#so when he had a lot of luck he was quite eager to see it as a proof he really is exraordinary
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#this movie feels very#straightforward#characters tend to literally ask questions you may have#and some scenes really really want to be sure you know what they mean#like yes in a sense photo camera can steal his virtue as in fame can spoil him#and people are following Lawrence's image rather than Lawrence himself#certainly it makes me feel good about my movie analising skills#regardless if it's true or not#anyway i liked how the first part was about a man who always felt like he's extraordinary#so when he had a lot of luck he was quite eager to see it as a proof he really is exraordinary#i heard that's one of big factors making people keep gambling#and ofc the second part seems to be even more about the discrepancy between a man and his legend#which ofc is a dingle mgs also tickles a lil bit#not mgs#lawrence of arabia
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HIII!! First of all I wanted to say that i love your blog and your writing! it brings me so much comfort :(( ANYWAY I WANTED TO REQUEST SOME CUDDLING HEADCANONS AND MAYBE A SMALL SCENARIO WITH DOTTORE?? fluff!! yknow just sleepy cuddles <3
It wasn't often that you woke up to your husband in the same bed as you. Of course, at this point, you were used to Dottore's absence, but nothing could quite fill the void that you felt when you rose from a cold bed. And although you did bother the other segments for affection to your heart's content, even they found themselves many times too busy to entertain sleeping in with you. Still, you were just happy to be with them and cherish the soft moments that happened whenever they did.
However, a habit of yours that had developed whenever you were feeling the lack of attention, was slipping into your husband's (or a segment's) room and snuggling on his (not very comfortable) bed. If you were being honest, Dottore's bed, much to your dismay, didn't really smell like him very much, for a simple reason - he rarely ever lays on it. An easy remedy to this, however, was just to steal one of his shirts. The scent was very... Dottore-like, something that oddly brought comfort to you.
On this particular day, you easily made your way into his office - empty, unfortunately, but not too surprising. He was probably in that lab of his as usual. Regardless, as you entered into the connecting (very bland) bedroom, you immediately made yourself at home on his bed. In fact, it was exactly how you left it a few days ago, messy and tussled, meaning that Dottore certainly hadn't slept on it again. Perhaps he didn't even enter his own room for that long. Your urgent words for him to rest only got through his thick skull once in a blue moon. Regardless, you pulled the blankets up and curled into them, eager to preserve the warmth, and too tired to fluff the pillows a bit more before you fell asleep.
When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that you were a lot more warmer than usual. And then, when you tried stretching to pull off a bit of the blanket, your body's movement was strangely constricted by something else. Plus, it felt like it was a lot earlier than when you usually get up. Your sleepy mind had just barely begun processing the situation when a sudden voice abruptly woke you up a lot more.
"Go back to sleep." The voice was a bit deeper and gruff than usual, but undoubtedly, it could only belong to one person, which made your heart start racing with excitement.
"Dottore!" You immediately began wiggling in his arms, trying to turn around and see him, sleepiness still holding your body hostage, not to mention how tight his arms were. "Let me see you," you complained.
"Stop moving around," he grumbled some more. "Now is not the time I wish to entertain you." And yet he languidly began to nip at the nape of your neck. But that reminded you - for him to be in bed was already a rare occurrence, and from his voice, it sounded like he was genuinely sleeping. This was... excellent news, so you probably shouldn't push your luck.
"Fine," you complied, relaxing your body once more. A wave of sleepiness hit you despite your energy from a few moments ago, but you ignored it. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" Dottore parroted, as his sharp teeth continued to dig into your skin. "I come back to my room and find my bed occupied by someone who wasn't invited. The question should be, what are you doing here?" You could only sheepishly laugh as you remembered everything.
"Well... you should know your room is mine too, you know! Besides, to make it even, you're welcome in my room anytime too!~" Dottore clicked his tongue, but it was obvious to you he didn't mind your intrusion in the slightest.
"Regardless, go back to sleep. You are tired." Despite your attempts to stifle your yawns and hide your drooping eyes, your husband had noticed it all too well.
"Don't wanna," you quickly protested. Before he could open his mouth again (and perhaps teasingly threaten to help you sleep) you spoke again.
"If I go to sleep again now, when I wake up, you won't be here anymore, will you?" You didn't need to see his expression or wait for a response to know the answer to that.
"So let me do as I please, Zandik. Let me be with you." Let you bask in this moment, fully conscious of what is going on, being able to feel and process his skin against yours and more, for you would hate to be unable to remember this gentle encounter.
"... Do what you wish, but don't bother me when you're too tired to do anything." His seemingly annoyed statement was betrayed by his arms tightening around you.
"I will." Your response ended the line of conversation, a comfortable silence now taking over. Needless to say, you wallowed in his strong back pressed against yours, his callused hands against your own, a long lock of blue hair tickling your neck. You made sure to take note of even the most minuscule details before it was time for life to resume.
What existed at this moment was merely two human beings, so similar yet so different, with their troubles and masks discarded to savor the presence of each other.
#smooches talks#dottore love notes <3#dottore x reader#divider by cafekitsune#i am pulling him by his two stupid front blue hair locks and dragging him to bed (affectionately)#uhhhh for hcs - 1. he's grumpy and will shoo u away when he's not in the mood but once he is ur trapped#2. cuddling pile with the segments#3. cuddling w zandy after reading him bedtime stories
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Nothing is Easy
Synopsis: Y/n gets into a crash in Mexico, and it keeps her from finishing the 2023 season. It’s a long road of recovery, but it pays off in the end
female driver reader x F1 2023 grid
(reader is 24 in this one, and she drives for aston martin)
“And here she is now! Y/n L/n, we were just talking about you, how are you feeling about Mexico?” Martin Brundle approaches you while you’re walking through the paddock.
“Oh, hi Martin!” You greet the commentator with a smile.
“I’m feeling good, it’s nice out, there’s a lot of fans here, and the team is looking good today” You shrug.
“So, we can expect big things from Aston Martin?”
“Yeah, me and Lance and the team are all confident in the car and we’re hoping for a good finish in the points” You speak for your teammate, Lance Stroll, and the rest of the Aston Martin garage.
“Alright Y/n, thank you for talking with me and good luck on the race” He nods and places a hand on your shoulder before walking off to his next interview-ee.
All of what you said was true; you were just coming off a P6 finish at the Austin Grand Prix, it was a calm, sunny day in Mexico City, the stands were packed with eager fans, and everyone in Aston Martin had confidence in their driver lineup.
You and Lance first became teammates in 2021 when Racing Point became Aston Martin and as a part of their rebranding, they named you, the 2020 F2 World Champion, as a part of their 2021 Driver Lineup.
It took a bit for you to get used to the car, frequenting P10 and P9, but was fairly successful in 2022, getting used to taking P7 and P6. You and Lance worked together quite well, being the same age and having the same goals in Formula 1.
You felt less nerves and more anticipation as you completed your usual race day routine. It was the 20th/23rd race of the year and you’ve completed the same routine for three years, so your body is on auto pilot all morning.
A tap on your shoulder from your race engineer, Ben Michael, brings you out of your daze. “30-minute warning, Y/n. We have the get the cars out and onto the grid” The older man says to you.
You nod and pull off your headphones before replacing them with your helmet and balaclava. When you turn, you’re surprised to see your teammate mirroring you. “Good luck, we’re going to do great, yeah?” Lance sticks out his hand in a fist bump and you raise your arm to meet it.
“Yeah, of course. Good luck” You both move to get into your respective cars and wait for the signal to exit the garage.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we’re about thirty seconds away from light’s out now. All twenty cars are out and completing the formation lap, here’s what our top 10 of the starting grid looks like;
“Lance Stroll, P10. Y/n L/n, P9. Oscar Piastri, P8. Lando Norris, P7. George Russell, P6. Sergio Perez, P5. Lewis Hamilton, P4. Charles Leclerc, P3. Carlos Sainz, P2, and starting at pole position is Max Verstappen” David Croft commentates for the viewers.
“71 Laps ahead of us, let’s see what unfolds, it’s light’s out and away we go! Verstappen and the Ferrari’s get away with no problems. Hamilton is off, trying to get away from Perez behind him”
“Russell is scrambling away in attempt to bring a gap between him and the two McLarens. Both Aston Martin’s start flawlessly, DRS isn’t available until Sector 2, but it looks like L/n is already trying to get a bit closer to Piastri in front of her”
“Okay Y/n, once DRS is available, push to catch up to Piastri and try to overtake him. We’re looking to advance early so Lance can get some overtakes done as well” Ben becomes audible through your radio.
“Understood” You reply before refocusing on the orange car in front of you.
“Lap 4, no changes in the lineup so far, but I wouldn’t speak too soon. Y/n L/n is gaining on Oscar Pisatri in front of her. Just leaving Turn 7, she’s going down the inside, wheel to wheel as they go into Turn 8, leaving Turn 9 does she have a lead?
Yes, she does! Y/n L/n has a McLaren beat, and I don’t think she’s going to hesitate in moving onto Lando Norris”
“Lap 12, now. Verstappen is, predictably, still leading, both Ferrari’s persistent behind him. Lewis Hamilton in P4 with his teammate behind him, trying to get away from the Aston Martin’s of L/n and Stroll, both just overtook the two McLarens of Norris and Piastri”
“Lap 20 and tension is starting to rise here. Most of the race today has been between Y/n L/n and whoever is in front of her. Right now, George Russell has his foot against the gas, taking every opportunity to try to extend the gap between him and the Aston Martin”
You’re trailing Russell as you approach Turn 2. Turn 3 is the last corner before the long straight and if you want to get up into P5, you have to catch up with him before the next bend.
“Y/n, you have more pace. You are faster than Russell, push and you’ll beat him” Ben speaks. “Understood, I’m trying” You reply shortly.
“Here we go, DRS is enabled. She’s gaining on him, trying to at least go wheel-to-wheel before the long straight. L/n’s moving aside from behind Russell and going around the outside”
The front of your car is aligned with the middle of his and you move to the right to avoid contact.
“They’re almost wheel-to-wheel! L/n’s front left tire is right behind Russell’s front right tire, George is not backing away from this”
You try to move closer to finish the move and before you can shift to the right again, your front left makes contact with George’s front right tire.
“There’s some contact in the tires and Y/n is spinning! She makes contact with George Russell and spins across the track!”
You see a blur of dark green and a mess of orange pass you, probably cars swerving around your collision.
“George Russell continues fine, moving ahead. Martin, I don’t even think he’s realized what happened” Croft speaks to the man next to him while staring at the track in front of him with worry.
You’ve managed to stop your car, but you’re in the middle of the track, so just as you’re about to turn your head around to look for the perfect opportunity to set yourself right, you feel a world of pain on the left side of you.
“Esteban Ocon did not see Y/n L/n’s car in front of him! He’s hit into the side of her Aston Martin! I think he tried to swerve to avoid her, but he was going too fast!” Crofty shouts.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Esteban Ocon’s Alpine has T-boned Y/n L/n’s Aston Martin and it’s a red flag”
Your eyes are closed both in fear and pain, causing you to miss all the other cars weave around the collision in the middle of the straight. The other 18 cars were guided into the pits by the safety car, so when Esteban climbs out of his car and runs towards yours, he doesn’t have to worry about other cars on track.
Your five senses are scrambled. All you feel is the pain in your hip, the only scent you smell is fuel, and while usually the scent will remind you of your karting days, it now just clouds your brain’s attempts to figure out what the hell happened.
A metallic taste fills your mouth, and you assume you’ve bit your lip so hard in pain, it started bleeding. Your eyes are closed and all you can hear is the combination of a voice in your ears, someone shouting near you, and the buzz of the crowd around you.
You force your eyes to meet the harsh Mexican sun and the distressed frame of Esteban Ocon hovering above you. You realize the voice in your ear is Ben through your radio, and it takes you a worrying amount of time to refocus your attention on the steering wheel your hands still clutch and answer the question your race engineer has been asking non-stop.
“Yeah, I’m okay. For the most part. I think” You radio back to the Aston Martin garage. You realize that that buzzing in your ear is only half because of the crowd, and it takes a moment for the humming to calm down so that the Alpine driver is audible.
“Y/n! Can you hear me? Are you okay?” He shouts and you quickly lift your hand to meet his resting on the side of your car in hopes he will stop yelling. “I’m okay, Esteban” You shift uncomfortably.
“Actually, I think I hurt my hip. I can’t move my left leg at all”
The Frenchman looks slightly relieved. “Do you need help getting out? I can-” You interrupt quickly.
“No! Please don’t do anything, I’ll just wait for the marshals” You weren’t very good friends with Esteban, but you appreciated his care for a fellow driver.
The marshals you spoke of arrived a few minutes later in another safety car and an ambulance. You told Ben that you couldn’t move, and the medics arrived prepared to lift you out of your crash car and onto a gurney. Once the marshals assured Esteban you would be okay, he was escorted into the safety car and back into the paddock.
The radio messages in team garages were confidential, so viewers and drivers only knew your status because of David Croft’s commentary.
“After a few minutes of uncertainty, it’s clear that Y/n L/n is okay and out of her car. According to the Aston Martin race engineer, Ben Micheal, she is off to the medical center and in good hands” Crofty says with clear traces of relief in his voice.
You ride in the elevator clutching tightly onto your race suit. Now that the shock of the crash is gone, the only thing you can feel is pain in the left side of your hip. It’s a searing pain that has spread across your body, but it burns the most above your thigh.
The medics inside the ambulance do the work of pulling your race suit down your body to make your hip visible and you try your best not to wince every time a hand touches the left side of your body, but you do it so much it becomes subconscious.
You get wheeled through the medical center and into a room where two doctors immediately start working around you. You hear one talking about x-rays and having a proper ambulance being called to take you to the closest hospital once they examined your hip.
Your eyes are shut in pain, but you look up when you hear the voice of your PR officer and best friend in the paddock, Addison, asking the doctors for an update on you. “We can’t be 100% sure but from the looks of it, it might be a fractured hip” The female doctor says. Addison sighs and frows before going to your side to replace your clinched race suit with her hand.
“Are you okay?” The British woman asks. “No” You grimace “Am I going to the hospital?”
“Yeah, the ambulance is on its way, should be here in a few minutes”
You’ve never been in an ambulance before, and the underwhelming expirience does nothing to cheer you up. You enter the hospital through the ER entryway, but it doesn’t stop everyone in the waiting room from staring at a woman they find familiar.
You get x-rays done first and then a different doctor comes into your room to update you on the results about an hour later. Apparently, you have a femoral neck fracture in the left side of your hip, meaning you broke the top of your femur bone.
In order to prevent further injuries, you needed surgery as soon as possible. You’re 24, so you’re beyond eligible to deal with your own medical incidents, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Addison helped you figure it all out and within three hours, you were being wheeled into the operating room.
You were put to sleep while surgeons placed three steel screws through the top of your femur and into your pelvis. It took three hours, but it was successful; you were still in a daze once they took you for another round of x-rays.
It freaked you out a bit, seeing and knowing steel was screwed into your body but your hip didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it did before, so you count it as a plus.
While you’re sitting in your hospital bed after your surgery, your doctor and surgeon knock on your door. “Hey Y/n, how’re you feeling?” The surgeon says.
“Eh, I’m okay. The anesthesia has mostly worn off but I’m still kinda tired. My hip doesn’t hurt as bad, though”
“That’s good. So, we’ve printed out all the necessary information for taking care of your fracture in here” The surgeon holds up a packet of papers. “But I’ll give you the gist of it now” He continues.
“You’ll have to stay in the hospital until Tuesday night and because you still need to get home, but because you can’t travel normally with your fracture, you’ll need to leave in a scheduled airliner. That means that you’ll fly on a stretcher installed in the plane with a medical flight attendant looking after you”
“When you get home, you’ll have to book a follow-up appointment to follow bone healing. All the wound care and pain medication information are in here” He pauses to hold up the packet as the man next to him continues
“You’ll be able to walk and sit and lay down just fine, you’re just going to experience some pain when you do. Physical therapy is recommended, and it will take about 3 months of training to regain total range of motion and strength”
“Now, I know you are a Formula 1 driver, but for the sake of your hip, I instruct you don’t drive for six weeks at least”
In all the information he gave you, that was the one sentence that stuck out to you. Six weeks means you won’t be able to race for the rest of the season.
