just for this), secured in his mouth to stop him from talking.

And of course they couldn't help themselves having a bit of fun before Alex got there. So Lily got on her knees between George's legs and started teasing him with her mouth over the fabric of his tight boxers.

And that's how Alex found them when he came in. George whimpering and whining into the gag as Lily pulled down his underwear and licked a broad stripe from base to tip.

“What a sight the two of you make!”

George’s eyes snapped open to meet Alex's. He whimpered into the gag as Lily took him into her mouth, almost down to the base, then pulled off completely.

“I found a solution to our little problem” she said, getting up to give Alex a peck on the lips “Do you like it?”

Alex nodded dumbly as he stared at his boyfriend spread out on the couch, flushed and sweaty and incredibly hard cock leaking onto his stomach

“God he's so… pliant.” Alex surged forward to cup George's chin, thumb brushing over George's lips streched by the gag, noticing a few unshed tears in George's eyes “You really like this, don't you?”

George whimpered as he nodded, and Lily joined Alex as they both stood over him.

“Please!” George tried to say, but it came out muffled.

Lily laughed and stroked his hair gently. “You want us to make you feel good, sweetie?”

George nodded again. The speed with which he was completely submitting was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, as George had always been relatively dominant in bed (or at least in the few times they had managed to get him into bed without him ruining it).

“Alex is going to fuck you while you're inside me, okay?”

George groaned and Alex raised his eyebrows. “Did you plan this?”

“I did” she smiled and pecked him again before taking her clothes off and sitting on the sofa, leaning her body backwards so that George could easily slot in between her legs.

He scrambled to do so and Alex laughed “eager to please, good boy” and George shuddered at that.

That was also a surprise, and Alex was going to milk that for all it was worth.

“Wait Lily you need prep!” Alex suddenly remembered.

“No I uhh… I prepped before you got home” she blushed slightly.

The image of her fingering herself on her own, probably in their bed, made the two men groan in unison as George's hand went to her wet folds and easily slipped two fingers in.

“Go on, George, fill our girl up then”

George wasted no time. He slid in slowly until his hips were flush with Lily's, making her let out a shaky moan at the feeling of fullness her own fingers couldn't provide earlier.

The couch was long, long enough to allow For Lily and George's bodies, and for Alex to sit comfortably behind George to start prepping him.

At first George managed not to move, to help him out a bit, but as soon as Alex slid the third finger in and grazed George’s prostate, he couldn’t help but grind his hips back and forth, head thrown back as Lily fluttered around him at the movement.

She spoke up, voice barely above a shaky whisper. “Much more of this and our boy is going to come before you're even inside of him, Alex.”

The Williams driver nodded and lined himself up behind George, thumbs drawing circles into his hips.

“Ready baby?” Alex said gently.

George whimpered into the gag and nodded so furiously he almost headbutted Alex. So Alex chuckled and grabbed George’s hair and pulled on it, while slowly sliding into him.

George could really feel the stretch and the noise he let out was truly pornographic, and Alex started shallowly thrusting into him, which made George's hips slam against Lily's, making both of them moan in unison at the pleasure that was coursing through them.

Alex set the pace, releasing George’s hair in favour of grabbing his hips to move them exactly how he wanted.

Just then, he heard a small beep. It was barely noticeable, but Alex definitely recognized it as the low battery warning on their camera.

His eyes snapped up to where he thought it came from and landed on said camera, sitting on the shelf in the corner.

They had both planned this without him. And it was finally working. The realization made him groan and fuck into George faster. He leaned in closer and spoke right into his ear.

“You're being such a good little slut for us, aren't you Georgie?”

The younger man couldn’t answer of course but his body tensed as he whined, and Alex knew he was getting close.

Lily, who had been riled up all day at the thought of what was going to happen, was getting close too and was tightening around George by the minute, so Alex's hand came down to her clit, thumb rubbing messy circles into it.

“Look at our girl, George. She's about to come on your cock like a good girl whil I use you to fuck her”

And that was too much for poor George as he came with a muffled wail, Alex nailing his prostate on every thrust and Lily’s tight walls milking him for all he was worth.

Alex and Lily shared a brief look and quickly agreed on what to do next.

Alex untied the gag and dragged George down so he was level with the cum now seeping out of her.

“Look at that pretty cunt, George. You've made a mess, haven't you? Now clean it all up like a good boy.” And with that he roughly shoved the younger man's face between her thighs.

George immediately started licking and sucking at her folds, cleaning up as much of his cum as possible, even using his fingers to scoop it out. Lily came in no time and she grabbed George’s hair as her back arched off the couch and her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm.

“Jesus George… who knew you were such a filthy cum slut, fuck-” Alex groaned and unexpectedly came deep inside George, hips slowly grinding to a halt. Maybe he was also discovering things about himself today.

