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visceravalentines · 2 years

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My first attempt at a House of Wax fic! Writing so many characters in one scene was tricky so I hope I did alright.

I Only Have Eyes for You (And You, and You)

Following the events of the movie (except for the ending obviously), the Sinclairs could use some love. Maybe a little music. Maybe some dancing. Poly!Sinclairs x GN!Reader.

Rating: Teen/SFW

Length: 1.1k

CW: reference to previous murder and waxification

Reader POV

It has been a long week in Ambrose.

Lester rounded up a whole slew of college kids, and they had given you all a run for your money. They managed to fuck up the routine through and through, injuring Bo, even drawing Vincent out of the workshop to help wrangle them.

For the first time, you actively participated in the killing, taking down one of the final survivors with two decent shots just before they crushed Bo’s skull with a baseball bat. The pride in the eldest Sinclair’s eyes was just enough to counterbalance the roiling emotions you felt at taking your first human life.

They wreaked enough havoc to create weeks’ worth of necessary repairs to the town and its residents. You helped haul the broken figures carefully from their resting places in the theatre and museum to the warmth of Vincent’s workshop. You stood next to Bo as he assessed the structural damage to a few of the storefronts and muttered curses under his breath. You helped Lester retrieve the kids’ vehicles and camping gear and accounted for every last one of their cell phones.

It was exhausting work. Not only was Ambrose in shambles, but your boys were devastated by the level of destruction to their home. You knew Bo went to the church every morning to whisper apologies over his mama. You caught Lester sniffling quietly to himself as he swept up broken glass in the street. And Vincent – more than once, you came into the workshop and found him staring at a damaged canvas, his tools limp in his hands, and you had known enough artists in your life to recognize the helplessness he felt at facing a project he did not feel confident enough to complete. Even Jonesy was out of sorts, barking at nothing, wandering restless.

So Friday night finds you all in the house, deep in your respective thoughts. Bo sprawls on the couch, Vincent slumped forward beside him. Lester and Jonesy are upstairs. And you stand in the kitchen, overwhelmed by their collective needs, feeling inadequate in your capacity to pull them out of what you feared might become a lengthy depression.

Sighing, you lean against the counter, looking around for something to clean, something to fix, something small that required no energy because you had so little left. And your eyes fall on the cassette player in the corner. It is dusted with toast crumbs but you know that it works, and there is a drawer of tapes underneath it.

You pull it open and skim the titles for something you know. Most of the artists are unfamiliar to you, but one catches your eye. You fiddle with the machine for a minute, slide the tape in, press play. Frank Sinatra’s “I Only Have Eyes for You” fuzzes to life. You adjust the volume and catch the eye of the twins through the interior window. Vincent has lifted his face out of his hands and Bo cocks one skeptical eyebrow.

My love must be a kind of blind love, I can’t see anyone but you….

With a tired smile, you walk to them slowly, extend both hands, one for each of them. “Come here,” you say. Vincent lets himself be pulled up immediately. Bo takes your hand but does not move.

“That’s my bad arm, darlin’,” he says.

“Well then give me your other one.”

He lets out a single chuckle and allows you and Vinny to help him to his feet. You lead them both to the kitchen, shouting up the stairs on the way, “Les! Get down here!”

Bo separates himself from you and leans against the fridge, wincing as he flexes his injured arm. You place Vincent’s hands on your hips and slide your hands beneath his hair, clasping your fingers behind his neck. You can see in his eye he is bewildered as you sway gently to the music.

“Come on, Vinny. Dance with me.”

He looks down at his feet, shuffles them uncertainly. You know he has a grace belied by his many layers of clothing and the way he always seems to hunch over, you’ve just got to bring it out of him. You beam up at him, exaggerate your movements, coax him into motion. The way he gazes at you, it’s like he’s never seen anything quite like you before, like if he looks away you may just disappear forever.

Are the stars out tonight? I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright, ‘cause I only have eyes for you, dear….

“What in the hell is goin’ on in here?” Lester says as he leans through the doorway. “Frank Sinatra?”

“You bet your ass it’s Frank Sinatra,” you say. You dance on your tiptoes, reach up and brush a kiss against Vinny’s waxen cheek before letting him go. “C’mere Les, you’re next.”

You take his hands, tug him into the kitchen, pull his arms back and forth. The weariness gives way to a hesitant smile and then a toothy grin. He is shy, but he has the same dexterity as his brothers, and he falls into rhythm with you quickly. You spin him under your arm and his resulting laugh is throaty and genuine. He spins you in turn, you spin him again, then you grab Vincent’s hand and give him a whirl, barely able to reach over his head.

I don’t know if we’re in a garden, or on a crowded avenue….

Your gaze settles on Bo and you catch the whisper of a smile on his lips. The worry lines in his brow are permanent fixtures. He does not know how to be unguarded. He meets your eyes, doesn’t move, waits to be invited.

You send Lester off with one last twirl and square up in front of the oldest Sinclair. “C’mon Bo. I know you know how to dance.”

He shrugs. “’Fraid this wall might come down if I’m not here to hold it up.”

Shaking your head, you move closer, loop your fingers through his beltloops. “Guess you’ll have to build it back up then.”

This earns you the flash of a grin. “Alright, darlin’, if you insist.”

He gingerly places his left hand on your waist and you cup your hand under his elbow for extra support. Your other hand is almost lost in his, rough and warm. You let him take the lead, as if he would give you a choice, and you are unsurprised that he is a wonderful dancer.

Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view….

You feel Bo press his lips to your hairline. So quietly you almost miss it, you hear him murmur the last few words of the verse:

And I only have eyes for you.

The kitchen is a warm and safe place that night.

#please let me know what you think!#i have sinclair brain rot but writing for them pushes me out of my comfort zone in a lotta ways so feedback is appreciated #my writing #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfic #slasher fanfiction #sinclairs x reader

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

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Hi dear! I’m not too sure if this is too specific or odd for you to write, but if not may I request Vincent comforting his pregnant s/o after Bo makes a rude comment about their baby bump size? Thank you so much and take care 💕

Anon, I'd love to do more 'mature' kind of stuff like pregnancy and other related kinks -Lactation kink and such- This fic is just fluff though! Take care of yourself and thank you! 🐇💕

Vincent Sinclair x Female Reader (Pregnant Reader)

Underthecut - Fluff, Angst, Jonesy being a good girl, Pregnancy stuff, Bo being a dick, Mentions of Killing and noncon (Brief and not with the reader)

"You know, I wouldn't doubt if half of that bump was from all that food you've been eatin." Bo snarked as he caught you mid-waddle down the streets of Ambrose with Jonesy in tow.

Jonesy whined and gave Bo a soft ruff. Her wet nose tickled your fingers.

You froze. Shoulders slumped as you spoke with a vulnerable tone, "I'm pregnant you backwoods bastard." The tears welled up, bottom lip trembled as he shuffled back to the house of wax.

Bo hollered out to you, "Aw, c'mon, sweetpea! I'm just messin around!" Jonesy, tell er!"

Jonesy barked and growled at Bo as you two made your way up the street.

Every sniffle and tear made you feel like shit as if you didn't already. "Thanks, Jonesy." You patted her head, "God, your uncle sure is a dick. And he's basically my stupid brother-in-law"

You broke out into a sob, Jonesy pressed her weight against your legs, her whines telling you she understood. Might not fully understand why you were upset, but upset nonetheless.

---------------------------

Vincent busied himself with his latest creation, a teddy. He wanted it to be perfect. It was for her firstborn child after all, and that little munchkin deserved the best.

The best...

He pounded, a slight frown as he sat back in his chair. Could he give the best? Could he give his child everything their little heart desired? Realistically he knew no parent could.

It still ate away at him. Festered deep within him after the rush of excitement at the pregnancy news had worn off.

It had taken months of talking to calm him down about his appearance. Would the baby be scared of him? Screech and scream as he neared, as he neared you.

"Vincent, the baby doesn't know the concept of 'normal' They'll simply see you as their father."

He wanted to cry when you spoke those words to him.

He wasn't usually soft, years all walls being put up made him cold and calculating. No one was to tear them down.

No one but you.

"Vincent, stop worrying. Things will work out, you and Bo have been at this whole thing for years now. Sure a Baby is hard work but, we can do it."

More words replayed in his head,

"You know, Vince, I'm just as nervous. I too worry if I'll be good enough."

He cursed himself, he wished he could verbally to you just how amazing you'll be. How beautiful you look pregnant and how much more you'll look while carrying the baby in your arms.

He knows you'll look pregnant while you breastfeed, how naturally it will come to you. How the baby will cry when out of your arms.

Prayed the baby would never cry in his arms. Prayed you were right and the baby just saw him as a dad. Not some freak.

"The mask will scare him, Vince. So don't wear it around the baby!"

Vincent shook his head, snapped his attention back to the little teddy bear he was working on.

It had beige fur with buttons for eyes. Two blue-coloured buttons to match his eyes. A white snout with a sewn-in pink nose. It had a little black side smile, like the one you gave him when you were being smart with him.

Vincent perked up, the sound of his two favourite girls entering through the basement door elated him.

"Vincent?"

his heart stopped as your wobbly voice carried down the stairs.

"Vincent, I need you."

Vincent moved quicker than he could have imagined. A hand ran over Jonesy as he dashed up the stairs to place his large hand on your belly.

"Is...it...time?" He coughed as he held a powerless look. His heart sank as he watched the tears freely flow from your eyes, down your delicate cheeks.

"No, it was," A hiccup and a long sniffle, "Bo. He implied I looked fat!"

You collapsed into Vincent's arm with an audible thud, your heavy sobs muffled as you buried your face into his chest.

Vincent rolled his one eye and scooped you up. He bit his lip, his unscared cheek went pink as his chest rumbled.

He set you down on the bed next to Jonesy. He playfully shook his head as he looked down at you.

"What? Go kick his ass!"

Vincent clenched his chest, a wide smile, soft huffs from his mouth, he was laughing, to the best of his ability.

"It's not funny, Vince! You don't say that to a pregnant lady!"

He knew you were right, Bo shouldn't have said it. Was still funny how your hormones got the best of you. Normally if Bo would say such a thing to you, it would turn into a full-on verbal showdown.

Vincent sat behind you on the bed, pulled you into his chest, rested his chin on your shoulder as he pulled up the large t-shirt you wore. His. To rub your swollen belly.

You shifted uncomfortably as his fingers traced over your stretch marks. A slight whimper as his free arm wrapped itself around your chest, "Vinny, those are sore too," You gestured towards your breasts.

"M..sorry." He eased up but kept your firm against him.

His gentle strokes on your tummy, a figure pattern on your large baby bump had you sigh, your muscles eased as you shimmied closer in his arms.

The heat rose to your face, "Thanks, Vinny." You kissed his cheek, "I'm not fat?"

He coughed in an attempt to chuckle, "No...You...look beautiful."

----------------------------

"Hey," You shuffled around Jonsey, an impromptu dance as you kept giggling when she pushed her snout under your large shirt. Her wet, cold nose on your sensitive skin making you shriek and jump. "I think she's excited for the baby!"

Vincent sat on the large rock outside, his sketchbook in hand, the charcoal dusting his fingers as he captured the scene in front of him.

Each stroke was careful, each tiny detail was deliberate.

The way you moved in tandem with Jonesy was captured on the worn page.

"Well?" You shot him a look before you screamed, Jonesy's wet nose making contact with your belly. "You think she's excited or what?"

His smile made your chest tingle, your heartbeat out of synch for a few beats.

"You excited to meet your baby sister or brother?" Jonesy sneezed, her tail whipped about like a weed wacker gone loose. Her brown eyes held a warmth to them.

That was it.

Vincent worked furiously on the page, the way his two favourite girls shared a moment made his creativity course through him.

He silently cursed Bo. This would be a perfect opportunity to captured these moments on camera. But, "Hey, I need a momento of me and this blonde!" If momento he meant a porno slash snuff film...well fuck him then.

Maybe it was fair. He did hog the camera. From making Sex tapes with you, from basic sex to one long video of him drugging you and dressing you up. Many videos featuring the aftermath of his kills.

"Vincent!"

your voice snapped him out of his recollection.

"Vincent!" The way you joyously called to him as Jonsey greedily kissed your tummy with her nose had him carefully set down the sketchbook. "You better get over here!"

He grabbed you, you back against his chest as he held up your bump. The way he sighed and leaned back told him the action was appreciated. But, it held you in place and, allowed Jonesy to give you all the kisses she wanted.

"Vincent!"

#Vincent Sinclair #Vincent Sinclair x reader #Vincent Sinclair x you #Vincent Sinclair imagine #Female reader #Pregnancy #Pregnant reader #Fluff #angst #house of wax 2005

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soyforramen · 3 years

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Faith

Another update to the urban-fantasy AU I will eventually finish:

“Running away again, Jonsey?”

Penny’s voice echoed in the alley around him, her voice surrounding him, trapping him. Jughead gritted his teeth and ran for the street. His side throbbed and screamed with every step, but Betty’s grimoire had held up beautifully. At least until his leather jacket had finally given up under the heat of demon fire and grafted onto his skin.

Sanctuary was close by, so long as the Father was in. Glancing up and down the sidewalk, Jughead realized he was the only one out on the streets this late. That meant that there was no one he’d have to try and save from Penny’s wrath, but it also meant she had nothing to distract her from her pursuit.

Hearing Penny’s footsteps, he stumbled into the street and scrambled towards the sacred steps.

His shoulder screamed when he raised his arm to lift the clunky, rusted gargoyle door knocker. It slammed into the wood, creating a hollow, ominous sound. Panting, Jughead glanced behind him only to have Penny’s smirking face burned into his retinas. Another fire bomb flew his way, and he jumped back onto the thick cement railing. A shock of hellfire lit up his neck and Jughead realized his hat had caught on fire. He threw it towards her and turned back towards the door, only to find it standing strong without a single scorch on it.

“Aw, you think Father is going to save you Jonesy? Just like he saved dear old daddy? Are you gonna scream? Beg for mercy, just like F.P. did back in the old country?” Penny taunted.

The chains around her hips clanked softly in the night air as she sauntered towards him. At least one of them was enjoying this, though Jughead would rather see their roles reversed. Just as she reached the curb, the door behind him creaked open and he lunged inside.

“Forsythe? What on earth brings you –“

A burst of hellfire threw Jughead the rest of the way through the door. He landed hard on the old, polished marble and skidded across the floor only to slam into a pew. Every inch of his body was heavy; it was impossible to raise his head. Jughead blinked, but all he could see was the spark of flame coming at him, the afterburn of Penny’s latest attack.

“You have no power here, demon,” Father Mason said, his voicing booming in the high cupola above them.

Penny growled something low and unintelligible. Father Mason responded in kind. A bright, chiming song cut through their noise and it took Jughead almost two passes to answer his phone.

“Where are you? I lost Penny,” Betty’s ragged, gasping breath came from the speaker.

Jughead let out a long breath, thankful that she’d managed to get free. “8th and Elm. St. Hermione’s.”

“You’re in a church?”

It was quiet a moment. Another blast of fire managed to make it over the threshold and wound it’s way directly at him. Jughead dropped the phone and rolled away from it, letting the rest of his jacket take the direct hit.

The door slammed shut, and the air calmed.

“Jug.”

Cool hands cradled him, lifting him into a sitting position. Jughead blinked back the nausea, and Moose’s face swam into view. Wisps of grey threaded through his hair, and there were a few more lines around his eyes, but this was the same, kind face that had proselytized to his small village when Jughead was just a boy. Jughead reached up a hand, only to gasp and shudder at the pain.

“Are you hurt?” Moose asked, his voice brooking no lie.

“No more than the last time you saw me.”

Moose frowned, and a wave of shame hit Jughead.

“Sorry, I know it’s been a few …”

Days? Months? Years? Centuries?

Somewhere in the back of the apse a door slammed shut. Jughead started, adrenaline coursing through his body, but Moose gently guided him back to the floor.

“That demon will never cross my threshold,” Moose promised.

“Juggie?”

Moose stood, his center of gravity low and his hands clenched in fists, ready for a fight. He’d always been ready to protect, and die for, a member of his flock, no matter how lost they may be.

Jughead tugged on Moose’s frock and managed to croak out, “A friend.”

He turned to see Betty rushing around the alter, her blonde hair outshining the painted angels above her. Jughead refused to note the comparison as another wave of pain hit. Ignoring the priest, Betty rushed towards Jughead and pulled him into her arms.

“Are you okay?” Betty asked as her hands hovered above his shoulders, assessing the damage that had been done.

“Never better.”

Her hands landed on his side and he yelped. Blackness swam across his vision and he felt Betty grasp him even tighter, cursing under her breath.

“He needs blood,” she muttered.

She unbuttoned her cuff to roll up her sleeve, but Moose stopped her.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jughead turned his neck, squinting to watch Moose walk towards a cabinet behind the alter. They’d done this many times before, though often it was more an act of contrition than one of necessity. In truth, Jughead had little interest in faith or religion. He’d gone to church not out of a sense of duty, but because of the stories that Father Mason wove, day after day, about men claiming to be sent from God. And as he grew, he and the Father had formed a strange sort of friendship between a devout holy man and a scoffing, peasant teenager.

Even when Jughead’s life had been taken by a woman who smelled of lavender and leather, her touch tender against his throat and his soul, it was Father Mason who brought him sanctuary. Touched by an unholy fever and an unnatural hunger, it was Father Mason who knew the rites to perform.

Now, knowing what was to come, Jughead’s teeth ached and his mouth filled with saliva. The pain shifted from his shoulder to his stomach as it clenched in anticipation. Watching Father Mason pour the sacramental wine, Jughead could smell it’s acrid stench, the rotting grapes taking on a light, delicious temptation.

As he neared, Betty curled Jughead closer to her.

“Are you trying to kill him?”

Father Mason held up a hand and prayed. The low mumble of Latin lulled Jughead into an almost catatonic state, an addict waiting for his next shot of morphine.

“It’s fine, Betts, we’ve done this before,” Jughead said. His eyes locked on the chalice where the wine was slowly thickening.

When Father Mason was done, he held the chalice up to Jughead’s lips. It was pure ambrosia – the sweet, tangy flavor had increased in the now consecrated blood – and the tang of it sent ecstasy running through every inch of Jughead’s body.

“For this is my blood of the covenant,” Betty murmured. She shook her head in wonder. “That’s impossible.”

Moose smiled sadly and sat back on his heels. “Everything is impossible for those who doubt.”

She frowned. “No, there’s no way you could do that without …”

Another blast hit the door, and though it held, the chandeliers swayed above.

“You’re a witch,” Betty concluded. “You have to be.”

Father Mason jerked back, staring at her. His lips were set in a thin frown and his grip on the chalice had tightened.

“I’m no such thing.”

“You have to be, otherwise –“

Jughead wrapped a hand around Betty’s arm and shook his head.

“Faith alone,” Father Mason said firmly, “is what gives me power.”

He set the chalice on a nearby pew and stood, an imposing figure even in the black cassock. From this angle, Jughead realized for the first time he’d known Moose for almost three centuries. It was a strange thing that he’d never realized this before. Father Mason should have been dead, or at the very least a very old man, but Moose didn’t look a day over forty-five. Forty, in the right light.

“But –“

Jughead sat up slowly and shook his head. “Let it go. Please.”

Betty chewed her lip and they watched as Moose walked towards the door. Without effort, he opened the massive door - carved figures from biblical times, sinners and saints alike, lit up with fading hell fire.

“Father,” Penny spat out.

“You have no reason to be here. Leave,” Father Mason ordered.

She laughed, the sound distorted and warped within the church. “I have every reason to be here. Jones is in there, and I’m not. You know the rules.”

Father Mason shook his head and stepped out of the church. “This is a place of sanctuary, or have you forgotten the ancient rules?”

“Have you? I’m surprised you haven’t burned to ashes in there. Heretic.”

Carefully, Betty pulled Jughead to his feet. He leaned against the pews for a minute, too in awe of the changing lights around him to move. The consecration always hit him differently, the faith put into the wine stronger and stronger each time. Now, though, it appeared that Betty’s doubt had only increased the potency of Moose’s faith.

“My sins have been forgiven,” Moose’s voice bellowed, “as will yours. Repent and you too shall be brought back into the fold.”

Demonic cackling had Betty and Jughead clinging to each other.