Shit
Addison squeezed your hand and sent you a sympathetic look. You think the two doctors said a few more things but the only thing you noticed was when they left. “I-I can’t drive?” You said in disbelief.
“Y/n, there’s only three races left, you won’t be missing much-” Your PR officer said but you interrupted.
“It’s still three races! I was doing great; I was scoring points for us and now I’m just out?”
“Y/n, maybe this is a good thing” She shrugged and picked up the packet on your night stand.
“It says that after these types of car crashes, your reaction time will be slow, and we don’t want you out there when you’re not ready”
You were about to continue your argument, but instead you just sighed and threw your head back into the pillow, grumbling, “Fine”
Your two days in the hospital were filled with answering messages and daily checkups. A lot of people had contacted you with worry, and you had a few discussions with the engineers at Aston Martin.
Expectedly, they were as frustrated as you once they heard of your condition and set up a time with your PR team to announce it. You talked to your family and friends first, ensuring you were okay and would be heading home soon.
Most drivers on the grid heard that you were going into surgery and texted to make sure you were alright, and once you replied to them, you went on social media to see what everyone was saying.
On Tuesday night, you packed up all your things and changed into the clothes Addison brought you in preparation to leave for the airport. All the excitement from the Grand Prix was gone from Mexico City, so you had no trouble navigating through the airport.
The flight was a bit strange; having to lay down the entire time and have an attendant checking up on you every hour, but you managed.
It was relieving to finally get home after an exhausting week away, and you realized you should get used to being at home. Like the doctor advised, you made a follow up appointment and scheduled physical therapy appointments to fill two months.
The doctors you met at the follow up appointment removed the staples used to close up your wound and a few days later, you were going to your first therapy appointment.
The worst part about being bed ridden was the fact you could not watch the races in person. Along with not driving, you weren’t supposed to travel for 6 weeks.
From your couch you watched Felipe Drugovich race your car in Brazil, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi. You watched Max win the 2023 Championship and Lance finish 9th in the driver’s standings.
As soon as you could, you were on a flight to the Aston Martin Headquarters in Silverstone and included in many meetings regarding your injury and how to advance. You spend a few days in England on the simulator and being analyzed by race engineers.
You do the same once you arrive home, and your off-season schedule becomes fairly structured. You wake up, do the most amount physical training you can with your fitness trainer, go to physical therapy, race on your simulator, and go to sleep to do it all again tomorrow.
You travel to the Aston Martin headquarters a few more times but you don’t see anybody outside of your team until the pre-season testing session in February. You’re walking, without any pain, to the Aston Martin garage with Addison by your side when you feel two hands on your shoulder.
“Y/n!” A French voice exclaims. “Hey Esteban!” You turn to find the Alpine driver grinning. Since your crash, Esteban has checked in regularly asking about health updates and it became the beginning of a friendship between you two.
“It is so nice to see you in the paddock again. You are feeling better, yes?” He brings you into a hug as you walk together.
“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. I finished physical therapy last month and I was cleared to drive a few weeks ago”
“That’s great, I’m so happy you’re okay. I will see you later, Y/n” Your friend bids you goodbye and turns to walk to his own garage.
“You say hello to Esteban and not me?”
A voice comes from behind you, and you wheel around to see your teammate. “Hi Lance” You bring your teammate into a hug with a smile.
You’ve seen Lance a few times at Aston Martin HQ and it’s common for you two to train on your simulators at home together.
“How’s your hip, metal man?” He teases as you laugh. “It’s steel, actually, and it’s okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore” You nod.
“Good. Be careful today, I want my actual teammate with me this year” Felipe adjusted well to your car and sudden promotion, but your contract was solid, and the Brazilian remains as your reserve driver.
“Don’t worry, I will be. See you later, Lance” You waved as he said goodbye and you both entered your garage then to your drivers' rooms.
The testing session proved to be successful, as both Aston Martin’s traded taking fastest laps. Both of the new cars had several upgrades done on them over the winter break and you’re glad to see they’ve paid off.
Pre-season testing is fairly low-key, so after finishing your run, there was no media for you to complete and you were free to go back to your hotel to prepare for tomorrow.
Both green cars performed strongly on Friday and Saturday, and you left Sakhir Track confident.
“Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the first race of 2024. After a few months of winter break and three days of pre-season testing, we have all twenty drivers in their new cars, 30 seconds away from lights out.”
“And, for the first time since Mexico 2023, Y/n L/n rejoins the grid after a hip fracture. She’s healed splendidly after her surgery in the beginning of November and with the Aston Martin’s looking fast, she’s expected to do well here in Bahrain” Martin Brundle introduces today’s race.
“Here’s our top 10 on the grid today; Max Verstappen, P1. Charles Leclerc, P2. Sergio Perez, P3. Y/n L/n, P4. Carlos Sainz, P5, Lewis Hamilton, P6. Lance Stroll, P7. George Russel, P8. Lando Norris, P9. Pierre Gasly, P10. It’s going to be an interesting race, the light’s come on, and its light’s out and away we go!”
You’ve waited five months to get back in your car and you’re not about to waste the opportunity. Instead, you win.
“1st race of the year, her first race in five months, her first race win, Y/n L/n goes P1! She went through a Ferrari and two Red Bull’s, and now she goes through the checkered flag first!”
And you win again.
“For the second time, Y/n L/n wins the Grand Prix! She started P5 and worked her way up to P1! What a battle between her and Verstappen! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re only in Saudi Arabia, but it’s safe to safe I would follow those two cars wherever Formula 1 takes them if we get more races like that!”
And again.
“She does it in Miami! As her fourth race win, Y/n L/n beats Max Verstappen to the checkered flag with her teammate behind her in P3!”
And again.
“Martin, I can’t believe it. Y/n L/n wins her fifth Grand Prix in Monaco! It’s only the 8th race of 2024 but we are looking into a very exciting racing season ahead of us”
“So, Y/n” A reporter asks you during a press conference in June. “Max has won six races” She gestures to the Red Bull driver next to you. “And you’ve won five, looking to make it six this weekend in Austria. Is it safe to say that it’s going to be between you two for the 2024 Driver’s Championship?”
“Well, I mean it’s never good to speak too early, but we’ve both been looking promising this year and according to our stats, that’s where we’re headed”
“It’s Max Verstappen’s home race here in the Netherlands, but it’s not going to be easy to win. Y/n L/n has been right on his tail all race, her teammate Lance Stroll behind her in his own fight with the other Red Bull. My, if you asked me if this year’s rivalry would be between Aston Martin and Red Bull, I would not have believed you”
“And it’s the first 1-2 for Aston Martin! Lance Stroll goes P1 with his teammate right behind him! Great day in Singapore for the Canadian, outstanding day for everyone wearing green!”
“We are back in Mexico today, the very race she crashed at last year, but if she’s nervous she doesn’t show it. It’s Y/n L/n for her 9th win in Formula 1 and in the 2023 season! Verstappen in P2, Stroll takes P3, Perez, P4, and Sainz, P5”
“In the November air, Daniel Ricciardo goes P1 in Las Vegas after Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n collided and retired! An amazing day for the Australian, a frustrating one for the Red Bull and Aston Martin drivers”
“After Verstappen took his ninth win in Quatar, he and L/n are now tied with wins and very close in points for the Driver’s Championship. Max starts P1 today in Abu Dhabi, and if Y/n can get in front of him, Formula 1 will have its first female World Champion”
You’ve come way too far to lose like this. It’s been probably the most stressful season you’ve driven in ever, there’s no way you’re going to lose after it all.
“Y/n, relax” Your teammate places his hands on your shoulders.
“You’re going to do great. You’re going P1, trust me. You don’t need it but good luck, we’re all rooting for you” Lance sends you a smile and you’re struck with gratitude for your teammate.
“Thanks Lance, you’re going to do great too”You hug your friend before pulling your balaclava and helmet on.
“It’s an anxious day in Abu Dhabi, this race could go either way, it’s lights out and away we go!”
You remember Daniel comparing the 2021 Abu Dhabi race to a flip of a coin, and you think history has repeated itself. All 58 laps, you and Max take turns overtaking each other.
This time, it’s not just Sergio playing a team’s game; Lance helps in whatever way he can, whether it’s taking your spot when you’re in the pitlane or defending against Max so you can pass him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after the most exciting season yet, Y/n L/n overtakes Max Verstappen and becomes the world champion! It took a long road of recovery, but the reward is sweet! L/n takes the checkered flag first and the arena is booming with noise! The coin has landed on her side today, and she accepts it happily”
The Aston Martin Garage is just as happy as you are, bringing you into hugs and jumping up and down, grins never leaving their faces. Lance joins you on the podium in P3 and you two soak each other in champagne. You shake Max’s hand politely but continue to beam as you wrap your home country’s flag around your shoulders and wave at the crowd.
With steel screwed into your hip, you stand on the podium with your trophy held above your head, looking down at everyone who has waited for this moment as long as you have.
#formula 1#reader insert#driver reader#f1 grid x reader#platonic f1 grid#f1 imagine#female driver reader#recovery#aston martin#aston martin driver reader#platonic lance stroll
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FICTOBER DAY 18- Give Me A Spin
heheheh we have a halloween check in (filth) from our You Again universe!!!
FICTOBER
Patreon
WC- 1.5k
Warnings- degrading, costumes, thigh riding, etc.
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“Give me a spin… let me see the full thing.” Harry spoke, swirling his liquor around the tumbler. The ice clinked against the glass as he sat in the armchair, letting Y/N give him costume choices for his friend’s Halloween party.
Y/N wanted to look tasteful but also a little sexy. Harry was older than her and she assumed his friends were also kind of classy. It wouldn’t be like any college party she had gone to before, and since actually starting to date the more mature man, Y/N had made some changes. It was nothing she didn’t already want to do but it seemed like Harry elevated her in a way. Something she really liked, but something like this was slightly intimidating.
Her options had come in the mail, and consisted of things that could potentially match Harry’s options. He had an obvious suit, so she thought she could go as a secretary, or he could do jeans and slicked back hair, so she bought a 50’s Grease inspired outfit. There had also been the relaxed version of princess aurora, which she could match with one of his flowy white shirt shirts and brown trousers- but there was one that she had bought specifically to rile him up.
Harry as a whole was a very mild mannered, calm man. He was soft spoken and gentle with his approach, level headed and a lot of the things she expected out of dating a man like him- but she had seen his other sides. How he could become far more excitable when she dragged it out of him. Y/N still had a lot to learn about the man sitting in front of her, but she knew one thing for certain- she had started to poke the bear.
Her last costume was one she had tucked away from a previous Halloween party, one where she was definitely more bold with her attire. A lace bodysuit with a little puff tail attached to her ass and bunny ears was absolutely not what she was going to wear to a party full of his friends, but when she was giving him a little fashion show? She figured she would test her luck.
The white black heels highlighted her legs perfectly, making her feel tall and statuesque as she began to turn herself around carefully. He would want to look at every detail, every little bit of it when it was on her because her goal would be for him to take it off. His eyes could be felt on her as she preened, turning back to face him with her hands clasped in front of her, anticipation building in her belly for his reaction. “What do you think?” She prodded, tilting her head in that pup-like way that seemed to always get to him.
Harry was silent for a moment, taking a sip of his drink as he let his eyes eat her alive. She swore she could feel his line of sight burning her skin, lingering on her thighs and her breasts that both were quite exposed. The longer he was quiet, the more she felt like squirming, knowing that she had definitely just taunted him when he had had quite the work day. She was playing with fire but desperate to feel the burn.
“I think you’re a filthy whore.” He said, not changing his posture as he took another sip. “But I do like that quality about you, darling. Come to me.”
Y/N could feel herself getting wet when he leaned back in the chair and spread his thighs, patting the left one for her to sit on. She didn’t want to seem too eager but god, she was. She was so eager and embarrassingly wet as she moved to him and went to sit across his lap, only to be stopped by his hand.
“Wrong way. Straddle it, darling. Go on.” He patted her ass, steading himself as she stared at him with wide eyes, doing as she was told. Her brain immediately reminded her that he was definitely going to feel how wet she was if she stayed like this, trying to keep some of her weight off- but that plan was foiled when he tugged her to sit down.
“I-I think this means you like it?” She asked, feeling his fingers brushing over the lace as he hummed in his throat, his gaze making her feel naked. The costume had her close to it, but that’s probably why he loved it so much.
“I do. I like when when my pretty girl dresses slutty for me. Sometimes… I forget, y’know?” His hand squeezed her thigh, tapping his fingertips on the top. “I forget that you’ve got that filthy side that I need to indulge in. I’ve been fucking you too sweet, hm?” His hair fall slightly into his eyes as he shook his head, a little smirk rising on the corner of his lips. She could feel his thigh muscle tighten as he adjusted himself in the chair, keeping her steady before resting his hands on the arms of the plush armchair.
“A little.” She peeped, eyes round as she tried to gauge him. Harry’s touch had been taken away but he made no moves to move her from his leg. “I love it all, though. I do, I just like when you…” Her voice caught as she shifted, her clit brushing against both the lace of her bodysuit and his pants.
“When I what, sweetheart?” He murmured, looking unbothered despite his dark eyes. “When I treat you like my little doll? Is that what you like?” His words were cooed, but she could feel the slight humiliation on her cheeks when she shivered at them. “Yeah, I think that’s it. You knew what this little get up would do f’me. Wanted to tease me, because my sweet little thing isn’t about to flash her pussy to everyone. Or maybe she would.” His fingers rose again, tugging the top of the bodysuit down to reveal her tits, pebbled nipples taken between fingers as he plucked them. Y/N mewled, trying to get closer to him when his touch fell away.
“N-no. I’m yours.” She insisted, shifting again and letting her eyes hood as she felt the burst of pleasure again. Why was this making her so wet? “Promise, I’m yours. I did it for you, I know you had a day a-and I wanted to make you happy.” Her explanation was breathy as Harry bounced his thigh a few times, making her gasp.
“Aw, look at that.” He smiled. “Sweet little fuckdoll. You wanted to put on a show for Daddy, hm?” His grip moved to her waist, pulling her to move her hips. “Then do it. Ride my thigh, make a mess of it, but don’t cum.” There was no arguing with him, but Y/N whined anyways. Rocking her hips was a sweet relief, mouth falling open and fingers curling in his shirt as she rubbed her clit over the fabrics.
“None of that whining, Doll. I can smell how wet y’are. Filthy thing, must have been gagging for it all day. Love you too much to deny you, but…” He sucked his teeth, watching her bunny ears begin to slide down which he prompt fixed. “Daddy’s got a pretty little fuckbunny and I want to feel that perfect cunt gush around my cock when you cum. M’selfish when it comes to your pleasure. All of it belongs to me, yeah?”
Y/N nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. His fingers gripped her cheeks, making her lips pout and her gasp as she moved her hips faster. It was rare for him to ever do something like this, but she loved to make him shed the sweet, fluffy skin that was usually reserved just for her with the deep, slow sex and soft kisses, to this. The slight degrading, the playing with her right back. “I said, It all belongs to me. Use that pretty bunny brain to respond with words, my love.” He pulled her down for a soft kiss before releasing her, brow raising in expectation.
“It’s yours, I’m always yours, Daddy. I’ll do anything for you.” She whispered, eyes watching as he began to undo his belt. Her mouth was almost watering, wanting to take him down her throat and taste him, but she would behave until he said to do anything but.