As they all caught their breaths, the unmistakable noise of the camera shutting down could be heard over their panting. George chuckled as he rolled onto his side, letting Lily get up to go get cleaned up.

“I'd say the timing on that was bloody good, old chap!” George said, grinning up at his boyfriend, obviously doing it on purpose now.

Alex groaned and gave him a hard smack on the ass, making George gasp and his cock twitch in interest. Alex lifted an eyebrow at him.

George looked only slightly bashful, but he was in fact getting hard again, so Alex smacked him even harder.

The full body jerk and the shaky moan George let out turned Alex on more than he would ever admit. Maybe the key to getting George to shut the fuck up was to rough him up a bit. Get him breathless and whiny for it so he couldn't think.

The thought of that alone made Alex realise he was also half hard again already.

“I don't want to wait for the camera to charge to start round two. I think we got what we needed this time.”

And he jumped on George, the kiss more teeth and spit than anything else, their hands quickly finding flesh to grab onto as Alex's nails dug into George's hips and thighs, marking him up, and giving George bruises to press into later, to remind him how good he could have it when he just kept his mouth shut.

Not super proud of this ngl but I hope y'all enjoyed it.

Also can you believe that I had to photoshop that pic because I could not find a single picture of lily and george together? Wild

[local-crying-boy]

ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

How they are like in a relationship pt2

Characters included: Alex Keller, Philip Graves, Nikolai, Hadir Karim

A/n: I don’t know a lot about other CoD characters that I have not written this headcannon for, so I apologise for my lack of knowledge and that the others are missing <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alex Keller

Our little American is the sweetest man here.

He’s one respectful, kind and loving man (not like the others aren’t) but he’s the type who just knows what’s going on with you by a simple look

He calls you names like ‘baby’ ‘sweetheart’

He’s got a list of jokes he wants to tell you, and has told you the CIA one a few times in hopes that it does soon become funny

Loves it when you tell him stupid jokes as well

Phillip Graves

Pet names like ‘sweetheart’ ‘honey’ ‘doll’ ‘baby’. Stupid little ones you expect southern Americans to use (for obvious reasons)

He doesn’t like leaving for missions when you and him got together, he wanted to be with you and give you all the love you deserve

So, since he can’t always be there, he would drown you in gifts and affection the minute he got home.

He usually tries to show this all the time, but you know that sometimes he just simply comes back completely and utterly mentally and physically exhausted.

He can’t say much about what he does, but he can still somewhat confine in you (as much as he insists he’s okay)

Nikolai

King of forehead kisses. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He’s talk asf (well, he’s taller than me and I’m short asf), so he can just tower over you and plant soft kisses over your head.

He’s older too, so he’s screaming major respect and being a decent man that you might not find in younger lads (for example the boys my age -.-)

He was also reluctant at first to be with you, his age was one thing as the age gap between you and him was a little too large for his liking.

However, you heavily grew on this man and he couldn’t help but FINALLY admit his feelings.

RUSSIAN NICKNAMES

Most of the time you don’t know what he’s called you, but, hey-ho, at least it’s something.

Has, at least once, insulted you in Russian without you knowing and covered it up as a pet name (you never heard him call you it more than once)

Hadir Karim

Hadir knows how it feels to loose those who are close to him, he’s practically lost his entire family due to the war going on in Urzikstan.

When he first met you, he wasn’t planning on falling in love with you, let alone date you.

However, one things leads to another and the two of you ended up getting together (yipeee)

His worst fear is losing you, after everyone he’s lost, he doesn’t want to lose another.

If you’re a solider, he’s mostly watching out for you when you’re fighting, waiting for the moment that he might have to jump in and make sure you don’t die.

It’s an extreme, of course, he knows you are completely capable of taking care of yourself, but caution didn’t kill the cat, curiosity did, and he’s happy to admit he’s not curious to see if you could survive the worse of the worst.

Speaks little sentences to you in Arabic, he doesn’t care if you understand or not (he hopes that, one day, you’ll be able to catch onto certain phrases and words)

Masterlist

[argisthebulwark]

"Are You Two Together?"

summary: Short pieces of how I think various Skyrim men would react to this question (they're all definitely together) gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn, Cicero, Erandur, Balimund, Mercer warnings: slightly suggestive (Brynjolf, Erandur)

You can feel Brynjolf’s confidence skyrocket at the question. One hand sneaks to your lower back to draw you even closer. It’s absolutely the last thing you need - if anyone in the Guild knew about you two it would ruin their opinion of you. Barely getting your footing and already sleeping with your mentor? Ignoring Brynjolf’s cocky grin you clear your throat, trying to banish the heat in your cheeks.  “Of course not.” Your words aren’t exactly convincing when you consider the messy state of your armor and the clear bite marks on his exposed skin. Mercer’s eyes dart between the obvious clues, offering nothing but an unimpressed grunt before turning away.  “Right. That would be unprofessional.”