“Forgiven? Us? Is that the lie they told you? We don’t get forgiven, Marmaduke. We’ve fallen, remember? We’re the rejects, the ones cast out by God and his holy entourage.”

The air in the church dropped a few degrees and the light dimmed. Jughead tugged Betty away from the door, and together they drew closer to the altar. Even from this distance they could see the sag in his shoulders, hear the desperation in his voice. Jughead felt a sting of sympathy run through him; he knew, painfully, what it was like to loose something that so defined one’s personality. It wasn’t a pain he would wish on anyone.

Without an ounce of fear, Father Mason opened the heavy doors and stepped out. Their carvings - images and figures from the Bible, depicting saints and sinners alike – glowed amber from the hellfire barrage they’d undergone. To Jughead’s eyes, they danced and shimmied, mocking the demon who dared attack them.

“Shouldn’t we –“ Betty leaned towards the doors, watching the priest take each step deliberately.

Jughead clamped down on her arm and pulled her closer to him. He knew, without a doubt, that she would run to Moose’s aid if given the chance. “This has always been his fight,” he told her softly. “I’ve only been a way to get to him.”

His words, an attempt to quell her fears, only seemed to wind her up like a toy, ready to leap forward at the first hint of trouble.

“Besides,” he added, “his name’s Moose. I think he’ll be fine.”

Another flare of heat rushed through the church and they drew back further from the door.

A howl of rage and pain mingled with Latin chants, the sound even more chilling that the last. There was a clacking noise, and Jughead glanced down to find Betty running through a string of charms, her lips chanting their own sort of prayers of protection.

In less than a second, the world went silent. The air was suffocating in its stillness, and the temperature suddenly dropped ten degrees. Jughead waited, his eyes never leaving the door; while his faith in Father Mason was absolute, even he had to admit there were enough things on heaven and earth, live or not, who could destroy even him.

One minute passed, then two. Betty jumped up and dashed towards the door quicker than Jughead could stop her. He followed cautiously, still waiting for another flash of hellfire to come his way. But when he reached the stone steps all he found was a calm, exhausted Father Mason and Betty, hovering over him, trying to find some way to help him.

“She’s gone,” Father Mason said from his seat. He wheezed out a cough, and Jughead noted a grey streak running from his temples that hadn’t been there before. “For now at least.”

He waived Betty away, thanking her for thinking of him, and nodded to Jughead.

“I wondered when I might see you next,” he said to Jughead, offering a hand. Jughead took it, and Father Mason clasped it in both hands. “But maybe next time call first.”

Father Mason dropped Jughead’s hands and reached for the railing. He leaned on it heavily, groaning as he took each step. They watched warily, both aware of the tremendous toll the fight had taken on him. Betty kept opening and closing her mouth, full of a million unanswered questions, but to Jughead’s relief she didn’t ask a single one.

It wasn’t until the old wooden doors were shut that she turned to Jughead. He held up a hand.

“It’s a long story,” he offered. Betty pursed her lips at his answer and he continued quickly. “Let’s go get someplace safe, and I’ll fill you in.”

“Fine.” Her voice was petulant and not for the first time Jughead wondered whether it hurt her to keep so many questions inside. “But you’re going to have to start with how on earth you didn’t catch on fire.”

He raised an eyebrow and matched her stride as they walked down the road. “Pretty sure –“

“I mean in the church,” she said, cutting him off with a roll of the eyes. “And how you were able to drink consecrated wine? Last I checked, vampires tended to avoid that sort of thing. And what in Gaia’s name was that thing with the Latin? No one’s ever heard of –“

Jughead let Betty’s stopped up curiosity spill out of her while his mind wandered back to Father Mason, wondering not for the first time what type of creature he really was.

#bughead fanfiction #bughead #thank one (1) heartunsettledsoul for me posting this tonight #heads up there's religiony stuff in here fyi #so if it's not your bag skip it like the 90's toy

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likesomekindofcheese · 3 years

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Baby, It’s Cold Outside! (Ben Hardy x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: You are excited to be with your new boyfriend, Ben, for Christmas in a cabin. But a sudden snowstorm means it’s just you two alone without your families. You use the time to get to know each other a little bit better...

Warnings: brief smut-ish scene (nothing super graphic but right on the line), language, mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of families, reader being insecure, Christmas, but otherwise full of fluff

Word Count: 3K

Hello there @asphalt-cocktail. It’s I! Your puppy Secret Santa!!! I hope you enjoy it! This is for @thosequeenboys and @warriorteam1924‘s Get Down, Give Joy Event. Thank you guys for organizing something so fun that brought creativity and light in this especially dark year!

“Y/N! Your bag’s ready?! Blimey-snow’s pouring down!”

Looking down at the Dungeon’s Master Guide peeking out of your bag, you stuffed it before he walked out of the cabin and could see. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. No, not Ben. Not your new boyfriend. Your new, perfect boyfriend. You thought you could sneak a peek when he was gone to plan a campaign with some friends. But he couldn’t no. No.

Looking out, the snow falling lightly down onto your hat, you shrugged, pretending to admire it while still holding your bags.

“It’s just so pretty…and…uh, I was thinking, we could make some hot chocolate! It’s in the big blue carrier…” you improvised, pointing to the blue bag still in the car.

He gave you a biting smile and went to retrieve it. Taking in a deep breath, you stepped inside, your hands getting used to the warmth again.

Besides, you were supposed to be focused on just Ben and your family. That was what the cabin was for. A cabin that had everything: a location in the snow-inclined woods, two floors, a fireplace, and a few basics.

But as Ben opened the blue bag and excitedly got the canister, you realized at least one basic had already gone dry.

“What do you mean we’re out of hot chocolate?” Ben questioned.

You let out a little laugh at the slight pout as he tapped the container and saw two measly tablespoons of chocolate powder. You went to him and wrapped your arms around.

“We’ll get more at the store,” you promised.

He sighed in deep, accepting the feeling of your arms. Limbs stiff from travel, the stretch felt divine.

“Besides, we need to go to that grocery. I don’t know what people will bring but we need all of the basics for the family…when they get here…”

You saw lots of your decorations from home were pre-moved there into big, blue bins. Everything was set. What was missing was the people. The one element that could make or break a holiday.

“Hmm…we should get started. It’s a sad sight to come into a place that’s not decorated…” Ben suggested.

The twinkly ornaments jingled as you unwrapped them from their plastic Looking at the great green fir in the main room in the corner from the fireplace, you wrapped the tin on a bauble around a branch.

The box seemed to have every ornament in the world. It was full of tinsel that was even longer than Ben was tall. You wrapped it around together like a woman dressing in a crinoline skirt. In an hour, golden and red baubles blossomed like fruit on the greenery. Placing them on, they felt so fragile that it moved you with the tenderness Ben’s hands had when he held them. It made you chew on the inside of your lip a bit to watch him fondle them and wrap them on gently. Reminding you of every time he used them otherwise…

Which was why you could not mess up your first Christmas as a couple.

“Do you know where on Earth the topper is?” he asked.

Looking around, you noticed a little star that seemed to be the topper. It had a bottom that looked like it could latch securely to the top bit of a tree. But there was a big black button right near it.

“Huh.”

Creeping down to a plug, you put it in and pressed the button in curiosity.

At once, the star began to radiate disco lights and twirled around in a circle in a mechanical ‘whhhrrrrr” as it blasted a funky “We wish you a merry Christmas.”

Ben jumped in surprise and cursed.

“Oh my gosh…all these fancy decorations and…and this…it’s just so corny, oh my gosh!” you guffawed, wiping away a tear from laughing.

Ben found himself laughing a little too, taking it in his own hands to watch it.

“Phew okay…but let’s get it on…” he said, orderly as ever.

“Can I put it on top of the tree this time! Please!” you begged, along with fake puppy eyes.

“Alright, give it a go…” he offered.

As you stepped on a chair to reach it, you waved your arm up to get it, but you couldn’t quite reach it. Even with your arms stretched high as it could go. It was still a good deal taller than you.

“Argh!”

“You’re the one who wanted to put it on the tree!” he teased, his cheeks turning pink from the sight of you.

“Could you help me!” you asked with a slight pout.

“Of course!”

He wrapped his large arms around your waist and hoisted you up. He grunted a little bit and you felt him walk back and forth to try to keep his footing. When he was secure you kept trying to reach the topper up, but somehow you kept missing it and giggling when you did.

“Just! Put! It! On!” Ben huffed.

Finally, you reached the top and got it on. Using an extension, it was plugged in and the gaudy little top could do its magical swirl again.

Ben placed an arm around your shoulder as you watched the tree in completion.

“It’s…it’s beautiful…” he admitted.

At once your phone rang in your pocket. You ran over to pick it up and recognized the voices of your family.

They explained it plainly, but it was still sad.

“Wha…what is it? “ Ben asked, his eyes softening at the worry on your face.

“Ben…there’s going to be a huge blizzard…they already got it and…they’re stuck home. They can’t join us out of safety.”

You both sighed and he gave you a hug.

“There…it’s alright, we can make it work. The two of us…” Ben assured, patting your back. Your chest hurt with disappointment, but his hugs were always so nice and soft.

“We’ll have to wait until new years to see them…and I was so excited…”

“We can make it work. I mean-it’s a cabin in the snow, Y/N. Could be worse…”

Both of you rushed to the store. People were already there trying to get what they could before the storm could get there. Ben insisted going to the liquor store to get what drinks were available. Though among some favorite ales and beers of his, he got two bottles of champagne.

“Huh…why the bubbly?” you asked, leaning forward in your cart to see the silver wrapper around the green bottles.

Ben was very much a lad’s lad. Into rugby, soccer, sports, and pubs. Enjoying nights with the boys. It never struck you he liked drinking something a bit…feminine.

“It’s a tradition. My family drinks champagne on Christmas morning. And I’d…I’d like to drink with you on Christmas morning with you, Y/N,” he offered. You noticed his green eyes darted to the floor in a fit of bashfulness.

“I’d love that!” you assured.

“I mean…since it’s Christmas on our own…might as well make the most of it…” he reasoned with a shrug.

Once you both got home, you promptly began stuffing the groceries into the fridge. Nothing fancy. Just what you could grab and what ingredients you could see to make any special dishes. It was a holiday after all.

Let him know I can cook, I’m a good girlfriend. I’m a cool girlfriend. And a cool girlfriend cooks for her man…

Ben then grabbed you and began to kiss you passionately. Your hands ran up to his hair. His own went down to your butt.

“Jonesy!”

“We’re alone without the folks…” he teased. “We can do whatever you want…and I couldn’t leave you in that sweater all day…”

“Wait a minute….” You suggested, glancing over.

He stopped. His breathing desperate as his nostrils huffed.

“We have the entire place to ourselves…let’s use every inch of it…”

Walking over to the fireplace, you flipped open the switch. There was the sound of a fwoooom and a crackling noise. Looking over the fireplace was lit up in an orange blossom over the “wood.”

Ben grabbed a few blankets for the cold and tossed them to the ground. Soon, you both were making out passionately. Feeling the deep heat on one side, he stared at you to ask. You gave a clear nod and voiced out a breathy, “yes.”

His hands got inside your sweater and pulled it off of you in a heartbeat. You had changed into your prettiest, fanciest bra and underwear in case this would happen. And Ben approved. But they didn’t stay on you for long. He then laid you down, before removing his own clothes. You watched the orange glow of his skin. How beautiful and intimate to see his body reflected in this way and how the firelight reflected off of your own as well before desperately peeling off the last of what you wore and throwing in over the couch.

You let your anxieties soothe as you focused on the pure bliss of union and togetherness with only the fire to witness it

Little did you know that Christmas on your own meant spending time together. You were used to having Ben sleep by you. You were used to him hugging on your from behind as you stirred up some soup for lunch. Yet you both had plenty of time alone. Here in a cabin as snow blanketed to your thighs, there was precious few alone times you could get.

But what you were slow to realize that this was a bit more complicated when it came to presents. And his wasn’t ready yet.

“Ey-Y/N, where is…“

You let out half a scream and half a yelp of “no!” Ben’s golden head ducked back to behind the door as he let out a curse. You charged for the door.

“Hey, no peeking!” you insisted, before shutting the door.

“Oh! Sorry! My-my phone. Y/N! I just need it for a sec!” he begged.

“You honestly forgot it!” you replied in disbelief. You grabbed a blanket from the bed and draped it over the bed.

“Yeah it’s…it’s the band…gotta check the band! Joe’s been chatting all morning!” he insisted.

Looking over you saw that his phone was on the desk next to your messy bed with pajamas and shower towels strewn all over it. Walking over a few shoes on the carpet, you reached over and got it and handed it back.

“Just knock next time, okay sweetheart?” you ask.

“If it means you call me sweetheart again, I just might!” Ben added with another wink that made your face heat up.

Turning around with a sigh, you removed the clumsily tossed blanket. There was a long line of yarn you had been working on for a while. Knitting and knitting, albeit with joy, every change you got. Even when your fingers became sore and a little calloused. You prayed you could get it done in time. Turning the television on, you flipped to the opening of White Christmas and clicked away on your needles in a fury. It was good to have noise and maybe minor visuals. As the Haynes sisters twirled their mammoth fans in their blue dresses, you peeked at the red pile on your lap. You hoped it was a good enough present for your Adonis of a boyfriend.

Would he like it? Maybe he would like a bottle of an alcoholic drink. A watch. Something sophisticated and masculine.

But now it was too late. With a little huff you clicked away. Taking out your pink measuring tape you saw it was now the right length. Now it was time to darn off and add another prayer on top of that.

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Christmas morning you wake up because of the thin white line of daylight creeping across your room in a thin line. Everything else is darkness. Ben and you had cuddled all night and you woke up tangled up in his arms. Clothes were half strewn from the more intimate activities you had the other night. Smiling at the memory, you watch him slowly until he shows signs of waking. Rather than spend morning in an excited, sleep deprived haze, both of you grin and wake up with the feeling of being well-rested, yet still slow and relaxed.

You brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, lovie….” He yawns.

“Merry Christmas to you too Ben…” you coo back, enjoying how warm he always feels.

Both of you stay in bed under blankets for a bit. When you shift to look out the window, you see fluffy snow gently falling down.

“I can’t wait….to…”

“To what….” You ask. Open gifts?

“I…I think we could both drink some champagne…”

“Oh my gosh- you found it! On Vinyl?” you ask, holding wide LP in your arms.

In the background, your music shuffle changed to a tinkling rendition of The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

“I know I…I searched everywhere, but I found it!” Ben boasted. He swirled his champagne in his tiny glass, taking careful sips.

“But Y/N, you’ve opened my present…and there’s only one left …” he said, eyeing the red box with a plump, shiny ribbon on top.

“Ben, here it’s for you…” Nervously gulping down your champagne in one go, you force your eyes to watch.

He looks at the package with a lightness in the corner of his smile. He is still in his light blue robe. With his tousled hair and puffy lips, he could never seem so soft and perfect to you. It might be the last image before he leaves you for some Victoria’s Secret model, you muse.

You feel yourself wince as he starts to rip open the paper. He then opens the box, eyes amazed at the red pile of yarn before him.

“Oh-Y/N! This is…this is amazing!”

The pulse inside you raced and you breathed a little deeper.

“Oh- It’s warm! Where’d you get it, Y/N…I may have to shop there…” he said, as he tried it around his own neck. The smile on his face was genuine.

“I…I made it, Ben…” you voiced out.

“What? How? You make things?!”

“I knit, Ben…” you confessed.

“Oh! You knit!”

“Yes…yes I do…”

There was a pause. He wove his large fingers across the stitches.

“Y/N, that’s amazing!” he said happily.

“Wha-really!” you replied, blinking.

“Yeah!”

He took your hands in his and hugged you tight.

“You don’t think…you don’t think I’m too…too nerdy…old-school, you mean?” you ask, still blinking in your surprise.

“No! Not at all my darling!” he said, giving you a big smooch.

When you video called your parents and his to wish a Merry Christmas, he forgot to take off the scarf. He wore that scarf on your wintry, Christmas walk. Even when you settled down to eat dinner it still lingered around his neck, draping down. It grazed candy wrappers as you both had your fill of sweets, and even when you watched every special on television together.

The credits of Elf rolled by as the clock struck ten at night. Ben looked down at you as you laid your head on his chest.

“So, Y/N…is there anything you’d like to do…it’s Christmas night…and then we got that whole week before new years and the family coming over…that’s a whole week. And they’ll be ‘ere in what, four days?!”

Biting a part of your lip, you stared at the fireplace and began mumbling.

“Yes…I’d really like to…oh gah, I don’t know…”

“What?”

“Ben, can I be honest with you. Really honest? You already know about the knitting…”

“What is it?” he asked, stroking the top of your head.

“Let me show you…”

Reluctantly getting up, you ran upstairs and then returned with your Dungeon Guide.

“Have you ever played Dungeons and Dragons…it’s my…my other hobby…” you confessed.

“I haven’t!?” Ben replied.

“What do you think? Of me now?

“Nothin’ different.” He said with a shrug. He reached over to get a snowman sugar cookie on the platter before you and bit off the head.

“You don’t think I’m…I’m too…” you babbled, head whipping around as you tried to search for the word

“I’m not too much of a nerd for you?”

“Y/N, I play video games. Passionately. That’s perfectly nerdy! And why should that bother me!”

“Well we…we’ve been dating for three months and…I really wanted to impress you. Badly,” you shrugged.

“Well…I have to tell you… yu impressed me the minute I saw you.”

Grinning, you opened the book to try to explain as much as you could. To your surprise he knew a few basic things. It made making his character easier.

“We will need a few other people, but we can try it with just ourselves…” you offered. Maybe one of your own campaign friends would volunteer.

He leaned toward you with a playful smile.

“Internet isn’t bad here. I know of some nerdy blokes in need of something to do tomorrow night…”

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The next day, without shame you brought out your projects and knitted on them as Ben enjoyed his games. But every hour you wrote notes for tonight and developed Ben’s characters and helped them build their own. Anticipation fluttering in your chest for the next few hours to arrive as you listed names, races, and abilities.

It was a lovely night. You saw the snow as it drifted down by the light. It still looked puffy and like it fell out of the great dark expanse on the sky to be illuminated and then pile on the ground.

Grinning, you cupped the two cups of fresh hot chocolate and watched it for a minute. Just to savor the moment. Listening right outside the door, you bit your togue to hold back your laughter before you joined the boys again and begin the session.

Now you were truly yourself with Ben. And that was the greatest gift of all.

Taking in a deep breath, you read from the guide over the faces on the laptop screen. Seeing them light up as well as they awoke in their area and began their fantasy journey decided by markers and dice.

Now you didn’t have to hide yourself from them either. And the cute blonde next to you seemed especially happy.

“You come across a monster resembling a dog….” you narrated.

“Can I roll to pet it?” a voice on the laptop screen asked.

“Joe, No!”

Taglist: @queenlover05 @ewannmcgregor @rhapsodyrecs @gwiilymslee @cherry--coke @queenismyprimejive @itsametaphorgwil @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @isitstraightvodka @asphalt-cocktail @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @rogermeddow @chriisxvans

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pokeasleepingsmaug · 3 years

Text

First Line Tag game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

I tend to begin first sentences with names for some reason haha. My favorite is 18, because it really just sets the tone for that whole story so well!

I was tagged by @aadmelioraa, thank you darling <3 I'll tag @whenimaunicorn @raincityruckus @geekandbooknerd and @darkcloakedinfinitevoid

1. All That's Best of Dark and Bright, a Tam Lin-inspired Sihtric x Eahlswith AU: Eahlswith hates traveling with this rowdy, ragtag company of Danes a little less each day.

2. To Curse a King, a Sihtric x Skade dub-con knife kink crackship that you can't prove didn't happen: Skade does not flinch as the knife pierces the skin at the crook of her elbow, and she does not struggle against the firm hand holding her wrist in place.

3. Silver Hairpins, Sihtric x Eahlswith canon-compliant fluff: Sihtric was always happy to come home flush with victory, but this time he was even happier

4. The Heart of a Family, Sihtric captured and tortured by Kjartan and Sven, because this poor darling is too easy to whump: Sihtric can't remember how long it’s been since he's seen the sun, though he knows when night is because that's when Kjartan and Sven leave him alone.

5. The Weight Behind a Blessing, a one-shot exploring a bit of Sihtric's past and his blossoming bromance with Osferth: Osferth is not the first Christian to bless him for splinting an injured arm, although he is the ugliest, Sihtric thinks, smiling down at Baby Monk after he slips the sling over his head.