“That’s what I wanted to hear, babylove.” He sighed, letting his belt fall to the floor. “Now keep going, get to the edge, and then sit on my cock. Bounce on it like the good little bunny y’are.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#jarofstyles fictober#jarofstyles fictober 23#you again#you againrry#harry styles flufff#Harry styles angst#harry styles oneshots#Harry fluff#harry angst#Harry smut#older harry styles
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Hello and goodevening po!! Can I ask for a Miles x Gn!Filipino!Reader where the two have been bsfs since like middle school and they've just started dating and one day reader's family invites him over for dinner where they serve adobo and pork sinigang, and him and the parents are just casually talking while the little siblings are being complete chismosas abt y'all and stuff and when your finally only with him in your room and everything is romantic your brothers are lit just stalking y'all and suddenly teasing you and your just chasing them out embarassed 😭
(Aaah i'm really writing this in the notes app for practice bcs this is my first request but i just can't get this out of my head 😭😭😭, also pls take your time on this time, don't need to rush and gl on that miguel fanfic!! <33)
AH HI !! DWDW, thank you btw <:DD (mgee it's just sitting in my gdocs collecting dust LOL) BUT GOOD LUCK WITH WRITING THAT TOO ON YOUR END, I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I MADE <333
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
gonna admit it? miles x gn!filipino!reader
summary: you and miles are just really good friends, but your family wishes you two were a little more than that–and your siblings are eager to witness how in love you both are with each other.
word count: 1,184
you invited miles over for dinner, which was common practice in your family's household. he wasn't any stranger to this custom, in fact, he treated your family as if they were his own. he got along with your parents quite well, calling them 'tio' and 'tia' and extending his hand out to them to receive their blessing. he was who your parents wanted for you, a decent guy who was respectful, cheerful, helpful and loving–but you and miles swore there was nothing going on between you two.
"i just really care about them a lot, tio, tia." he said as he got himself another bowl of adobo. you pretended to gag as you got yourself a pork sinigang, which miles rolled his eyes and smirked at. you two had this silly little rivalry between you two where all friendships would be forgotten when adobo and sinigang were on the table; he always chose adobo, and you always chose sinigang–never the other way around. your parents chuckled to each other and shot a devious look at you and asked you if you and miles weren't lying, to which you chortled out your response. "siyempre naman po, i'd never pick a boy who'd choose adobo over sinigang, no..." you muttered as miles made a yapping motion with his hand that mocked your expression as you spoke, eliciting laughter from your younger siblings as he laughed along silently with them.
you shot them an intimidating look and kicked miles lightly in the shin to get him to stop being so smug as your parents smiled to themselves, finishing their meals as you and miles still bickered in a friendly way on how adobo and sinigang are better than the other. you loved miles, apart from his–what you believed–very twisted way on taking the adobo versus sinigang debate, and was extremely happy to be his friend. you have known miles ever since middle school, and since then, you two have never been anywhere without the other. most of your friends had shipped you and him together, going on and on about how cute of a couple you two would be.
your family was obviously no stranger to this incessant pairing between you two, and you were relieved they liked miles enough to treat him like he was family, but you absolutely hated how annoying they got whenever you mentioned him or they saw your posts on instagram with him in the pictures. like tonight, your parents kept asking you subtly (and not so subtly) for hints between you two, if you two changed your minds and were secretly dating now, or...? well, you didn't have to think about your answer too much, because the answer was the same as always: siyempre, hindi.
your parents pretended to believe you as you and miles were going to head upstairs to your room to just hang out, your dad stopped miles on the way and reminded him not to do anything stupid with you, and shot you a look of warning, as well, as your mother chimed in and told you the living room was a better option to 'hang out'. you tried telling your parents nothing weird or dangerous would happen anyway, while miles poked fun at you from behind to entertain your little siblings–making silly faces behind your back as you spoke.
you turned around quickly as soon as your parents finally let you and miles go, smiling a little at miles' funny faces. you rolled your eyes at him as you took him by the hand and dragged him up along the stairs. your little siblings followed you two up without you knowing, and they were giggling to themselves as they snooped around and watched you two, hoping you two would finally kiss.
you and miles just sat on tour bed together, not really doing much but just teasing each other. miles really refuses to let go on his love for adobo, and you refuse to let down your stance that sinigang is superior. amid your friendly argument, you started to tickle miles to get him to let up his side. miles cried out for you to stop tickling him through peals of laughter as you laughed alongside him and tickled him even more. your siblings were watching you both by the door and squealing in delight to themselves as they took out their phones to film and capture this moment, while also debating on which ship name would be better for you two.
your tickle fight with miles wasn't one-sided, as miles tickled you back with full force, causing you to squeal out in laughter as you tried to subdue him. your siblings watched the whole scene unfold, and their hopes that you two would get closer was fulfilled when miles accidentally got on top of you as his tickling got a little out of hand. you both quit tickling each other and laughing as you were both now face-to-face with each other so up close. "i... i can, um, sorry. i-i'll get off now." miles stuttered in embarrassment as he tried to get off you, but you held him by the shoulders and gently pulled him back down closer to you. "huwag, ah... please stay." you pleaded with him as your face felt hotter as you pulled him closer.
miles smiled as he got more flustered in the face and did as you asked him to. "alright, but you'll admit adobo is better, right?" he asked you in a teasing voice as you cursed him out playfully and smacked him lightly on the arm. your siblings couldn't handle it anymore and squealed loudly as you two got closer. they screamed in utter delight at how adorable you two looked, and as you heard them, you momentarily got off from under miles and creaked the door open slowly as your siblings celebrated your admission of feelings towards him--well, almost admission of feelings, at least.
you coughed loudly, which made your siblings turn to face you slowly, as a raging fire was kindled up in your eyes, you screamed at them and told them to hand you their phones and never to speak of what they witnessed to any living soul, ever. "SINASABI KO SA INYO, MUMULTUHIN KO KAYO, KAHIT PAG PATAY NA AKO, 'PAG PINAKITA NINYO SA KAHIT SINO YAN, HUMANDA KAYO SAKIN!" you exclaimed as your siblings ran away from you, with miles poking his head out the door as he watched you hunt down your siblings and see them begging for mercy from you as you waved your slippers around to scare them even more. he chuckled as he leaned against the door frame, calling out to them, "hey, send me the videos and pics! i gotta have a copy of them!"
you berated miles from a distance as you kept threatening your siblings never to tell your parents or anyone about what they saw. though miles doesn't mind if anyone else knew about you two like that... he'd like to know from you yourself how much further this 'friendship' between you two will go.
#miles morales#earth 1610 miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x filipino reader#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales fluff#earth 1610 miles morales fluff#atsv#atsv x filipino reader#atsv fluff#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#atsv imagines#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader
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What about virgin Cass and Rhys the absolute menaces 😂 I wonder how that would go.
Omg thank you for asking!! Let’s explore this can of worms 🥴😈
Rhys is the first to lose his virginity because he’s the High Lords son. He’s flirtatious and smooth. He’s like Dorian at the beginning of tog, sweet and chivalrous but a horn dog with many lovers. He used to flirt with the daughters of nobility who were older than him and he loved making them blush.
Women have always found him beautiful and he could tell bc of how they reacted but also bc of his daemati powers. So Rhys has quite the ego even before he’s ever bedded a female. He’s considerate and attentive but keeps his emotions to himself and doesn’t get attached.
His first time is with a Lord’s daughter from his father’s court. He absolutely kept it to himself that it was his first time lmao. He’s very exploratory and isn’t shy about it. Obviously he’s not as good at it as he becomes later, but his curiosity alone helps him satisfy the girl bc he wants to try so much, even if he’s already finished.
Like not to get too explicit but even if he got his, he’d be eager to do a lot of other things literally out of curiosity and that gets the job done for the girl. Rhys tells Cassian all about it after. Cassian listens carefully and wants to bed a woman at that point.
So Cass was the second. Less confident than Rhys but a gentle giant even as a young man. I see him being super into girls and flirting openly, talking himself up and when he actually manages to talk a girl into taking him home, he’s more in over his head than he anticipated. His sweetness makes up for the fact that he didn’t make the girl finish. Months later when he gets good at it, he goes back to her to satisfy her properly.
I can see Cass getting slightly emotionally attached to the girl he loses his virginity to, but he gets over it eventually. Cass goes back to the same lovers more frequently than Rhys does, and we know canonically that he’s the only one that’s had a serious relationship before.
Cassian and Rhys have an easier time showing their sweeter side to women in bed compared to Az, especially if they’re softer or shyer girls. Cassian would be more sweetness and Rhys is more charm, if that discernment makes sense. Cassian would be keenly aware of his hulking frame and try very hard to make it comfortable.
His and Azriel’s first times were at Windhaven with the girls at the camp. There was probably a lot of unabashed talk amongst the other young Illyrians at the camp about fucking women, and that’s where the guys learn about sex, so when they finally do it, they have a rough idea of what’s expected.
Though I feel like I did Az justice in my fic, I think it would likely be a little clumsier irl unless he lucked out and did it w a girl who knew what she was doing. I think he’d be eager to please and do it relatively well, but his more reserved nature would prevent much communication, and he’d be nervous for sure. He’d want to be gentle but wouldn’t quite know the words to say, but the intention is certainly there.
The main thing I tried showing in the fic is that he’s literally never known intimacy or gentleness, like he went from his prison cell to war camp. So when it comes to bedding a woman, he’s gonna be really taken aback by how soft it can be. He’d learn through practice over the years that there is gentleness to be found in intimacy.
I don’t see him being in literally any relationship outside of hookups bc he’s been in love w Mor for centuries, so a lot of his experiences with women and femininity comes from sex. He learns about being a gentleman from that. So sex becomes highly exploratory for him. That’s when he starts getting a little wilder lol but that comes a whileeee later.
He's very attentive and notices every detail and gets good at it pretty fast even if he doesn’t talk about it as freely as Cass or Rhys do. I see him using his shadows to help determine if the girl is enjoying herself.
Cassian tells feyre literally the day they meet her that he, Rhys, and Az all love fucking so this is absolutely an area Azriel let’s himself indulge in, especially bc he knows such little intimacy in his life outside sex.
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cw: Tapu Bulu! Nanu
“I heard that having red eyes is said to be good luck on Ula'Ula island,” a tourist eagerly clamoured to your tired lover, “It means… you're a descendant of the Tapu, right?” You held back a giggle as you and Nanu stood in front of Sushi High Roller together, having just had a lunch date. A tourist eagerly caught sight of Nanu and rushed over to share the not entirely incorrect information. Having red eyes on Ula'Ula did usually mean you were a descendant of the Tapu, yes. Nanu was not one of them, however.
“That so?” he replied with a head tilt, “You'd think he'd quit then. There's a lot of people with red eyes around Malie alone.” Your face burned a bit with the look he shot you. The tourist seemed even more eager.
“Do you think you're especially lucky? I had read the Tapu on this island is nicer than the others,” he eagerly recited some information from the library about the different personalities of the Tapu. You felt your embarrassment fade with the return of amusement. Nanu cocked a brow up at his words, clearly already exhausted by this.
“I feel like I have pretty bad luck,” he shrugged. The tourist gasped, clearly intrigued by this change. Well, you would say he had extremely good luck, but you supposed you could see how he viewed it as bad, seeing as he was currently being questioned about his descendants by a complete stranger. Most tourists, including yourself at one point, had no idea that this seemingly tired old man was actually the Tapu of Ula'Ula island.
Was having red eyes good? When asked, the Tapu himself would say all being related to him gave someone was too many kids and a green thumb. An unfortunate side effect of being a vegetation and abundance deity was that he was also associated with fertility, making his choice in a physical appearance even more funny.
The tourist turned to you with a polite smile. “Er, are you his child?” he asked, “Or, well, maybe grandchild? Do you think you have good luck?” You nearly snorted. Nanu even tensed a little at that one. Most locals were fully aware of your relationship with the Tapu, but most other people just assumed some form of familial relationship.
“I'm his partner,” you corrected easily. The tourist's face went bright red as he looked away in shame and shock. A chuckle came from Nanu. His hand came to rest on the small of your back as wore one of his rare grins. “... I'd say he has pretty bad luck, too, but I can assure you that he isn't a descendant of the Tapu,” you decided to show some compassion for the poor guy. Everyone was allowed to be a little interested in Alolan culture.
The tourist nodded but looked at Nanu again before gasping. “W-wait if that guy isn't a descendant of the Tapu, could he actually be…?” The idea that the land spirit guardian of Ula'Ula was some old guy tended to leave people in shock. You included, of course. Nanu did not react to his words. He already was bothered enough by a certain girl sending a bunch of people to him, insisting it was his duty to help.
“Who knows?” you shrugged, “He is the Kahuna, though, so you can bother him for directions.” Nanu shot a glare that screamed in contradiction with your words, making you laugh a bit. Leaning against him, you both departed from the tourist and the restaurant.
Honestly, considering the poor old man's increased libido from his domains, you supposed it was luck he did not have more descendants than he already did. There would probably be as many of them as there were Meowths on Ula'Ula if he did not have some luck.
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Hi there! Your writing is awesome!!! I love your headcanons and fics as they feel so spot on ❤️❤️❤️
I have a request if you are accepting - imma be angsty today - do you have any headcanons for Gintoki when he realizes he loves someone who was in love with him too late?
Thank you for this awesome blog!!! Makes my day to see posts!
A/N: Hi! It's been ages since I've done a request, but I was feeling generous (bad about being this lazy) and thought I'd give it a shot! Turned out more like a mini thing than headcanons lmao oops. HOPE THIS WAS GOOD ENOUGH, HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING FOR GINTOKI IN AGES, and THANK YOU FOR YOUR WONDERFUL WORDS! Hearing such lovely words is enough to make my day!
Warning: Didn't proofread .-. Angst
Gintoki was a bastard. Nothing new or foreign in particular. Everyone acquainted to the silver-haired samurai could name at least 10 negative traits of his, struggling to name just one good quality that would redeem him.
Everyone, except of you, that was. You didn't see Gintoki as the lazy, parasitic, sleazy, sadistic, gambling-addicted drunkard (wow he really has a lot of negatives) they made him out to be. You saw Gintoki for the kindhearted man that he was. The one who went around risking the color of his soul just to save another. The one who was whatever those around him wanted him to be: a friend, a brother, a hero, and why not a lover?
Admiration turned into Infatuation, tricking your heart into thinking you loved him. You'd linger around Yorozuya, offloading whatever menial task you could think of just for the chance to see him. Be it cleaning the leaves from your porch, killing that one cockroach that had sneaked in (one that had him running laps around the house while screaming for help) and even being your plus one to the wedding of a friend.
You dreamed of a day when you wouldn't have to come up with excuses for his company, and seeing as there were only so many times you could call him up to unplug your toilet before you ran low on cash, you decided to pour your heart out.
Kagura and Shinpachi knew. So when you asked Gintoki if he could meet you at your place on his own, they dolled him up and sent him your way with a "Good Luck" whose meaning he didn't quite understood until he saw you cradling a heart shaped box of chocolates-- plush cheeks flushing red, while pink lips curved into a shy smile.
"Gin-toki," the name shattered on your tongue. "I... I love you. Go out with me, please."
He stared at you for quite a while, as if you'd just uttered the world's most complicated joke. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or ask you if he knew what kind of crap you'd spat, and him being eager to verify his reputation chose the second.
"The yard seems clean enough to me. I'll be going now," he said, rejecting not just you, but the boxes of chocolate as it fell open onto the ground.
The next few hours were the hardest. Sleeping on the same pillow where you daydreamed all about your future with him felt like sleeping on glasses of your shattered dreams. Not even an answer, not a single explanation. He'd broken your heart with such ease that it terrified you. How plausible was it that in this new era of canine looking Amanto and flying cars some alien had taken over his body and wore it around like a heart-less, soul-less puppet?
Denial.
It was easier to deny all that had transpired and pretended it never happened. You even passed by Yorozuya the next morning, willing to give this another chance, telling yourself that man wasn't Gintoki. But when you saw his apathetic face reading the newest Jump and picking his nose even in your presence, you couldn't stop the tears from streaming down your puffy eyes.
Anger.
It didn't take long for you to join the ranks of Gintoki's haters, seeing the man as nothing short of the Devil himself. Every terrible thing that happened, you pinned on him. Bumping onto the kitchen cabinet? He was jinxing you from afar. Running out of gas in the middle of town? He must have stolen it while you were asleep. A terrorist attack nearby? Weren't those goons Gintoki's old war-pals? Every natural phenomena, every misfortune of this world and the next was Gintoki's fault. Love? The mere notion that you once loved him made you laugh. Hatred was all you had left.
