#like I have a list of things I need to do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petermorwood · 5 hours ago

Text

As someone who's also done some writing, this is all Extremely Sound Advice. :->

Here are a couple of point enhancements, and a rant about how a famous production torpedoed itself - IMO, anyway - by getting fixated on one of them

*****

(2) Head-hopping / POV change - think screen format and a change of camera angle. A "dinkus" (one or more asterisks, bullets or other symbol) between paragraphs is enough to indicate this, and you're good to go.

I do something similar in my own posts, including this one, though properly speaking the asterisks would be centred. I've done that with the next set, though since I've done the centring by inserting spaces, they may be well off-centre in other themes:

*****

(3) and (4) Treat info- and expo-dumps like pungent seasoning. Your recipe (story) needs them, but Not All In A Lump.

A good way to do this (the equivalent to "stir in gradually") is to combine them with other action - eating a meal, a walk-and-talk, watching some non-essential business like someone grooming a horse, washing a car, mowing a lawn etc., etc.

Intersperse the necessary dialogue of the info-expo with descriptions of and comments on the other business. If that business can be made relevant to the info-expo (comparisons, side-comments etc.) so much the better, but the point is to break up what can too easily be what TVTropes calls A Wall Of Text.

Thriller-writer Philip Kerr's later books are notorious for this: there are numerous instances where a character starts to talk ("Open Quotes") at the top of one page and - without interruption and sometimes even without paragraphs - doesn't finish ("Close Quotes") until halfway down the next.

Worse, the character is often reciting a chunk of background information from Kerr's research files which should have stayed there, or at the very least been pared down to its bare essentials as something a human being might say during a conversation with another human being.

Which Does Not Happen. :-P

*****

(8) about epithets, tackles something well-enough known that it has a TV Trope, "Burly Detective Syndrome". This has a cousin, "Said-Bookism", and no matter what you might have heard or indeed seen posted along with lists of sometimes-ridiculous alternatives on Tumblr, "said" is not dead.

It's alive, it's well and it's doing its job, which is to be the unobtrusive hook from which dialogue is hung. As I've said more than once, if a hook attracts more attention than the thing it's holding up, something's gone wrong.

*****

(10) If there's a scene that's likely to be fun to write, and another that's likely to be a slog, then if it works for your writing habits try to swap to and fro between the writing of them, with fun as a reward for slog.

If chop-and-change writing like this throws you off, then write the slog first and the fun after since once again, that's the reward, something to look forward to. Doing it the other way means you're looking at the slog to come, and that's not my idea of a reward.

Also, it can happen (personal experience) that after the refreshment of the fun, you'll come back to the first-draft slog bit and revise it into something better.

*****

I'd suggest (6) and (7) about subverting expectations - whether characters' or readers', and the one will become the other as reading happens - are something that need approached with care, and should always have a solid reason beyond (box tick) Not What They Expect.

Showing an unsubverted episode or incident - for instance the character's going-out preparations, or their commuting-home routine - is necessary, often more than once *, to establish Normality, so the character and reader are aware that This Time Is Different.

(* I've seen this done by cut-and-paste repeating the same description from one chapter into the next. It was imaginative and effective there, but could easily have tripped up on its own cleverness by seeming UNimaginative. YMMV.)

Why is the character including a concealed weapon in their party dress-up? Why is the character concerned they might be tailed during that commute? A comparison between ordinary and extraordinary is needed to show this doesn't happen every single time.

It's also a good way of racking up page-turning tension before invoking (5) that cliff-hanger chapter ending... :->

*****

And now the rant... :-p

Subverting expectations as a (box tick) action because it was So Effective That One Time is what transformed the final seasons of a once-popular fantasy adaptation into such a disappointment.

"Game of Thrones" is an excellent example of subverted expectations, such as the Red Wedding where - despite the way heroes are expected to escape at the last minute - a crapsack world like Westeros means bad things play all the way through to their bad conclusion.