6. To Tame a Wildcat, a little bit of Sihtric x reader battlefield kink that I will never apologize for: There is no softness in him now, the son of a man known for his cruelty, a fierce man in his own right.

7. we keep pretending the sun will not rise, a piece that explores the entire relationship of Katy x Reilly x Jonesy, from when they're in high school until when they break up: Katy tries not to smile over her coffee cup at the two boys across the small plastic table, their arms pressed together, Reilly’s damp hair dripping onto his shoulders and Jonesy’s eyes wide and bright.

8. so fill to me the parting glass, Sihtric tries to comfort Beocca when he's mourning Thyra, and Beocca learns maybe the rat-faced Dane isn't so terrible after all: Beocca cannot even stand to look at him, the Dane boy that Uhtred keeps in his company, the son of the man who tormented his wife for years

9. Pulse of my Heart, she has been searching for Finan for years, and doesn't believe she will ever find him: It was a great sword, longer and lighter than most, designed to be wielded by a man who danced around his foes like a whirlwind give human form.

10. Blasphemy, Osferth, wounded and tired of Finan's incessant worrying, asks Sihtric to sing. Sihtric cannot sing: They were on the road somewhere in Mercia, and this was one of those times that Sihtric felt he’d ridden the entire length of this land, from Wessex to Northumbria, a dozen times over

11. To Throw Curses, a piece exploring Sihtric's childhood, that I wrote after wondering why Sihtric knew so much about curses: His mother is a good Christian woman and proud of the fact that she’s managed to maintain her faith despite her hardships, so maybe Sihtric shouldn’t be surprised when she crosses herself and leans forward to repeat the gesture over his body, too.

12. He Lacks the Courage, OC Thora x Ubbe, tons of angst, Bjorn is a jerk, but that's just who he is: The boat rocks to the motion of the small waves and the rowers’ work, the sun paints the sky in luminous pinks and oranges and the waves spark and dance with the color of flames, and usually Thora would love this but tonight it just feels like emptiness

13. To Lie Down With Wolves, Ubbe x OC Imogene, Ubbe is disgraced for betraying King Ivar long ago, and keeps the slave Imogene against his better judgment (co-written with @darkcloakedinfinitevoid!): Imogene hasn't seen a wolf since she was small, the winter the snow reached halfway up the side of her family's cottage.

14. Funeral Pyre, Sihtric returns to Dunholm, a lifetime after he's left it, and finally puts its ghosts to rest: When Sihtric sees Dunholm rearing up on its high crag, bile rises into his throat but he keeps his face impassive because his friends are watching him.

15. Fighting Lessons, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x Steve Harrington, Steve teaches his lovers to fight in the Wheelers backyard, because none of them feel safe even though the gate is closed. Post season 1: He’s had this fear in him, ever since the cabin, that someday Nancy would be without her handgun.

16. Counting Breaths, in the dark when she can't sleep after falling into that place, the only thing that keeps Nancy sane is the rhythm of Jonathan's breath: Inhale, one.

17. Slow Hands, modern AU, Ubbe x reader, reader runs a horse sanctuary and Ubbe is her new farrier.: Finding a farrier was always such a pain, and of course as soon as the horses had gotten familiar with John, he'd thrown his back out.

18. Captured, Ivar x shieldmaiden reader hate-fucking, AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED: “Do you really think that’s going to work?”

19. First Sight, a companion piece to my longfic Feed You the Sky. Ivar and Kára reminisce on the first time they saw each other: Ivar is an old man now, his black hair streaked with gray, and the fire in his wife’s hair is dulled but still he cannot resist running his fingers through it every chance he gets.

20. Hidden Daggers, Sihtric and Eahlswith meet-cute and first night together, and you can't prove it didn't happen exactly like this: Sihtric was the son of a dead slave girl and he loves being a free man, he loves carrying swords and serving Uhtred and wearing silver arm-rings.

#tag games #fanfic games #the last kingdom #vikings #letterkenny #stranger things

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 3 years

Text

Fool For You (2/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Part 2 of a request for @mynameisliterallycash!

When Lester said he was getting dog food, you figured he meant one or two small bags. Instead, you watched as he hefted two huge bulk bags of food over his shoulder. They each had to weigh around fifty pounds and he carried them like they were nothing. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped, awestruck by the casual display of muscle.

Dazed still, you trailed after him to the checkout. While he made idle chatter with the clerk, he was completely unaware you were wrapped up in an entirely different check out of your own. Heat rose to your cheeks, allured by Lester’s physical strength as daydreams of him literally sweeping you off your feet flooded your thoughts. He turned around, snapping you back to reality as you tried to wipe the dopey expression off your face.

“Alright then, ya ready to –” Lester stopped short, sending you a puzzled look, “Hey are ya okay?”

“What? Of course, I am. Why are you asking?” you responded rapidly, embarrassed you’d been caught staring a third time.

“Ya sure? Ya look a little red. Ya ain’t gettin’ sick or nothin’, are ya?” Lester said concerned. He reached out his free hand and pressed its back against your forehead, “Don’t feel like ya got a fever.”

“N-no, I’m fine,” you stuttered, his hand against your head sending static through your brain as you tried to come up with an excuse, “It’s just from the cold air today, I think.”

“Okay, if ya say so.” Lester shrugged as he gestured for you to follow him out the door. You cleared your throat, thankful for the gust of wind that cooled the fire trapped in your face.

“You sure you don’t need help with those?” you asked.

“These? Nah, they ain’t so bad,” Lester responded, “You oughta see some of the bucks I gotta haul ‘round. Damn things weigh a ton! Nearly threw out my back once tryin’ to throw one on the truck.”

“Never knew you were a regular strongman. I guess it never occurred to me the deer can’t carry their own dead weight.” You said with growing admiration.

“That’s what I’m there for!” Lester said gleefully as he tossed the bags in the back. He closed the bed and rested against the truck as he crossed his arms.

“Well, thanks for taking me along for the ride, anyway.” You said, leaning next to him.

“Sure thing! I love bringin’ ya ‘long like this,” Lester told you, affectionately nudging you with his elbow, “I’ll tell ya, havin’ someone to talk to wouldn’t hurt during my day job neither. Might go a long way makin’ some of the time go by. Gets a little too quiet drivin’ ‘round all day all by myself.”

“Well, would you mind if I tagged along once in a while?” you proposed, looking up at him.

“Ya’d do that? I mean, ya’d really want to?” Lester asked excitedly, “It can get kinda gnarly.”

“Sure. Why not? Can’t be any gnarlier than Bo on a bad day. It’s got to be better than sitting around getting old in Ambrose.” You said, smiling back at him.

“Ya really don’t have to, if ya don’t want.” He said, giving you the option changing your mind.

“I know I don’t, but I would really like to go with you. That is, if you don’t mind.” You could practically see him vibrating with joy.

“Mind? Course I don’t mind! We’re gonna have so much fun together, I promise! Thanks, Y/N! You’re the best!” he exclaimed, elated. He jumped up from the truck and wrapped you up in a tight hug, swinging you back and forth. You couldn’t contain you laughter, even if you couldn’t breathe with the way he was squeezing you.

Lester set you back down, leaving you with only a ghost of the feeling of his warm embrace. You lingered in place trying to memorize the sensation while he went ahead to open the passenger door for you without a second thought. Once you were seated, he closed the door and got back in beside you. He threw you a carefree smile as you took off once again.

The two of you made lighthearted conversation on the way back to Lester’s cabin. You started going back and forth about the art of catching various animals that try to make a home in your garbage. Well, it was mostly Lester walking you through the process, breaking it down by species. You listened to how he had basically mastered the art of pest wrangling without killing them. Your heart swelled hearing how insistent he was that killing them wasn’t necessary. He never wanted to hurt anyone or anything if he could help it.

You were just about to ask him a question, when he abruptly hit the brakes. You both lurched forward before falling back into your seats. You glanced around, collecting yourself from the sudden stop.

“Is everything okay? Why’d you stop?” He didn’t answer, as he began to carefully scan your surroundings, “What are you looking for? Lester?”

“There she is!” Lester shouted, pressing his face up against his window, totally distracted from your questions. He smiled back at you over his shoulder, “Follow me!” He threw his door open without another word and jumped out, anxiously waiting for you to join him.

“Follow you where? Wait for me!” you called after him. You swiftly slid out of the car and onto the ground, clueless as to why you stopped here of all places. Lester darted ahead, chasing something you couldn’t see. You did your best to follow close, but he ducked down into the grass. You jogged to where he disappeared to find him on his knees, reveling in an assault of kisses from a delighted stray dog. Surprise took over your features, thrilled to be meeting a new friend.

“I missed ya too, girl!” Lester gasped through his uncontrollable laughter, echoing through the woods, “Ya been good a doggy? I bet ya have! Hope ya ain’t been too lonely out here!”

“Who’s this, Lester?” you asked in gentle voice, immediately enamored with the dog before you. She was about Jonesy’s size, with a blonde shaggy coat. She looked young with energy and enthusiasm that gave Lester a run for his money.

“Oh, Y/N! I’d like ya to meet Buttercup!” Lester said as he separated himself from the dog’s abundance of affection, “Buttercup, this is my friend Y/N!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Buttercup.” You said as you got down to offer your hand for a sniff. Buttercup took a few whiffs before deciding you were in fact a friend. Her tail wagged back and forth as she allowed you to pet her as well, “She’s so cute, Lester!”

“I know! Ain’t she the sweetest?” Lester concurred, “I found her snoozin’ in a patch of buttercups, so that’s what I started callin’ her!”

“How long has she been here?” you asked, scratching Buttercup behind the ears as she jumped up to rest her front paws on Lester’s shoulders, licking his face once more.

“A while now, I see a few strays runnin’ ‘round while I’m workin’. So, I try and visit with ‘em, if I can. But I left some bowls to fill when I’m on my route, case they get hungry.” Lester managed to gesture to an empty bowl a few feet away from you despite being smothered by more kisses. That explained the industrial sized bags of food. “Speaking of which – you hungry, Buttercup?” she barked in response.

Lester grabbed the bowl and jogged back to the truck to fill it with Buttercup in tow. Your eyes followed after him, the dopey look returning to your face. He conversed with Buttercup like an old friend as he scooped out her food. He was so attentive and kind, listening to her response and matching her excitement. They made their way back to you, thick as thieves. Lester set the bowl down when he made it back next to you, petting Buttercup while she dug into her meal, “Now, don’t eat so fast ya get sick, there’s plenty where that came from. Ole Lester’s got ya covered.”

You let out a deep sigh, endeared by the scene before you. Lester treated every person and creature with such consideration and care; and he never asked for anything in return. He had so much love in his heart and he was willing to share it with anyone who wanted it. With as much as he gives to everyone else, you wondered if anyone had ever told him how much they care about him or appreciate his presence in their life. He deserved to have someone who could give him back all the love he put into the world.

You wanted to be the one. You would finally treat him right. He all but stole your heart and he deserved to hear it from you, even if he might not feel the same. The consequences suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much in this moment. You wanted him to know how important he really was to you, because everyone deserves to know they are loved. You needed to tell him now while you were brave enough.

“Lester, there’s something I need to tell you.” You started, heartbeat racing in your ears, drowning out all the doubt and second thoughts. He perked up, listening close.

“Ya can tell me anythin’, Y/N. Ya know that.” Lester said softly, that warm smile pulling at your heartstrings again.

“Lester…I lo–” a deafening crack of thunder cut you off. With that, Buttercup hightailed it back into hiding. You gasped as you stood, starting after her, worried she may get lost or hurt in the impending storm. You moved to run after her, “Oh no, Buttercup, wait!”

“Hold up, Y/N! Ya can’t catch her, believe me, I tried.” Lester called to stop you, “I tried gettin’ her in the truck a few times to go to a shelter, but she don’t like it. If she ain’t ready to go, we can’t make her. She’ll come ‘round when she’s ready.”

“But we can’t just leave her out here.” You said, searching the area for any sign of her.

“Don’t worry ‘bout her too much, she’s a survivor.” Lester said, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “’Sides she’s got a little hideout not far from here. I found her there a couple times and left a few blankets after makin’ sure it wouldn’t cave in on her. It’ll keep her nice and dry ‘til this blows over. Alright? She’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, almost tearing up at the thought of her shivering somewhere all by herself.

“Sure as my name is Lester Sinclair. We can even come check on her tomorrow, if ya like.” Lester offered, “But we really oughta get outta here ‘fore the rain starts.”

“Okay,” you said hesitantly, “Promise we can check on her?”

“Yes ma’am, I swear. Cross my heart.” Lester assured you, drawing an X over his chest.

You both started toward the truck once more. You silently cursed the weather for interrupting your confession. The moment had passed and the doubts had returned to their work. Despite this, the affection swelling in your chest still pulled you to act on some part of it.

Without thinking too hard for once, you took Lester’s hand in yours. He glanced down to your linked hands and then back at you.

“Are ya scared of thunder storms?” He asked curiously.

“No. Why?” You responded, confused where he got that idea.

“Ya just look a little nervous is all. Thought ya might not like thunder or somethin’.” Lester explained, “I know storms used to scare the hell outta me when I was a kid. Never used to like ‘em one bit, ‘specially if I was by myself.”

“No, I kind of like storms.” You told him.

“Oh, then are your hands cold or somethin’?” Lester asked, gesturing with your connected hands, trying to understand the reason for the spontaneous handholding.

“Uh, well, not exac–”

“Cause ya look a little rosy again. Just makin’ sure ya ain’t gettin’ frostbite or nothin’.” He interjected.

“No, I’m okay.” You told him with your hundredth sigh of the day.

“Well, just in case. Take this.” He said as he released your hand and took off his hat to pull it over your eyes with a chuckle. He readjusted it on your head, revealing the way he was beaming at you. You rarely got to see him without his trusty hat. Even with his hair being a little sweaty and sticking every which way, it was still ridiculously tempting to run your fingers through. The energy radiating from him was so wholesome and pure. Looking at him, you could swear the clouds lifted and the sun was shining all of a sudden. He squeezed your cheeks in his hands, with a laugh, “There, now ain’t that better! Nice and toasty.”

“T-thanks, Les.” You stuttered, reaching up to feel the soft fabric of his hat, the heat in your cheeks only growing more intense under his hold on your face.

“My pleasure! I gotta say ya look mighty cute right now. Helluva lot better than I ever looked.” He told you, releasing your face and patting you on the back, “Now, let’s make like Buttercup and get to shelter!”

You made it back to the truck right before the heavy rain started pouring down. Lester took off down the road again, toward his cabin. You watched through the window as the storm raged on outside, matching the storm in your mind. The time had felt so right to tell Lester everything, but now you weren’t sure. What you were sure of, however, is that you needed to tell him soon. You thought you might actually burst if you didn’t. You couldn’t keep living like this.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #Female reader #House of Wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #My writing #tw: cursing #fool for you #request

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clownistyping · 3 years

Text

A Witch & a Hick Chp.2

'Nice people like you.'

Warnings for maybe a bit obsessiveness? It's just Lester being like "She will be mine."

Elizabeth struggles to stand as her hands are sucked into the pit.

"You alright?" Lester flicks his hat and quickly rushes towards the girl, stepping over the bodies he manages to avoid the holes of meat and bones and step on the tough hide. The girl mumbles curses about karma,

"Give me my fucking dog!" Elizabeth yells and spits out the meat that landed in her mouth.

"Your dog?" Lester turns to look at the collared dog that's sitting at the shore of the pit. Lester reaches his hand down to help the stranger up, he gently grabbed her arm and tried to pull her up.

"Yes, his name is Mac." She grunts and works with the man to get out,

"Sweet dog, shoulda named him pirate or somethin' considering the ya know." Lester says, noding to the fact that the big dog has only one eye. The dog barks and spins, wanting his owner out of the pit already.

"Got yerself stuck huh? ya shoulda watched out for the cliff. Tried to tell ya." Lester talks as he tugs her out,

"Is this your pit?" Elizabeth asks and finally they snatch her hands from the pile. Lester falls back holding the girl who sighs, his eyes unconsciously fall over her skirt, it shows her thighs that are now covered in blood and bruises. Elizabeth looks up and he looks away,

"Not really, but I use it a lot so it should be." Lester helps the girl stand, she catches her breathe and looks over the pile. Then at him.

Lester notices her face doesn't cringe, and she doesn't look away. Instead she smiles at his jewelry, raising her hands she jingles her own bone and crystal jewelry. Lester shows a wide smile,

"Thank you for helping me out of there, I should've listened to you but I was too focused on Mac." She looks at the dog behind her, who jumps and smiles.

"There's my baby! Don't run off again you know that scares me." Elizabeth holds the dogs face and he licks her face as she laughs.

"You ain't from around here are ya?" Lester asks and steps from the pit, He leans on his truck.

"Nope." She answers, not explaining her backstory for him.

"Then where are ya from?" Lester asks and raises a brow,

"Everywhere and no where. I'm a traveler kinda." She shrugs and stands up straight, brushing off the guts stuck to her skirt.

"Like the circus?" Lester chuckles,

"Some call me that, but I'm no clown." She shrugs and sighs.

"Is there a towing place somewhere around here? My van's engine blew or something."

"Yeah not too far from here is Uh," Lester hesitated to say, he looked the girl over.

He's never seen anybody like this, no one that's come through wasn't disgusted by him. Wasn't disgusted by the pit or the smell, no one wore bones or crystals in their hair.

He's met people who insulted him to his face, he remembers as a child in foster care the kids would run from him when he showed them the roadkill he found. His brothers even look at him like he's a freak, he only wants to share what he enjoys with them.

"I can actually tow it with my truck." He'll keep Ambrose a secret, he'll keep her a secret.

"Really?" The girl says and Lester nods, he puts his hand out. The girl studies his hand, and Lester pulls back. Rubbing his hand on his jeans it does nothing to rid of the dirt and blood.

"Oh sorry about that. I uh, ain't the cleanest person."

"Hey, same here." She smiles and slaps her thighs, Lester blushes.

"Elizabeth Mayfield." She puts her hand out to shake, and Lester smiles he takes her hand and shakes it.

"Lester Sinclair." Jonesey barks from the truck,

"Oh right, and that's my girl Jonesey."

"Aw She's adorable. Can I pet her?" Elizabeth asks and Lester nods, he pulls his hat down to hide his red face.

Elizabeth goes to the truck and Jonesy instantly sniffs the girls hands, and licks them clean.

"Aren't you a pretty girl?" She coos and pets the dog who licks her face, Mac huffs from behind her.

"You are too, Mac, but that don't mean I can't be petting other dogs." She sticks her tongue out to her dog who barks.

Lester walks closer to the girl, once again studying the girls figure unconsciously. Elizabeth turns to face Lester,

"So that offer for towing my van still available?" She says, and puts her hands on her hips.

"I can pay you, but not a lot." Lester shakes his head,

"No need to, just doing it out of the kindness of my heart."

Elizabeth smiles,

"Thanks hun, Oh and by the way. Sick jewelry." Elizabeth winks and gets in the passenger seat, Mac joins and hops in the girls lap.

Lester laughs to himself and gets in the drivers seat.

"Meet Chariot!" Elizabeth slaps the vans hood and Lester closes his trucks door,

"Oh she's a beauty!" Lester smiles, the van being a dodge caravan, the white exterior painted with eyes, suns and moons, beautiful flowers and swirls.

"Thank you, painted her myself. Got her as a graduation gift from my parents." Elizabeth smiles,

"Man wish my girl looked that pretty, just got a rust bucket but she gets the job done." Jonesy barks from the window.

As Lester connected the front of the van to the bed of the truck, he spoke.

"So what made ya be a traveler?" He asks and tightens the latch,

"Everything really, we'll everything but my parents." Elizabeth opens the vans back door. Lester finishes the latch and joins her at the entrance,

"Oh wow." He smiles,

"Whats with all these crystals?" He sees the hanging crystals and the candles placed in cupholders.

"You some kinda witch?" He pokes at the books on the mattress, and smirks.

"Yes actually." He blinks but laughs,

"Real funny," he flicks his hat and Max suddenly jumps in the van, grabbing his bone from the bed.

Elizabeth smiled quietly and Lester laughs again,

"Ya serious huh?" He backs up an inch and accidentally sits on the mattress. Mac huffs and moves over.