Bargaining
With each passing day, you felt your fury redirecting at you, gnawing and clawing at your insides, while small "What If's" plagued your mind like maggots. What if you hadn't confessed that day? What if instead of your place you'd called him to a restaurant? What if you'd gotten a different brand of chocolates? What if--
Depression
You couldn't remember when the last time you'd gotten out of bed was. Balled up tissues framed the four corners of the room, the tears contained in them enough to cause a shipwreck. You didn't want to see anyone anymore, afraid that if you did you'd spot a resemblance between them and the man your heart longed to see the most. You didn't hate him anymore... you missed him. You missed the sound of his name so badly that it threaded itself between pitiful chokes and sobs like a rosary.
You missed him.
Acceptance
The days in your calendar kept shifting until a month had passed. Taking baby steps, you'd done your best to return to an inchoate routine. You woke up, washed your teeth, showered, checked the functionality of your toilet's flush, ate breakfast and went to work, where you stayed until the stack of paperwork diminished, and until you were rewarded for your efforts in the form of a promotion. Your coworkers cheered for you, and for a moment life felt good again because you'd stopped searching for the familiar hue of a silver mop.
You were fine.
The route Gintoki took to and from the pachinko parlor he frequented was predetermined. On hot days, he'd stop by that one ice cream joint with the world's greatest (and most affordable) soft serve. On cold days, he'd trade that for a warm bowl of red bean soup. Then he'd be on his way to the convenient store to grab the latest Jump and finish his day with a drink at the old hag's place.
Gintoki always took the same route, except of that one day he hadn't. The worn-out soles of his black boots carried him in the opposite direction of all those places and even home, bringing him to stand outside the two-floor house with the porch that needing cleaning regardless of season; your house.
He hadn't heard anything from you since God knows how long, and why would he? No one needed to remind him how much of a jerk he'd been, for the words in his brain repeated like a broken record he couldn't afford fixing. He was worse than a jerk. A despicable caricature of a man that couldn't own to the fact that he'd grown fond of you the same way you'd come to love him.
The look of absolute endearment whenever your eyes spotted him, a look that didn't change despite the crudeness of his actions. He loved that. The shaky fluctuations in your tone whenever he'd sit close enough to feel your hair tingling his face. He loved that, too. The smile that shone as bright as the sun itself and the little hand that waved at him -gosh, how he longed to hold that hand in his and compare the difference in size- goodbye. He loved that all so much. Too much. He loved you.
Or else why would he be standing out there when his beloved weather girl had issued a thunderstorm warning?
With his hands buried in his pockets, Gintoki circled the picket fence of your porch, head tilting between the wooden cracks at a chance to see your face. How was he supposed to start? Would an apology do? Would letting himself be beaten by that rusty rake or drenched from head to toe by your garden's hose do? How many "I love you's" would he need to spell out to convince you he was any less of a bastard than you made him out to be? What would it take for your forgiveness?
His fingers weaved through locks of silver, threatening to pluck them out. If he told you the truth, that he thought you deserved something better than a basket case samurai with no more than 300 yen in his name, he'd seem like a complete idiot. If he told you that the ghosts of the past he'd tried so hard to evade were catching up to him, you'd mistake him for a coward. And if he selfishly grabbed your hand and forced it against his chest, he knew he'd never be able to hear the three little words that directly countered those you'd said before.
"Gintoki, what are you doing here?"
The track of guilt gave way to the sweetest melody known to his ears, hope daring spur him on. He wore his gentlest smile and turned around to face you, the same hope digging like a knife inside his wretched heart at the sight of fingers -ten, in total- intertwined together, five of them belonging to you and the other to a man whose face didn't matter. All that mattered was the joy plastered on your pursed lips, one he saw fade away the second your eyes locked. One that was meant for him no more.
"The yard seems clean enough to me," he pointed beyond the fence, boots diving in the first of Ketsuno Ana's warnings as the sorrowful record resumed.
"I'll be going now."
#gintoki imagine#gintoki oneshot#gin oneshot#gin imagine#gintama#gintama oneshot#gintama fanfiction#gintama imagine#anon requests#gintoki x reader#gin x reader#sakata gintoki#gintoki sakata#gintoki angst#gin angst#gintama angst
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🥳 Happy Birthday to beautiful Jan Shepard! 🎂
Born Josephine Angela Sorbello on March 19, 1928, Jan is turning 96 years young today. ♥
Jan Shepard interviewed by Joe Krein (2007)
Joe: Can you tell me a little about yourself, where you were born and raised?
Jan: I was born in a little town called Quakertown, Pennsylvania, in Bucks County. It’s about 40 miles north of Philadelphia. I had a wonderful time there growing up, it was a tiny little town and everybody knew everybody. You got to do everything when you were in high school. I was a cheerleader and a drum majorette. I was in drama. I loved growing up there.
(...)
Joe: Did you want to become an actress?
Jan: Ever since I was in second grade I was Miss Cleanliness, in a way. I got up on that stage and something happened. I saw all those people and it made me want to do something nice. So I did two class plays. I did junior high and senior class plays as the leading lady. I did summer stock when I got out of high school. I did that for quite a while and that was great fun.
Joe: So did you go to Hollywood and say “I want to be a star”?
Jan: I went to New York first and I got a terrible cold. I had gotten a reference from Samson Raferson, who did a lot of plays. He lived in our area. He sent me to Sherill Crawford doing Brigadoon. So I went there and I could barely talk. You think to yourself once they see you that you would be in Broadway by the weekend. You just think that they are waiting for you. But she said go back home and do summer stock. Do as much as you can of that. It was one of those things that you are so eager and you had no clue as of how to become an actor. So I went back home and then I had a chance to visit some relatives in California. So I never went back to New York.
Joe: So what studio did you sign up with?
Jan: I did some things with 20th Century, but mostly I did television like ABC, CBS and then Paramount. So I was working all the time. The kids that were under contract with Paramount, they had a class picture taken, and I wasn’t in it because I was the only one working. Will never forget that. How I wish I was in that picture.
Joe: You must see a lot of turn over, kids coming and then going home.
Jan: Yeah. You know there is a lot of wonderful talent walking the street, and honestly it’s a matter of luck. Plus it helps with who you know. What helped me was I moved in with Amanda Blake from Gun Smoke. We shared an apartment and Ross Hunter had an apartment in the same building. I was working a regular job then. We would walk together in the morning to work. There was an agent that also lived in the building. I was out sunning myself one day and he came over and started talking. He said, “Do you need an agent?” I said yes. That’s how it all started. Quite by accident.
Joe: You worked in television?
Jan: About 500 episodes. I did so much television. I did so many pilots and series. One of my first series was with McDonald Carrie, who was Doctor Christian. I was a regular on that show. I did two soap operas. Day in Court and Clear Horizons. I did so many Westerns. Every show that was in the fifties and sixties, seventies. At least five hundred television shows.
(...)
Joe: Were you an Elvis fan?
Jan: No (laughing).
Joe: Don’t feel bad, a lot of people have said that to me.
Jan: It was so funny because I was sitting with Dan Duriah. I was doing a two hour film. We were sitting on the set. I had the reporter in front of me and it said “ELVIS PRESLEY”. “What kind of a name is that?” He said, “I don’t know.” I said there’s some kid in the south called Elvis Presley. I said he’s never going to make it (laughing). That was the first time that I had ever heard of him. So I didn’t know who he was. I happened to like his voice. I liked his voice but I am not the kind of person who is adoring movie stars. There was maybe one or two that I adored or would like to work with, but I was never like those type of people. But once I met him, I just adored him.
Joe: When did you find out that you were going to do an Elvis film?
Jan: I was doing a play at Paramount, with Dolores Hart, who is my goddaughter. She is now a nun.
Joe: Oh, yes, I know who she is.
Jan: She used to be under contract with Hal Wallis. Dolores came up to me after work. She said, “Jan, there is a part in this movie I am going to do with Elvis Presley you would be perfect for. The part would be playing his sister.” I said, “Yeah, right, terrific.” I just let it go at that. But the next thing I know she calls me and says Hal Wallis wants to see you. “I’ve talked to him about you.” So I went up there. He said to me, “I would like you to make a test.” So they gave me the script. When I arrived at the studio, there was four other girls that were testing. I figured I would be the only one. I was in shock, I almost walked out. Peter Baldwin, who was playing the Elvis role, who was a friend of mine, he said, “Stay, stay. These other girls are no way better than you.” I was the last one to be tested. After I just went home and prayed that I would get this role. I got it!
Elvis, Jan and Dolores Hart on set during making of King Creole, 1958.
Joe: And this was for...? King Creole! That was Elvis’s favorite movie. Plus it’s the fans favorite movie. It’s also mine.
Jan: Yes, it’s mine, too. But I have only seen two movies of his. I only saw them because I was in them. That’s nothing to do with Elvis. It’s just because I was working all the time. I was doing soap operas. Different scripts every day, learning new lines every day. You just don’t have the time to go out and see movies. I had no social life at all. If you do have five minutes on a weekend, you want to sleep.
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Joe: Can you tell me how you met Elvis?
Jan: When you’re assigned a film role, you have to go to the doctor, because of the insurance company. They have to make sure you don’t have a bad heart, any of that nonsense. They made my appointment for me at the studio, so I was there and I had on a white shirt and these slacks my mother had made for me that were like wine coloured. I went in the office and I was waiting to be called in. In walks Elvis with two of his buddies. I looked at him and he looked at me and we started to laugh. His jacket was the identical material and colour of my slacks. He looked at me and he said, “Honey, I’m either going to have to give you my jacket or you’re going to have to give me your pants” (laughing). That was my first meeting with Elvis.
Joe: Goodness.
Jan: Girl scout’s honour.
Joe: Did you get along with Elvis?
Jan: Oh, wonderful. He said if he had a sister, he wished it would be me. We got along so great because we worked alone the two of us the whole first week of the show. I would come to work and I would find on the set a pair of earrings he put there for me that cost about ten cents that he had liberated from the set. I have a marvelous picture where we are waiting to perform and we were just sitting down at the dining room table. I handed him this jewelry and I said I can’t take these from you, Elvis, you know it’s too much. You’re the last of the big spenders. He is there laughing so hard and they snapped this picture of the two of us. It’s a fabulous picture of him. But he would do little things like that. And he would play music on his guitar. He would ask me what I wanted to hear. Elvis loved Danny Boy.
Joe: Did you ever date Elvis?
Jan: No, I was married (laughing).
Joe: Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that.
Jan: No, I was married, honey. But the thing was: Dolores Hart gave me a surprise birthday party. All the kids from Paramount studio were there. It was a big surprise to me. I was there for about ten minutes and in walks Elvis with the boys. He had this huge stuffed tiger under his arm. He knew I loved cats, so he had this stuffed cat and he named it Danny Boy. He gave me this big box. For weeks I had been asking Elvis for pictures that I could give the kids in my neighborhood when they had heard I was doing a picture with him. They all pleaded for photos of him. So I would always ask him for pictures for the kids. “Come on, please, I need pictures.” So he hands me this box and I placed it off to the side. He said, “Oh, no, you need to open that now.” So I opened it and it was a movie camera with a light bar and film. He said, “Now you can take your pictures.” You know if Colonel Parker was there, he would not had allowed that.
Early 1958. Elvis and Jan during surprise birthday party to Jan Shepard.
Joe: Oh, you’re right.
Jan: Dolores said the next day she ran into Elvis and she said, “I was so surprised that you came.” He said I had to come, “She’s my sister. I wouldn’t miss her birthday party” (laughing). I ran into him in the studio. He said to me, “I hear Elvis was at your birthday party.” “Yeah, he was”. He said, “You know he never goes anywhere, people go to him, he never goes to other people’s homes.”
Joe: That’s very true.
Jan: I said I think we bonded a little bit.
Joe: Was Elvis a good actor?
Jan: Wonderful! Oh, just marvelous! I will never forget. You know every person that sings is a good actor. Because they have the sense of timing, the sense of rhythm, a sense of what words mean. He was a brilliant actor because he didn’t need any advice. He knew automatically what to do and act, as the show was going on. I kept saying to him, “Oh, Elvis, for God sake, you’re doing such a great job.” So one day we went for lunch. We were sitting there at a table and in walks Marlon Brando. Elvis was sitting with his back towards him. There was a table right behind Elvis that was empty, so Brando saw Elvis as soon as he walked in. So Brando got into the chair right behind Elvis. I said to Elvis, “Marlon Brando is sitting behind you.” Elvis said, “Oh, my God” and his head sunk into his sandwich. I said, “Look, he wants to meet you, I saw him looking at you, just say hi to him.” Well, that’s exactly what happened. He got up and bumped his chair. Marlon stood up and the two of them shook hands. They did a little small talking. Elvis was very cool. Elvis then walked out of the café very cool. But the minute we got outside he leaped up. He couldn’t believe he met Marlon Brando. He was so excited, we just danced all the way back to the studio. Then one day after the show had been released, someone sent me the review of King Creole. The title was “Bourbon Street Brando.” I raced over to Paramount and I grabbed Elvis and I said, “Look at this.” I showed him the “Bourbon Street Brando”, he just couldn’t believe it. I said, “See, I told you, you were going to be great in this!” Joe, Elvis was!
Scene of King Creole, 1958. Elvis as Danny Fisher and Jan Shepard as Mimi Fisher, Danny's sister.
Joe: Now you did another movie with Elvis.
Jan: Yes, Paradise Hawaiian Style
Note: In Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966) Jan Shepard played Betty Kohana, wife of Danny Kohana played by actor James Shigeta who's a friend and eventual business partner of Elvis' character Rick Richards.
Joe: Can you tell me about that movie and how you got the part?
Jan: I had gone over to Paramount to have lunch with Dolores Hart. She was getting a wardrobe fitting for some picture. I ran into Paul Mason. He said, “Hi”. He asked what was I doing there. He said, “Hey, we need a wife for Jimmie Sakita for a movie Elvis is doing. Would you be interested?” He said, “It’s not a huge part, but it’s a good part.” I said, “Yeah, ok.” He told me to go up and see Hal Wallis. “I will give him a call and tell him you’re coming.” So I went up there. Well, Hal Wallis’s office is full of art. He has originals of Remington’s and Chares Russell, all those wonderful western painters. I walked in and I said, “Oh, my God, you have a Remington!” I knew art because my husband is an artist. Hal Wallis was very impressed, he asked me if I wanted that role? Yeah, fine, that would be wonderful! That’s how I got the part.
Joe: Now what did Elvis say when he saw you?
Jan: Well, the minute he saw me he asked how was Dolores because now she has been a nun for the past year. And I said she was good, I’ve seen her, I’ve gone there. And Maria Cooper, Gary’s daughter and I were the godmothers for her when she went into the monastery. And I said, “I’ve been there and she’s doing great and she, you know, I said you know if they let me wear eyelash mascara, I’d go in that place and say it’s beautiful. She’s home. This is where she wants to be and he wanted to see if she was okay and how you were doing. You know, and I noticed he was not the Elvis that was the little teddy bear that would run across the stage and pick up and swing you around. He was not that anymore.
Joe: He changed?
Jan: He was never in his dressing room and you know King Creole. He is always out with a group and having fun and playing the guitar and, you know, just a lot of fun. And he went to his dressing room and it was closed and I noticed he was drinking a lot of water. He had lot of glasses of water and he was drinking. Also, there was an attitude that was so different. He was kind of jaded and at the movies, he and I knew Charlie Afura who did all his choreography. Charlie was showing him something on stage, some dance moves or something, and he was just looking at Charlie, like “Charlie, I’ve done this four or five times already. I know what you want,” because it was the same movie every time.
Joe: Right.
Jan: He was always doing the same movie and I know he was tired of it.
(...)
Joe: When was the last time you saw Elvis?
Jan: I saw him in Las Vegas. We went to a Casers Palace and I was so disappointed because he was into the karate stuff and he was turning his back to the audience all the time. And I just wanted to just go up there and spank him, you know.
Joe: Yeah.
Jan: Because he was just not him. You know. I think that when his mom died, that was just a terrible blow and that if she had lived Elvis would still be alive today.
Joe: Yeah. When you were working in the movies, did you have the chance to have one on one conversations?