*****

It's also an excellent example of how bad writing and a (box tick) attitude can lead to subversions that should have been left alone.

One instance is the way Jaime Lannister's redemption was abandoned "to subvert expectations" (box tick) complete with redemption-dismissive dialogue that was a slap in the face to several seasons of character development.

The lack of any hint or implication that such a thing was even possible suggests - to this viewer anyway - that it was no more than a (box tick) without additional thought as to whether it was logical in-story, as long as it generated yet another "Oh No, we didn't see that coming!" reaction from the audience.

(Of course nobody saw it coming, since neither plot requirement nor character development had any reason for it to happen.)

Sometimes a story should play out logically as a story because It's A Story, Not A Documentary. Terry Pratchett knew this and called it Narrativium, the element which drives stories. TV Tropes calls it The Theory of Narrative Causality.

Whatever the name, and however storytellers may tinker and tweak with it, they ignore its basic rules at their peril.

*****

Another example is Cersei's death.

When a writer as amiable as C.S. Lewis said:

"Let there be wicked kings and beheadings, battles and dungeons, giants and dragons, and let villains be soundly killed at the end..."

...just dropping a building on her without involving any of the many other High-Profile Characters she'd hurt throughout the series was ridiculous, especially with one of those High-Profile Characters already in the vicinity.

It may well have subverted expectations, but it was a lousy resolution.

It was also bad storytelling which abandoned at least one long-anticipated set-up (all too common in later GoT), and still vexes me since in a storyline filled with subversions for the sake of shock value, NOT subverting audience expectations but instead rewarding them with what they want (what they really, really want) becomes a subversion in itself.

*****

It's not hard to imagine more original and entertaining ways of bringing Cersei's pigeons home to roost, the most obvious being a fatal encounter with Arya-reFaced-as-Jaime.

This IMO would have been a much more satisfying use of her well-established Faceless Man sneakmurder skills than that no-setup leap from nowhere onto the Ice King, another Bad Guy built up to deserve a more spectacular termination than his you're-done-now-kthxbye demise.

Certainly after eight seasons of scheming, murder, cruelty - and infuriating smugness, oh yes, that too - having Cersei "soundly killed" should have involved something, anything, more conclusive, up-front and personal than a load of bricks landing on her head.

Subvert, yes. But not just for the sake of doing it.

*****

And as @writeblrfantasy concluded, no matter what way you're doing it, have fun in the doing of it...

my 10 holy grail pieces of writing advice for beginners

from an indie author who's published 4 books and written 20+, as well as 400k in fanfiction (who is also a professional beta reader who encounters the same issues in my clients' books over and over)

show don't tell is every bit as important as they say it is, no matter how sick you are of hearing about it. "the floor shifted beneath her feet" hits harder than "she felt sick with shock."

no head hopping. if you want to change pov mid scene, put a scene break. you can change it multiple times in the same scene! just put a break so your readers know you've changed pov.

if you have to infodump, do it through dialogue instead of exposition. your reader will feel like they're learning alongside the character, and it will flow naturally into your story.

never open your book with an exposition dump. instead, your opening scene should drop into the heart of the action with little to no context. raise questions to the reader and sprinkle in the answers bit by bit. let your reader discover the context slowly instead of holding their hand from the start. trust your reader; donn't overexplain the details. this is how you create a perfect hook.

every chapter should end on a cliffhanger. doesn't have to be major, can be as simple as ending a chapter mid conversation and picking it up immediately on the next one. tease your reader and make them need to turn the page.

every scene should subvert the character's expectations, as big as a plot twist or as small as a conversation having a surprising outcome. scenes that meet the character's expectations, such as a boring supply run, should be summarized.

arrive late and leave early to every scene. if you're character's at a party, open with them mid conversation instead of describing how they got dressed, left their house, arrived at the party, (because those things don't subvert their expectations). and when you're done with the reason for the scene is there, i.e. an important conversation, end it. once you've shown what you needed to show, get out, instead of describing your character commuting home (because it doesn't subvert expectations!)