"100 percent, thought it was obvious." She lifts her wrists with the bracelets and fidgets her necklaces.

"Just thought you were….goth." He uses air quotes and Elizabeth laughs,

"Well I guess I am, but some call me a hippie too." Elizabeth says and Lester slaps his thighs,

"Alright! Well let's get these beauties moving huh, boy?" Lester goes to pet Mac who quickly leaves the van,

"He's not a big people person." Elizabeth says as Lester leaves the van she shuts the back doors.

"Thanks again for taking me, Lester. It's rare to find nice people like you." Elizabeth says and gets back into Lester's truck, Lester joins her with Mac.

Lester looks at Elizabeth, she's petting Jonesey and Mac.

"You're telling me." He smiles and Elizabeth smiles back. He's fully comfortable with somebody, with another human. Not just an animal.

He can't let her leave, can't let her get hurt.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #self insert #self ship #oc x canon #canon x oc

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lanadeljones · 5 years

Note

It’s All Hallows’ Eve and something has went awry in greendale. A succubus has been let loose, but doesn’t yet have a corporeal form. ANYWAY. It possesses Betty. Her boyfriend, Jughead, has to wildly fuck her brains out until she’s rid of it. 😈 Happy Halloween!

Thank you so much for this fun prompt!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798906/chapters/50706698

Jughead blinks slowly as he tries to process the jumble of unfamiliar words that were just spoken to him. He stares blankly at Toni’s grandmother, the outline of her body growing fuzzy as his eyes strain. She repeats the same words again, slowly this time as if the ancient dialect would somehow become clearer.

Shaking his head to clear his mind his eyes travel to Betty who's tied to the bed in the corner of the room. He watches as she licks her lips towards an uncomfortable Sweet Pea, his eyes looking in every direction but hers. She slinks a stocking clad leg towards him, putting it on full display before him in an attempt to entice him to her bed.

He clicks his tongue in disapproval as Sweet Pea’s eyes start to wander toward Betty before shooting wide eyed to Jughead. He gave him an apologetic look as he makes his way to the other side of the room, shuffling away from a now pouting Betty, his cheeks growing warm from embarrassment.

“Can you please explain all this to me” he looks over the eccentric woman’s shoulder to Toni. Betty begins to rattle her handcuffs against the iron headboard, her singsong voice traveling across the large room.

“Juggie” she exaggerates the last syllable of his nickname, “come have some fun with me. I can make you feel so good,baby” her sweet voice melting like cotton candy.

“In layman’s terms” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “and quickly please” he adds as he readjusts himself in his seat. Silently cursing himself for his body reacting to Betty’s sultry undertones.

Tony smirks and pushes herself off the counter she was leaning on, walking forward to take the seat her grandmother got up from. “It’s simple, Jones” she begins as she leans forward and flips the ancient book around so the text is facing Jughead. “Betty here has been compromised by a succubus of sorts” she flips a yellowing page and points to a picture on the page.

“What? Like she’s possessed?” the panic evident in his voice.

“Not exactly possessed, more like she’s being influenced by it”

“Okay” he sighs, “how do we fix this? Where did this thing even come from?”

“Greendale” Toni’s grandmother replies from over her shoulder, her hands busy grabbing various glass bottles and vials from the many shelves of the bookcase. “I’ve been hearing whispers of this traveling around. Seems it’s made its way down Sweetwater River and into our sleepy little town” She throws the final ingredient into her stone mortar and picks up the pestle, “luckily there’s a simple solution”

“Okay, great” Jughead moves to the edge of his seat, “what is the solution?”

“sexus appositi” she replies effortlessly, the various charms and beads woven in her hair sparkle in the lights as she grinds her concoction to a fine dust.

Jughead leans back and runs his hands in his hair looking at Toni for a translation, his brow furrows as he realizes she is avoiding his gaze. He moves his foot under the table and gently knocks Toni’s foot to get her attention, startling her out of her daze.

“Sex Jones” she sighs as she crosses her arms, “you have to literally fuck this out of Betty” she laughs at the expression that forms on his face. She looks over Jughead’s shoulder and nods her head to Sweet Pea and the other people in the room, she leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. “Don’t worry, you can do the rite here. If anything goes awry we will be around to assist you, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about”

Jughead stares at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing in confusion as his mind races with questions. Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention, he turns his head and watches as the Sweet Pea and the other work around the room lighting numerous candles and pouring what looks like black salt around the bed that Betty laid in. He looks back at a smirking Toni, “you can’t be serious right now” he asks flatly.

“Relax Jones” she reaches behind her for the small glass vial her grandmother is holding out for her. “You and Betty are perfectly fine” she begins as she pours the clear liquid onto her fingertips before leaning forward and running her wet fingertips across Jughead’s forehead, “just chalk this up to a wild kinky all hallows' eve night” her fingers trace an unfamiliar symbol across his skin.

Jughead’s eyes flutter close as he takes a deep breath, he can feel his body relaxing as the oil melts across his skin. Once his eyes opened the lights were turned off, the room now casted in a warm red glow from the lit candles. He watches Toni stood up from her chair and walked over to her Grandmother by the door. He rises, scraping his chair harshly, and begins walking towards them. His eyes connecting with Betty for a moment, he jaw clenches at the sight of her sitting in the bed, the slit of her dress hiked up to expose her long leg and the dip of her hip bone.He stops in front of the two Topaz women, their eyes twinkling in the candlelight as they look between the bed and his face.

Toni steps forward and flicks her wrist in the air sharply, the metal clink rings in the quiet room as the handcuffs around Betty’s wrist are unlocked. “Remember to have some fun tonight, Jonesy” she smirks as she turns and walks out the door. “Also” she calls over her shoulder, “the room is sound-proof” she winks as she leaves the room, a flash of pink hair is the last Jughead sees of his friend.

Shaking his head at Toni’s teasing he turns to the elder Topaz, a thank you on the tip of his tongue, before she stops his words with a shake of her head. With a smile on her face she raises her hand between them, a mound of fine red dust nestled in her palm. In a flash she blows across her open hand and sends a cloud of red across Jughead’s face.

Staggering backwards Jughead coughs as he inhaled the red dust, his breathing grew heavy as he blinks repeatedly from the stinging in his eyes. The heavy slam of the door rings in his head as the questions forming in his mind slowly melt and swirl away and being replaced with one thing and one thing only. Betty.

“Juggie” Betty’s singsong voice floats across the room, beckoning him to look towards her. She’s standing to the side of the bed, her body hidden in the shadows of the candles except for the milky white skin of her exposed thigh of her dress.

Jughead licks his lips as his eyes follow the movement of Betty’s hands running along the plunging neckline of her silk dress. A growl growing in the back of his throat as her hands ghost over her breast and down her torso towards the tie that held the flimsy wisp of silk together. With one strap between her fingers she bites her lip as she begins to pull it loose, her eyes heavy with lust as the black fabric falls to her feet. Jughead palms the front of his jeans at the sight of her in nothing but her black stockings, the crisp air bringing her breast to tight peaks. She brings her hand out in front of her and lures Jughead forward with the flick of her finger.

Jughead rushes forward, the lust pumping thick in his veins as he picks Betty up and slams her against the wall behind her. He brings his mouth to hers in a clash of teeth and tongue, both battling for dominance with Betty the victor. He places sloppy wet kisses along her sharp jaw and down her neck, licking and sucking against her pulsepoint. His hands grasps her waist tightly before running down to her core, groaning deeply when he feels how silky and ready she is for him. Wrapping one of her legs around him he grinds heavy against her glistening core, his hand gripping her thighs as he whispered hotly into her ear.

“I want to give you everything. Tell me what you want. I’m yours, completely” he rubbed himself against her with each declaration.

Without saying a word Betty brings her hands to his shoulders and begins to push him down to his knees and towards the place she craves him the most, her sharp nails digging into his muscles as he slowly makes the descent, his eyes never leaving hers. He falls hard on his knees and he licks his lips in anticipation at the sight of her before him. She runs her hands through his hair, her nails scratching his scalps and she guides him towards her. They both groan in unison when his long tongue makes its first swipe, her sweet taste on his lips sends him into a frenzy. Betty closes her eyes and relaxes against the cool wall, getting completely lost in the sensation Jughead as she releases her hand from his hair and brings them up to squeeze and rub her breasts. Reaching closer to her bliss she brings her leg to drape over his shoulder, pressing her heel into his back she pushes him closer to her as she falls over the edge and her vision shatters as she climaxes.

She removes her leg from Jughead, her stocking rolling down her leg in the process. She watches with heavy eyes as he straightens up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, her chest heaving as her body is coming down. She moves her hand to swipe at the beads of sweat rolling down the valley of her breasts, but Jughead’s quick tongue beats her to it as he licks her dewy skin. He sucks harshly against the sensitive flesh of her cleavage, leaving a swirl of purple bruised skin before placing a delicate kiss against it. The action reignites the fire burning in her belly, suddenly feeling ravenous as her fingers tug and pull at the fabric still covering Jughead, the fabric ripping and tearing in her haste.

Jughead steps back as he kicks off his jeans, stumbling slightly as he kicks the denim clear across the room. Betty watches him with keen eyes, her back flush against the wall and her hips swaying side to side waiting for him. Growing impatient, Betty brings her hands down to her core and drags her digits between herself and circling her aching bundle of nerves. With her head down and her eyes enthralled with her hand’s movements she gasped with Jughead suddenly appeared before her and quickly removes her hand, a small whimper escapes her lips at the loss and morphed into a groan as he wrapped his lips around her wet fingers, licking her clean.

Once satisfied, he releases her hand and steps towards her, bracing his hands on either side of her against the wall. His body completely surrounding her against the wall, his skin brushing lightly against hers. With a subtle jerk of her hips against his sets him off, and he lowers his hands to the back of her thighs and pushes her up and wraps her around his hips, opening her up fully to him as he fully slips inside her. He hisses at the overwhelming feeling of her hot and tight around him, his hips still for a moment as he steadies himself.

“Come on Juggie, give it to me” Betty hotly begged in his ear, her hands gripping the side of his neck, her thumb rubbing against his pulse.

Jughead snaps his hips, a deep moan rumbles out of his throat, and he picks up his pace before forming a sinfully dizzying rhythm. Betty's loud moans and her nails against his flesh encouraging him to go faster,deeper,harder. Both lost in each other the loud crash of the picture falling off the wall breaks them out of their reverie, shards of glass scattered across the floor. Jughead pushes them off the wall and walks towards the bed with Betty still tightly wrapped around him, tossing her on top of the bed.

He looks at Betty writhing and moaning on the bed, opening her legs wide for him as he climbs up the bed. He crawls between her legs, his eyes devouring her glistening skin, he grabbed her hips and lifts her off the bed and twists her so she’s facing the mattress. He runs his hand down her spine, he feels himself growing impossibly harder at the sight of her on all fours, sweat pooling in the dimple of her lower back. Wrapping his hands at the crease where her hips meets her thighs he watches as he lines himself up to her and enters. Building a fast rhythm, the slap of their sweat slicked skin filled the room as they both reach higher and higher to euphoria. Betty’s voice growing higher and higher with each quick snap of his hips.

Sweat runs down his temples, a few drops fall into his eyes, with fuzzy vision he reaches down and grabs Bettty’s breast, squeezing as he continues to pump into her. He grabs her waist and twists his body, bringing Betty to suddenly be on top. Betty hovers over him, hair wild with a mischievous look on her face as she lines herself up.

“Gorgeous” the breathless words escape out of Jughead’s lips as she stares wide eyed at the beauty above him.

Betty smiles at his admiration and leans down and places a hot kiss against his lip, gently nipping his bottom lip as she moves away. She drags her nails down his lean chest as she straightens herself up and moving over his eager member. Closing her eyes she slides down his length, fully taking him in, her mouth slack as the moan leaves her throat at the new angle this position provided.

Jughead grabs her hips and begins rocking her against him, lifting her slightly before bringing her down against him. Betty brings her hands down on his lower stomach to aid in her quickening movements, her fingers digging into his skin the faster she moves. Jughead begins to lifts his hips off the bed to match her movements, resulting in Betty crying out and arching her back. With her head thrown back she moves her hands up her body to her chest, pinching and tweaking her hardened nipples.

“I’m close Juggie” she yells as her hips begin to move sloppily against him, her hands grasping for him in a desperate attempt to feel more of him.

Jughead stills her hips between his hands and begins to pump into her steadily. His body desperate for its own sweet release, he picks up his pace as he begins to feel the fluttering of Betty around him. Knowing Betty was on the brink, he brings one hand down and rubs her swollen clit, ripping a scream out of Betty at the added sensation.

“That’s it baby. Let go” he commands as he adds pressure to his hand’s movements.

Betty slaps Jughead’s hand away from her hip and plunges herself fully against him, wailing as she comes undone. Jughead’s vision goes white as he feels Betty’s tightly squeeze around him, milking him and taking everything he is giving her. Still moving his hips inside of her as he empties inside of her he feels Betty’s walls slowly flutter as she is coming down.

The final clench around Jughead steals the breath out of him, the unexpected force startled him. He snaps his eyes open to look at her and he tilts his head to the side at the sight above him. Betty is frozen in a state of ecstasy, her head thrown back with on arm across her chest while the other is across her torso. Panic starts to creep up his spine at the rigid state of her, he begins to run his hands over her thighs in a feeble attempt to awaken her, his only solace was the light rising and falling of her chest signally that she was still breathing while in this state.

Jughead watches her closely for any signs, his hands rubbing up her legs and her lower back. Suddenly a wisp of black smog flows out of her slack mouth, slowly building in density the longer it tickles out and forms above him like a cloud. Once the last of the black substance leaves her mouth, Jughead watches the black mass swirl and glide across the room before slipping underneath the thin open space under the closed door. The moment the mass is completely gone, Betty gasps.

“Juggie?” Betty asks groggily as she takes deeps breaths, her small frame beginning to move on more.

“Shhh, baby” Jughead reassures her, rubbing soothing circles against her thighs. He smiles at the big yawn that Betty doesn’t even try to hide from him. “Come here” he lifts her off of him and lays her down besides him. He chuckles at the sight of her rolled down stockings gathered around her ankles as he helps remove them.

He pulls the comforter back from under her and brings it up over the both of them. He curled himself flush behind her, one arm under her pillow and the other hand is combing through her hair. He moves her hair out of her face as he places light kisses against her shoulder blade, his legs sliding to tangle between hers. He places his head against the plush pillow as Betty’s breathing evens out as she falls deeper into sleep. Bringing his arm to wrap around her middle he gently scoots her flush against his chest.

“Happy all hallows' eve, my love” Jughead whispers as he places a gentle kiss against Betty’s hair.

Betty hums contently as she burrows her face deeper into her pillow.

#riverdalevents #Mini ask game #bughead drabble #Supernatural AU

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rawmeanderson · 5 years

Text

like the way.

ft. josh anderson warnings: this is literally all smut ok, and there’s drunkenness? word count: 3.5k i have nothing to say for myself, but is anyone actually surprised that i’m posting a fic about bye week three weeks after the fact??

You still felt a little bad for crashing Josh’s bye week trip, but the guys had all assured you that they didn’t mind having you there. Several friends from college lived in the LA area now and had been telling you to visit for ages. Josh had no problem asking the guys if you could tag along, just to mostly fly with them and share the house they’d booked. You did your own thing during the day for the most part, and it was nice to come back to a plush bed and your boyfriend after a day of catching up with old friends.

The plan had been to meet Josh and his teammates for dinner, but after spending the majority of the day at the Getty museums, you’d somehow ended up with a headache. When you’d called Josh to tell him you were just going to back to the house, being the sweetheart that he was, he offered to skip dinner to be with you. You’d promised that you’d be fine, that you’d take some painkillers and lay down when you got back. That’s exactly what you did too, after stopping to grab a quick bite to eat for dinner, knowing that being hungry wouldn’t help your headache.

Hours later, you wake up to the sound of the bedroom door opening as light from the hallway floods into the room. Squeezing your eyes shut, you grumble sleepily, turning your head to press your face into the pillow. You hear Josh curse and close the door quickly, and you relax into the mattress again, grateful for the darkness.

Josh stumbles as he moves further into the room, and you doze for a while until you feel the movement of him climbing into bed with you. You hum in sleepy appreciation as he settles behind you, arm looping around your waist. Leaning into his familiar frame, you reflexively turn your head back toward him for a kiss. You’re so used to coming in late after a game, and in your sleepy state you forget for a moment that you’re not at home.

He tastes like wine and chocolate, and you smile sleepily at him in the dark before nuzzling into the pillow. “How was dinner?” you ask softly, taking a deep breath as you try to stifle a yawn.

“It was really good. Jonesy picked this really good wine,” he tells you, making you exhale a quiet laugh. “How’s your head?” As he speaks, he brings a hand up to smooth your hair back and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

“Headache’s gone, thank god,” you respond, your eyes falling closed again as you talk. He had changed into a pair of sweats when you’d been dozing, you realize, and you’re grateful that the warm weather has him sleeping shirtless again. He’s warm pressed against your back, such a comforting feeling that has you nearly falling asleep again. “I grabbed a burger earlier and obviously got some sleep, so I think I was just exhausted.”

You’re surprised to hear Josh laugh softly then, and you’re about to say something before you feel his arm around you move to run his hand over your waist slowly. “Yeah, I’m exhausted too, since you kept me up until almost 2 this morning,” he mutters as his fingers pull your hair away from your neck so he can kiss your skin. “I’m glad there’s no more headache.” His lips are still against you as he speaks, moving up to your hairline.

The contact makes goosebumps rise along your skin in an instant and your body arches back against him. “How much of that wine did you have?” you ask, giggling as his hand squeezes your hip lightly.

“A bottle and a half,” he answers and you can feel him shrug. A scoff leaves you and you’re grinning as his hand slips under your shirt. “I haven’t seen you all day.” His hand is warm as it moves up your waist until his knuckles brush over the curve of your breast.

The contact makes your thighs squeeze together and you realize how wet you are already. Your core is starting to ache for him, hips instinctively pressing back toward him. You’d realized a while ago that it doesn’t take much to get you going when he climbs into bed late like this, because you’re so used to him coming home late from games and being in need of post-game sex. It was damn near Pavlovian, but when his hand moves under your shirt to brush his thumb over your nipple, your mind immediately goes blank as you gasp.

His cock is starting to harden in his sweats, you can feel it pressing against your ass and you say his name quietly. You can feel him grinning against the skin of your neck, then his lips ghost over your pulse-point to make you whine. Your clit is already throbbing, and when his thumb drags over the hardened peak of your nipple again, he has you practically panting for him already.

“Fuck, I love you,” he tells you, the words muffled into your skin. All you can do is nod in response, knowing that if you opened your mouth to speak, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from groaning loudly. You can hear faint music and the chatting of his teammates coming from the living room, and you bite your lip as he hums against your skin.

Your hips grind back against him again, and his cock is already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. He makes a pleased sound, his fingers rub idly over your nipple before his hand moves away from your breast. You can hear your heart racing as as his hand moves down your body again until it’s slipping beneath the band of your leggings and into your panties.

His name leaves your mouth as a breathy moan and acting on muscle memory, your thighs parted for him. By then, you’re half dizzy, pelvis rocking toward his hand just slightly as you seek out friction. He knows what you want but doesn’t give it to you, his palm just resting against your mound. Of course, he’s still kissing your neck, doing everything in the world do make you squirm against him.

“Please, Josh,” you whimper, your hand moving then to grip his wrist in an attempt to move his hand lower. He lets out a breath of laughter against your neck, tilting his head enough to kiss along your jaw as his hand finally moves.

The pad of his middle finger drags over your clit lightly before moving through your folds. He decides to stop wasting time, immediately sinking that same finger into you slowly. When your pussy clenches around the digit, he groans into your neck. A shiver shoots down your spine as a second finger joins the first, a soft gasp slipping past your lips.

“You’re already so wet for me, baby, mm,” he murmurs into your skin, his nose pressing into your hairline. You nod, biting your tongue to keep quiet when he starts to curve his fingers inside you slowly. When his fingers start to rock into you, you moan despite your best efforts and your eyes squeeze shut. Your hand comes up, reaching behind you to curl your fingers in his hair, just needing some part of him to hold onto.