“Absolutely not.” Vilkas answers despite the hand clasped in yours. You fight to stifle a laugh at his staunch refusal to share his personal life with others. “We’re clearly coworkers. Why would you ask such a question?”  “Well, you’re -” the poor recruit stammers into silence when Vilkas' glare turns to them. You’ll chastise him after the lad returns to his group of whelps across the hall but you know how much he delights in someone thinking he’s frightening.  “The Harbinger’s relationship status is none of your business.” His tone is curt, a contrast to the delicate way his thumb traces over the back of your hand. “Now leave us.”

“Yeah, I’m courting them.” Farkas snorts at the question. He thought it was fairly obvious - the two of you were practically joined at the hip. On the rare occasion one of you left Jorrvaskr without the other he swept you into his arms upon returning. He sat dutifully at your side while you sorted through the mess of being a Harbinger, planning out training routines or sharpening his sword.  “Hear that, love? I’m courting you.” Turning that dazzling grin on you, Farkas places an exaggerated kiss on your hand. “Many apologies for skipping a few steps.”

“Why?” Neither confirming nor denying Arnbjorn continues with his work, fully ignoring the conversation. As you’ve spent many days before you’re perched on his workbench, parchments spread around you entirely in his way. He’s grumbled about the mess a few times but hushes when you retort that he is far more interesting.  “Why would you think Arnbjorn and I are together?” Sharpening your tone, you needle the young trainee with the question. You see uncertainty in the way he glances between you and Arnbjorn’s tense back.  “Well, some of the others were talking.”  “What do you think about that?” Arnbjorn pauses at your teasing tone, a gruff hand on your thigh as he reaches for the correct tool. The poor recruit looks ready to bolt. “Sounds like a ridiculous rumor.”

Cicero is absolutely overjoyed at the question. The mere thought of others knowing he is with his Listener, of being associated with the one he loves! He’s practically bouncing at your side, hand grasping yours to his chest while you await whatever he’s got to say.  “Is it so obvious?” He sighs dramatically, a softness in his voice usually reserved just for you. “Oh, truly Cicero is quite the lovesick fool. It appears everyone has learned that the Listener owns his silly heart.” 

“As a Priest of Mara, I love all of her lady’s subjects.” Erandur’s practiced words do nothing to hide the telltale marks you’d left on his throat. The skin’s a tender reminder of the night before - you sneaking through the temple into his chambers, his words like prayers promising whatever you wish as long as you keep touching him. Clearing his throat Erandur forces himself to refocus on the acolyte standing before him. “I would never allow them special privileges due to any personal feelings.” 

“Never would’ve thought to put a label on it.” Balimund would surely get a kick out of the question. You don’t mind the interest - after the amount of time you’ve dedicated to him during your increasing visits to Riften it’s hardly a secret. You never intended on sharing your relationship with strangers but Balimund’s reliable hand on your shoulder or the way you lean into his chest in the market must’ve drawn some eyes. You’d never discussed your relationship, simply aware of shared feelings.  “I guess we are.” He answers and that soft smile is enough to warm your heart. 

“No,” Mercer lies through his teeth. You’d likely act no different if asked such a question - there’s too much at stake. If one lie unravels the others will surely follow. If anyone begins to speculate about your romantic entanglement with the Guild Master there’s no telling what else they could uncover. Ignoring the little twinge of hurt in your chest you return to your practice dummy, sure that you’ll say the same if they aren’t convinced.  “I hardly know their name.” He scoffs, kicking a foot up on his desk. “No special treatment around here.” 

[misseviehyde]

SIX

SIX MINUTES

It's been six minutes since I drank the Elixir. Six minutes since the delicious pink liquid flowed down my throat and I felt my body begin to change into a better one.

How can I describe the transformation?

Well - it feels strange to feel your bones shift and pop inside your body as your skin tightens and your genitalia shrink to nothing. Even the lengthened hair on my head and the longer feminine nails I now have on my tiny hands feel strange. My cute hairless body is smoother, softer and far more appealing than it used to be. I'm a girl now.

No... not just a girl... a pretty girl. True I'm still wearing my blue hoodie and I don't have any make up on, but even in these clothes, I look beautiful. I can feel the jealous stares of my mates.

True I gave them a bit of a show a moment ago as I lost control of myself whilst I changed. My friends had to watch in shocked fascination as I touched my body and moaned in pleasure. They could never understand how fucking good it felt to have tits growing on my chest and a pussy opening between my legs.

I wasn't embarassed about moaning like a slut - in fact I'm still not embarassed now. I've never felt more confident - the Elixir has made me feel so good. I can't believe I'm no longer a boy - but it's like I don't even care.

The others were all too chicken shit to try it. We found the instructions in an old book at my friend Daniel's house. His girlfriend was out - and me and the other lads were round for a curry, so we cooked up the Elixir and I agreed to try it.