epithets are the devil. "the blond man smiled--" you've lost me. use their name. use it often. don't be afraid of it. the reader won't get tired of it. it will serve you far better than epithets, especially if you have two people of the same pronouns interacting.

your character should always be working towards a goal, internal or external (i.e learning to love themself/killing the villain.) try to establish that goal as soon as possible in the reader's mind. the goal can change, the goal can evolve. as long as the reader knows the character isn't floating aimlessly through the world around them with no agency and no desire. that gets boring fast.

plan scenes that you know you'll have fun writing, instead of scenes that might seem cool in your head but you know you'll loathe every second of. besides the fact that your top priority in writing should be writing for only yourself and having fun, if you're just dragging through a scene you really hate, the scene will suffer for it, and readers can tell. the scenes i get the most praise on are always the scenes i had the most fun writing. an ideal outline shouldn't have parts that make you groan to look at. you'll thank yourself later.

happy writing :)

#Writer Advice #subverting expectations #Game of Thrones #storytelling #narrativium #GNU Terry Pratchett #fun with words #fun with language

6K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

Text

Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon.

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #au #doing time #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu

212 notes · View notes

manicandobsessive · 20 hours ago

Text

You’re my lady, I’m your fool | L.H.

Summary: Logan missed his girl.

Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, the man is lovesick, cursing, pet names, SUGGESTIVE, mdni please, reader is shorter than logan, based on a wham song, not really proofread im lazy, kind of rushed ending but its still cute

WC: 1.5k+

I had a vision after listening to this song and I wrote this in approximately 1 hour. I’m a wham girlie.

Home. You. Dinner.

That was the mantra Logan chose to repeat in order to remain sane on his drive home. Pedal to the medal, at least 30 over the speed limit at all times. The truck rumbled and groaned with the weight of years of memories and use under him, but he continued his trek home regardless.

Gonna have to change the fuckin’ oil soon, too. He thought. The mere inconvenience adding to his already ever-present irritation.

Every douchebag in Canada had decided today was the day to test his patience. From his dumbfuck coworkers at the lumber yard to the asshole currently riding his tail. He’d had enough. He wanted to be home with you. His girl. His sweetheart, angel, darling, the list goes on. The thought of you was the one string pulling him back to reality. The tether to his life he cherished with every bone in his aching body. He truly didn’t know where he would be if he didn’t have you.

Probably jail.

But you taught him the beauty of kindness. Yours being a beacon of hope for him when he accidentally spilled beer on you at a dingy bar. He’d been staring at you anyways, but humiliating himself wasn’t on the agenda for the night. Yet you didn’t scoff at him, didn’t look at him sideways, not even a curse under your breath. You didn’t bat a fucking eyelash and without skipping a beat, you asked if he was okay. The first example of many showing your unwavering selflessness. It was admirable, you were the better half of the pair of you- in his opinion. He often found himself frustrated with your lack of regard towards yourself, brushing it off like nothing. He’d tried time and time again to tell you to take care of yourself, not to worry about him. And you always, always told him the same fucking thing:

“Can’t control it, Lo. Just care about you.”

Hugging him tightly around the waist, resting your chin on his pecs and looking up at him with that sweet, sweet smile. Your bright eyes and soft face making him huff as he instinctively moved his own arms to hold you closer to him. He never could find himself angry with you.

He reminisced on those memories often. On top of plenty of other moments with you that brought a pleasant smile to his face.

He had no idea that accident at the bar almost 3 years ago would bring him to this point, but fuck if he isn’t overjoyed that it did.

Love was never on Logan’s radar. Written off as another extra thing he didn’t need to bother with. He was certain that life would never be for someone like him- that he’d never find someone to accept him for what he is. For who he is. And you did without a second thought. You’d blown life right back into him, showing him what real happiness is. He swears that when he met you the sun shone brighter each day. Something you would always roll your eyes at, calling him cheesy. But he wholeheartedly believed it- which is saying a lot coming from a man who no longer believes in much else.