He feels so good and he knows exactly what he’s doing, dragging his fingertips over your g-spot as works on leaving a mark at the spot on your neck that always drives you crazy. If it didn’t feel so good, you’d tell him not to leave a mark, but you’ll just wear your hair down for a while. You curse, the sound high and whiny before you tense back against him when you hear someone―you think it’s PL―laugh in the living room.

Josh exhales a quiet chuckle and his mouth leaves your neck to press his face into your hair. “What, you worried someone’s gonna know we’re fooling around? Worried they’re all gonna know how much of a slut you are for me?” he questions, his tone so gentle in contrast to his words. You can’t even think clearly enough to respond beyond your hips jerking against his hand greedily.

You know your skin is flushed, and eager for some skin to skin contact, your hand moves to start working the shirt you’re wearing up your body. He realizes what you’re doing and much to your irritation, he pulls his fingers from you, lifting his fingers to your mouth. Immediately, your lips around around his fingers, sucking your wetness of his digits.

He’s moving quickly, his fingers leaving your mouth quickly to start helping you get your shirt off. Once you were pulling it off over your head, he turned his attention to your leggings, tugging them down down your hips and thighs along with your panties. He’s speaking to you softly, but you can’t quite hear him as you shift to get your bottoms off completely.

When you lean back into him, his bare chest pressing into your back, the contact makes you practically melt against his body. “Josh, fuck me, please,” you whine, biting your lip as you feel him shifting behind you enough to get his sweats and underwear down.

“I know, baby,” he assures you as he shifts down the mattress a couple inches. His hand slides over your waist then down between your thighs to guide your legs open for him.

The head of his cock slides over your entrance and you inhale sharply, hips trying to wriggle against him for whatever friction you can get. He squeezes your thigh where he’s holding you and nips at your shoulder blade lightly to make you arch toward him. You feel his mouth curve up into a smile where it’s pressed against your skin, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

His hips press toward yours again a second later, letting the head of his cock rub through your folds. An unstoppable whine rips through you, and in that same moment, you hear footsteps in the hall. It has to be Boone, considering his room is the only other one on this side of the house. Again you tense, but Josh doesn’t stop moving, aligning himself at your entrance before pressing into you in a single, slow motion.

The sound that leaves you is filthy, a throaty moan that you’re desperately trying to keep quiet. You can still hear footprints in the hall, closer to your door, and Josh still has you whimpering. It’s hard to even keep your eyes open, so you don’t even bother, just letting your head loll forward. His mouth moves to your neck immediately, dragging the blunt edge of his teeth over your skin, and you press your hips back toward his greedily.

You can feel his cock practically throbbing inside you, leaving you so satisfyingly full that you’re quickly growing impatient. Whining his name, you shift your hips in an attempt to find whatever friction you can get at that point. He hums into the skin of your throat a second later as his hand settles between your thighs again, rubbing firm circles against your clit.

“Show me how bad you want it, sweetheart, fuck yourself on my cock,” he tells you, the words half muffled against your throat in a tone dark enough that it makes you shiver. You make a pouty sound, still so sleepy as you press back towards him again.

This time, the head of his cock drags over your g-spot, making you inhale sharply as he continues to toy with your clit. It feels so good that all you can do is repeat the motion, rocking against him as best as you can. He makes an appreciative sound as he nips at your shoulder blade, making your cunt tighten around him.

You’re already panting, struggling to catch your breath as you settle into a lazy rhythm. He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you gasp at the change in contact. His mouth moves over your shoulder, up your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses against your skin.

“Fuck, Josh,” you groan, feeling yourself throb around his length as your ass presses back into his hips eagerly. A string of low curses leaves you as he takes the chance to grind against you, exhaling a moan of his own into your neck that does nothing to stop your orgasm from building.

With your back pressed against his chest, you can feel that he’s tense, likely from the effort of holding himself back from pounding into you. His fingers are still toying with your clit, earning low whimpers out of you as he sucks at the spot on your neck that always turns you into a mess for him. You’re absolutely soaked, you can feel the wetness on your thighs as he touches you, making the slide of his cock pressing into you just that much better.

“Wanna know something?” he asks, humming softly into your skin. Josh waits for you to nod, the motion coming with a low whimper as you bring a hand up to your breast to thumb over your nipple lightly. “Boone heard you last night.” Of course, he pauses to hear the whiny sound you let out before continuing, still toying with your clit as you fuck yourself on his length. “You kept him up, baby girl, and I’m sure he’ll hear you tonight too, when I’m fucking you into the mattress.”

A chill shoots down your spine, making your body jerk, and your hand moves from your breast back to tangle your fingers in his hair. When you tug at the dark strands with a whine, his hips rock forward into yours before he can stop himself, and it’s almost enough to throw you over the edge. The low growl that sounds in the back of his throat tells you that it’s becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep still.

“Shit, Josh, holy―” is all you can get out before he fucks into you again, despite his previous efforts. Your jaw tenses as you try to hold back the moan that the motions forces out of you, turning your head enough to press your face into the pillow in an effort to keep quiet. With your orgasm right there, you’re all but shaking against him, hips still pressing back toward his as roughly as you can.

“You’re right there, beautiful, c’mon,” he murmurs into your hairline, rubbing quick, rough circles against your clit as you lean into him for more contact. “Cum for me, baby, let me hear you. Let Boone hear you.”

Part of you really hates that those words are what pushes you head first into your orgasm, but it all feels too good to care. With your eyes squeezed shut, you pull hard at Josh’s hair again, moaning desperately for him. He groans into your neck at the contact, fucking into you just enough to drag your orgasm out as you squirm against the mattress. You’re not even fully aware of the filthy sounds that are leaving you, and you can’t even be bothered to care as he sucks a mark into the back of your neck.

When you finally start to come down, you’re panting as your cunt flutters around him still, and you’re glad he’s giving you a moment to recover. His hand leaves your clit, trailing his wet fingers up your body slowly as he holds you back against him.

“Such a good girl,” he slurs into your neck, and you can tell that he’s grinning. He’s grinding into you still, just the right amount of friction to make you needy for another orgasm, and you make an impatient sound as he starts to untangle himself from you. “I’m not going anywhere, relax.” His words come with an easy chuckle as he pats your hip, motioning for you to turn over for him.

When you move, his cock slips from you, making both of groan as you shift, propping yourself up on your knees. His hand moves over the small of your back lightly as he settles on his knees behind you, making you shiver while you nudge a pillow out of the way. Normally, you know he’d be a tease, making you work for it, but the wine has obviously made him eager.

You can hear him stroking himself as he watches you, and you’re about to say something to hurry him along when his hand settles on your hip before guiding his cock into you. The stretch at this angle is different, making you lightheaded and dizzy nonetheless as he fills you again, his hips pressing flush against the swell of your ass.

Josh doesn’t even wait long enough to make you whine for him, his hand squeezing your hip as he pounds into you. He’s keyed up after being so still for so long, leaving you gripping the sheets as his hips slam into you again. It’s obvious that he’s pulling out all of the stops, trying to get you to be as loud as possible for him, and you decide that there’s no point in trying to hold back.

“Baby, fuck,” you whine out, trying to push back toward him as his hand rubs over your back slowly. The head of his cock is dragging over your g-spot, making it damn near impossible to keep your eyes open.

His rhythm is rough and uneven, and you decide it’s probably got something to do with how much wine he had at dinner. Still, you’re gripping the sheets, letting needy sounds fall freely from your mouth as he fucks you into the mattress, just like he’d said he would. Josh is grunting behind you here and there, saying your name every so often as his rhythm gets even sloppier.

Josh curses loudly as his hand slides around your hip to settle between your thighs, finding your clit with ease. “C’mon, sweetheart, I want you to cum with me, wanna feel you again,” he tells you, and you respond with breathless groan as you nod.

“Harder, please, goddammit, Josh,” you whine out, knees feel weak as you slump against the mattress a little more. He keeps you upright, hips snapping into yours as he rubs tight circles against your clit.

You feel your pussy tightening around him, and you tug hard at the sheets just to have something to hold onto. Panting, you push back toward him as roughly as you can, starting to get needy for another orgasm already.

When Josh nudges your thighs open a bit more, the angle of his thrusts changes and there’s nothing you can do to stop the throaty moan of his name that leaves you. He makes an appreciative sound and doubles down, pounding into you hard enough that your body is rocking forward with each movement. His name leaves you again, mixed in with a low string of curses as his hand on your clit continues to rub firm circles against you.

“Shit, c’mon, y/n,” he groans, his hips slamming hard into yours. You doubt he’s going to last much longer, not with the way he’s panting and cursing behind you. “Fuck, I wanna hear you, baby, want everyone to hear you.”

Even if you’d wanted to be quiet, by that point, you knew it was impossible. Josh finishes a short moment later, hips slamming hard into yours as he spills into you. It seldom fails that his orgasm brings on yours and now is no exception, a loud shout leaving you as your body arches.

Your second orgasm hits you hard, leaving you pressing back toward him as roughly as you can in search of more friction. Nothing feels better than fucking yourself on his length like this after he’s cum inside you, loving just how soaked and messy you were for him by then. He slows but doesn’t stop, meeting your weak thrusts to fuck you through your orgasm. Your hips are aching and a series of low whines leaving you as you start to come down.

Behind you, Josh is still breathing heavily, and his hand on your clit had moved to rub your back softly. If you had to guess, you’d say he was grinning as he leans over you to kiss your shoulder blade softly. You’re dazed and weak, still propped up for him until he pulls out and coaxes you onto your back.

Trying to catch your breath, you grin up at him as he settles against you, his arm already looping around your waist. You pull him down to you enough that you can kiss him lazily, your fingers threading through his hair.

“No more wine for you on this trip,” you murmur with a teasing giggle, and you catch a glimpse of his grin before you kiss him again.

#josh anderson smut #janderson #**#columbus blue jackets imagine #columbus blue jackets smut #josh anderson imagine #we out here #and yes i reused the gif from the only place i call home don't @ me #mine

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arsonforcharlie · 5 years

Text

it’s that time of the week so you nerds get a fuck squad recap!

I feel like it’s notable that I have a chart up on my wall now where I can give my players gold stars if they do something really good and creative. So that’s fun and definitely not sparking competition at all!

We started with a discussion of “wailing widows” that I misheard as “whaling widows” and long story short I have a new comic book idea

Sergei, Maddela, and Saida see a crowd of people with weird, distorted faces staring at them. Maddela and Saida get Rhonia to cast Face of the Devourer on them so they fit in, while Sergei covers his eyes to not see them.

Yoni: “I would argue that only friends make each other piss themselves.”

Yoni slams the curtain that Rhonia ripped off the wall into the bag of trading.

“You pull out an old dirty sock.” Saida: Is that someone’s crankin’ it sock? Oh, wait, I can’t say that, you’ll lose followers on tumblr.”

Cue a discussion of that one time I got an anon saying they unfollowed me because of the ghost cum thing.

Saida: “Oh yeah, I remember that.” Sergei: “I don’t but there’s so much I don’t remember.” Saida: “Maybe you should lay off the party drugs.” Sergei: “MAYBE YOU SHOULD LAY OFF MY DICK”

Sergei blindly walks forward to a table in the middle of the room with a chalice on it, and triggers a trap that causes a hidden crossbow to fire at Maddela and an illusion to make it look like he did it.

Rhonia: “I put the crossbow bolt in his hand” “His hands are still over his eyes!”

They conclude that he clearly didn’t do it because dude didn’t even have a crossbow.

There was then some discussion of a poutine pinata which sounds like such a bad idea.

Sergei hits the chalice off the table with his orb and stick with his eyes closed, setting off a bolt of shadow that feels like flame.

Yoni scoops up the chalice with the bag of trading and gets a “not like top tier but about as good as you can get at the fantasy sobeys bottle of wine.” It turns out the door is unlocked and they can just walk through. The next floor is filled with a thick gray mist.

Sergei: “I have my stick out. My STICK.”

Sergei: “I didn’t go to fuckin’ wizard school! I went to clown college!”

Maddela strikes a match to see if the mist in the room they are in is flammable. It isn’t, but I feel like that’s a notably bad idea.

Sergei walks around the perimeter of the room with a rope tied around his waist and finds the door. However, when he tries to open it, a spear of ice springs up from the floor.

Meanwhile, the rest of the squad use the rope to navigate across the room to the door, and come across a weird stone box with a gold key in the bottom. When Rhonia reaches in to get it, a swarm of monkeys are summoned, one of which grabs the key before they scamper away into the mist.

Saida: “Does everyone have a lightning-proof hazmat suit? Because I have a plan!”

spoiler nobody had that

Saida also suggested Maddela melt the ice spear by dirty dancing on it. “Roll a fort save in case you froze your box!”

Maddela does melt the ice spear with some alchemist’s fire, but then immediately triggers another one by trying to unlock the door again.

Rhonia: “I’m just gonna fill the box with bananas!”

She does use her magic lunchbox to fill the pedestal with bananas, which lures all the monkeys in for snacks. After a few horribly bad perception checks, Yoni manages to see that one of the monkeys has the key so she hits it with her starknife and it dies.

Maddela: “How much of your hatred of wizards is part of your history?” Saida: “I had a really bad run in with one once.” Sergei: “Yeah, ran into his dick with your vagina!”

The next room has a table with a mask on it, two poufs on either side, and a door. Saida puts the mask on immediately and it affixes itself to her face and she can’t get it off. When she and anyone else sit on each of the poufs, the other people get a quick lil fortune reading.

Sergei gets told that he’s trusting someone he shouldn’t, so his player was kinda freaking the fuck out the rest of the session. Who is it? Who knows? I’ll never tell. TEE HEE HEE.

(about Rhonia) “You want to help, and you can be very inventive but sometimes you may not think your actions through.” Saida: “Didn’t need a mask to tell me that!”

(also about Rhonia) “Your god is pleased with you... and so is another.” Yoni: “Better not be Desna! Stay away from my god!” “Other people worship Desna.” Saida: “And Yoni’s going to cut them all!”

Saida: “You know how there’s visual learners and audio learners? Maddela’s a vaginal learner.”

The next room is set up like a museum, with a huge T-Rex skeleton in the centre and glass display cases lining the walls.

Sergei: “This is the necromancy room and there’s a giant skeleton in the middle. I’m so excited. Not.”

He crosses to the door and touches it, which wakes the T-rex that attacks the squad.

“Does a 22 hit?” Maddela: “No.” “Oh, cool.” Maddela: “I’M STILL LYING!”

Maddela uses her wand of binding to bind the T-Rex while she runs to go unlock the three locks on the door.

Yoni: “I do one, uh, blunt damage” which brought him to 69. Nice.

Yoni: “Does anyone have ropes to tie his feet together?” Saida: “This is like turning into a caper, i love it.”

The rest of the squad beat it up, but then it reforms into two smaller T-Rex skeletons.

Saida:"That giant dinosaur lizard will never know the satisfaction of eating poop again. Because it’s dead.”

Saida: “Don’t you have, like, healing blast?” “Oh, you mean healing gun.”

Saida: “I haven’t been listening to how Yoni’s class works.” “It’s cool, neither has she.”

“You’re being very strategic tonight. Are you feeling okay?”

Rhonia animated one of the smaller T-rexes and named it Jonesy, so that’s a thing now. They tied up the other one instead of killing it so it didn’t reanimate as more smaller boys. God they can be smart on occasion.

Saida: “Apparently my bloodline gives me a bonus to knowledge religion. But I don’t want it because that sounds dumb.”

They move on to the next room, where the first-level wizard apprentice who was manning the door watches them stomp on in with a new t-rex pal and decides to let them go to see the council once they’re done with the meeting that they’re having.

Presented with the opportunity to get what they want in about ten minutes if they just wait peacefully, the squad all gangs up to try and kick down the door and all roll terribly.

Coming out of the door is Tarand, who, from what they can hear, has had some sort of ideological disagreement with the rest of the wizards and is resigning from his position here.

Saida: “We’re never gonna get as high level as he is because all we do is SHOP and FUCK”

she’s not WRONG

Saida, trying to figure out if he’s been exposed to the mushroom spores: “are you feeling hepatitis-y?”

Sergei: “Have you had to roll any saving throws?” Tarand: “I’m a very powerful wizard. I know what that feels like. I have not.”

He is very confused when they ask about the mushrooms and refuses to tell them why he’s leaving, so Yoni Flapdragon, in a fit of anger, punches him in the dick. And almost crits. It isn’t confirmed so it only does 3 damage, but still. That’s a thing they’ll have to deal with later.

They go in to meet the wizard council, who did just watch Yoni punch Tarand right in the dingalings. Most of them also don’t know much about the mushrooms, except one halfling with a wrinkled face named Effin who tells them that she had been working on something similar, but it didn’t work out so she sent it to the toxic waste disposal. When the squad points out that pretty much anyone can get in there, there’s a bit of confusion- there are supposed to be a bunch of curses and things protecting it.

“Academia, you know how it is.” Rhonia: “Isn’t that a nut?”

Saida’s player, tearing up laughing: “I’m just thinking of how much funnier every fantasy genre would be if there was bullying!”

Saida and Yoni stay behind to chat with the council, while Maddela, Sergei, and Rhonia go up to the greenhouse to get some of the asinus densissima flower to put an end to all this.

Maddela: “I don’t know anything about wizards and I’m not about to learn!”

Saida, trying to chat up the head of enchantment by talking about the school of magic: “Of course I know what enchantment is, it’s when you kinda rub magic on some pants and it sticks.”

He’s not impressed by her magic knowledge.

Maddela proceeds to buy some poison from the greenhouse, which has mushrooms visibly covering some of the glass panes. While Effin makes a deal with her, Rhonia gets Jason the skeleton to climb up onto Jonesy the T-rex skeleton and throw a trowel, breaking the glass of the ceiling and letting the mushrooms in.

SO THAT’S COOL

#fuck squad recaps #there are SO MANY FUTURE PROBLEMS

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likeshipsonthesea · 7 years

Text

An Always to Rely On

Nursey Week Day Two: Simplicity

When Nursey knocks, it isn’t Shitty that answers the door. It’s a young blond guy who’s taller than Nursey. He grins, but his eyebrow quirks up, confused. It’s evident than not many people knock on the door of this hockey frat house at seven o’clock on a Thursday.

“Sup, man?” the guy says, seemingly friendly.

“Uh, is Shitty here?” This is stupid, so stupid. Who knows if Shitty is even home? Even if he is, why would he bother to entertain Nursey?

“Yeah, he’s up in his room.” He starts to move aside to let Nursey in, but then pauses. “Uh, how do you know him?”

A part of Nursey almost wants to laugh at that. How does he know Shitty Knight? He knows him loud and brash, without a filter to hear of and a tendency to take off his clothes at inopportune moments. He knows Shitty soft and quiet, half-high but mostly just emotional, in the dark of midnight when everything seems far away but heavy at the same time. He knows Shitty like a lifeline, like a lighthouse in a dense fog, like the one good thing out of all the rest.

“We went to Andover together,” Nursey says. Then, when the guy seems less likely to let him in at this statement, he adds, “We’re friends.” Are we still? Nursey wonders, agonizes over, hopes.

“Oh, uh, cool. Up the stairs, first hallway on the left, first door on the right.” He moves aside, letting Nursey in. “I’d knock first; he might be naked.”

“Yeah,” Nursey says. “Thank you.” He heads inside, following the man’s directions and trying to ignore the group of guys sitting on the couch. Too much, too intimidating at this moment. He finds the mentioned door and hopes that it’s Shitty’s and not some random guy’s. He knocks.

“Come in, brah!” Shitty’s voice calls back. Nursey sighs a breath of relief and pushes it open. Shitty is lying on a bed, boxers and socks the only clothing in sight, and when he looks up to see Nursey he grins so widely that Nursey feels the air in the room making space for it. “Nursey! My main brah. Come ‘ere!” He stands, pushing his laptop off of his lap, and grabs Nursey in a tight, wonderful hug.

“Hey Shits,” Nursey whispers into Shitty’s shoulder, closing his eyes and just relishing in the warmth.

“You fucker.” Shitty pulls back, still beaming. “You didn’t tell me you were visiting.”

“It was a last minute kind of thing.” Nursey shrugs. He’s always considered himself to be good at hiding his emotions, but Shitty narrows his eyes at whatever he sees on Nursey’s face. Nursey doesn’t know if it’s because he’s shit at concealing anything or just shit at lying to Shitty.