With amazing success.

Acording to the book the transformation lasts just over six hours. I better not waste anytime then...

SIX HOURS

It's amazing how much more feminine wearing the right clothes and doing my hair and makeup, make me look and feel now I'm a girl.

Due to my lack of experience - I just decided to tie my hair up, put on a tiny bit of mascara and lipstick and wear something feminine - but kinda simple. When I learn more about being a girl, I can start to really have fun - but right now it's baby steps.

Daniel's girlfriend was luckily about the same size as I was... petite and a 34D bra size and I was able to help myself to things from her room to complete my new look. I'll have to get my own things eventually, but for now I'll steal what I can from her.

Daniel is still here, but the other guys went home, I think probably to jerk off thinking about turning into a hot girl themselves. They promised not to tell anyone about our little experiment. I don't trust them of course, which is why I burned the pages of the book when no one was watching. Now the only record of how to make the Elixir exists in a password protected encrypted file I just uploaded to the cloud.

I can imagine them all cock in hand stroking it off as they imagine coming back tomorrow to make more Elixir and getting to become a hot girl. I can't wait to see their faces when they realise this power is now mine alone.

Mmmmh, all those boys jerking off. I don't blame them. Boy am I fucking horny too. Horny in a way that I've never been before. My new body has needs and Daniel is looking kinda hot to me right now.

I like the way his eyes follow me... it makes me feel powerful. I have so much control over him now I'm pretty. He's desperate to please me - even though he has a girlfriend.

I walk over to Daniel and kiss him. He is surprised at first, perhaps confused... but as he leans into my body and tastes my sweet pink lips, his inhibitions fade.

"It's not really cheating Dan," I whisper. "It's not like I'm a real girl. She'll never know. I don't have long and I just need to know what it feels like..."

His hungry hands are soon all over my body, and I have his stiffening cock in my tiny hands.

I've never held another guys cock in my hands before. Daniel's is bigger than mine... well bigger than mine when I actually have one.

It's hard and enticing, so I lick the tip and taste his precum. Then - like it's the most natural thing in the world I pop it into my mouth and begin to suck.

I never thought I'd be sucking a cock, but now I'm female it doesn't bother me like it would. I'm a little clumsy at first (guess I'll need more practice) but after a few minutes of sucking and slurping I hear Daniel cry out and he cums in my mouth.

His load is salty, not unpleasant, so I swallow it all.

I think we are finished but then he then asks me if I want him to eat me out. Turns out I do.

Soon I am lying back on his bed with his eager tongue lapping at my pink pussy. I play with my tits as he tongue fucks me and soon I am having my first female orgasm.

"Ohhhhhh fuckkkkk," I gasp in my sexy girls voice as stars swim in front of my eyes and I shake and convulse helplessly. "That's mmmmh soooo fucking good."

My horniness is abated for now - Daniel looks a little disappointed when I put my clothes back on - perhaps he was hoping I'd fuck him. He is also clearly stricken with guilt.

"Don't worry - I won't say anything to her," I giggle.

That's enough for one day. I can feel the Elixir starting to wear off. My hair is shortening and my body becoming masculine again.

It's been the best six hours of my life and I know I now need more.

SIX DAYS

It's been six days since I first took the Elixir and my journey into femininity continues to be the greatest experience of my life.

After turning back into my male self earlier this week - I was left with a feeling of emptiness, shame and fear. Male me was shocked and upset by what I'd done as a girl and worried about what I might do again.

He and Daniel could barely talk to each other. Stupid boys - what's a little dick sucking between friends? It's not like his girlfriend would ever know.

Despite his reluctance - the urge to try the Elixir again was too strong so it was only a matter of time before I drank it again and transformed into this superior version of me.

I say superior because I AM superior. As a man, I'm almost a nobody - but female me gets all the love and attention a hot pretty girl deserves. I'm smarter, more confident and less naive as a girl. I understand the way the world really works.

I had unlocked something in myself that needed time to play out. I and now I was going to have to live two lives. That would not be easy. So I invented a story.

Only my friends and Daniel knew the real story - but to everyone else I would tell a lie that my male half had been struck by a terrible illness that kept me confined to the house. My female alter-ego would masquerade as my 'sister' come home to help look after me. Luckily I live alone.

It was not a perfect cover story and there were plenty of gaps but it would hopefully allow me to keep taking the Elixir.

My male half works from home anyway, so I was able to keep earning - but for the present time I would only go out as my female half.

I took some vacation time - and this allowed me to get used to being female.

I spent six hours a day as a girl, using the Elixir to transform. Each time the change was quicker and I felt instantly more ME. It was like switching between two channels on a TV.

I decorated a room to be MY bedroom and began to immerse myself in girl culture. I had a lot of catching up to do - what I really needed was some female friends to learn from.