The soft glow of your shared cabin came into view, practically calling to him by name. The visual had already calmed his racing heart, knowing you were waiting for him. Probably in one of his flannels and old socks. Your hair flowing freely and your entire demeanor relaxed. It was his favorite look on you, other than when you were begging for him, caged between his thick arms. An endeavor for later, to say the least.

He slammed the truck door shut, moving with a newfound purpose to the front door. He kicked off his boots, leaving them on the front porch. If you took care of the house, the least he could do was be mindful of it.

And laundry, he knew you fucking hated laundry.

The door swung open. Logan made a silent note in his head to oil the hinges of that thing, the creaking got on his nerves.

He’d heard faint music from outside, the notes only getting louder the closer he got to where he needed to be- near you. He knew you were cooking, he could smell the various seasonings and vegetables. But most of all the music. You always had something playing, but it was only ever this loud and upbeat when you were in the kitchen. He’d found you dancing and singing enough times to know what the deal was.

And tonight was no different.

He knew you loved this song, something your dad had you listen to as a kid. A song you grew up on and still loved to present day. He was never a big fan of 80s pop, but whatever you enjoyed he was right there with you. Bopping his head along or tapping his foot lightly, it always made you giggle.

He leant against the wall, watching as you moved with ease throughout the kitchen. How you weren’t an extraterrestrial being was beyond him. He swore you had a halo sometimes.

The grace of your smile, the lightness in your steps, even your voice as you sung along to the music entranced him. Like a siren call. He made his way into the room, smiling when you weren’t even phased in the slightest at him catching you mid concert.

He was however surprised when you pulled him in by his arms, swinging them back and forth as you laughed. He was so caught up in your smile he didn’t even register you telling him to dance with you. Slowly but surely he gave in, a deep, warm chuckle erupting from his chest as you jumped and sang with the energy of a kid on Christmas morning. Your soft hands and sweet scent making him all the more taken with you, if that was even possible.

He spun you, lifting you off the ground in his arms as you let out a squeal.

“Logan!”

He put you down, not bothering to even try removing his arms from your waist as he looked down at you with the most lovesick expression on Earth. Scratch that, every universe. There wasn’t a single one where he hadn’t been head over heels in love with you.

“Hi baby.” He smirked when your face flushed as it always did when he called you that. He loved seeing it, it gave him butterflies. Even after all this time.

You slowly inched your arms around his neck, entangling your fingers with the hair on the base of his neck. He hummed and buried his face into your own, making you giggle. He pressed feather-light kisses on your neck and jaw before pulling back to look down at you once again.

You sung along to the rest of the song, Logan even joining in for one part:

“You’re my lady, I’m your fool.”

He sang, making you smile as you pecked his lips and he drew you in for a much deeper kiss.

“How was work?” You asked as he rested his forehead against yours. He groaned, not bothering to ruin the moment with the laundry list of complaints he’d had about people.

“Hell.” He simply replied, “Missed ya too much.” He mumbled against your lips, kissing you yet again.

You hummed in contentment against his mouth, pulling him impossibly closer. He was so intoxicating you nearly fell to the floor every time he kissed you. Always making you forget your name with the way his lips and tongue moved against your own.

He slowly walked you backwards, not breaking the kiss as he led you to your bedroom. He’d needed to show you how much he missed you since he left this morning. He was a lovesick fuck, and was damn proud of it.

You obliged without hesitation, allowing him to take control and softly rest you on your back on the bed. He kissed your eyelids, cheeks, nose, forehead. Anywhere that was accessible to him, he worshipped it- worshipped you. Your breath hitched, arching into him. You’d nearly forgotten you were in the middle of cooking when he came home. The realization hitting you in the face as you squirmed.

“Lo, dinner.” You huffed, trying- and failing- to push him away so you could finish cooking. Of course, you couldn’t fight off a man with a metal skeleton, let alone want to. You needed him, desperately. But you also wanted to make sure the house didn’t go up in flames.