Jan: Oh, yeah, all the time. Especially on the Creole, but not as much on Paradise Hawaiian Style. Yeah, like on the weekend it had rained all weekend and on Monday morning when Elvis came into the makeup room and I said, “Well, what did you do this weekend?” “I was on the phone with my mom all day, I didn’t go anywhere.” He told me one time they were on the road and they stopped at a diner, this was in the fifties. This big guy came over to him and picked him up by his shirt. He said, “I don’t like you”. Elvis said, “What’s wrong?” “My wife carries your picture around in her wallet.” Elvis said, “Hey, sir, I’m sorry, but that has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry, she should do that.” He let Elvis down and they took off. He had so much of that we had to fake people out when Elvis left the studio. We would send out a limo, the fans figured Elvis was in it. But Elvis was getting shoved into a taxi in the back of the studio. Elvis would be laying on the floor. Elvis said, “I know they don’t mean to do it, but sometimes they hurt me. They grab at me, pull my hair”. They have scratched his eye while trying to get some of that beautiful black hair. “I’ve been hurt,” Elvis said. “That’s why I don’t go anywhere.” We had a lot of conversations. One time I said to Elvis, “Why don’t you record Danny Boy?” He loved that song because he would sing it to his mom. Elvis said, “They don’t want that. They won’t let me sing something like that.” It was so funny, one day Pat Boone came walking on the set. Elvis spotted him and he started singing April Love, just the way Pat would sing it. Pat just grinned from ear to ear, Pat then came over and they met. But he never had the chance to become apart of the young Hollywood scene, because he was afraid to go out with the other young people who were at the studio. If he went to go to a movie, he had to rent the whole theatre. You know, Elvis never had a dime on him, he would follow me to the apple machine. I said to him, “You want an apple, right?” “Yes, please” (laughing). He never had any money.
Joe: I know that to be true all the way up to the seventies. His men would carry his money and his keys. When did you hear that Elvis had passed?
Jan: I was sitting with a friend at her business. The phone rang and they asked if I was there. They asked me if I had the radio on or had been watching television. I said no, why? “Elvis died.” I just couldn’t talk. When I was able to talk, I said I was so angry at him. I was so angry I could not even cry. Because he was doing all the wrong things and he knew he was, damn it! I could see that when I went to see him in Vegas. I said to myself, “That’s not my Elvis.”
Joe: But you know the man was the greatest entertainer of the 20th century.
Jan: There will never be another like him. In the Creole days he was just a big teddy bear. I asked him one time, “Ok, Elvis, when did all this swinging your hips start? Why do you do that?” “I do it for fun, I know just when to break it off.” I used to watch the little negro boys in his town, how they would sit on the curbs and sing. And they would stand up and dance. He said that’s where he got that from. They would sing and move their hips.
(...)
Joe: Well, I would like to thank you for talking to me today.
Jan: You’re welcome, Joe.
Phone interview with Jan Shepard, done by Joe Krein, on June 22, 2007. YOU CAN READ THE FULL INTERVIEW ON: ELVIS100PERCENT.COM
youtube
Early 1958. Home movie. Birthday party to Jan Shepard. ♡
#imagine having elvis at your birthday party#happy birthday#jan shepard#i love sharing my birthday with someone in the Elvis universe#my birthday pal ♡#elvis presley#king creole#1958#Youtube
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All I Wanted, Chapter One
Rating: Explicit because Smut, Light Angst
Rolan x AFAB, Unnamed Tav
Read on AO3
After the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, Tav has stayed in touch with Rolan and his siblings. She visits weekly to volunteer at Ramazith Tower as a healer for the refugees in the city. Her growing crush on the wizard finally comes to a head one night, along with a healthy dose of miscommunication and misunderstanding.
Alternating Tav/Rolan POV each chapter
Multiple planned chapters coming :)
Chapter 1: Hide and Seek
Tav’s heart raced with a childlike glee she hadn’t felt in so long. She prowled the halls of Ramazith Tower looking for the perfect hiding spot in the dark with only candlelight and occasional flashes of lightning through the window to guide the way. The storm that had caused this impromptu late-night gathering still raged on outside. A giggle bubbled up in her throat — a product of wine and an eager anticipation she couldn’t quite explain.
For the months that followed the fall of the Elder Brain she had stayed one night a week at the tower with Rolan, Cal, and Lia. Always on the night when she came into town to provide healing services to the refugees. She’d been working out of a stall on the shop floor of Sorcerous Sundries that Rolan had helped her set up as an apothecary of sorts. All the ingredients she used in her healing were grown by her on the small farm she’d set up just outside the city. There she grew flowers, herbs, vegetables, and additional plant reagents needed for healing and magic. It was a good life, all things considered, the only problem was Rolan.
The way Rolan had protected his family from the hellish descent of Elturel and the cult of the Absolute had caused Tav to develop an attraction to the tiefling that she had found impossible to smother out. Even though he had been outright rude to her during a lot of it. The handsome wizard occupied her thoughts even when she was away from him and the tower. She found her mind drifting to him at the strangest times. The dulcet tone of his voice lingered in her thoughts and dreams. Even now that she was free of the tadpole and a so-called hero, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Rolan how she felt. He’d been through more in the last few years of his life than anyone should have to experience. The idea of burdening him with her feelings felt so selfish that she had resigned herself to a painful silence. He seemed happier now than ever before and she didn’t want to ruin that.
On this night in town, a particularly bad storm had whipped up off the Sea of Swords and settled on the city around dinner time. Tav and the siblings had been joined for dinner by Dammon, Lakrissa, and Alfira in celebration of Alfira’s birthday. It had been a lovely dinner party for the group, Tav couldn’t help but look around at the tables pushed together filled with her found family with such joy. The plan was to head to the Elfsong Tavern for drinks and dancing after dinner, but with the storm looking downright dangerous they had decided against it. Instead, Lia cleverly suggested they raid the wine cellars and have a party of their own. Hours and bottles of wine later, it was the birthday girl herself who pointed out the Tower made for excellent grounds for a game of hide and seek.
The idea was met with laughter at first. Much to everyone’s surprise it had been Rolan who first agreed with Alfira.
“There are a few places that are off limits, because they aren’t safe yet. But I don’t see why not?” He’d noted. Alfira, seated in Lakrissa’s lap had clapped with joy at the unexpected second.
Lakrissa relented to her girlfriend’s giddiness and the rest of the gathering had agreed with sudden excitement. With the ground rules in place, together they threw back one more glass of wine for good luck. Cal had agreed to go first, he had a good knowledge of the tower and suggested a 10-minute head start. Which is how Tav found herself racing through the dark halls of Ramazith Tower in a thunderstorm, looking for a place to hide.
It had only very recently occurred to the Druid as she cursed herself internally, that she was not particularly good at hiding. She thought back fondly to Astarion yelling some such thing at her during the Illithid crisis. At current she was relatively certain that 10 minutes had elapsed, and she could faintly hear Cal beginning to search on lower levels. She couldn’t tell if she was getting closer or further from him. In the shadows she took a moment to lean against the wall and breathe as she tried to think of what to do next. It seemed impossible for her to wander his home and not think of Rolan. Just like the other inopportune moments this occurred, she felt the tell-tale heat on her face. Try as she might to resist, the image of him appeared in her mind. How he’d smiled at her from across the table at dinner earlier and how it had made her heart heave as she wished it meant more.
The slamming of a door nearby brought her back to reality with a shock. She heard Cal mutter a curse much too close for comfort. Quiet as she could, she raced away from where she heard him. Turning down another hall, she knocked into a large frame on the wall. The ear-piercing scrape it made was so loud she was certain everyone in the tower had heard her hit it.
“Oh!” Cal exclaimed; she heard him break into a run in her direction. It was as if she forgot this was just a game, the way panic gripped her at the idea of being caught. She broke into a sprint turning down the next hall but was brought to a sudden halt as a hand shot out of a door and grabbed her by the arm. Tav was pulled into what must have been a small closet, she could only guess as it was completely dark. The arm that had pulled her in, wrapped around her waist and another clapped over her mouth as her back was pulled against the firm chest of someone taller than her.
“Shhh, it’s me,” Came Rolan’s voice in a whisper. Tav’s heart was gripped with a fear and joy so intense it threatened to stop beating. She found herself pressed against the very man she had been driven to distraction by. It was like one of her many daydreams come to life. One of her hands reflexively reached back and steadied herself on his thigh, she could feel the warmth of his body through his robes. From where her head was against his chest, she could hear his heartbeat quicken. The sound sparked a hope in her she’d tried desperately to abandon.
They could both hear the tell-tale commotion of Cal getting closer to their position. Rolan’s tail coiled around her legs to pull her flush with him as he gently shifted her back with him into the corner and away from the door.
“Trust me?” He whispered against the shell of her ear, causing a notable shiver to travel her body and twitch against his. She nodded against his hand still on her mouth and tried not to think about the heat of arousal growing in her gut.
Just as she heard Cal’s hand on the doorknob of their hiding place, Rolan whispered an incantation under his breath that she recognized as Invisibility. She heard him take a deep breath and hold it as the door swung open, she did the same through her nose. Light poured into the closet as Cal opened the door and looked around wildly. He held a candlelit lantern in one hand to illuminate his search. Tav was able to discern that she and Rolan were currently hidden in the corner of a small storage closet of some sort. There was room for them and a few bookshelves stacked with old tomes and scrolls, yet to be cataloged since Rolan’s promotion to Master of the Tower.
Cal’s eyes searched the the small space thoroughly as he muttered about how he could swear he’d heard someone, and his (well-founded) suspicions that people were cheating. He cocked an ear to listen keenly, Tav was terrified that her escalated heartbeat could be heard by his sharp ears. Just as she was sure they would be caught, Cal shrugged and turned around shutting the closet door behind him with a thud. She let out a slow but ragged exhale through her nose and could hear Rolan let out a quiet breath too. Neither of them spoke as they listened to make sure Cal left their position to continue his search elsewhere.
He still hadn’t let go of her. The wine in her veins turned every touch of his body against hers into electricity on her skin. She couldn’t help but shift her bottom against him as she adjusted her cramped position and a thrill raced up her spine as she heard his breathing turn strained. The hand over her mouth slowly traced it’s fingertips up her jaw and gently tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear as he leaned closer to her.
“What are you doing?” He hissed into her ear, his voice sounded tense and excited. She shivered against him once more this time drawing a small groan from the back of Rolan’s throat. His lips brushed against her ear, she moaned and ground herself firmer on him this time.
“R-Rolan,” She managed. The thrill that coursed through her body outweighed any shame she felt in her actions.
“You’re drunk.” He said through gritted teeth. His voice was low, and it resonated through her body leaving only desire behind.
“So are you,” She shot back in the sultriest whisper she could manage as she continued rubbing her butt on his now-hardening length. All she could think about was how badly she wanted him and how perfect his body felt against hers.
All at once Rolan released his hold on her and flipped her around to face him. With a firm but tender hand, he pushed her back against the wall of the closet. As his lips crashed into hers roughly and she let out a loud moan, she said a quick mental prayer that Cal had moved far away in his search. Her arms coiled around the back of his neck to pull him closer to her, not wanting to lose the feeling of his body against hers. Now that she knew how it felt she wasn’t sure how she’d been able to live so long without it. His tongue swept into her mouth, meeting hers and sharing the taste of the wine between them. He smelt of cedar and parchment, likely from his time spent hard at work in his library-like study. She rolled her body against his slightly, earning a groan from the wizard.
He broke from the kiss for a quick breath and then attacked under her ear and down her neck with kisses. Each just hard enough to make her moan and gasp, sometimes shuddering his name in quick breaths as the lust pulsed through her body threatening to consume her. She felt his knee shift between her legs separating them as he pressed his thigh against her clothed core, causing her to release a whine of need as her head dropped back against the wall. Delirious with lust now, she tried to shift away a little to regain some control but his hands moved down to her hips.
“Do you want me to stop?” He shifted his head back to search her face. Even in the dark her human eyes could make out the glowing fire of his, like an amber sunset she’d always found herself lost in. She shook her head no.
“Words, Tav, I want to hear you say it,” he said leaning down to press his lips directly against her ear again and getting another lusty whine in response.
“D-Don’t stop, Rolan, please.” She managed between gasps. Her mouth had latched on to where his collarbone was exposed by his casual untied shirt when he leaned in again.
He used his grip on her hips to grind her against his thigh slowly, helping her roll her body against his to seek her pleasure in the friction. She gasped at the delicious sensation of the unexpected ridges on his thigh against her drenched center. She heard Rolan laugh darkly against where he continued to lave wet kisses on her neck. Through the building lust in her body, she managed to reach out and take his hardened length in her hand, stroking him through his pants.
“Fuck, Tav,” He groaned, she stopped moving her hand for a second to make sure she hadn’t gone too far. “No, don’t stop, please,” he continued and ground himself into her hand.
She continued stroking him increasing the pressure and speed slightly. Earning a groan of ecstasy from Rolan that she felt inside her, like he’d thrown oil on the fire burning at her core. It had consumed her fully now, gone from her mind were the reasons this was a bad idea and the months she’d spent trying not to think about this man. She was so close to her finish already; she muffled her cries in the firmness of his clothed chest as she felt her peak start to overtake her. It was all she could do to silence her moans and cries for Rolan as she shuddered against his thigh. She still couldn’t bring herself to feel embarrassed yet about drunkenly grinding herself to completion against Rolan. Not when he made sounds like the ones he was making now. The groans and growls that she worked from his body were her singular focus.
All of her attention went into pleasuring Rolan as he lost control, nearing his finish. Her other hand pulled his head close to her mouth and she licked up his pointed ear with the tip of her tongue. A groan of need escaped him that filled Tav with satisfaction.
“Cum for me, Rolan,” She whispered into his ear and then kissed him hard on the lips. Like she could express all her feelings for this man in a single kiss. His hands gripped her hips so tight there would surely be bruises come morning as his body shivered and jerked. She swallowed his moans with her kiss as he came against her hand.
After a moment of ragged breaths, she noticed a heavy silence in the air. Like neither one of them were ready to speak and ruin the moment that had passed between them. He leaned his forehead against hers as he rubbed her shoulders soothingly. There was so much she wanted to tell him but the alcohol coursing through her veins made her hesitant about how it would come out. She didn’t want him to think this was a drunken hookup, but she didn’t want to humiliate herself either.
“We should get cleaned up,” Rolan said softly, finally breaking the silence between them. She nodded in response, realizing they were both now wearing sticky clothes in a closet during a game of hide and seek. He smiled at her and left a soft kiss on her forehead before casting Prestidigitation to clean the mess off their bodies and clothes.
“Neat trick,” She teased and then let out a loud yawn. She hadn’t realized she was so tired until the endorphins and adrenaline from their encounter had begun to decrease. The drowsiness of a night of drinking and revelry catching up with both of them at once. Even Rolan, who had looked like he was about to scold her but let out a sudden yawn in response. Without a word he used Dimension Door to whisk her to the guest bedroom she stayed in. He helped her settle under the covers and fetched a fresh jug of water for the nightstand, leaving a cup and a tonic that must be meant for hangovers out for her. As he turned to leave her hand shot out for his wrist and latched on.
“Will you stay?” She tried to ask without sounding like she was begging, knowing the opposite was true. In her heart she knew she’d beg him to stay if he asked.
In the clear light of the guest bedroom, she could see his face as he visibly wrestled with how to respond to her. She felt her heart smash into a million pieces at his hesitation. The hope that had buoyed her deflated.
“Never mind, just the alcohol talking,” she said quickly trying to safe face before he could humiliate her further.
“Are you sure?” He said looking suddenly bewildered.
“Yeah of course, my bad” She forced out with a stiff laugh and rolled over to face away from him so he couldn’t see the tears brimming in her eyes.
After a long, uncomfortable silence she heard him move across the room to leave, snuffing out candles along the way.
“Goodnight Tav,” She heard him whisper from the doorway.
She didn’t answer and hoped he would think she was already asleep — she didn’t want him to know she was crying instead.
#holy rolan empire#bg3 rolan#rolan fanfic#rolan x tav#bg3 smut#baldur’s gate fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#all I wanted ao3#kimberbohwrites#rolan nation
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🪞 Caelus x Mirror Caelus 🪞 It's Not Narcissim If Your Reflective Self Is Really Good At Flirting
Guinaifen...