For a moment, Nursey is terrified that Shitty is going to ask about it, the reason why he’s here. He doesn’t know how to verbalize it yet. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Shitty asks. But Shitty, because he’s Shitty, doesn’t ask. The suspicious expression on his face disappears after a moment and he grins again.

“It’s great to see you, man. We haven’t talked since, what, July?” Shitty scrunches up his face. “Shit, that long?”

“Hans’ Fourth party,” Nursey says. “Well, his dads’ party.” The Fourth of July party hosted by The Hans Casterman was the event of the summer, and Nursey, as a teammate of Hans’ son, Hans Jr., was one of the lucky few who got an invitation. As did his parents and Shitty and his parents. Before the fireworks started, all the kids grabbed some liquor more expensive than any liquor needs to be and went to the roof. There they played a mix between Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare that ended with another one of Nursey’s teammates- Jonesy- stripping angrily in an attempt to prove his dick wasn’t the tiniest on the team.

Shitty laughs, probably at the memory, and shakes his head. “As much of a crapbag that kid is, he throws good parties.” Nursey nods, eyes going down at that. Hans, at the first July 4th party of his that Nursey went to, asked Nursey if he “even celebrated the Fourth of July” because he was “like, foreign”. “C’mon dude, let’s play Screw.”

Nursey manages to grin at that. Not even the worst of days can stand up to a good game of Egyptian Rat Screw.

“I brought some of Jiggy’s stash if you wanna make it more interesting,” Nursey suggests as they sit down on Shitty’s floor. Not that he feels like getting high at the moment, but he figures that Shitty might enjoy it more. He has no reason to be entertaining some high school kid now that he’s at college.

Shitty waves him off, rummaging through his bedside table drawer. “Nah, we don’t need that.” He pulls out an old looking deck of cards and turns back to Nursey. He smiles. “Let’s keep it simple.”

Simple, Nursey thinks as he watches Shitty shuffle. Oh how I long for simplicity.

When Shitty’s finished shuffling, he splits the deck and hands half of it to Nursey. Shitty starts, flipping over a fairly useless four, and off they go.

“How is Jiggy, by the way?” Shitty asks, then curses as Nursey flips over a Jack. Shitty returns with a seven and grumbles as Nursey takes the pile.

“Good. Market’s getting bigger. He’s got half the school buying from him and I’m pretty sure he’s giving some to Harrison as security.” Shitty slaps a sandwich and takes the pile, but there were no face cards in it, so Nursey doesn’t mind.

“Totally. I saw Harry and Camilleri smoking up behind the gym my junior year.” Shitty curses loudly and colorfully as Nursey slaps a pair of kings. Nursey smiles at the creativity of the expletives. “How’s my love?”

Nursey snorts, flipping over an ace. “Actually he seems kind of bored since your stunt in February.” Last February, when Shitty came back to Andover to visit for Nursey’s birthday, he snuck into Headmaster McGuire’s office and stole all of his underwear. Then he strung them up in the main hall like a banner, the tightie-whities being the centerpiece. The vein in McGuire’s forehead nearly popped when he saw them.

“Ah, I’ll have to come back to visit.” On Shitty’s fourth card, he puts down a queen and sighs a breath of relief. Nursey gives back a six and a nine, so Shitty takes the pile.

“You should,” Nursey says, and tries not to make it seem like he’s desperate. Needy people don’t keep friends well, he’s learned.

“I will,” Shitty says, pausing in putting down another card to look Nursey in the eye. “I promise.”

There’s a conflict in Nursey’s body when he hears that word. Promise. Broken comes to mind first, if it was a word association game, but it’s not. Promises were maybes, when he was younger. If his parents had promised to come home early, it would be a toss-up if they’d walk through the door before nine, claiming that nine was early in Beijing, where they were doing business. Promises turned Nursey into the master of words he is today- he learned, through trial and error, that to get them home on time he had to make them promise to be home before seven New York time. But by the time he had learned this, they stopped promising so easily.

When he got to Andover, he met Shitty. Shitty, whose father had connections, whose grandmother was on the committee for every major association ever, whose grandfather probably owned his own country. His mother, well, she was an anomaly, but knew how to conduct herself in society anyway, and was very well read and a, um, writer. At least, this was what Nursey’s parents told him when he brought up Shitty being one of his new friends at school.

Shitty was nothing like Nursey expected him to be. He yelled at one of the other freshmen players at the first practice for saying something homophobic. At the first party, he went around to the new recruits and made sure they weren’t drinking too much. After a couple kids in the grade above his started making comments about Nursey being an “affirmative action” kid, Shitty punched one in the face even though Shitty has about zero knowledge on how to fight. When he turned back to Nursey, mouth bloody from the responsive hit, he grinned.

“Why’d you do that?” Nursey had asked, still afraid that one of the douchebag’s friends would take a swing at him, next.

“I’ve got your back, man. Promise.” It was one of those moments, the kind a literary kid dreamed of. The moment when a word and a definition finally made sense. When you understood it well enough to use it yourself. Every time Nursey made a promise, he would remember to be as stubbornly present and honest as Shitty was. He would remember the feeling of safety, like a blanket locked around his shoulders, like an always. And it is an always. Sitting here, now, on Shitty’s floor playing Egyptian Rat Screw, is proof of that.

“Thank you,” Nursey says after a long pause. Shitty flips over his card, then Nursey does his, and on they go.

It goes on endlessly, as Egyptian Rat Screw usually does. Nursey forgets about the time, the reason he came here, everything. Shitty keeps asking about the old crew even though they go through the ones he actually likes within the first half hour. He tells Nursey about Samwell, how awesome everyone here is. Talks about these two freshmen d-men who are basically soulmates, finishing each other’s sentences and shit like that. Mentions a guy named Johnson who lives across the hall and talks about “how weird it is to be in an outside narrative that could possibly be canon but isn’t really” all the damn time. Raves about his captain, Jack Zimmermann, and how fucking great of a guy he is. His voice gets softer, sweeter, when he speaks about his new manager, Lardo.

There’s a knock at the door, but not the one Nursey came in through.

“Come in!” Shitty calls. The door to the bathroom pops open and actual Jack Zimmermann pokes his head in.

“It’s late, Shits, you should-” Jack cuts himself off when he sees Nursey. “Oh, hi. I’m Jack.”

“Nursey,” Nursey says. “Uh. Hi.”

“It’s getting late,” Jack says, looking back at Shitty for a moment. “You two should get to sleep. We have practice in the morning.” He nods at Nursey, once, and then disappears behind the door.

“Oh, wow, it is late.” Nursey looks at the clock. 2:05. “Count your cards, then we’ll hit the sack.” Nursey has twenty-seven. Shitty has twenty-five. He laments his loss as he tosses a pair of sweatpants to Nursey, then gets in his bed. It’s not huge, but it fits the two of them well enough. Shitty turns off the light and they both stare up at Shitty’s ceiling, silent.

“Did you hear about Jamie?” Nursey says quietly, half-hoping that Shitty didn’t hear him.

“Chatty? No. What happened?”

“Got disowned.” Shitty sucks in a quick breath, but even the shortness of it can’t hide its shakiness.

James Chadwick was a sweet blond boy with a laugh that scrunched up his eyes. He laughed so much that it took a month for Nursey to figure out his eye color. He’s two years older than Nursey, left Andover for college in August. He’s always wanted to be an artist. He’s good at it, too. Damn good. He’s selling pieces already at eighteen, though he’s not well known. His parents- mother the CEO of a major publishing house and his father an executive at a company that sells soaps- always wanted him to go into business, like them.

Two days ago, Nursey’s mom mentioned offhand that the Chadwicks had disowned that creative son of theirs. She had said creative like it was a dirty word. He called Jamie up and asked about it. It was true; he had told them that he was quitting college and moving to California because there was an opening at a low-level comic company that was willing to hire him as an artist. It wasn’t what he was aiming for, but it was a start, and college wouldn’t help him in his ambitions, he had decided. His parents hadn’t taken it well.

When Nursey said he was sorry that it had happened, Jamie had laughed bitterly and said, “It was worth it for the looks on their faces when I told them I was gay.” Jamie had also been Nursey’s first boyfriend. But that wasn’t what had made Nursey take a car all the way to Samwell. Jamie may not need money for a college degree, but Nursey knew that he would.

“They found out he was gay?” Shitty asks, because he doesn’t think about the creative thing. His mother is a writer; anything he wants to do will be accepted.

“No. That he was an artist.” Nursey almost laughs at how stupid it sounds. He almost cries at how familiar it feels. He does neither. It hurts, still.

Shitty doesn’t say anything for a while. It gives Nursey space to think about his own situation. He wonders if his parents would even care enough to disown him. As long as he didn’t make them look bad, he’s sure he could do whatever he wanted. They could lie to their friends and say he was going into business, or law maybe.

But maybe they would care. Maybe they’d yell, maybe they’d react. There is a small part of Nursey that wants that. Wants a reaction. Wants emotion. Wants something. But he’s never liked being yelled at, so he doubts he’d actually enjoy that kind of moment. He just- he doesn’t know what would happen. What will happen. None of it is simple, the situation, being his parents’ child. He wishes it was so hard that he feels the strength of it in his chest.

“If they disown you, I’ll pay for your college,” Shitty says eventually.

“Shitty-”

“No, I’m serious.” Shitty sits up, pulling the blanket with him. Nursey sits up, too, and pulls his knees into his chest, staring at Shitty from over the tops of them. “My mom loves you, she could totally convince my dad to pay for it. And-and even if she can’t, I’ll do it myself. I’ll be a kickass lawyer. I’ll make bank. It’s that simple, I’ll do it, I promise.”

And there it is. The stubbornness of a promising Shitty Knight has never been a maybe in Nursey’s life. It’s cemented now, Nursey can feel it. Despite the improbability, despite everything that could go wrong, he knows it will work. Because Shitty promised. Because it’s that simple.

#nursey #derek nurse #nurseyweek #check please #angst #also #happiness #friendship #and #shitty #shitty knight #my fic #i didn't plan on giving my nursey week fics long ass names #but somehow it's happened #seriously guys this week is going to be so sad #and so angsty #and have lots of shitty knight #and andover

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classicrewind · 7 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows

Thanks to the help of a 6 hour flight home and in-flight cocktails, I present chapter three!! @scarletrossetti this one’s for u!

Chapter Three

“Wake up, sleepy head. I made coffee.” Jimmy slowly opened one eye to see Robert’s face mere inches away from his. He groaned at the sight, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re a beautiful sleeper JimJam, real peaceful.” Robert teased him, tugging lightly on a strand of Jimmy’s hair. Jimmy batted Robert’s hand away before sitting up.

“Oh fuck off.” Jimmy stood up slowly from the couch in Robert’s sitting room, wincing from the pounding going on in his head. He was not a morning person. He could hear Bonzo talking loudly in the kitchen to someone, and he cursed him at that moment. Could you be any fucking louder?

He stretched his arms and followed Robert into the kitchen. “Who’s got breakfast going?” He called aloud as he walked over to the cupboard, pulling down a mug.

“Well, good morning to you too, Pagey.” Peter called back to him, seated at the breakfast bar. “Did Jonesy say when he was getting here? I don’t exactly have all day.”

Robert shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. “No idea. Probably soon, though.”

Pouring himself a cup, Jimmy turned to Peter. “What is this ‘meeting of the minds’ you’re talking about?”

“I’d like to get the conversation going on getting you guys back together, properly. I wanna see what you guys have come up with in this ‘hiatus’ and see if we can’t pull together for another album. People were talking at the charity concert last night, and they wanna see you guys together again. And I agree. You sounded great and I think it’s time to see if you’re ready to make music again.”

Taking a sip, Jimmy pondered the thought. He had wanted the band back together for awhile now. He never really felt like himself unless he was playing with them. However, he hadn’t really come up with anything that would be suitable to bring to the table for this next album. He’d been slacking, and it was so unlike himself. Nevertheless, he was ready to get back in the studio, and back on the road.

He was torn from his thoughts by a light rapping on the front door, followed by John Paul’s head popping in through the crack.

“Sorry I’m late, the girls were giving me trouble this morning.” John Paul stepped through the door, with a newspaper in his hand. Offering it to Robert, he made his way into the kitchen. “Oh, and this was on the front porch.”

Robert looked puzzled. “Huh, I don’t get the paper. Must be the neighbor’s.” He set it down on the kitchen counter before turning to the stove to get breakfast going.

Peter got up from his seat, pulling the paper toward him. “It’s got a note on it.” He then proceeded in reading the note aloud. “‘Hope I did you all justice. Wonderful job last night.’ It’s from someone named Anna?”

Cracking an egg into the frying pan, Robert turned back from the stove. “Oh, Anna! From last night! Such a sweet girl. She’s Jimmy’s friend. Or, maybe, a little more?” He shot Jimmy a wink before nudging him with his elbow.

Jimmy scowled, taking a sip of his coffee. Peter wasn’t listening, as he was busy reading the article Anna enclosed. He headed to the sitting room, looking for his pack of cigarettes. Locating them, he stepped out the front door into the morning.

It was looking to be another sunny afternoon, not too hot, not too cool. Jimmy fished out a lighter from his pocket, placing a cigarette in his mouth. Hearing the door open behind him, he turned to see Bonzo step out. “Can I bum one? I seem to have lost mine last night. At least I think I lost them, maybe I smoked ‘em all. Can’t really remember.”

Jimmy said nothing. He lit his cigarette before silently handing the pack over, along with his lighter. Bonzo swiftly lit a cigarette, taking a short drag before turning to Jimmy. “So. Anna. Seem’s cute. I like her.”

Once again, Jimmy said nothing, simply shrugging his shoulders. He took a long drag off his cigarette, wishing Bonzo would silence his chatter. But he barreled on. “Yeah, first time I’ve seen you hang around a respectable girl in quite some time, Pagey. How’d you find that one?”

He knew that Bonzo wouldn’t put it to rest until he responded. Blowing out a stream of smoke, he turned to him. “Train ride. One of those ‘right place, right time’ kind of things. I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“Kind of young, Jim. Heh, what is she, like twenty years old? You’re practically an old man! I know, I shouldn’t talk, I mean, we all are. But damn, it feels like just yesterday it was 1973.” Bonzo clapped Jimmy on the shoulder, taking another drag.

Jimmy turned to Bonzo once more. “I don’t know how old she is, probably twenty something. And who fucking cares, man? There’s nothing even going on between us. And I’m not old.” He let out a small chuckle punching Bonzo on the arm.

Flicking his cigarette into the lawn, he headed back inside.

“Jim, you should read this. It’s quite good. Spectacular, really. Probably our best review yet. Anna did a lovely job.” Robert said, shoving the paper into his hands. Looking down, he began to read. ‘Charity concert hits a record high with Led Zeppelin’

Jimmy grabbed a seat, reading on. ‘Last night’s concert was a large success, raising record-breaking funds that will go toward assisting in AIDS research. But the real success of the night was the performance by Led Zeppelin. First time back on stage in over two years, they picked up right where they left off, not missing a beat. Plant was on top of his game, reaching new vocal heights not previously heard since ’79. John Paul Jones was electrifying on his solo in ‘No Quarter’ sending the audience into a trance, paying some sort of homage to early impressionist-era composers. John Bonham brought the audience to its feet with fantastic groove and time, blasting away in ‘Rock And Roll’. But it was lead guitarist Jimmy Page who stole the show. With breathtaking skill and precision, he finessed his way through ‘Stairway to Heaven’ and ‘Heartbreaker.’ His technical efficiency reached an all-time high last night as he shredded his way through the set. It was truly an honor to witness this soul shattering performance, and anyone who was in the audience last night could feel that there was a special ‘something’ in the air. Zeppelin hit their mark from the first chord, and it only went up from there.’

Jimmy felt a smile spread across his face. They never received good reviews. Critics hated them. But he couldn’t stop himself, this review was glowing. He stood up, dropping the article onto the counter. “It’s good. Nice to read positive reviews every now and then.”

“Oh, Jim. Don’t be so modest. She wrote a wonderful review! And we never get good reviews. I was starting to think we were just seriously misunderstood. But maybe not. Anna gets us!” Robert said, snatching up the article, holding it tight against his chest. “I’m keeping this.”

Jimmy shook his head at the sight before turning to Peter. “So are we going to start this ‘meeting’ or what? I’ve got plans today.”

Peter nodded before turning to John Paul. “So, we’re thinking it’s time to start the next project. Next album. Tour maybe?”

Before John Paul could respond, Robert interjected with plates of food in his hands. “Alright, but first, who’s hungry?”

The sun was directly above head when Jimmy stepped out of the cab to the steps of University. He didn’t know what he was thinking coming here. He didn’t even know if she’d be here, but as soon as he read the article, he knew he wanted to see her. And this was the first place he thought to look.

Once on the campus, he wandered until he hit an admissions office. Entering, he approached a woman at reception. “Excuse me, could you locate me to the nearest faculty and staff directory? I can’t seem to remember the location of an office.” Jimmy ran a hand through his tangled curls.

The young woman gave him a knowing look, most likely trying to place where she had seen him before. After a moment, she turned to a filling cabinet next to her before pulling out a catalog. “This has a complete listing of all the current faculty and staff for this academic year, along with office locations and hours. Hope this helps.”

Taking the catalog from her hands, he sat down scouring the index, trying to find her name. Anna. Anna what? Shit, what’s her last name? It was written on the article. Fuck. He flipped to the English and Literature department and decided to go through alphabetically for anyone with the first name Anna.

He was unsuccessful until he reached a Professor Paul Andrews. Under his name was an Anna Whitmoore, Teacher’s Assistant. Building 6, Floor 3. Room 313. Standing up, he returned the catalog to the reception desk before heading out to the center of campus.

Jimmy wandered the expansive courtyard until he reached a tall tower of a building. Most definitely offices. Sure enough, it was the sixth building. Stepping inside, he reached the elevator, making his way up to the third floor. He lit a cigarette as he made his way down the corridor. It was empty, completely void of people.

He scanned the doorways as he made his way down the hall, stopping in front of office 313. Looking up at the plaques on the door, it read: P. Andrews, followed by A. Whitmoore.

He took a drag as he knocked lightly on the door. There was a brief moment of waiting before it was opened by an older man, who looked to be in his late forties.

“Can I help you?” He asked, opening the door all the way. He looked irritated before his face broke into a smirk. “Wait a sec, I know you. You’re Jimmy Page. Holy shit.”

Blowing out a stream of smoke, Jimmy nodded. He wasn’t expecting this. Jesus, I hope she’s in there. I don’t want the fucking fan club here. “Heh, yeah. That’s me. I hate to bother you, I’m just looking for someone.”

The man cut him off, gesturing inside. “Come in. Have a seat. What can I help you with?”

Jimmy hesitantly stepped into the office, hoping Anna was inside. Peering around, he saw a second desk, but it was empty. Fuck. “Uh, yeah. I’m looking for a Anna Whitmoore.”

Paul looked bewildered. “Anna? Whitmoore?”

“Am I not in the right place?” Jimmy made his way back to the door. “I don’t want to waste your time. It’s just that the directory led me here.”

Paul stopped him. “No, I mean, yeah, you’re in the right place. You’re looking for a young woman with long auburn hair, amber eyes? Beautiful?”

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Jimmy let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s the one. Is she in today?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s in a lecture of mine right now. I was a little preoccupied so I sent her in my place. She should be back within a half hour or so. What do you want with her, if you don’t mind me asking?” Paul asked, beginning to gather his things from his desk.

Jimmy sat down on the sofa across from the door. “She wrote a wonderful piece for the band last night and I wanted to thank her.”

“A phone call wouldn’t do?” Paul inquired as he placed a stack of papers into his briefcase.

Growing annoyed, Jimmy stared through him. “Afraid not.”

Paul made his way to the door. “Listen, I’ve got to run. If you see her, let Anna know I’ve left work for her on the desk. Feel free to hang around until she gets back. Shouldn’t be too long. Honor to meet you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy said nothing as Paul shut the door behind him. He stretched his legs on the couch as he made himself comfortable in the wait for Anna to return. She’s going to freak out. He laid his head back on the arm rest as he closed his eyes. He had gotten barely any sleep last night. People didn’t end up leaving Robert’s until after three in the morning.

After Anna had left, the party just didn’t seem to have the same effect as it had before. He remembered drowning himself in whiskey before passing out on Robert’s couch, too drunk to head home. Needless to say, he was exhausted.