“Logan.” You groaned, he growled against your skin. Pinning you down effectively as he continued his trail of kisses down your body.

“Logan Howlett.” You said with all the authority you could muster up in the moment. He stopped, lifting his head from your stomach and looking at you with a raised brow and that stupidly handsome smirk.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I gotta finish dinner.” You tried to look as stern as you could, but the way his rough hands were gently stroking your thighs made it impossible. Not to mention the look on his face. You knew him well enough to recognize it. Whatever he was about to say would solidify the one thing you knew: you weren’t leaving this bed anytime soon.

“I’ll cook. Jus’ lemme have this, sweetheart. I missed ya.”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett fluff #logan x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #james logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlet x reader #origins logan my love #x men origins wolverine #origins logan howlett #manicwrites🙀#logan howlett fic #x men movies

221 notes · View notes

astrolook · 2 days ago

Text

Empty Houses in Your Birth Chart: Cosmic Ghost Town or Chill Zone?

So, you’ve been staring at your birth chart and wondering why you have empty houses. Maybe you have no planets in your 7th house (“Am I doomed to die alone?”), or your 2nd house (“Does this mean I’ll be broke forever?”). Relax. Breathe. The universe didn’t just forget to assign you a personality.

Empty houses don’t mean you lack something; they mean you don’t have a planet permanently renting space there. It’s like a fully furnished Airbnb—functional, livable, just not your primary residence. You still experience these areas of life, just without a permanent cosmic tenant making a mess of things.

Empty 1st House - House of Self, Identity, and ‘Main Character Energy’

"Who am I?"

You don’t need planets in your 1st house to have a personality, I promise. If it’s empty, your Rising Sign ruler/lord is the real MVP here—it’s the planet secretly controlling your life like an undercover boss.

It doesn't mean you’re invisible, boring, or lacking an identity. (Come on, even NPCs have a backstory.)

Unlike people with planets here, you’re not out here having existential crises every five minutes.

Empty 2nd House - House of Money, Self-Worth & That Bag 💰

"Will I ever be rich?"

You’re not destined to survive on instant noodles forever. Your financial success comes from the sign ruling this house—not a chaotic planet constantly meddling with your money habits.

Here, money isn’t the biggest stressor in your life (lucky you). You might not define yourself by wealth, but you can still make serious cash.

Empty 3rd House - House of Communication, Siblings & ‘Did You Read the Fine Print?’

"Why do people talk so much?"

No planets here? You don’t have constant mental chatter or an obsession with posting hot takes on Twitter (unlike certain air sign placements). You process information at your own pace, and your Mercury placement tells us how you communicate.

Here it simply mean that you can be a great speaker or writer—just without the need to debate everything to death.

Empty 4th House - House of Family & Emotional Foundations

"Am I emotionally stable or just unbothered?"

If your 4th house is empty, family drama isn’t your core personality trait (looking at you, Cancer moons). Your upbringing shaped you, but your emotions aren’t constantly under siege.

It means you don’t live in your past. Your sense of home and emotional security comes from the ruling sign, not a chaotic planet making things messy.

Empty 5th House - House of Fun, Romance & ‘Oops, I Did It Again’

"Am I doomed to be boring?"

Empty 5th house? You still have fun, fall in love, and make questionable decisions—it’s just not your full-time job. Your creative hobbies, love life, and risk-taking tendencies come from the house ruler, not a planet throwing drama parties.

It means you’re not obsessively seeking attention. You can still be artistic, romantic, and entertaining—you just do it without the theatrics.

Empty 6th House - House of Work, Health & That Annoying Daily Routine

"Do I even have a work ethic?"

No planets in the 6th house? Congrats, you’re not micromanaging your own existence. You handle responsibilities when necessary, but you’re not out here color-coding to-do lists at 3 AM.

It means you’re chill about work and health. You get things done without needing a constant cosmic drill sergeant yelling at you.