Guinaifen Guinaifen Guinaifen... Caelus thought to himself as he was running through Fyxestroll Garden as fast as he could. A livestreamer wandering astray is never an ideal situation. They’re the absolute nosiest, and feel the need to get up close and personal with far too many dangerous situations risking their own lives just for the sake of chat reactions and follows. Worst case scenario, he would find himself too late to save her from becoming possessed by a stray heliobus.
That would most certainly be an amusing sight, however. A livestreamer sharing her body with a spirit, fighting for control of her own will. Imagine her attempting to do run of the mill chores. Or even get through a single level of a video game. That’s the type of content he wanted to see.
Probably something other people would like to see, too. Sounded a lot better than the jumpscares and overexaggerated screaming. Don’t a lot of people already do that, anyways?
Focus, he thought to himself. His main priority was making sure that, wherever she may be, Guinaifen was relatively safe and unharmed, no matter how amusing the idea of her becoming possessed may be.
He thought to check and see if her stream was live, hopefully to lead him on the right path. Perhaps he would luck out and catch her in a rather amusing situation for his own personal enjoyment. But Caelus swore that he was simply checking to see if he could find any leads.
Nothing. To be expected, given the current circumstances, though knowing Guinaifen, she wouldn’t in a million years pass up the opportunity to draw in some more followers.
After aimlessly wandering through the garden for some time, Caelus’s attention was caught by a rather strange looking circular mirror. As any normal person would do, he stopped to take a closer look at it. He saw just what he expected; an exact reflection of himself, mimicking his movements exactly. Caelus would move his head up, and his refection would replicate his movements in the exact same manner. Look down and around, his reflection didn’t skip a beat mimicking his actions.
You know, exactly like how mirrors are supposed to function, a concept that, in theory, should be nothing new for Almighty Galactic Batter Caelus.
Still, Caelus was fascinated by the mirror. Captivated, even. He was making rather good use of his time watching himself push aside his hair like some suave anime protagonist rather than investing these crucial moments into rescuing…who was it again? Nevertheless, surely a few short moments of amusement wouldn’t hurt.
Only this mirror didn’t exactly seem to be…functioning.
The reflection of Caelus winked at him, when he swore on his life that both of his eyes were wide open.
He either had them both open or both closed. Not one at a time. What exactly would he be trying to accomplish by winking in such a way to himself?
Perhaps he should’ve asked his reflection this question, as once more, when it had Caelus’s full attention, it shot him a seductive wink.
This reflection of his seemed to be quite appreciative of Caelus’s own beauty. Or was he simply appreciating himself? Bit of a gray area, he found himself in, but why not have a little bit of fun toying with some mirror that thinks it can do better than Caelus in the flesh?
Caelus pushed his hair aside and shot this eager reflection of his a half-lidded gaze, with the smirk of a man just begging to indulge himself. The reflection wasn’t one to back down from a fight, if you would call this one, and so it beckoned for him to come closer. Caelus, curious with the route that his seductive reflection was going to take with this, obeyed and moved closer. His face was practically against the glass now, and so his reflection seized the opportunity to reach its hand outside of the glass to gently stroke the side of his cheek, as if it was begging for a kiss.
Caelus moved his head away from the glass and wiggled his finger “nuh-uh,” signaling that his reflection was going a bit too fast for his liking.
Note that it being to his liking was a rather important factor in this…curious situation. Caelus was deliberately taking things slow with his reflection, not out of boredom to waste time for whatever reason, but rather, he wanted to savor the moment, as he was quite frankly enjoying this.
This reflection of his has got some serious game, and Caelus was finding himself more and more smitten with the smooth moves that his mirror twin possessed. And, not once did he stop to think as to why his reflection had a mind of its own. Clearly shows what his priorities are, doesn’t it?
For the entire time, the two of them had been completely silent. Their exchanges of love had been purely though gestures and gentle touch. Shouldn’t Caelus finally put his desires into words? In order to clear the air between them, eliminate any possible misunderstandings, and perhaps…finally be together?
The reflection was giving him a very inviting look. Caelus so desperately wanted to plunge into its arms and be treated to the time of his life, but he took a step back.
“You…” Caelus said, “just who are you exactly, attempting to ensnare me with the promise of your embrace?”
Caelus knew it was no mere “attempt.” As the two of them flirted with each other more and more, he could feel his heart rate increasing and his hands becoming sweaty. Almost as if he was being thrown off of his game due to some…rather distracting thoughts of longing and desire.
The reflection didn’t respond to his inquiry. Rather, it appeared to have laughed a little and give him yet another wink.
Caelus so very badly wanted to skip the slow-burner part and just dive straight in into its arms. But what little rationale that remained in his mind told him otherwise to wait.
And unfortunately, he was taking a step back not to reconsider the scope of his actions, but rather if the reflection would be willing to continue…whatever it was doing.
“A man of few words. Respectable, but I don’t have time to be second guessing myself with only your silent actions to go off of.”
The reflection tilted its head in curiosity.
“What I’m trying to ask you is, are your actions…genuine? Like, you’re not doing this for the sake of toying with me?”
The reflection laughed once again, as if to mock Caelus’s stupidity for his assumption. Of course, its actions were genuine! Would it really be teasing a specimen so irresistibly dashing without the intent to score big?
And Caelus would be silly to refuse such an enthusiastic invitation from an equally attractive individual as well. The gaze from the reflection’s eyes just screamed I want you, no, I need you, and Caelus had no choice but to gladly oblige. The temptation was too strong, and so he put his hand against the glass waiting for a signal from his newfound partner, and it copied his movements and placed its hand where his was.
By now, Caelus had completely forgotten that he was frantically running through Fyxestroll Garden trying to find…something. Regardless of what that something was, he found something far better than what he could possibly ask for. He rested his head against the glass and gently closed his eyes, satisfied that he was on track to tread a new path in his life with the reflection in the mirror. When he opened his eyes to look at it briefly, he saw that his reflection was giving him a rather devious smirk.
At the sight of this, Caelus could hardly contain his excitement. He focused on containing any and all urges he had, not allowing himself to act as rashly as his reflection did, initially. His immense concentration on suppressing his desires would ultimately cost him something far more valuable than his dignity, as the arm of his reflection reached out of the mirror, grabbed Caelus by his arm, and yanked him to the other side.
“You’re all mine now, my dear Caelus,” the heliobus said.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail fanfic#caelus#caelus x caelus#caelus x mirror caelus#a whole new meaning to loving yourself#fanfic#fanfiction
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The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 69 - Just Desserts
The Hot Girls take a break from fitness and have some brunch at a bar near their gym.
Ophelia's life update isn't the most cheery, but she's glad to have the support of her friends.
Libby: Feefs, I'm so sorry.
Becca: What a creep. Don't worry, guys like that always get what they deserve.
Ophelia: I hope so, but things don't always work out like they do in your books, Becca.
Becca: Don't remind me. Still waiting for Travis to tell me he's a secret prince.
Summer: Hector Laurent… That name sounds familiar. Guess I've heard you talk about him.
Ophelia: Well, I'd like to stop talking about him. He's not going to live rent-free in my mind.
Libby: Good for you, girl! Summer, how was the honeymoon?
Summer: It was perfect. I just wish I had one more vacation day from my doofus coworkers.
Libby: Aww, it can't be that bad!
Summer: My one caterer Mila is really getting on my nerves, considering how many complaints we get about her not actually cooking at her catering gigs.
Summer: Speaking of work, I've gotta head out. I've got a couple meetings at work today, so I'm going in early.
Ophelia gets up to hug her.
Ophelia: Bye, good luck!
Summer: Thanks, girly pop. Let us know if you need anything. Love you!
Summer got promoted to Head Caterer at Make-A-Dish shortly before she got engaged to Mark. She's settled into the role quite nicely. She loves bossing people around!
As she finishes up a call, Mila walks into her office.
Mila: Excuse me, Summer, but a potential client is here to see you.
Summer: I don't have my calendar pulled up. Did they give you a name?
Mila: Hector Laurent.
Summer: HECTOR LAURENT?!
That's why the name rang a bell.
Mila: I-I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?
Summer: For once, no. Send him in. I'm eager to talk to him.
Mila: Yes, ma'am.
Hector comes in, pleasant as ever.
Hector: This is a lovely office Miss…?
Summer: MRS. Eggleston. You must be Hector Laurent. I've heard a lot about you.
Hector: Good things, I hope!
Summer doesn't react to his joke.
Summer: Pull up a chair. Let's chat.
If Hector notices the stink eye Summer is giving him, he doesn't show it.
Hector: I've got a great business opportunity for you.
Summer: Enlighten me.
Hector: I run one of the most successful wedding venues out there and we're looking for a new caterer.
Summer: Fascinating.
Hector: This would be a great source of revenue for your catering team-
Summer: Oh, would it? I suppose technically it would be, since my employees would probably get a lot of money out of your pocket from harassment lawsuits.
Hector: Mrs. Eggleston, I-I don't-
Summer: Don't play dumb with me, Laurent. You thought word wouldn't get out that you tried to force your employee to woohoo you? If you think I'm sending my team into the lion's den, you're as stupid as that hat makes you look.
Hector: I think there's been a misunderstanding-
Summer: No, it's clear as day that you tried to take advantage of a woman you held a position of power over.
Hector: Who told you this? Was it Ophelia? You can't trust a word that harlot says!
Summer: Keep her name out of your damn mouth!
Hector: This is a highly unprofessional way to conduct business.
Summer: Good thing we're not conducting business then. Sounds like when this goes fully public, you won't have any clients for us to cater for anyway!
Hector: I'll gladly take my business elsewhere.
Summer: Good luck after the email I'm going to send out.
Hector: What's that supposed to mean?
Summer: Us caterers might be in competition with each other, but we do talk, you know.
Summer: No one going to send their employees to a known predator. I'm warning every restaurant from here to Sixam that you're not a safe client.
Hector: That's libel! I'll sue!
Summer: There was a witness to your misconduct. Plus, you knocked up an employee. You MADE evidence!
Hector: She didn't work for me at the time! My personal life has nothing to do with my business!
Summer: You sure made inappropriate workplace conduct your business!
Hector: You can't do this to me!
Summer: Blacklist you? Yeah, what kind of monster threatens to do that?
Summer: Now get the hell out of my office! Enjoy your time before you become a total pariah. And next time, think twice before messing with Summer Eggleston's friends, bitch!
Hector doesn't know what to do other than slink out of the office in shame.
Having no idea how much Summer just ruined a huge part of Hector's ability to operate his business, Ophelia has been blissfully working on improving her baking skill for New Skill Day. That better be a thank you pie for Summer, girl!
#The Sims#The Sims 4#The Sims 4 Legacy#The Lemon Legacy#TS4#The Sims 4 gameplay#sims 4#generation 1#ophelia#summer#becca#libby#hector#mila
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Manners
“Oh right, Spud, remember to pick up two bottles of sherry or gin or something of the like from the store to bring to Alec’s” said Ralph as he slipped into his shoes. “And something to eat as well. I won’t be off until after the shops close tonight.” He stood by the door, quickly surveying the room and himself in a final check —for keys, wallet, papers left behind —before picking up his brief case and umbrella.
“I didn’t realize we had to bring the drinks ourselves,” said Laurie as he leaned in for his kiss. “Thought it was a bit of free.”
Ralph laughed and placed a spare hand on one side of Laurie’s face, stroking it gently. “I gather it was a spontaneous invitation from Sandy last time for you, but usually it is one bottle and one meal per person.”
“I hadn’t realized….I thought…..” Laurie blushed as he remembered his eagerness to barge into the party, in search of Lanyon, which must have been quite obvious and apparent to all at the party but himself.
“Alec and Sandy may be doctors,” Ralph continued, chuckling as he watched Laurie turn a light shade of pink, ever charmed by Spud’s red-head complexion, “but they don’t get paid much while they’re still in training. I don’t think even Alec would have us back again if we show up and eat them out of house and home.”
Laurie lifted Ralph’s hand from his face and entwined their fingers. “Alright. Is there anything in particular they’d like? I remember Sandy is quite found of Brussel sprouts, but it’s really not the season for those right now.”
“I usually bring sandwiches. But if you want, you can bring them veg and Alec will find a way to cook it.”
Laurie gave Ralph’s hand —it was his bad one —a little peck, one on each knuckle, before letting it go. “We’ll see what’s left once it’s my turn in the queue.”
He made a face that conveyed good humored resignation, which was received with a knowing sigh.
“I was also planning to give Theo a jar of the marmalade my mother sent me when I see him at the party,” he continued, changing the topic slightly, as he recalled the tentative guest list that Alec had shared with him. “To thank him for helping us with the table. Do you that’ll be enough?”
Theo Summer was surprisingly skilled in carpentry, having spent his adolescent summers in his grandmother’s old and decrepit country manor, fixing up some of the antiques she could no longer afford to have professionally fixed but was stubbornly unwilling to sell off. He’d offered his skills to them last month when he heard about their broken dinning table. The waiting lists for new utility furniture were three months long. After Ralph’s failed attempt at restoring the old thing to a usable condition, Laurie had resigned himself to the prospect of eating on a rug on the floor like in those images he’d seen in travel books about the Near East.
“I think it’s a good idea, Spud. I almost forgot. Thank you for remembering.” He pressed another light kiss to Laurie’s lips, and turned to go. “Let them know I’ll arrive after seven. Goodbye.”
*
There were no pre-made sandwiches left in the store by the time Laurie got in. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had that tea before setting out for the shops. He looked over at the vegetable aisle. There were a few sad pieces of spring greens, some overly ripe tomatoes, and soft cucumbers that did not pass the “squish” test. But further down the aisle were peas, lots of them, and they were fresh. And so Laurie left the grocer’s with a large bag of peas, three tomatoes (once he’d mashed them and made them into paste, no one would be able to tell that they’d likely just started going bad, he told himself), one cucumber (it was soft but smelled alright, he thought) a few packs of powered milk, and four tins of spam, because they still had some meat rations left for this month. The peas and cucumber would make a great salad for Alec’s party, and the jammed tomatoes and tinned spam would last him and Ralph a while.
He found better luck in the off-licence. There was mead from the local farms, which Alec adored, and some whiskey for Sandy.
The shopping rounds took up most of the morning, which left Laurie the rest of the afternoon to pour over his job applications, put final touches on letters of introduction, and start reading another book that his Oxford buddy —Raymond —had sent him last week.
At half past five, he walked up the stairs to Alec and Sandy’s flat, confidently this time, and with much more ease thanks to months of physical therapy and his boot. Unlike last time, he had a very good idea of who he’d meet at the top of the staircase and what they’d say and do behind those doors. I come bearing gifts of food and wine, he thought, ready to do his part in the preparations. He would be waiting for Ralph’s arrival, like last time, but with the knowledge that it would be sometime after seven. And like last time, he wouldn’t expect to partake in the dancing or much of the gossip, but there was always the casual conversation with Alec as he helped in the kitchen, the friendly exchanges with Sandy as he accepted his offers of food and drink. And Laurie found himself looking forward to greeting the few acquaintances he hadn’t seen in a while: Eddie who’d just returned from being stationed up north, Philip who always brought in good tips about black market meat and chocolate, Theo who doesn’t say much but nods at the right places, and even Toto now that he’s stopped seeing Bunny and no longer brought him to Alec’s parties.
At the top of the staircase, Laurie knocked firmly on the wooden door. He was here to see his friends.
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Funny Seeing You Here
Synopsis
Long time in-patient y/n was looking forward to her upcoming discharge date from the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. That is, until she became acquainted with an unlikely familiar face, Eddie Munson.
Author’s Note
This is a fix it fic following Stranger Things season 4, volume 2. In this fic, we’re going to forget the fact that the Duffer Brothers decided to delete Eddie from the series. :-) These events take place after the battle in the upside down. I’m also choosing to change the ending of season 4 by having the issue with the upside down resolved, therefore, Hawkins is not plagued by the massive earthquake that resulted in new portals being opened.