Daniel was shocked when I demanded he introduce me to his girlfriend. He wanted to refuse and I actually had to blackmail him into agreeing. I also gave him another blowjob... this time he came even harder.

With carrot and stick deployed, Daniel gave in and told Lucy I was his mates sister new in town and I didn't know anyone. She was only too happy to help the new girl.

Lucy and I hit it off straight away. She introduced me to her friends and soon through networking, I was one of the girls.

Six days in and I was already bossing it as a girl. I now had a room, a growing collection of clothing and makeup, a convicing cover story and best of all a group of girlfriends.

I am good at getting what I wanted from others. It makes me all tingly to think about how easily I am playing everyone.

Manipulating people is kind of fun.

SIX WEEKS

My tight black designer dress drew the stares and attention of all the men in the hotel as I walked to the counter to check out. I fucking loved the attention - I could tell they all wanted me.

Upstairs in the room Daniel was still lying on the bed, spent by our hours of lovemaking. He had fucked me like a slut and we had finished with me grinding on top of him and in control - just as I liked it.

Looking down into his eyes I had made him tell me he loved me as I slid his cock up and down into my tight pussy.

He was all mine now.

But he meant nothing to me at the same time. In fact whilst Daniel had moaned and grunted beneath my thrusting hips... his cock deep inside my pussy - I'd even had time to Whatsapp Lucy and arrange to meet her later.

It was strange to think that only six weeks ago Daniel and I had an entirely platonic relationship. Now he was having an affair with me whilst his girlfriend believed me to be her new bestie.

I knew that sooner or later the truth would probably come out - but I didn't care. Lucy was starting to bore me anyway. I'd learned all I could from her and her insipid friends.

As for Daniel. He was hopelessly addicted to me - but I had no intention of fucking him for much longer anyway. He was just a training exercise - helping me to learn how to fuck a man right. Now I knew how to use my pussy as a weapon - there were richer and hotter guys in my sights.

I wanted bigger dick. Maybe a black guy? A rich black guy who could make me his trophy slut.

It had begun to occur to me that I was not a very nice person. In fact I was actually a fucking bitch. My male half sure seemed to think so anyway. He kept leaving me tormented messages begging me to stop ruining Daniel's life, manipulating people and acquiring material possessions.

I actually got turned on listening how nasty I was and I rubbed my clit till I came.

Being evil felt so fucking hot.

In return to my alter ego, I left him messages calling him a loser and telling him if he hated me so much to stop taking the Elixir. I knew he wouldn't. He was addicted to being me. It was just too bad I didn't have a way to get rid of him. Unlike him - I'd take it.

Yes - if only there was a way I could be rid of the fucking loser and take complete control of this life. I had noticed that after six weeks of use, my transformations would now sometimes last eight to ten hours. Maybe with further use I would gain more and more time?

I just need to keep on taking the Elixir and enjoying every minute of being a hot blonde spoiled mean bitch. In fact I need to get worse.

Eventually there would only be me... my victory was inevitable.

No one is going to get in my way.

SIX MONTHS

It was a shame what happened to Daniel. I wonder if he'll ever wake up?

Hit and runs happen all the time, but they never did find the driver who left him in a coma and it seemed almost targeted.

It was about the same time my new hotter boyfriend bought me a brand new car. He was a rapper with plenty of cash to spare and he even arranged for my old car to be scrapped for me.

Of course his mental state had become rather unhinged. He had taken our breakup badly... he seemed to blame me for Lucy leaving him and he kept threatening to tell everyone about the Elixir and 'expose me.'

Then sadly he had his accident.

My new boyfriend never did ask about the dents in the bonnet of my old car or why I asked his guys to threaten and shake down all of Daniel's old friends.

Of course my new man knew nothing about my 'condition'. If he ever asked why I seemed to shave my legs more than other girls and took a vial of pink liquid daily - he never asked.

I'm sure he had some suspicions, but I was his bitch and he sure didn't care when his big black dick was stretching my tight pussy out. As he came inside me again and again he whispered the words 'I love you' again and again to me and I knew I owned his soul now.

In fact the bastard had nearly got control the night I followed Daniel and...

After six months of constant use I now had total control of my body and mind. I could stil feel male me in there somewhere, but he was subdued.

Still all it would take is one day when I forgot to drink Elixir and he might fight back.

Well best not to think about that in case it brought him to the surface.

I was still confident that eventually he would cease to be a problem entirely... it just needed a little time.

SIX YEARS

My husband tells me I don't look a day older than when he first met me six years ago, but then again with the amount of work I can have done - staying young looking won't be an issue.

Not that I need it yet. Even though I've given birth twice (although neither Chantelle or Dior were difficult births) I DO look great.

Here I am again at Paris fashion week - my own line of clothes being modelled on the runway.

Much has changed in six years. For a start I haven't taken the Elixir for over a year now. That chapter of my life ended long ago.