Just ten minutes. Maybe twenty. He turned on his side and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Lecture was awful. The students were sick of her teaching them. And quite frankly, she was too, not completely sure why Paul hadn’t been to lecture in two weeks. They all continued to ask her when he was returning and she was running out of excuses to give.

I need a cigarette. She pressed a sticky note inside her textbook, saving her place for next week’s lecture. She took her time erasing the blackboard as her mind drifted to last night. As much she hated to admit it, it was one of the best nights she’d had in a long time.

Paul never took her out anymore. And when he did go out, the invitation was never extended to her. But lately, she hadn’t felt like going out anyways. He always got home before her, and by the time she got home from work, he was already deep into his. She could never reach him there. Each day always started and ended the same way, and she didn’t know how long she could keep it all up. It was like being a ghost in her own home.

Anna gathered her books from the podium as she made her way out of the classroom. The campus was basically empty. It was her favorite thing about teaching class on Saturdays, there were hardly any other classes taking place.

She quickly made her way to the office tower. Punching the button for the third floor, she waited as the elevator doors came to a close.

She made her way down the empty corridor, until she reached her office. The light was on, usually indicating Paul was working inside.

Anna slowly opened the door to see not Paul, but Jimmy, deeply asleep on the couch. She gasped, almost dropping her books onto the floor. She quietly shut the door behind her and flicked off the lights. Setting her books down onto her desk she looked over at him.

He looked exhausted. Probably got zero sleep last night. Poor thing. She made the decision to let him rest while she got to work on the stack of papers Paul had left for her to grade.

She worked in silence, glancing over at Jimmy every so often. He truly was a peaceful sleeper. His face was soft, unlike the usual hard exterior he put out to the world. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked open. Vulnerable.

It was nice to see him like this, he wasn’t holding onto any residual bitterness or darkness. He had the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, and Anna couldn’t help but wonder what he was dreaming of. Probably being surrounded by whiskey, guitars, and women.

Letting out a soft laugh, she reached into her desk drawer, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Paul hated when she smoked, so she gave it up for him. But Paul isn’t here. Fuck it.

She lit her cigarette and returned to the grading in front of her. She had a large chunk of it to do before she could head home. But lately, she found herself not wanting to return home. It’s not like I have anyone to come home to. Paul’s never there, and when he is, he acts like I’m not.

Anna was pulled from her thoughts to Jimmy rustling on the couch. Anna got up from her desk and quietly walked over to the couch, crouching down to him. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Hey, sleepy. It’s just me. Anna.”

Jimmy stopped moving, and slowly opened his eyes. His cool, green ones met her warm ones, and he began to slowly smile. “Anna. Good morning.” He looked down at his watch. “Afternoon, actually. How long have I been out?”

She chuckled, standing up, taking a drag off her cigarette. “Not sure, actually. You were sleeping when I came in an hour ago. You looked so tired I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Quite a surprise for me to see you when I walked in. The light was on, so I assumed Paul was in here.”

Jimmy slowly sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, about that. I came to see you, to thank you for the article. It was wonderful, really. The band loved it, Robert especially. I think he’s gonna frame it.”

Anna blushed. “Oh, it was nothing, really. But I’m glad you all liked it. I know I’ve already said this, but you guys were really spectacular. It was easy to write, it was all just mere observations. Like the way Robert never sings the same line the same way. Or the way John Paul seamlessly weaves his way through the bass line changes. Or the way Bonzo changes between meter with the upmost efficiency. Or the way your fingers fly across the frets with ease, the way your face lights up when you know you’ve hit a solid groove. It’s magical to behold.”

Anna blew out a stream of smoke as Jimmy started to smile. “Thank you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how exactly did you get in?” Anna offered her pack of cigarettes to Jimmy.

Placing one in his mouth, he replied. “Uh, Paul was in here. He let me in. He seemed concerned that I was looking for you. Dunno what that’s all about.”

Anna shook her head, laughing. “I bet that was a treat for him. Opening the door to see Jimmy Page standing there.”

Jimmy laughed, blowing smoke into the air. “Are you hungry? Would you like to grab lunch or something? Get out of this office?”

Anna slowly shook her head. “Can’t. Got a lot of grading to do. Paul left a hefty pile of work for me here. I hate to disappoint you, but I’ll be here for awhile. Maybe some other time?”

Jimmy looked unfazed. “No worries. I’ll wait. I’ve got time.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m sure you have some plans today. Besides, this could take me awhile.”

“Like I said, I’ve got time.” Jimmy stood up and headed to the bookshelf behind Anna’s desk. He scanned over the spine of each one looking for one to pique his interest.

Anna turned around to face him. “I suggest trying Kafka or D.H. Lawrence.”

“Which one?” Jimmy asked, scouring the shelf.

Anna slowly stood up and reached over his shoulder for her favorite Kafka book. His hand reached it at the same time as hers. Their fingers lightly brushed as she slowly pulled the book from the shelf.

He looked down at her as she looked up into his eyes. She smiled up at him, and breathlessly replied, “This one. It’s my favorite. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

He gave her a small smirk as he took the book from her hands, returning to the sofa. Anna watched him crack the spine and begin to read. He immediately furrowed his brows in concentration as is eyes scanned over the words. Beautiful.

Anna returned to her work, hoping to finish as soon as possible.

It was over two hours before Anna finished her paperwork. Jimmy was still reading, in the exact same position as he was when he started.

“What do you think?” Anna blurted aloud.

After a moment, Jimmy looked up from the pages, clearly interrupted. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“What do you think of the book?”

He closed it, leaving a finger inside the book as a placeholder. “I can see why it’s one of your favorites.”

“What makes you say that?” Anna asked him, puzzled.

“The way he writes, his careful attention to details. It’s thought-provoking and so surreal that it seems almost impossible to distinguish reality from fantasy.”

She beamed at him. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Standing up, she began to pack up her things. “I’ve finished. You still up to getting lunch?”

Jimmy nodded, standing up from the couch.

They headed to the coffee shop right around the corner from campus. Sipping his cup of coffee, Jimmy turned his gaze to Anna. “Tell me about you. I feel as if I hardly know anything about you. And yet I’ve seen you practically every day for the past few weeks.”

Anna gave him a small smile. “That’s because you don’t know anything about me. What do you want to know?”

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, I was born in Cheshire and grew up there until my mother passed away, and my father packed me up and moved us into the suburbs just outside of London. He immediately remarried and I didn’t get on with my stepmother. So I moved into the city and attended college here. Um, I’m a huge bookworm, and have been since I was very little, so I guess that’s what got me into a Literature major. I’m a writer but I’ve never shown anyone my work because it’s probably rubbish. I know, I’m probably the most boring person you’ve ever met, so I’m sorry for that.”

Jimmy smiled, resting his hands on top of hers. “You’re fascinating to me. I can’t figure you out, and I pride myself on being able to read people. But you, are a complete mystery. Every time I get close to drawing conclusions, another facet of you comes into view.”

She blushed. “You make me out to be more interesting than I actually am. Wait around long enough, you’ll have me figured out in no time.”

She looked longingly down at her coffee cup before changing the subject. “How’d the party go last night after I Ieft? I imagine it went on through all hours of the night. Which would probably explain why you were sleeping in my office.”

Jimmy laughed. “Hah, yeah. It became quite boring after you left, I must admit. I wished you could’ve stayed a little longer. I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too, but the Times would beg to differ. As soon as I left you, I hailed a cab back to work to write the article and didn’t get back home until after two in the morning. Paul wasn’t very happy with me when I got back and had to turn around and head to Uni six hours later. But it was well worth it.”

Jimmy gave her a puzzled look. “So, you and Paul, live together?”

Anna fidgeted with her coffee cup before looking at Jimmy. “Oh, uh, yeah. Paul was my professor when I was studying for my undergraduate, and as stupid as it sounds, we immediately fell in love. Well, at least I did. I soon after became his T.A. when I returned for graduate work and things became serious. I eventually moved in with him and we’ve been seeing each other ever since.” Anna gave him a false smile.

“I see. Isn’t that, against school policy or something?”

“Yeah. Which is why I don’t tell anyone. But I don’t know, it’s different with you. Even though we hardly know each other, I feel this need to tell you things. I don’t know. Call it word vomit.” Anna nervously tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

Jimmy just nodded. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes piercing hers. “Does he make you happy?”

Anna felt a punch to her stomach. She just stared into Jimmy’s eyes. Does he make me happy? Does he? Did he make me happy? Yes.

She swallowed before opening her mouth to speak. “Yes.” Bullshit. And he knows it.

Jimmy continued stare at her, studying her eyes before placing his hand on top of hers. “Good.”

Anna felt suffocated. She pulled her hand away and checked her watch. 5 o’clock. “I should be heading back, Paul’s probably waiting for me.” Lie. He’s probably not even home.

He nodded in understanding before standing up. “Taking the train?”

She nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

“Let’s go.” Jimmy held his arm out, and she took it as they made their way out of the coffee shop.

This time Jimmy chose to sit next to Anna rather than across from her. She beamed up at him with her warm amber eyes as he sat down.

He said nothing as he pulled out Anna’s copy of The Metamorphosis. He held it out so they both could read at once.

“How far have you gotten?” She asked him as he flipped to where he left off.

“The end of part two. Gregor just got hit with the apple.”

“Part three is my favorite, oh, it’s so good!” Anna exclaimed a little too loudly.

Jimmy chuckled and held the book out so Anna could read alongside him. They read silently, occasionally talking about the work every so often.

Fifteen minutes in, Anna slowly rested her head on Jimmy’s shoulder as she continued to read with him. “Gregor makes me mad sometimes, like I want to shake him and yell, ‘wake up!’” She said quietly as Jimmy turned page.

He let out a soft laugh. “Me too. Poor, poor Gregor.”

Anna could hear Jimmy’s heartbeat as he laughed. She focused on the sound as she continued to read. The steady, even thumping of his heart soothed her. She found herself closing her eyes as she listened for the sound of his breathing. This is heaven.

She hadn’t gone to sleep since Thursday evening. The exhaustion was sneaking up on her, and present situation wasn’t helping one bit. She continued to listen to Jimmy’s breathing and allowed it to carry her to sleep.

Anna was woken to Jimmy speaking softly to her. “Hey, this is me. I’ll see you soon, Anna. I had a lovely day today.”

Sleepily, she smiled up at him as he made his way out of his seat. “Me too. Have a good night.”

Anna made it home around the same time as she did practically every other night of the week. Paul was in the study, as usual.

Walking in she handed him the stack of papers before kissing him hello. “Finished grading them, the rest are back at the office, filed away.”

“Great, thanks. Hope lecture wasn’t too bad.”

“It was fine. I assigned their test for Thursday, so I’d appreciate it if you were there in class on Tuesday and Wednesday. I understand you’re busy, but this is your class. I have no problem stepping in for you, but it shouldn’t always fall on me to lecture.”

Paul said nothing as he turned his attention to the stack of papers. Lost fucking cause. She let out a sigh and made her way upstairs.

She ran hot water for a bath and subsequently stripped before stepping into the tub.

She didn’t mean to come across as demanding to Paul, but she felt as if he never really listened to her. Or acknowledged the fact that she was there. It was a constant struggle for her to make her presence known these days.

She took her time in the bath, running her loofah over every square inch of her body. Paul used to love taking baths with her. He’d take his time letting his hands roam softly over her curves. They’d spend an hour in the tub just enjoying the company of one another.

The last time that happened was a year ago. The only space they seemed to share nowadays was the bed. The last time they’d even had sex was over a month ago.

It frustrated her. Perplexed her. She loved him, and yet she couldn’t seem to understand what had changed. Maybe there’s someone else.

Running soapy water over her chest, she shook her head. Not likely. He loves you, even if he has a funny way of showing it. She let out a sad laugh. Or not showing it.

Draining the water in the tub, Anna stood up, grabbing a towel from the cupboard. She dried herself off before slipping into the silk robe hanging in the closet. Damn it. He’s going to fuck me tonight whether he likes it or not.

Anna emerged from the bathroom and made her way downstairs to the study.

Paul was exactly where she left him an hour ago. He was poring over a set of books, probably preparing notes for lecture.

She silently entered the room and made her way behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing the side of his face lightly. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was tired.”

“Why don’t you head to bed then? I’ll be up later.” Paul said, not looking up.

She continued to pepper his cheek with kisses. “I’m not tired anymore. I’ve just had a bath. All squeaky clean.”

Anna turned Paul’s chair toward her. He looked up at her as she pulled the tie on her robe, letting it fall open.

“Anna, I can’t do this right now. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“It’s Saturday. You can wait until tomorrow to finish your work. Be with me. Please.” Anna proceeded to straddle him, loosening his tie. “I miss you.”

Paul let out a sigh, grabbing her hands. “Anna, I’m serious.”

She began to grow impatient. “I am too. I need you.” Before he could protest, she kissed him. It’s like pulling teeth. It shouldn’t be this hard.

She pulled him tightly to her as she straddled him. He gave in to her pull and kissed her back. He roughly pulled her robe off of her shoulders, tossing it to the floor. “Yes.” Anna whispered roughly into his ear.

He planted sloppy kisses along her collarbone as he roughly groped her breasts. She let out a small whimper as he sucked on her neck, leaving small marks. Paul picked her up and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

Once upstairs, he tossed her onto the bed as he began to unbuckle his belt. Anna scrambled over to him to help unfasten his pants.

Paul pushed her away as he stepped out of his pants. “Turn around. On all fours.” Paul ordered her as he pulled his boxers down.

Oh God, yes. Finally. Fuck me like the bad girl I’ve been. Anna turned her back to him and awaited his presence.

After a moment, she felt Paul’s hands roughly on her hips, he situated himself at her entrance before deeply plunging himself into her.

She let out a large gasp as he filled her up. “Oh. Paul. Please.”

Paul established a pace rather quickly as he began to drill into her. Anna soon was whimpering at the intensity of his thrusts. “Paul. Slower, please.”

He didn’t listen. He continued to thrust brutally into her as he gripped her hips tighter, closing the space between them completely.

Anna continued to cry out as Paul roughly fucked her. She wished he would stop. “Paul, slow down. There’s no rush.”

Ignoring her yet again, he wrapped his arm around her waist and continued to drill into her.

Anna gasped, trying to hold out as long as possible. He’s gonna finish any minute now. Just a little longer.

Sure enough, she felt Paul slow down as his thrusts grew sloppy and uneven. He let out a guttural moan as he came.

He slowly pulled out and Anna turned to face him, her amber eyes intense. He planted a sloppy kiss on her lips before climbing into bed, not saying a single word.

Anna sat still on the bed, moments away from breaking down. Well Anna, you got what you wanted. She stood up and strode to her dresser, fishing out the pack of cigarettes in the top drawer.

Glancing over at Paul in bed, he was already asleep. Typical. Bloody fucking typical. She grabbed her lighter and stepped out onto the balcony.

Closing the balcony doors behind her, she turned to face the night sky. It was a starless night, and the wind was whistling through the trees.

It was cool, but Anna didn’t feel the cold. She lit a cigarette as she stared out ahead. Inhaling as deep as she could, she closed her eyes, thinking of how wonderful her day had been before this moment.

She blew out a puff of smoke as her eyes welled with tears. She stood naked and unwavering on the balcony as she felt her world slowly begin to crumble around her.

What the fuck am I doing?

Chapter One

Chapter Two

#led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #jimmy page fan fiction #jimmy page #tomorrow never knows

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survivor-guyana · 5 years

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Episode 4: "I'm pan with a plan, and I'm here to make messy ass moves." - Maynor

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So... Dog food is salty as fuck. No wonder my dog downs the whole bowl of water after he's done eating... What the hell dog food makers

SO THIS WHOLE dare challenge this has got me GOING right now. The whole impersonations and "Who will Win?" videos are going to be BIG indicators of who is close to from my tribe. BUT DEVON.... TOOK IT TO A WHOLE NOTHER' LEVEL. A NORMAL person would do a silly one y'know? Does this guy NOT do Sarah (someone I know he's close with) and state all these things he obviously knows about her. She goes to Michigan state, has a finsta, likes to make friends in games... etc. THEN THE PICK TO WIN VIDEO.... AGAIN A NORMAL PERSON WOULD DO SOMETHING SILLY. For example: I did JD and went on about how she is CANADIAN. DEVON GOES AND DOES: Jose and how he could be tricking us... and it's actually his strategy. I can not with this being anymore. BUT tbh I'm just GLAD he's making himself a bigger target than me in case we lose. ALSO: Chelsea showing that she knows stuff about Alyssa... ummmm NO. I'm scurrrred. As say they say in French I am "le fucked" here. TBH i'm NOT lying when I say I wasn't close to my old tribe. I literally was only close to Aidan but aside from that no one else. There was an alliance of Sarah/Aidan/Devon inside of the alliance of Dani/Maynor/Sarah/Aidan/Devon/ myself. It is driving me BONKERS that Devon (the one person I NEED on my tribe right now) is unintentionally and potentially fucking his game with his videos. This was avoidable imo. Johnny didn't say "you MUST put a target on your back"... THIS IS THE GUY I NEED TO STAY WITH ME. ALSO if I ever find out Alyssa is playing me I might cry. She's literally my bitch. She's awesome. I NEVER GET ALONG WITH GIRLS IN GAMES. EVER. I just know Sammy/Chelsea are close. I could see Alyssa being close to them too so I'm just trying to make myself as relevant as possible with Alyssa because if I don't she won't feel bad sending me out. If she has doubts about it I CAN WORK WITH THAT. Sammy is totally the glue between the faves on my tribe IMO. I just know I need to somehow get closer to Sammy. I just don't know HOW! Chelsea seems super quiet and it's hard to really get a read on her. I just hope we never have to lose because I will actually cry if José pops up with an idol and my ass gets sent packing.

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So me and Jones have gotten closer and closer!!! So has me Jones and Nick as an alliance. The challenge went pretty ok but we eventually lost in the end. There's a joint tribal happening right now so we're all a little shook. The Green team is thinking of a way to stay safe through it all. The other tribe seems like it has some pretty nice peeps on it honestly lol. I watched their intro videos and Danielle's stands out the most. (I think she's the pizza one lol). The Green Team was originally going to try and get Jenna to flip back with us but we're not sure if she even values us so now we're going to try and flip with the fans and somehow vote Jenna out.

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First of, can i say that i missed jones and tim. 😭❤️ Like im so happy i finally got to talk to them. I missed my DAD Jones. We have a duo alliance going on. I brought it up right when the joint chat was made. Its going to be great. As for the vote tonight. We are going to target Nick. And hope that Jenna stays with us.

HNNNNN Jenna isn't going to flip on the fans to my knowledge which really fucks over a lot of things. Now I'm not sure if I'm gonna be targeted or Jones or Nick. TJ and JD can go home and I'll be fine but I'd hate to get out right now. In my head I'm like UGH JENNA JUST FLIP BACK TO FAVS you'll be in a good spot and won't jeopardize anything!!! And you'll almost surely guarantee Jury!!!! But on the outside Im like.. omg ya fans vs favs is over the swap did that snatched wig tea okurrt PEriod. I just wanted a simple tribal but now I'm losing my shit. If I go after Nikias I will JUMP.

Honestly my allies bore me. I guess I trust them but I don't know... this other tribe seems to suck too. I just want a favorite to leave at this point because the fans are getting slaughtered. But Thomas is an interesting situation. We definitely have a past and he's the biggest threat but the devil you know is better than the devil you don't? But I know he'll pick Jess over me any day of the week I've been a little quieter so I predict people might have doubts but I'm loyal to my alliance for now. I'm just trying to lay low and make it to the merge before I can really be a crazy cunt. Nick is apparently the vote and I'm sad because he's also a minority? But not too sad because idk him.

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updates: Maynor, Mitchell, Tim and I make an alliance maybe possibly? also,, we're probs gonna surrender to the fans lmao sorry JD :(

I think nicks going home but I’m kinda nervous. Jenna’s sticking with us fans apparently. Jonesy wants jenna out that’s all the tea I have

I was prepared to flip when they brought up Jones’ name. Like nah. I would lay down my game for Jones aka Dad. For this vote cuz i think theres a swap coming after this vote. Hopefully. It looks like its Nick tonight which i am fine with.