What To Expect
Slow burn, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut in later chapters. ♡
Series Warnings
Mentions of mental health struggles, SMUT (in the later chapters, 18+ to read this story), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence.
Chapter 2
It wasn’t long after witnessing the police and paramedics storming through the hallways that y/n was ushered away to her scheduled afternoon group therapy session. She normally participated a lot and contributed to the conversations, but today was different. She was so intrigued by the earlier events that had unfolded before her that she was really struggling to focus on the mundane discourse that her daily discussions entailed. It’s safe to say, today’s session was a write off.
Once the discussion concluded, she didn’t waste a second getting out of the there to rush back to her unit, in search of Wayne. She was hoping he could provide more details on the mysterious patient her mind was consumed by. Despite the strict privacy policy the hospital enforced, Wayne and y/n we’re close and would often discuss the latest hospital gossip together. Although they did enjoy discussing the events that would take place, whenever y/n would inquire about an incident, Wayne would always refrain from using names, not wanting to leak sensitive information. She admired that about him and thought it was quite respectful. He showed more discretion than most of the staff did.
While making her rounds around the unit, she finally caught up to him in the hallway.
“Wayne! Hi!” She blurted out at the first sight of him.
“Good afternoon, y/n. Quite the energy you’ve got today!” He replied, a bit wide-eyed. “How was your group session?” He asked, somewhat perplexed by her eagerness.
“Good, we uh… It was good!”
He gave her a bit of a smirk, accompanied by a side eye. “That’s good to hear!”
As Wayne started to turn away, redirecting his attention to the clipboard he was holding, probably wanting to complete some forms he would often be working on, y/n interjected again.
“So uh, apparently there was some commotion over in the emergency department earlier today!” Dang… That came off more abruptly than she had hoped it would.
“Oh?” Wayne responded, his curiosity getting the best of him as he set down the clipboard on the nearest table.
“You didn’t hear?” y/n continued “Apparently a ton of police officers rushed into the ER with paramedics and a patient!”
Wayne looked perplexed, which wasn’t a good sign. Usually he would entertain y/n with additional information he had on the matter, but this time, he didn’t seem to know anything about this incident.
Crap. She was really hoping to learn more.
“That is interesting, you’ll have to fill me in when you hear more about it!” He said, picking the clipboard up from the table and smiling before redirecting his attention to the paper.
A dead end. Maybe y/n would have better luck hearing about what happened through the grapevine.
_
The next few days were rather uneventful. Same routine, different day. Y/n was starting to lose interest and forget about the incident, until she overheard a couple of nurses quietly talking by the water fountain near her room.
“I can’t believe they finally caught him!”
“Well, it’s about time, could you imagine what more he could have done had he still been on the run!”
Her eyes shot up from the book she was reading and she froze, focusing all her attention on the conversation that was being held no less than 10 feet from her room.
“I just don’t feel safe with him here, did you hear what he did to that poor cheerleader? It’s only a matter of time before he does that to one of us.”
Suddenly, it clicked.
Eddie Munson.
She remembered initially hearing about this story.
Although there weren’t any televisions in her unit, Wayne was pretty good at keeping her up to date on the latest news around town. The most recent buzz worthy story she had been informed on was that of Eddie Munson; the suspected cult leader of Hawkins, wanted for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham.
She was genuinely at a loss for words. I mean, it’s not everyday you hear about a crime of this caliber happening in your hometown, especially involving a suspect you know. From what she had heard from Wayne, the media was in a frenzy, perpetuating so many narratives on Eddie Munson and this so-called cult he was running.
Y/n had gone to school with Eddie, in fact, they were the same age. She first became familiar with him in their history class where he was sitting across from her.
Sure, Eddie was eccentric, but he was certainly no murderer. At least, as far as she could tell. She couldn’t remember what was said, but they had exchanged a few words from time to time, most likely regarding homework assignments, to which he was always very kind and forthright. She couldn’t help but think that these rumors of him being affiliated with satanism were most likely due to his interest in playing Dungeons and Dragons, as well as his fondness of metal music.
Now, it had been a long time since y/n had played D&D, and her memory of the rules were rather hazy, but she did remember what pleasure and fun she had playing the game at the time. She was also a metal enthusiast, having quite the cassette tape collection. This allowed her to empathize with Eddie, as she had experienced firsthand the judgment and disapproval that came with listening to this kind of music. Despite this, she had to admit, she couldn’t truly put herself in Eddie’s shoes as her interest in metal music was more of a well-kept secret, only discovered by her parents overhearing the tunes coming from her bedroom speakers, or her friends spotting the Iron Maiden cassette tape playing on her Walkman.
Through her similar experiences and brief encounters with him, she had a hard time believing Eddie was capable of such atrocities and instead, wrote it off as a product of the Satanic Panic. He was, after all, the perfect candidate for such accusations. From his bold, provocative appearance and personality to his non-conforming interests, it was no surprise he was the target of such hate.
Her ears were peeled more than ever as she started getting up from her bed to carefully walk towards the door, hoping to get more information from the conversation going on regarding Eddie.
“If that Manson kid even steps foot near me, I swear I’ll-“
“Munson” y/n blurted out. As the words left her lips, she realized that she had intended for his name to remain an internal thought.
The nurses turned over quickly; eyes as wide as can be.
“What was that, dear?” One asked, trying to play it off as if they hadn't just been caught gossiping about a patient.
“His name is Munson I’m pretty sure, not Manson…” She sheepishly said, cursing her tongue for betraying her in a moment that was meant to be strictly observatory.
The nurses quickly exchanged glances before parting ways, leaving y/n alone to wonder what the full story was, and how this so-called “murderer” ended up here in such a battered state.
_
Chapter 3
Let me know what you think & if you’re interested in being on my tag list ♡
#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson series#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#fx it fic#slow burn fic#st 4 fix it fic#stranger things s4#stranger things netflix#stranger things eddie#fluff#angst#eddie munson fanfiic#funnyseeingyouhere
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The Mad Grot
(This is a Warhammer flash fiction piece I wrote, it was meant to be for a Cold Open competition but didn’t quite fit the theme and not sure it’s good enough to win, but I’m quite happy with it. I love the Warhammer universes, and am nerding out big over them. I’m still fairly new to it all, so apologies for any mistakes/inaccuracies. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.)
Tupzin threw an elbow into his neighbour's face and darted forward, scrapping a few more feet in the swirling scrum at the mob's centre.
He'd been pushed forward at first, but had no interest in being first to face the humie guns, but the rear held the threat of Brazgot's lashes and squig hounds.
The best place to be was in the middle of the horde. Unfortunately, every other git knew this, and there was a mass of conniving cowardice at work.
It didn't help that countless squabbles and grudges were getting settled in the ruck too.
Tupzin, hissing angrily, shoved off a grot who tried climbing over him.
That's when he saw Loonza the Mad Grot.
* * *
Loonza was angry, he'd wanted to get a place right at the front.
They was fighting humies, and he wanted to get stuck in straight away.
He was sure if Gork or Mork saw him go down scrapping, they might let him come back as an ork or something, a proppa fighter!
He'd charged up his beloved laspistol, but when unplugging it from the frayed wires, he'd been zapped and woken up to find most of the other grots already scrapping.
Mad Grot.
That's what they called him, Loonza knew. But they were just as mad as him. Fighting for a few more moments of life.
Not him, though.
Nope, he knew he'd die eventually, but he was gonna go down swinging and blasting.
He'd had to fight his way through a bit, but most grots, seeing his determined expression, cleared out.
The eagerness for a fight and determination marked him out as different right away.
There were his clothes too, which were more warlike than the usual grot rags. He's scrounged up plenty of blue, wanting the luck to kill some humies before they got ‘im.
And wedged on his head was a metal pot serving as a helmet. He had his laspistol in hand and a crude knife strapped across his back.
Loonza was ready for a fight.
* * *
Tupzin shrieked, running towards the human guns.
He needed a place to hide!
The ship had landed, or rather crashed, into the planet, and Brazgot had forced them into a charge.
Tupzin had been with hundreds of others but now ran with a small clutch of fellow grots.
Hopefully, they'd catch any shots sent their way.
The gang ducked behind some rubble, jabbering nervously.
“I think Brazgot's dead! We can just stay here.”
“If 'e’s dead, his squigs loose! I ain't gonna sit and wait to get eaten!”
There was a demented whoop, and Loonza rushed over to them.
Figures. All that blue makes 'im lucky, Tupzin thought. Tho' real luck woulda been not being a grot to start with.
* * *
Loonza had his pistol slung over his shoulder and his bloody knife in hand. He'd found a humie hiding in a tower with some fancy gun with a tellyscope on it.
Typical humie nonsense! Aiming was cheating, and took the fun outta the fight. Better to just blast away and let Gork and Mork sort it out, innit?
“Wot you lot doing? Fights over there.” He grinned, nodding towards the enemy.
“Get lost you daft snot!” Tupzin snapped. “We is using cover for tacti-kal vantage, ain't we?”
“Youse is hiding!” Loonza cackled. “Well, not me, lads! Loonza's gonna fight!”
He ran off hooting and hollering.
“That mad git is gonna get 'imself killed.” Tupzin sneered. “Shoulda stayed here, nice and sa-”
That's when the shell hit.
* * *
Loonza had swiped a grenade from a dead humie and now held it like a prize as he ran along a rubble wall that ran through the human lines.
Three humies were crouched behind a big shoota on three legs, blasting away at the orks attacking.
Loonza watched for a moment, mesmerised by the awesome firepower.
'Cor, what I wouldn't give to have a shoota like that one day, Loonza thought, even though the gun was far bigger than him.
Well, if he couldn't have it, why should they?
He armed the grenade and lobbed it into their little nest.
One humie gave a little shriek, and then the gun and the three men vanished in a blast of flame, gore and smoke.
Loonza hopped down and ran along the humie line, occasionally finding a humie hunkered down in the mud.
They was all looking the other way, so he shot them in the back. Nuffin’ wrong with that.
Then he found a whole bunch of 'em all huddled together. Looking away and shooting at the charging greenskins off in the distance.
“Well, this'll do! Hope yer watching, Mork! You too, Gork!” Loonza said cheerfully.
Then with a manic whoop, he charged them.
Diving down into the foxhole he unleashed a volley of lasblasts, scorching the air and catching two of the humies in the head and neck.
The humans yelled, spinning around at this surprise attack and firing in panic.
One humie's shotgun cut down another, and the humie froze, staring at his dead mate, giving Loonza an easy target.
Then Loonza was thrown forward as a shot hit him in the back. He rolled over, dropping the humie who'd shot him, the last survivor in the place.
“Hope you enjoyed the show…” The grot muttered, before everything went black.
* * *
Fixxbash looked at the towering metal form in front of him.
This was the mastapiece of kans, and he'd not wanted to waste it on another cowardly grot who'd still run even when inside his magnificent creation.
But Brazgot assured him this grot was different. They'd called him the Mad Grot, and the little git had killed a buncha humies before getting hisself shot.
“Plug him in.”
The grot he barked at hesitated a moment, saw Fixxbash's heavy wrench and then obeyed, jabbing a wire in through the top of the Killa Kan.
There was a flash, the smell of burnt grot and then the machine roared into life, belching thick fumes from the exhausts.
From inside came a manic cackle, and the arms moved, testing the giant pincers on the left and inspecting the heavy gun on the right.
“Oh, yeah! This is more like it!” A voice cried excitedly.
#grots#greenskins#warhammer40k#warhammer#orks#warhammer 40k#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#writing#Warhammer Wednesday#loonza the mad grot#killa kans#comments welcome
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Storm of the Century
For one of two RWRB exchanges I signed up for.
My first First Prince fic :). Post Canon.
When the weather calls for the Storm of the Century, Henry makes sure to make it back home in time to be snowed in with Alex. Cue Snowed in shenanigans.
AO3
***
Storm of the Century
Despite living on the East Coast, more specifically, New York City for the better part of five years (although only New York for one), Alex hadn’t quite grasped the concept of paying attention to the weather.
Or more precisely, he’s gotten used to Henry paying attention to the weather for him. Henry, unfortunately, had just texted him that his flight was delayed, and he’d get in as soon as he could, but he didn’t know when that would be, which is why Alex had donned a light jacket and taken David out for a run.
Except due to the weather, they had gotten just far enough in the run that Alex was now a lot further than he should be when it started coming down fast and every step ran the risk of slipping and falling (which with his luck would get caught by the paps – he does not want that).
He stops and contemplates his options. He could walk back, but it was a terribly long way and it’s coming down faster and faster. He could call a secure car (he’s sure Cash is going to argue for this), but it would take ages of waiting in the worsening storm and city traffic in this weather could mean that he would walk back faster. He could attempt the subway or a bus, but really it would still involve walking in the snowstorm to the stop, wait for the train or bus, and walk to the brownstone in the snow anyway, which seems utterly pointless. His last option is a taxicab (Ubers for some reason are highly discouraged even more than a random taxi), so he would have to hail one like a real new yorker.
Admittedly, since he can see them everywhere, he wouldn’t even have to move to get one and wouldn’t have to wait, a taxi is the best option – especially because he really wants to be a real new yorker, even if new yorkers don’t typically have security chasing them around all the time stopping them from dealing with the masses the same way they normally would.
He hasn’t been in a taxi before (at least not that he can remember), so he’s eager for the experience.
Just as he comes to this conclusion, he turns to Cash, who says, “You know taxis are a security risk.”
Alex snorts as he shivers. “I swear you can read my mind. We can’t wait for a secure car, and the snow is getting heavier by the second. David’s freezing – it’s hail a taxi or freeze to death. And somehow, I think that you don’t want ‘let the First Son freeze to death’ on your Secret Service Resume.”
“I think I would change ‘first son’ to ‘little shit that wasn’t smart enough to wear a proper coat’ and the public would forgive me,” Cash jokes.
Alex is not impressed, and Cash relents when he shivers, again.
“Fine, fine. Hail a cab, but they are signing an NDA.”
He pulls one out of his pocket and Alex stares. “You brought that on our run?”
“Of course I did,” Cash states. “You tend to need them rather randomly – more so before you got with Henry, but often enough. Now, just do it.”
Alex grins and steps to the curb to hail the taxi headed his way. He’s never done it before, but he’s thrilled to attempt it now.
Unfortunately, he gets skipped over by the first, second and third taxi cabs in the vicinity.
“Jesus, how do they get any fares when they skip potential fares like this?” Alex complains.
“Maybe they have people in them.”
“That last one definitely didn’t,” Alex argues as another one passes. “I just don’t get it – they’re already obsolete with Uber and other rideshares, why make it worse by skipping fares?”
Cash shrugs. “There could be any number of reasons, maybe they’ve been called to a location, already. Maybe they’re done for the day and don’t want to pick up another fare. Maybe they’re trying to avoid driving in the snow any more than they have to – given that they don’t know where you’re going, they could figure that it might be a far drive and it’s better to head home…”
“I wasn’t looking for an actual reason, Cash,” Alex interrupts. “Just complaining.”
“Or maybe… they saw your ugly mug and figured you’d complain their ear off in the short drive to the brownstone,” Cash says, grinning.
“Oi!” Alex yells, turning back to him and away from the road. He winces at the Britishism. He’s been spending too much time in London (or at least around a Londoner).
Cash teases just that, while Alex deflects, but luckily a taxi finally pulls up.
Before he can even turn around, he hears, “Well, I certainly wish we spent more time together, and I’ll get you to speak proper English eventually.”
“Henry?” Alex asks, turning around and gleefully spotting his boyfriend in a taxi. The boyfriend that was supposed to be overseas and unable to come home. The reason Alex had gone on an admittedly dumb run right before a storm in a light jacket. “How – what – oh, I don’t care,” Alex says, as the door flings open and he half hugs him, half climbs into the back of the cab barely not on top of him.
Cash and David get in beside them, making it cramped (a PPO is in front with a clearly disgruntled cabby driver). Once the door shuts, the cab takes off, but Alex is more focused on Henry.
“Okay – okay. You said that you were stuck in London. And – and you’re in a taxi… a prince in a taxi… I’m totally in shock,” Alex rambles quickly. “Not that I’m complaining at all … the thought of weathering a storm without you is highly disappointing.”