Empty 7th House - House of Relationships & ‘Are We Dating or Just Vibing?’

"Am I cursed in love?"

Nope, an empty 7th house doesn’t mean you’re single forever. It just means you’re not obsessed with relationships—your partnerships unfold naturally instead of being your life’s central drama.

It means you don’t overcomplicate love. You attract relationships when the time is right—without planets causing unnecessary chaos.

Empty 8th House -House of Transformation, Sex & ‘What Happens After We Die?’

"Am I missing the ‘mystical and sexy’ gene?"

The 8th house rules deep transformation, shared finances, intimacy, and, well…death. If you have an empty 8th house, does this mean you’re boring and no sexual life? (Spoiler: No.)

It means you’re not haunted by existential crises 24/7 (lucky you). You go through major transformations, but you’re not obsessing over the meaning of life while waiting for your Starbucks order.

You might have a healthy approach to power and intimacy—unlike people with a crowded 8th house, who experience life like a dramatic phoenix constantly combusting.

Empty 9th House -House of Travel, Higher Learning & ‘I’m Moving to Bali’

"Am I allergic to wisdom and adventure?"

This is the house of philosophy, wanderlust, and that one friend who quit their job to find themselves in another country. But if your 9th house is empty, are you doomed to stay in one place forever?

It means you don’t need a crisis to push you into adventure. You explore life when you want, not because a planet is forcing you into a life-changing backpacking trip.

Your beliefs and perspectives expand over time—you just don’t feel the need to become a monk overnight.

Empty 10th House - House of Career, Public Image & ‘Will I Ever Be Successful?’

"Am I a failure?"

An empty 10th house does not mean you’ll spend your life jobless, unknown, or forever stuck in an unpaid internship from hell. The 10th house rules career and legacy, but an empty one means…you don’t obsess over it 24/7.

You can be highly successful—you just don’t need planets constantly pushing you into an identity crisis about it. Your MC ruler tells the real story of your career path.

Some of the most successful people have an empty 10th house—because they’re too busy succeeding to stress over it.

Empty 11th House - House of Friendships, Social Circles & ‘Am I Cool?’

"Do I have no friends?"

An empty 11th house does not mean you’re a loner or the social equivalent of a tumbleweed. You have friends. You just don’t need a cosmic hype squad of planets managing your social life.

It means you don’t rely on social validation to exist. Your friendships are natural and not built on constant drama and chaos.

You attract the right people without forcing it. You don’t need to collect acquaintances like Pokémon cards—you value quality over quantity.

Empty 12th House - House of the Subconscious, Dreams & ‘Main Character in a Spiritual Awakening’

"Am I just…normal?"

If your 12th house is empty, does this mean you lack spiritual depth, psychic visions, and tragic poet energy? Nope. You’re just not drowning in existential dread 24/7, unlike those with a packed 12th house (send them love, they need it).

You’re not haunted by past-life trauma every time Mercury retrogrades. You connect with your spirituality in a way that’s natural and not overwhelming.

Your spiritual growth is steady and not tied to constant suffering. (Honestly, be grateful.)

🌟 Instead of asking ‘What am I lacking?’ ask ‘Where do I flow naturally?’ 🔍 Look at the ruling planet of each empty house—that’s your real guide. 🔥 Transits activate empty houses, so life will still spice things up when needed!

So, next time someone gasps at your empty 7th house (“Oh no, you’ll never find love!”), just laugh—because joke’s on them, you’re living a drama-free life.