Daniel never woke up. They switched him off eventually and I sent a condolence card to his family. Lucy and I made up though - I convinced her it was him who seduced me. We still keep in touch from time to time.

I'm now a celebrity. I got my break through the leaked sex-tapes I 'accidentally' leaked online of me fucking my famous husband.

Now I'm a social media darling and a fashionista. I'm a ruthless heartless bitch, so the media world suits me. No one dares get on my bad side and I ALWAYS get what I want.

I'm rich, bitchy and pretty and I feel pretty fucking good about it.

Anyway my new line of clothing is bound to be a great success. I named it after my favourite number. It's become something of a lucky charm for me.

Can you guess what number?

Yeah - you guessed it. Of course... it's six.

THE END

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Wintering | Yuletide🌟

Tom Bennett x fem!Reader

Summary: The war is over and Tom Bennett returns home, seeking comfort in a friend from his past.

Content Warnings: Drabble, Language, Smut (p in v, oral!f receiving).

Yuletide Masterlist

Wintering, verb. To hide, hibernate, seek comfort or rest, especially after turbulent times (in humans).

“Fuck,”

Your back was beginning to ache. You hadn’t given a moment’s thought as to where you were when you’d burst through the door. Just being at home, away from prying eyes, was enough. Now, the dado rail was bruising the base of your spine with every harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” he hissed again in your ear, immediately silencing himself by covering your mouth with his own. The warmth, the wetness, was delicious.

“Tom, please,” you whined into his mouth. Even through the dull pain in your back, your legs hooked around his waist ever tighter. At your plea he looked down at you, his hips still rolling lazily. When he saw the scrunch of your eyebrows, the sheen of sweat above them, and the way your lower lip pillowed as you bit down on it, Tom Bennett grinned.

He continued grinning as his hips began pistoning at an unholy pace into your wet heat. That wolfish smile was the last thing you saw as your eyes finally closed, too overwhelmed by pleasure to stay open, as you threw your head back against the wall. Bastard. He knew he was good.

You’d heard at the dancehall last night that the final battleship into port, the HMS Valiant, was due to arrive the following day at around 3 o’clock. You also knew, from working with Lois on the ambulances, that this was Tom’s ship. When Mrs Beatty and a few other ladies from your mother’s Women's Institute suggested meeting the last of the lads to come home at the dock, the idea spread through your Manchester suburb like wildfire.

No sooner had your mother come home with the news were you being bustled onto the number 54 bus with a hamper laden with fresh clothes, bottles of beer, spam sandwiches and the little change that each family could spare. Old men, and women of all ages, piled into the buses and made their way to the docks. A few families still had bunting from the King’s jubilee and strung it from dockyard cranes.

The furore was extraordinary. The battleship was already looming large on the horizon when you all emptied from the bus, and young and old cheered themselves hoarse until the ship made its way into port. Sailors, forgetting regulations, leant over the ships’ railings and waved to family and friends. When the battleship finally docked, it let out a long blast of its horn and the crowed roared with glee. Mothers and sweethearts were already crying when the gangway was let down, and you saw that even some fathers were wiping their eyes.

You watched with relief as faces you recognised filed off the boat. Mr Martin’s only surviving son, thirty-eight and with three children who each ran into his arms. Frank Smith, the school bully’s rat-faced sidekick. The lad that worked at the corner shop, nineteen now, having received his papers the day he turned eighteen. Each was greeted by their family members and someone with a ‘welcome home’ hamper.

All, except one. Tom Bennett, one of the tallest lads on the boat, walked down the gangway in a few elegant strides and stopped on the dock with a sigh as he hitched his kitbag over his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to the sky, the October afternoon already darkening to a mournful blue.

As with the rest of the young men, the war had not been kind to him. Shadows haunted his slim face, prematurely aged from the horrors of a war none of them should have fought. At home, he was the stuff of legend. Survived the battle of River Plate, Dunkirk and went on the run in Europe, only to be sent back to war the moment he returned. More lives than the luckiest of cats, your mother said. The worst, of course, was the loss of his father and his home. The grief hit the Bennett children hard. Tom Bennett jumped onto the first battleship in dock, and Lois left baby Vera in England to go nursing in Africa. Now, Tom Bennett stood on the dock with no-one to welcome him home after six long years.

You hurried forward.

“Tom-” As though he knew you were there before you even spoke, he looked down from the sky to your flushed face.

Though he said your name quietly, a smile flashed across his boyish face. Your stomach somersaulted. He’d always been the handsomest rogue in Longsight, and still was with his blue eyes and sandy hair. At least there was one thing the war hadn’t taken away from him.

You held out the hamper. “Welcome home, Tom,” and with a sincere smile you stood on tiptoe to kiss his sallow cheek. A faint lipstick smudge lingered there and you smiled all the more.

“I’d be flattered,” Tom teased, gesturing to the hamper. “If every other Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t have one too.” He laughed as he took the hamper from you. His large palm covered your own and you shivered.