Henry grins at him. “Which is why when I saw the call for the storm of the century, I made sure to leave early… not early enough though to completely avoid the chaos. When we reached the airport, we couldn’t get a car and I’ve heard you talk about being a real new yorker and hailing a cab, so I figured it was this was the best opportunity for me to get that – no one else was particularly happy, but I am.” He notices Alex’s slight shiver, despite being in the warmth of the cab, and asks, “Why are you only wearing a light jacket when it’s zero degrees out?”
“I didn’t realize that it was that cold. The sun went down between when I got home and when David and I decided to go on a run, and I figured it wasn’t that cold and the run would keep me warm enough.”
“So, essentially, you didn’t check the weather and note that it’s supposed to be like three days of freezing temperatures and the snowstorm of the century? That they are warning that you shouldn’t be outside for more than five minutes once it hits? Yet, decided a spring jacket was enough?”
Alex shrugs. He hadn’t realized it was set to get that bad. “I was fine until we got caught in the storm.”
Henry’s not impressed, but Alex doesn’t care as they pull up in front of the brownstone. “Well, at least we saw you and picked you up before you could freeze to death.”
“I wasn’t going to freeze to death – Cash wouldn’t let that happen, it’d be bad for his secret service resume.”
He spares a look at Cash, who snorts as he gets out of the cab and gets the NDA stuff sorted (even though the cabby would have had to sign one for Henry). It’s still nuts that there’s all this paperwork sometimes, but getting it signed after a cab ride is a lot better than getting it signed after a one-night-stand.
God, those nights had been so embarrassing at times.
Still, at least now he doesn’t have to worry about that, Alex thinks as he and Henry head into their home with David leading the way (after a quick thank you to the driver). It was honestly embarrassing to think of Cash or Amy collecting phones before and signing paperwork after, knowing that they knew exactly what happened in between. Not that they didn’t know when he was with Henry, but somehow, knowing grins or teases about ‘enjoy your summit’ was a little different. Especially, now, since he lives with Henry so every time they get together isn’t meticulously scheduled through handlers and security teams anymore.
“What are you thinking about?” Henry asks as he takes off his coat and opts to leave his suitcase in the entryway for now.
Alex is relieved to take off his wet coat, even as he shivers. “Just how annoying and awkward the paperwork was before you. Or even the fact that people like knew every time we got together and what we were doing.”
Henry laughs. “Why are you randomly thinking about this now?”
“The NDA for the cabby and the fact that Cash had teased about how he carries them around because he used to ‘randomly need them’.”
Henry, who knows about Alex’s exploits, simply kisses him. “Well, lucky for me, you don’t really need them as randomly anymore.”
Alex laughs. “Definitely not.”
He shivers again despite the warmth of their home and quickly decides that he needs to get out of all of his clothes. A hot shower would probably be best.
“You best get out of those wet clothes,” Henry states. “It’ll be easier to get you warm again.”
Alex grins, devilishly, as he pulls Henry close by his belt loops. “Trying to get me naked already? Not even going to wine and dine me, you must think I’m so easy,” he teases.
“Alex, you are ridiculously easy, especially considering that one kiss and you were ready to do me in a room next to a room full of very important people. Had Amy not reminded us that five minutes was not enough, you would’ve taken me right there.” Henry laughs. “And if you recall, I asked if we should slow it down, and go to dinner and you quite frankly told me to shut up because you wanted in my trousers.”
Alex refuses to blush. “I didn’t say those exact words by any means. I simply …”
“Wanted to snog my trousers off me?”
Alex huffs. “That’s not fair. I spent weeks dealing with my bisexual crisis because I couldn’t get that damn kiss out of my head and – and I just … the bar was low okay, I wanted to kiss you and…”
“…and had very little restraint,” Henry finishes, grinning. “Because you’re easy.”
“I had enough restraint not to kiss you in front of everyone,” Alex states, defending himself. “And I was going to say that I think a hot shower or warm bath might do the trick, and thought about inviting you, but I don’t want to be easy.”
“I never said it was a bad thing,” Henry says, retracting a bit. “I love that you were so … eager. It helped my nerves for you to be so gung-ho.” Then he lowers his voice seductively, “And we both know that I would make that shower much hotter and warm you up quite quickly, and after a week away, surely, my easy boyfriend would be as eager for me to join him as I am to join him.”
He's right, naturally. Alex has been craving Henry since the moment he left, only his exams had kept him here and he had been planned to celebrate the brief reprieve with a naked Henry.
He grins. “I’ll race you?”
Henry smiles. “Always.”
“Good – Go!”
***
Now warm and snuggly, Alex wearing Henry’s Oxford sweatshirt and sweatpants, snuggles up to Henry in his own sweats, and quite put out that he doesn’t fit into Alex’s clothes as easily, but thrilled with having beaten Alex in the race up the stairs.
Dinner had been a quick affair, and now, they were snuggling in front of the fireplace with the shade of the bay window open so that they could watch the snow fall and listen to some soft music. Alex never really loved snow since it wasn’t a big factor in Texas (or California), and it still hadn’t grown on him aside from random snow fun that he doesn’t get to have all that often – snowball fights, building snowmen, and making silly things in the snow – it’s usually not enough or he’s usually busy and it melts or he doesn’t have anyone to do those things with, so it’s really just a nuisance to his life rather than anything fun.
It is pretty though. Watching it fall from the warmth of their living room, cuddling with his boyfriend and reveling in being together after a week apart.
“So, how were your exams?”
“Great,” Alex admits. “I know I get in my head about them before and it was probably better you weren’t here this week to be annoyed by my overzealous studying and being in the zone, but I’m sure that I aced them.”
“Of course you did, you’re brilliant, but even if you failed them all, you did your best and it’s good enough,” Henry assures him.
If there’s one thing that Alex appreciates about Henry, it’s the assurance that he’s enough, that he doesn’t have to keep pushing all the time as long as he does his best.
He kisses his cheek.
“How was Bea? Did you enjoy the concert?”
“I did. I wish you’d been there, but it was nice to visit with Pez since he’s been abroad lately, and Bea did absolutely wonderful as always. She’s thinking of expanding and doing more concerts outside of the UK. Possibly, more in Europe, and maybe even some here in the States.”
“That would be fantastic, especially if it means you’d get to see her more,” Alex offers. He knows how much Henry misses Bea, especially since he avoids London as much as possible. “Besides, it’ll be nice to attend one of her concerts and see her myself. Gotta get her to love me as much as June loves you.”
He’s teasing, of course. He talks to Bea almost as much as Henry talks to June, largely because they have a bit of a connection as rebels of sorts, so despite rarely seeing one another, they still have a deep friendship. Plus, she loves Alex on the basis that he helped Henry find the courage to fight and that he loves him on purpose. Protective older sister at her best.
Henry laughs. “Speaking of, she mentioned that you were up to something for our upcoming anniversary, and she hopes the storm doesn’t ruin things… I told her the weather should clear in a few days and her flight will probably make it out.”
Alex huffs, he’d been planning to surprise Henry with a visit from Bea and Pez for the annual Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve party, and then a trip out of snow-land to the much warmer lake house – three days with them and three days alone (they would be coming on the third, spending the first and second with June and Nora since he wanted to be alone with Henry on their actual anniversary). “I thought she was a good secret keeper. What the hell?”
“She is… usually,” Henry states, smiling. “But I saw some texts on her phone and may have overheard a bit of your conversation with her the other day.”
Alex pouts. “They were supposed to be a surprise. There’s not a lot you can get for a prince, you know? It’s totally unfair.”
Henry kisses his cheek. “There’s nothing I need more than you for our anniversary, but I do like you inviting Bea and Pez to your party just for me.”
“It’s not my party.”
“It rather is,” Henry argues. “You put the most efforts into it, even though you don’t live there anymore.”
“It still belongs to the three of us,” Alex retorts, but it sounds like Henry doesn’t know about the secondary part of the plan, which is fantastic. “Anyway, I still want to get you something to celebrate.”
“You can gift me yourself as a gift, wrap yourself up in a bow and everything,” Henry teases.
Alex laughs, “And you say I’m easy.”
“You are. Need I remind you of the race up the stairs?”
“If that makes me easy, that makes you easy, too.”
“I never said I wasn’t easy, especially when it comes to you, just that you are because you’re the one that’s denying it.”
Alex hums. It’s certainly true. “I guess so… why don’t you tell me more about your trip?”
“Well…”
***
The first full day of snow was happily spent cuddling up together watching it snow, sharing stories about weather days that kept them inside – this meant, Alex was a bit jealous of Henry’s snow days the same way he was jealous that Henry got to attend Uni in a more normal way than Alex got to attend Undergrad (although, now, in law school, he was starting to get a more normal college experience despite dating a prince and still being the First Son). The second full day was spent reliving Alex’s indoor activities which includes board and card games, with an added bonus of holiday movies that all involve couples getting snowed in and falling in love. He teases Henry that they’re already a step ahead in that, and honestly, he still couldn’t believe it.
The third day, however, Alex finds himself staring out at the endless snow (it’s now over two feet and still snowing), wanting to get out and about. Alex doesn’t do well locked up – evidence by his reaction after he was relegated to his bedroom for falling in love with Henry and getting fired from the campaign. Those were tough days, although, luckily, now he’s not alone.
Henry knows plenty of ways to distract him – and some of them are even clean! – but he’s still feeling rather… listless stuck inside like this.
“Snow, snow go away, come back another day,” Alex sings, changing the song from ‘rain, rain’ to snow, not that he believes that a silly song like that would work.
Henry appears from the kitchen with his tea and Alex’s coffee. “Isn’t that song for rain?”
“Yes, but I’ve repurposed it.”
“And you think some silly song will make the snow stop?”
“One can hope.”
There’s a pause as Henry hands Alex his coffee and wraps an arm around him. “You know, the snow doesn’t have to keep us inside.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s a little warmer today. Why don’t we fulfill some of those snow activities that you’ve only vaguely gotten to do growing up?” Henry offers. “Building snowmen, creating things in the snow and a snowball fight that I will absolutely win.”
“What makes you think you’d win?” Alex questions, already deciding that they would go out and do just that once they finish their drinks.
Henry hums. “I could think of a few reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Well, for one, you always claim that I’m ridiculously competent at things –”
“You are, but you’re not usually competing against me.”
“– and for another, I’ve actually played in the snow more often than you have –”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“– and lastly, because I can easily distract you,” Henry finishes, and before Alex could refute that oneHenry’s lips are on his and he’s easily distracted by his literal prince charming kissing like an actual prince charming, which reminds him about the thoughts of the moors the first time that they kissed in his White House bedroom.
When they break apart, Alex smiles at him. “You know what I think?”
“That you’d rather play a game upstairs than in the snow outside?”
Alex laughs. “I’m not that easy.”
Henry gives him a look. “Oh, then, do tell?”
“I think you’re just scared that I’m going to beat you and you’re trying to deflect by suggesting that I could be easily distracted.”
“Not a chance. I am definitely going to win any snow related activities.”
“Wanna bet on it?” Alex asks. “Best of three wins – Snowmen, Snow Creations, and Snowball fight?”
Henry hums. “Who’s the judge, Cash? Because I think that would give you an advantage.”
“Nah, he’d choose you just ‘cause he loves to mess with me. I was thinking we could send pictures to the group and have them vote.”
“That works, but we’re bundling up, okay? No light jackets this time.”
“Deal.”
***
An hour or so later, Alex’s lopsided Snowman did not beat Henry’s perfectly straight snowman, and Cash did have to be the tiebreaker (since Nora and Pez had said Alex’s had ‘character’ and chose his). However, his snow castle and drawings of the six of them in the snow had beaten out the mess that Henry tried to create (he claimed that it was also a portrait of them, but they all looked like complete blobs). He tries to blame it on David, but no one believes him.
This means that they’re tied going into the snowball fight, where Cash is referee and taking videos to send to their friends.
They both start with making a wall of snow to protect themselves (and hide their supply of snowballs) and once they’re ready, Cash yells, “Ready – Set – Go!”
They both start throwing their snowballs at each other and dodging out of the way. Poor Cash nearly gets caught up in the middle since he’s trying to video it, but they manage to barely keep him out of it. David, on the other hand, tries very hard to be involved… he tries to catch the balls in his mouth and has taken to stealing what he can of them.
They yell trash talk back and forth as they continue along, slowly running out of balls. At some point, David has destroyed the walls of protection, and they’re both vulnerable. They start moving around, chasing after one another.
They both get fair amounts of hits and run out of balls at the same time, which is when they decide to treat the snow like it’s water – splashing it at each other while trying not to get hit. Alex manages to plop a whole bunch of snow on top of Henry’s head but doesn’t get away fast enough and ends up tackled into the snow.
At this point, there’s a struggle for who can pin the other down, snow and balls long forgotten while David tries to play, too, and Cash laughs hysterically in the background. He’s yelling something about why watching over Alex is his favorite assignment ever as he does so.
Alex is a little preoccupied though. He can’t flip them over again (they had rolled several times, but he’d ended up on his back). Henry’s got him pinned to the snow, smiling triumphantly and kisses his nose.
“Ah, I win!”
“Not a chance, Wales! You cheated.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You tackled me, I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules.”
Henry scoffs. “What rules? We didn’t establish any rules.”
“The – the basic rules. It’s like dodgeball, you can’t tackle the other team.”
“Yes, well, it’s not dodgeball. It’s a Snowball fight, and there were absolutely no rules on how to win. Given that we both abandoned our snowballs in favor of just throwing the snow – I think we abandoned any sense of proper rules, thus I win.”
“Who says ‘thus’?” Alex asks, petulantly. “And you did not win. This isn’t over.”
Henry scoffs. “I have you pinned, it’s over – I won!”
“Not a chance! I haven’t conceded, yet and I won’t.”
Alex is confident that he could find some way to still win, but Henry’s reply of, “I’ll just make myself comfy, then,” has him faltering.
Especially when Henry starts teasing him, kissing his face everywhere but his lips, leaning down in between kisses to whisper sweet nothings, even as Alex tries to knock him off of him. He’s starting to feel the fatigue set in, the wetness at his back, and a hardness from their positions, but what breaks him after several long minutes of delightful torture is when Henry whispers, “Come on, love, admit that I won and you and I will both reap the benefits of the reward – nice hot bubble bath and night that our asses will never forget.”
Alex groans, now fully hard. “You better put your money where your mouth is.”
“Don’t I always?” Henry asks, grinning down at him.
“Always,” Alex states, grinning. “Fine, you win! Just this once. Now kiss me.”
“Gladly.”
***
They kissed for an obnoxiously long time before remembering that they were not in their bedroom and actually in the snow where anyone could see them. Once they remembered, they went inside and enjoyed that reward they promised. Alex was slightly bitter that Henry won, but at least he got to have some fun in the snow.
Plus, it was fun just to play around with Henry. Although, he did challenge him to rematch for the next day. He will eventually win, he’s sure of it.
“Well, I’m successfully exhausted,” Henry says as he pulls Alex in for a cuddle. “But I enjoyed myself, did you?”
Alex hums, nuzzling Henry’s neck where a hickey is blossoming. “Naturally, I’d have fun do anything with you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” Alex agrees. “I also love that we got to be snowed in together. You and me – waiting out the storm of the century, cuddling and enjoying each other. Exactly what I needed after a week without you. I’m so glad you paid attention to weather enough to make sure you’d make it home in time.”
Henry hums. “I didn’t want to risk getting stranded there. Not without you.”
“I’m glad.” Alex kisses his cheek and then shifts to kiss him on the lips. “Here’s to the storm of the century and the best snowed in buddy I could have.”
He doesn’t give Henry the chance to respond, but then, he doesn’t have to. He’s sure Henry’s feeling the same way, and honestly, Alex would much rather lazily make out than hear the words he already knows are true.
They say a picture says a thousand words, but Alex thinks a kiss can say ten thousand words and right now, their kisses are saying God, I’m so happy, so in love, and that’s really all he needs.
Together, happy and in love.
Everything’s perfect.
Best snowstorm ever.
#RWRB#First Prince#red white and royal blue#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#Cash#Fic Exchange#FLUFF
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