I was inspired by one of my favourite scenes of the movie The Wicker Man (1973). I’ll leave the link if you want to watch the scene and understand better what’s going on in this fic, it’s only 4 minutes long. Well you don’t have to watch this scene or the whole movie to get the story but it gives more emphasis.
Warnings: NSFW, explicit sexual content, dirty talk
“Aw Sam Jesus Christ not again!” you ranted
“What’s wrong this time” Sam shouted from the bathroom with an annoyed tone.
“Come and see numbskull” you invited him to join you in the basement.
Sam appeared on the doorstep, half of his face was covered in shaving foam and the other half looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom. In a different situation you would have found that irresistible but this time you were really angry at him.
“I’ve already told you never wash white and coloured clothing together.” you were pulling out the washing machine all the ruined clothes and piling them up in the laundry basket. It wasn’t the first time that happened but you were really pissed off. Sam moved closer to inspect the mess he had made.
“What can I say? Light blue is pretty close to white. And light green, and light grey.” he said with such nonchalance that made you even angrier.
“Well then fuck it, this was my favourite shirt and it’s ruined.” you got up and looked at him with a threatening gaze, your hands resting on your waist.
Sam knew he wouldn’t be able to get away easily; he only saw you being that angry two other times and he wished there wouldn’t be a third. The only thing he could do was hold your own.
“Where’s the issue? Besides, you look better when you’re not wearing any clothes.”
own prompt: see above, @slotheyes hope you like ;) a/n: bc keith as a barista with that stupid little ponytail and lance wearing a star wars t-shirt was the first thing i saw, pls excuse my ridiculous music references, what i listen to as i write always goes into the finished product bc i’m a dweeb
There are plenty of awkward moments in life, some more
mortifying than others, some less. Falling up the stairs. Swimming into someone
else’s lost Band-Aid at the public pool. Working at a late-night coffee shop on
a slow, soggy Tuesday evening — hiss and grind of espresso machine, rattle and
clink of dishes in the sink, soft hum of the building’s heater overlaying shop
music as the last few regulars pack up, last few non-regulars drift out, a
to-goer hurries with his umbrella poised to open — and turning around from
washing some house mugs to find your high school ex staring at you from the
other side of the Square tablet and register.
Fandom: Frozen Pairing: Kristanna (Kristoff/Anna) and mentioned Hanna (Hans/Anna) Rating: T (PTSD, language, sensuality, angst, FEELINGS, Christmas written by a Jew) A/N: Happy Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy 10k final part of this insane thing that took over my life this week! This is the final part of the story I wrote for @frozen-illusion for the Kristanna Secret Santa. It is long and I did not have time to flesh it out nearly as much as I wanted to. Maybe someday I will revisit and revise and add and make this last part into two so it doesn’t feel so rushed, but meh. Anyway. Thanks everyone for reading and commenting and giving feedback. I have loved going on this little journey with you all. So without further ado - part three. The end.
Alfred gets sick and a little needy for his motherly British boyfriend.
Fluff, fluff, and Alfred being a dork.
It certainly was terrible. Alfred had been under the weather all day and everything seemed to hurt. His head pounded and the dull ache of his body refused to go away, no matter how he tried to ignore it and drift off to sleep. And on top of it all, he felt very irritable. Tears threatened to leave his eyes as he hugged the pillow harder.
“Ah fuck…” He hissed at the sharp pain in his back. With a sigh, he rolled around on the bed. It seemed as though the torture would never end, and the once comfy mattress lost all its softness. It was agony. Alfred pouted. The medicine was not working.
“Alfred, love, what’s the matter?”
The voice was music to the sickly man’s ears. Alfred felt a little bit better now that his boyfriend was home from work.
“I feel like shit.” Alfred groaned from beneath a heap of blankets.
The older blond made his way over to the side of the bed and took a seat. His green eyes immediately widened in worry when he placed a hand on the other’s forehead.
“It seems as though you’re running a fever. Did you take medicine?”
Alfred nodded, his ailment making his emotions run a little wild.
“Poor thing… I’ll call the doctor–”
Arthur looked at Alfred in confusion.
“Ah… I-I’ll be fine, Artie. Can you just.. stay with me for a bit?”
Alfred looked up at the Brit from the cover of his blankets feeling slightly flustered when Arthur began to chuckle.
“Alright, Alfred. But only for a bit. And if you get any worse, to the doctor’s office you go, understand?”
Arthur, slightly blushing slipped under the covers beside the younger man who gladly snuggled up to him. He couldn’t help but smile as Alfred crawled close, using his chest as a pillow. He was a bit heavy, but Arthur didn’t have the heart to say anything.
He lied there, carding his fingers through Alfred’s messy hair. After a few minutes Alfred yawned. His blue eyes drooped sleepily.
“Go to bed darling,” Arthur whispered, “You need to rest.”
“Mm.. Okay.. Love you…”
“Love you too.”
Arthur carefully pushed the sleeping man off of him and got out of the bedroom, cautious not to wake him. He supposed he would make Alfred some soup and maybe find a movie they could watch out of their large dvd collection. Alfred would like that very much.
After the soup was done, Arthur carried in a bowl for Alfred and placed it on the bedside table.
“Alfred,” he gently shook him, “wake up love, dinner is ready.”
Groggily after some coaxing on Arthur’s part, Alfred sat up in bed.
“It’s your favorite, alphabet soup.” Arthur said with a smile as he handed Alfred the bowl and his spoon.
He always found it cute how his boyfriend liked to spell out little messages in his soup. It was childish but adorable.
“Thanks, Artie. I feel a lot better now.” Alfred smiled.
Arthur couldn’t help but feel relieved. He put the movie in the DVD player and joined Alfred in the blankets.
“I love this movie!” Alfred exclaimed.
“I know love, I thought it might lift your spirits.”
Alfred grinned widely, quickly pecking Arthur on the cheek.
“You’re the best babe.”
Arthur blushed again.
“Now could I ask you for one more little favor?” Alfred asked with a mischievous smile.
Arthur stared at the hopeful American for a second. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t indulge Alfred at the moment so with a content sigh he grabbed the spoon.
“Okay, but only for today.”
“Yay!! Thanks Artie! Love ya!”
“Love you too, Al.”