(i don't have the time/energy to film a video confessional) THEY'RE REALLY GOING FOR ME HUH MITCHELL THAT FUCKING RAT threw my name out to the rest of the fans because I suggested Jenna, and now they wanna vote me out (the only reason why I know is bc my king maynor told me) Maynor said he'd try to switch the vote, but right now, it's on me, and that's NOT OKAY HAHAHA. if it stays on me, then he's gonna flip. it's so INTERESTING how all I do is suggest someone who's a CLEAR MINORITY ON THE OTHER TRIBE to be voted out!! and then SUDDENLY some fake vague ass people wanna cherish her???? like suddenly she's the token person on the tribe??? that's fake as fuck and they know that. ok while i'm writing this,,, apparently the vote went off me. but it's also all up to JENNA like ARE YOU KIDDING. like,, y'all are a group of 5 people, you can come up with a decision on your own and she can go with it. like she's really chill, I like her I think she's cool, but she shouldn't be getting this treatment from a tribe that had her on the bottom before. i'm at a point where i'm just trying to get Maynor to flip to our side, because h's just as frustrated about this situation as I am. and I don't really want Nick to will me/tim his idol if we can get him to flip. ,,, so yeah *does fake ass stick out tongue thing*

This vote is a MESS. At one point it was Jones and then its JD and now its TJ and now I want to JUMP from a cliff. Also Nick is two faced. Apparently he had an idol hunt group composed of Alyssa, JD, Whats her face, and Himself. He probably used MY idol clue and I want to fite him.

Hi I’ve been very tired owo so I come out of nowhere and honestly I’m like, this is cute owo so now I’m just going to come out of nowhere when we swap, and honestly that’s cute :,)

so according to Maynor it's between Jenna and Nick, i'm still trying to work my magic on Maynor, and I think it's working. hopefully a swap is coming sometime soon though so i can kick Mitchell's ass laksdjflsdkj

I can't imagine being in a better position in this game. Think about it:

1. I got almost everyone's trust from the fans tribe. 2. I got swapfucked alongside Jess, who I barely spoke to prior. 3. I got connected with Jess and solidified a relationship. 4. I made connections with Sammy, Alyssa, Chelsea, and Jose. 5. We haven't lost a single competition, and now the other 2 tribes will be pitted against one another. Whoever votes in the minority will be forced to come to Jess and I, so in essence, we hold every ounce of power. Best case scenario: We get swapped into a tribe with current Hosororo and old fans, giving me the ability to pick and choose who stays and who goes. Worst case scenario: We get swapfucked and I need to make new relationships with alternative favorites. I would also be more than fine staying in the same tribe, considering there is a clear gap between our tribe and the other 2.

Our tribe really thought Jenna was the swing vote. Bish it was actually me. Im pan with a plan and im here to make messy as moves. Jones aka DAD. ❤️ I think im going to flip and do Jenna. While my fans + jenna are doing Nick. Im really hoping there is a swap cuz if there isnt im screwed. But its a move and me and Jonesy are going to be the villians of the season. But at the end of the day. A favorite is still going home.

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Me and Jones went on call for an hour and talked about the vote. We're sticking with voting Jenna out. Jonesy worked her magic on Maynor and is getting him to flip. Also Mitchell is a bad bean akdjdjs. Anyways ... Me and My wig have decided to vote ... for Jenna Nick wanted me to play the idol on him since he's getting votes this round and Maynor may not flio but HNNNNN i dont want that target on me just as of now. It'd be too risky and since he made an idol hunt group without me on our OG tribe... I considered letting him will me the idol and then him getting voted out ajsjsksks.

Well, there's no way of getting this to work unless Jones works her magic. I'm simply trying to get people to realize that I'm social and understanding of how this game gets played. Hopefully I can get people to want to keep me and play with me come a tribe swap or a merge.

It’s been a weird round. I fought my ass off in the challenge but to no avail. This joint tribal has been a battle. I think Maynor is flipping to vote out Jenna. If I’m wrong it’s me with an idol in my pocket. But my allies Tim and Jonesy both feel confident in Maynor and you can’t win Survivor alone so I’m going to stick with my homies and not play my idol. Gulp. Wish me luck:

Curse you hosts! Throwing us into a blender to vote someone out! RTQ-read the question, or so my professor always said. What do I do not not read the whole thing and forget to put a Guyana sign or even say it In my videos. Which leaves me scrabbling to do it all again. Dog food and fucking hot sauce bullshit is not something you want to do twice in one night, let alone in one week. Lesson for the day? READ THR MOTHER FUCKING QUESTION FOLKS!

YALL I am so sorry about not making confessionals. It's just I always have a fear that I am wasting my time and that the confessionals won't even got posted...and like nothing interesting has happened on my tribe. Here are some fun facts tho: after tonight me, Alyssa, José, and Chelsea are the only ones that have not gone to tribal. YEEHAW SKEET SKEET YALL. I am living in paradise, I have connected w Devon and Jess pretty well. Devon I know I can trust 100%, I am sure that Jess and Alyssa are pretty close but I still trust them too. I want to be reunited with JONESSSS I miss her. CRYING IN THE CLUB RN. We had a mini tribe call just to like chit chat and that was fun. Jess also destroyed the comp and if José would not have been on our tribe I would have asked to sit out bc like I was still recovering from editing the music video. UMM what else. Oh we have that lit joint tribal that we do not have to go to #BLESS and Idk yall I am just waiting to go to tribal so I can play the game, it's hard coming up with stuff to do and have fun when u winnn. I have just been collecting tea about the fans sooo

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO WORK OUT OH MY GOD BLESS MAYNOR HOLY FUCK I LOVE THAT MAN SO MUCH that's all for now xoxo, i'll do a more detailed video confessional later

Not even going to lie.. I'm shitting bricks that José is going to fuck up this challenge for us. If he does RIP me in this game. I think I'm the one on the outs out of the 5 of us. Devon is connected with people like Chelsea who won't even give me the time of day.. I'm fucked. SO FUCKED.

Lets start off with Jenna. I am very sorry. Im sorry that i voted for you. Im a sorry that i made the move? No. I felt you were too close to Dani and Sarah and Aidan and Mitchell. And you had lots of power that tribal. I guess you can say you were sarah and i was kass in this vote. And chaos struck. No one knew my connection to my dad aka Jones and Tim. They are ❤️. I would protect them and i did. Am i ready for the fall out idk. Hopefully no one takes the temptation on our tribe cuz my ass will go right behind Jenna. If I cant do damage control.

Welcome to my: "I Think I may Just be PMSING" rant for this round. BUT I JUST NEED A FUCKING PERSON IN THIS GAME. Someone who I know has my back at least 75%. I'm not asking for a miracle here.. I know someone having your back 100% isn't realistic at all. However, I just need someone who I know going forward will pick me over their old friends or tribe-mates if when we swap or if I make it to merge. Where is this all coming from? I have no idea. I just have a fucking weird feeling. I felt good with my tribe but for some reason something just feels OFF to me. This is probably my paranoia kicking in or my hormones? Only time will fucking tell.... If you'd ask me currently who I considered my person I would say it's Devon by fucking default. WHICH IS REALLY SAD CONSIDERING HOW WE WERE PRE-SWAP. We swapped together, he has ACTUALLY given me information. BUT..... I know homeboy is looking out for himself first and will sell me out when time comes. SO that's not good for me in the future... I know he has a tendency to tell people the same things too so.. that’s a mood. I would have said Alyssa is my person HOWEVER, I don't see a scenario where she chooses me over Chelsea or Sammy on this tribe right now. In the future? Possibly, I won't rule that out at all. But for the remainder of however long we have on this tribe... I don't feel good at all. She gives me almost no information and that could be a result of me not giving her information but I’ve honestly told her everything I know. Mitchell possibly being on the bottom, what went into the Lucy/Bee vote. That’s all I got. I physically can not give her anything else. SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING I KNOW. Maybe she doesn’t know anything? I have no fucking idea. I want to work with her SO BAD. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to work with SOMEONE MORE IN A GAME. BUT I fucking can’t shake the feeling of her stabbing me in the back if it came down to me or Devon. I'm trying not to let my paranoia show and I know I've let it slip a couple of times in conversations with Alssya/ Sammy. They ignored me for a good 20 minutes when I said it so it was obvious they were on a call or communicating someway. OR MAYBE IT’S MY PMS OR PARANOIA?!!!! I’m just sure I’ve STRESSED THIS FACT ENOUGH BUTTTTT: I AM FUCKING NERVOUS. I’m almost as nervous as a drug addict taking a fucking piss test right now. If José pulls some shit in this challenge I’m going if we LOSE MY FUCKING COOL LIKE NO TOMORROW. The way I see the connections on this tribe right now is simple: Devon has connections with Sammy/ Chelsea. Side note: Chelsea acts like I’m the plague in her pm’s. She ignores me harder than I ignore all of my life responsibilities and I ignore them pretty fucking hard. I believe I’m closer to Alyssa than Devon is but will she have the votes if it came down to it? NO. Sammy is close to everyone. He’s my pick to win right now. He has everything a future winner has.

Color me SHOOK. Im very surprised that they are handling the Jenna very calm and understanding. I might not have been in as much danger as i thought. I told them the truth about why I did the vote and all the reasons. The paranoia. My anxiety that was spiraling out of control. I didnt tell them tho of my connection to Jonesy 🦑❤️ But i want to thank Jones for calming me down from my anxiety before the vote. And to Sarah who helped me after tribal cuz my anxiety kicked up again after i couldnt talk to jones and people were confused on what happened and were asking around. I am much better today tho. A little calmer than last night.

I am really bad at this, I so imma spill some tea, which I don't have much of. Me and Mitchell agreed to work together until merge then we would kill each other whenever it best suited us. Which was a good think to do because apparently I'm a scary comp beast :D If that is all I am remembered for at the end of this game I'll be happy <3 More to come but I am at work soooooo yeah, more to come ~finger guns~

Also I have NO idea why everyone trusts Mitchell so much!! He’s a snake and if he doesn’t go home this week, the rest of my tribe are idiots

Well...that was quick. Aidan taking the advantage is really interesting, and also very telling: 1. Do the fans have a clear majority? Sarah and Dani didn't trust Mitchell, and this would be the perfect time to knock him out. 2. Is Aidan ACTUALLY playing the game? He seems to have a grip on what will happen tonight, which is fearsome, considering he didn't do jackshit on the original fans tribe. 3. What is this twist for later tonight? I predict the advantage has to do with either picking the swapped tribes or sending someone to exile at the F15, making it 7 vs 7 with 1 at exile.

It looks like they may have thrown the challenge? I might be screwed? Like not in the good way. 😏 They said Mitchell’s name and i want to believe them but how are you going to be like i dont want to go to tribal and hope someone else takes it to taking the temptation. Its very clear of their intention. I just hope they are telling me the real target. Cuz if not im dead. And ill be gone. If its me, its been great. Its been fun. I wish i could have lasted longer. But oh well. Sarah i hope you make it far. Jonesy ❤️ Kill it and take the title.

oh my godddd, so sorry I forgot to do a confessional. I completely forget to do them when my tribe doesn't have to go to tribal. ;) I genuinely love my tribe so much and have actively talked to everyone ever since the switch. Now there's talk about swaps that may happen, but I don't want that to happen. :( The only good thing that could come out of a swap is that I would have an easier time choosing someone to vote out if need be, because by the looks of it, my current tribe is the most active and serious about making it to the top. I really don't want any switches to happen unless it's merge! Also, I don't think my tribe is ever going to talk in the temptation chat because we're all so on the same page. Ugh, I love them.

I think Sarah is going home because Mitchell Aidan and I made an alliance. She threw both Mitchell and my name so.

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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 4 years

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Crash and Burn (3/4)

Bo Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Shit.

You look to see Bo dressed down in a shirt and jeans, his hair untamed with his face scrunched into a dangerous scowl. His broad chest heaved and his white-knuckled fists clenched at his sides as he stalked through the doorway. Suddenly, he looked up and your eyes met his icy blue irises, pinning you where you stood. You swore you saw just a hint of fear in his beautiful eyes before a familiar fiery rage replaced it upon spotting you. You stepped back down, taking in his full expression. ‘Livid’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doin’ out here? Do you know what fuckin’ time it is?” Bo hollered as he stood above you glowering with his hands planted at his hips, an explosion barely contained. You flinched at his unforgiving tone. You were sure his shouting could be heard from Lester’s cabin just outside town “You better start explainin’ yourself, missy. I wake up to find you missing without a goddamn trace. No note! Nothin’! Not one damn word on where you’d be! Just where the hell were you plannin’ on runnin’ to?” You expected that Bo might throw a fit, but he was reacting much worse than you anticipated. He was practically trembling with rage and his posture was almost animalistic.

“Bo, I wasn’t-”

“Christ, Y/N!” Bo cursed as he slammed his hand against outside of the house. The sound startled you, even if you knew he would never, ever hit you “Where the hell did you go? Tell me right fuckin’ now!”

“Would you let me-” you were cut off as Bo kicked some old boxes and bottles out from in front of him with another growl of growing frustration. Broken glass crunched under his boots. With the way he started clawing at his hair and swinging out at everything in his way, you were beginning to worry he was going to hurt himself. “Bo you need to calm-”

“Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to calm down! I’ll calm down when I’m good and ready. So, you best get back upstairs in the meantime!” He ordered, his shoulders heaving up and down from the short, infuriated breaths he took.

“I can-”

“Save it! Get your ass back in the house.” Bo hissed, turning his body to let you through, glaring you down. He wasn’t going to tell you again. You took a deep breath, as you silently debated whether to heed him or challenge him by staying put. Looking at his face and considering the flash of worry you’d seen in his eyes just moments ago, you let it go and moved to go back inside.

“Go find Vincent, Jonesy.” You ordered. Jonesy gave a short whine, but did as she was told. You saw her trot off just before Bo grabbed your wrist and yanked you back up the porch and into the house.

His grip wasn’t tight enough to hurt you, but you certainly weren’t going to escape the oncoming argument. You couldn’t make out the words he was grumbling under his breath, but you could bet about eighty-five percent was expletives. He led you both up the stairs and back to your bedroom, pulling you close behind.

When you got to the door, he moved you to walk in first, slamming the door after him. You made a beeline to sit on the edge of the bed while Bo continued to pace and rant under his breath. He had been upset with you before, but never like this. There was something deeper to his anger this time and he was going to give you a hell of time figuring it out.

You’d learned that when he got mad, it always came from his protective instinct. The trick was to keep an even temper and refuse to let him intimidate you or badger you into a screaming match; which was always easier said than done. You had gotten better at communicating with him when he got like this, but it wasn’t easy to keep your cool when he was yelling and cursing at you eight ways to Sunday. You took a breath, preparing yourself for battle,

“Bo, I can explain.”

“I should fuckin’ hope so.” Bo spat back, not sparing so much as a glance at you “Tell me, where were you plannin’ on escapin’ to? How far were you plannin’ on goin’ ‘fore I stopped you?”

“I was just going for a walk. I was on my way home when you found me.” You said coolly. He was really going to make this difficult for you.

“And what gave you the bright idea to walk around alone at three in the fuckin morning? Stupidest fuckin’ idea I ever heard.” Bo asked flicking his gaze to you, before continuing to pace about the room with a scowl. He circled the room like caged animal, practically frothing at the mouth.

“I wasn’t alone-”

“Right. You had the damn dog with you, that makes it better.” He added sarcastically. Stubborn, grouchy Bo was back in full force. It was hard to believe he was the same person who was so gentle just hours ago. You knew that both sides were a unique part of him and you appreciated both all the same, but damn if didn’t make him difficult to keep up with sometimes.

“Jonesy wanted a walk and I needed to clear my head-”

“Clear your head? Seems to me it was crystal clear since there wasn’t a damn thing runnin’ through it when you took off in the middle of the night.”

“I needed a-”

“You’re practically beggin’ for trouble! Did you even stop to think if anyone was still runnin’ around out there? No! You weren’t! You weren’t thinkin’ of a goddamn thing at all! It’s like you’re fuckin’ with me on purpose, Y/N!”

“You interrupt me one more goddamn time and I’m sleeping on Lester’s couch.” You snapped as you stood from your seat on the bed. You may have been shaken by recent events, but you were by no means fragile and he’d do well to remember that. You’d never been one to take his anger fueled accusations lying down before so you didn’t plan on starting now.

“The hell you are.” Bo declared finally planting himself in front of you, fixing his sight on your face. He was still tense and rigid while you did your best to remain collected.

“Then how about you let me explain.” You said in as calm a tone as you could muster as you placed your hands on your hips, looking him dead in the eyes. You wanted to be perfectly clear you didn’t intend on backing down. You could see Bo weighing his options and he thankfully settled on crossing his arms with a grimace: a sign for you to continue “Thank you. Now to answer all your questions, I got out of bed because I was having a real hard time sleeping. I couldn’t calm down and you were asleep, so I slipped out for something to drink. Jonesy found me in the kitchen and practically begged me to walk with her. I was still feeling a bit uneasy from…well everything that happened and so I thought walking with Jonesy would help calm me down. We only walked to the edge of town, before turning around, Bo. I swear, I was being careful. I’m truly and genuinely sorry for upsetting you, but I think you’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? You were gone, Y/N. What the hell was I supposed to think? It’s dangerous out there and you were bein’ reckless.” Bo snapped defensively “Anyone coulda been lurking around. You should know better than to just leave like that.”

“Bo, you and I walk around Ambrose late at night all the time. You know as well as I do that hardly anyone ever pulls in at this time of night, especially this time of year.” You reasoned.

“We were together all those other times, Y/N.” Bo ran a rough hand through his wild hair, pulling it a bit in his frustration and began pacing once more.

“You’ve seen me do things that are arguably more reckless than a night stroll with a dog and I’ve never seen you this mad.”

“You left in the middle of the night and I couldn’t find you! I think I’ve got a fuckin’ right to be upset.”

“You’re allowed to be upset, but this is more than that, Bo!” You argued “So, tell me are you really this angry because I took a walk when you weren’t expecting it or are you actually angry because you were scared and you didn’t know how to handle it?” A risky thing to say, but you were in too deep now.

“Watch your mouth, Y/N.” Bo hissed as he shot a glare in your direction. He knew deep down what you just said was the absolute truth, but he hated that you knew exactly what was eating at him before could even make sense of it himself.

“Tell me what’s really wrong.” You demanded heatedly. Bo ripped his hands through his hair and whipped himself to face you, fire barely giving way to heartbreak

“You were gone!” he practically roared, his voice cracking.

“And I came back.” You responded sternly, neither pausing nor raising your voice, but standing firm “I came back and I’m right here.”

This caused Bo’s grimace to finally crumble as he tore his eyes from you to glare at the wall. All the anger left in Bo’s expression started to give way to the distress lying just beneath the surface. Your brow dropped the lines of frustration as you continued to look up at him with understanding. He stood still as stone and it was clear he didn’t know how to continue. You made it easier on him as you slowly stepped toward him and dragged him down to your level by his shirt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and wove your fingers through his curls. You felt him relax in your embrace as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You both stood like that for a moment, getting lost in each other’s scent, cherishing the moment of peace.

“I’m very sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I promise I was always going to come right back.”

“I wasn’t scared.” Bo stubbornly insisted with a scoff to really drive home his point. You weren’t sold, but you let it go without a fight. You knew you’d be hard pressed to get him to admit he got scared, at least in so many words. You turned your face to the side and placed a feather light kiss on the bruising just below his eye.

“It would have been okay if you were, though. You know that, right?” you added as you pulled back from your embrace to look up at him “In fact, I’d have been flattered. Big Bad Beauregard worried about me? What a concept.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Bo grumbled, though he couldn’t hide the chuckle that escaped the smallest of smiles that pulled at his cheeks. You beamed up at him as though he’d paid you the highest of compliments. Bo leaned down a pressed a soft peck to your nose. You let out a small, sweet laugh at the tickle from his kiss sent a flash of heat straight to your cheeks. You felt him smile against your face before he used a firm hand to tilt your chin up to kiss him properly. Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the warm sensation that never failed to make you feel safe and protected. His lips briefly followed yours when you pulled away for air. With a smile, you reached down to unhook his arm from your waist to lead him back to bed. He let you crawl in first and as you made yourself comfortable, he got in next to you. You faced one another side-by-side. Bo used a hand to brush your hair from your eyes and placed it back on your cheek, completely engulfing it. Both of you used the short break in the conversation to rest in comfortable silence before either of you spoke once more.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #House of Wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #My writing #tw: cursing #crash and burn #female reader

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