There was history there. Only a few pages, but history nonetheless. At once, you were transported back to the parish dance of 1935. Both seventeen, you as green as the grass, he already-world weary and wandering. He danced with no-one the entire night, though many a girl looked hopeful, yet took your hand for the last dance. When you thought about those innocent years before the war, in the darkest hours of the night or after a few too many sherries, you swore you could feel Tom’s hands burning against your waist, and at your neck as he kissed you. Your first.

Tom too, was remembering the first moment you touched him. A maths lesson with Miss Greene. He’d been caught flicking pencil sharpenings into girls’ hair and was sent to sit in the corner at the back of the class. You, as much a sweetheart then as you were now, were tasked with handing out textbooks. Unfortunately for you and luckily for Tom, they were on the shelf above where he sat. A cocky grin on his face, Tom didn’t move. He loved winding the girls up, and you were something different. At sixteen, you were curvier than the rest, and watching you flush pink was his favourite hobby. And so, he didn’t move. With pride, he chortled as you blushed and reached for the textbooks above him. His smug smile faltered however when, in order to reach the books, your legs came to rest on each side of his spread ones. With one of your thighs either side of his, he swallowed. He could feel the heat coming from the apex between them, smell your perfume and feel the way the soft flesh pressed against his. When you finally retrieved the books, it was your turn to smirk at the red flush peppering his cheekbones.

“Where are you staying, Tom, now you're back?” You asked, voice low. Your mother was not far away.

“Bench in the pub, presumably. Most of the lads are heading that way for a party. Then I’ll find meself lodgings above some dodgy back-alley business.” He huffed a humourless laugh. You looked him directly in the eye.

“Stay out ours tonight.”

Tom leant close to you, wetting his lips. “What would mother say?”

“Don’t know, she’ll be down pub with the rest of them. Loves a sherry and a sailor.”

Half an hour later, you were pressed against the wall of your mother’s hallway, Tom Bennett lapping hungrily at your slick centre. Beneath your skirt and petticoat, the lewd sounds of his tongue against your wet sex filled the quiet evening.

Now, buried to the hilt within you, his swollen head bullying your core, Tom forgot the last seven months he’d spent living on the Valiant. Forgot the suffering of the last six years entirely. For between the softness of your thighs, the scent of your neck as he tucked his face against it tenderly, he’d found, if for a moment, the thing he’d been fighting for. Warmth, kindness, rest­. A place to winter.

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[bananaactivity]

Im not finished with Carlos fully but he looks good enough for right now ( he’s 22 in this picture here)

I changed Carlos and Evie up, so now Evie is a vain witch like her mother who is fashionable but she doesn’t sew her own stuff. ( which is for the better cse wtf was that ugly ass dress she made for Mal in D2???)

Carlos considers himself to be a very expensive person and can be pretty big germaphobe. He hates getting anything on his clothes and he refuses to wear the school uniforms at Auradon Uni because they’re ugly. He wears lots of black white grey and red, with gold accents usually. He does theme around dog associated items like gold bone cutlets, paw print lapel chains, and a tennis ball brooch. He often wears red gloves and his favorite shoes are his collection of red bottom dress shoes. He likes hiding red on the interlining of his clothes too, such as his jackets and hats and vests.

A lot of his own person style is derived from 1990s London fashion ( as the artist that means I get my references from the 1996 101 Dalmatians live action movie, the styling of Cruela in that movie is ICONIC AND IMACULATE, and I MUST reference her for Carlos.

PURRRR

Of course he wears REAL animal print. And he’s not a weak touch me not prick like some think. He’s still tech savvy and does Anyalitics and specs for the core four. He also loves GUNS 😄. Think of him like a sharp shooter who stays in the back of turf wars and snipes people. The isle doesn’t have many marks men ( they all really like swords for some reason) so he’s pretty dangerous. He builds his own weapons too.

His passion started out as a way for him to collect his own furs but Harry gets him most of what he needs plus he always needs Carlos to redo his wardrobe ( he gets… messy… after a couple days work) Carlos hates that Harry ruins his creations so fast but he pays him well and gifts him rare fabrics and samples from Auradon.

Because Carlos has no magic Mal always underestimates him. She sees him as only a stylist and ranged weapon specialist. Even tho she acknowledges him for his wit and tech skills she still doesn’t listen to him. Sometimes he wishes he could stay with Harry but then he’d have to do more work up front. Harry understood what Carlos was capable of and respected him a lot. What Harry doesn’t understand is that not everybody likes to be covered head to toe in hot sticky blood 24/7. Harry had also promised him a suite on his boat that nobody else was allowed to occupy, but even if Harry’s crew feared HARRY they wouldn’t mind having an attitude with CARLOS for preferential treatment, even if it is what he deserves 🙄

Harry and Carlos’s relationship is the definition of there are two wolves inside you. Carlos smokes and drinks but he’s more of a Marlboro and Merlot type of guy and Harry’s a Rum and Cigar kinda lad. ( I’m using cartoon logic and say that those habits are purely aesthetic based of iconography from the original Disney moves, Cruella smokes and Capt. Hook smokes two cigars at once)

Carols isn’t really scared of dogs anymore but when he arrives at Auradon he “befriends” his roommate Chad ( now an animal lover like his mother) who has pet rats and a entourage of wild animals constantly in their dorm, and threatens to shoot and skin them all every single day to make a new line of coats ( when Chad rebuttals that his rats are too small to make coats, Carlos says they’d make the perfect fuzzy gloves 💀) He also uses Chad as a living mannequin for his designs. They have a goofy relationship with each other, Carlos does make Chad do all the dirty work of skinning and draining the animals he hunts but despite how traumatic that is Carlos is a fun sweet guy so it’s okay 💀💀💀.

Jay is jelly of Carlos due to his closeness with Harry. ( I guess the way to Jays heart and respect is by holding him at sword point and threatening to gut him and hang him by those very guts over shark infested waters and watch them nibble away at him 💀)

Next I’ll find up Carlos and do some fit designs then I’ll redesign Jay and tell that gutting story 😛

[anitalianfrie]

Hi hi I’m relatively new to MotoGP so I don’t know if you maybe made a post about this before already but! What’s the accent variety like in the Italian lads? Bc I learnt Italian for a year and I loooveee love picking apart accents and silly lil language things but I’m just not used enough to spoken Italian to identify any variation from the standard. I’ve been told tho that Bez has a notable accent but do any of the others as well?🤔

accents ask accents ask stay calm! (sorry i am. very passionate about accents) also disclaimer: i am very much not an expert! i'm just having fun here

okay so, all the italian riders (that are important to me) come from one of these three places: Emilia-Romagna, more specifically Romagna, even more specifically near Rimini*; Lazio, more specifically from Rome; Piemonte, more specifically from around Turin.

*only exception is dovi who was born a leedle more in the inland. but only a leedle.

Here's a map where I have circled the zones of interest

(yes the circle around Turin is enormous it's because I'm not searching on google maps the minuscule ass place cele lived in)

You can hear the Romagnolo accent in Bez, Vale, Enea, Luca, Dovi, Mig, with various degree of intensity. Luca is probably the one with the less strong accent, but it's still very identifiable. There are of course still some differences in the way they speak (i noticed that for some reason Vale tends to open his e more than bez, sometimes making a ⟨ɛ⟩ sound rather than a ⟨e̞⟩ sound). Their accent is caractherized mainly by the way they say the s, the z and the c, that they tend to almost hiss. Here's an example of Bez saying his surname, and somebody from another region saying it. (first the person with the other accent, then bez)

In the audio you can also hear the e thing i was talking about: in Romagna they tend to close it more then they do in some other places in the north (for example the other guy is from Lombardia)

Between all of them, Bez's accent is probably the strongest. I once said that hearing him talk feels like being slapped in the face by a piadina, and I will repeat it.

Both Franco and Diggia are from Rome, but to be honest, Franky's accent is almost unperceptible. Really difficult to clock. Diggia has a stardard Rome accent, but not that strong. People from Rome have a very distinct accent (and also probably one of the easiest to do) characterized by the frequent use of dialectal terms. You can hear it for example in the c and g, that tend to be a bit more guttural, and the l tends to become a r. Also, due to the dialect thing, they tend to cut the verbs: for example fare becomes fa', andare becomes anda'.

For the Piemontese accent, we encounter a slight problem: I am also from Piemonte, and therefore it's harder for me to clock how strong the accent is. The main thing that you can hear about this accent is the o, that tends to become more of a ou. Prime example in this baby cele clip, when he says 'porte'. Adorable. Also, around Turin they tend to close the e (while we, from the secret location i'm blogging from, tend to open them). People from Piemonte also tend to say 'neh' a lot, but I don't have clips of Cele saying it because it's quite informal. I might try do to a deep dive later. And I can't say much more about this accent because as I said, I can't really hear it.

You might have noticed that pecco is nowhere to be found in the list up until now. That's because his accent INFURIATES me. He's from Piemonte but doesn't have the accent, and instead has a slight Romagnolo accent. Here's a clip from this year's Sanremo that made me cry in pain.

Another thing you might have noticed is that the guys from the northen regions (Emilia-Romagna and Piemonte) will frequently put an article in front of people's names, even if grammatically incorrect. Il Cele. Il Bez. Il Pecco. L'Enea. Il Vale. We just do that. You will not catch Diggia ever saying it, because people from the centre and south of italy just don't. do it.

I hope this was somewhat idk. interesting? useful? if you have some more questions do ask i love to talk about these things