Want to understand what your birth chart really says about you? DM me for a reading, and let’s decode your cosmic blueprint together! 🔮✨

#astro notes #birth chart #spiritual awakening #astro observations #astrology readings #astrology #spirituality #spiritual journey #spiritualgrowth #astro community #astro placements #astro posts

273 notes · View notes

invisiblue · 1 day ago

Text

Also felt like sharing an old list of vine that i have:

you want a treat? yas YAS

merry crisis merry crysler

1 thing worst than a rapist

mouthwash shots (luke vines)

rebecca is not what u thinking

drugs owl

run umbrella

my imortal black cat

red dress lana del rey chicken

is that a weed? Im calling the police 911

ipot microwave snoopy dog

2 bros chilling

im still a piece of garbage

the flock is in the air

pepe the frog - hello darkness my old friend

and they were roomates

Its a fucking bear (all around me are familiar...)

vaccum cleanner shes a maniac

thts free water hotel

road work a head yeah

AA AAA AAAA bateries

black panther blows paws psipsispsi

ttttttarget

hello hello hello teacher

what are those? CrocksD,

that was legitness

country boy i lov u :p

if you love me let me gooo grass

Jared 19 i dont know how 2 read

bring the beeties any thing for u beyonce

im michael with a b, where is the b?

3 dinos crawling in my skin

thx Obama

helium balloon car

helium balloon church

2 girls michael jackson walking

brandon whats num1? bitch I dont give a f

UKs look its the fucking rain

Goofy Goof wake me up

goat dont you yell at your mom

guardiam of the sand fuck off

look at this graph

fuck that shit im out

what the fuck photo/calculator in a show

im lesbian a thought u were american

This bitch is empty yeet

a piss of your water, its vodka, its vinegar

look at all of those chickens

cooking lady 2 shots of vodka

sounds trapped in your mind yoga

bible studies we're all children of jesus

lets go to the beach beach nicki minjaj

avocado guaca mole guaca guacamole

child throws doll law and order SVU

lipstick in my valentino white bag

*sneeze* nice ron

lebron james

oh drink this vodka dumbass skyy

false rat supermarket is it real

yaaa yaaahh boy basketball ball head

omg is that alowded? couple hugging

welcome to jesus line youre alive

whoever trow that paper your mom is a whore

BICTH

ADAM

we’re breaking free

little girl wii sports

birds running away from wave

jonny has 19 bootle of soup mind yo business

is that a chicken (little pig)

hurricane katrina more like hurricane tortilla

and omg colesterol

im librarian

cockroach you need jesus

i wash me in my clothes

2 free tacos

pasta in the pocket

anything better than pussy a rly good book

can i pls get a waffle

0,69 cents not enough for chicken nuggets

4 female ghostbuster feminists are over

kevin kevin watch the light dude

nacho credit card transaction complete

you mess with my truck

oriental lady with her cat

scrolling insta declaration of independence

make me yoyo man but the yoyo master

ask me what kind of tree we have

ωσω smoke

guy bottle flips glass of water

dont tell your mother DIE FOR EACH OTHER

piano SAIL

hum, shithead? Its Shafi

blink once if youre hitler omg

lollipop snake (take me away)

10M point for griffinpuff

who is that pokemon? its pikachu/ cleafary

COD: BOIII - Awekening

little dog with italian flag (italian music)

hahaha i do that

duck youre just like your father

why dont we just relax? turn on the radio

go back to sleep and starve

love yourself accept yourself

wtf kyle step the fuck up

cute carnivorous plant xtmas

little dog running sofa all around me...

jesus car take the wheel

watch your language jesus car

im 11 so shut the fuck up

round and round rihanna bathtub

how do you feel about the corner dog

its time to wake up noo penguin seadog

you have to say that youre fine

if your name is junior raise your hand

do inch worm like to party?

inch worm dancing fast

kidnaping in school its okay he woke up

little girl car its gonna eat you omg

boys gets his free taco who can say

frying pan naruto sound

2 girls dancing store alarm

i smell like beef

pumped kids vine

*mission impossible music* camera spoted

PATRICIA honey can u be quiet

jonh bbq and foot massage

my impression of britsh driver

am i a womf

hipism that was magestic

happy birthday raven i cant swin

4x4 = 16

jurassic park mom and baby screaming

sony logo

photosinthesis hacked

not being racist i love goat cheese

what a those? converse dino jurassic park

tampons? TAMPONS

oh for fuck sake oh for fuck sake

bitch call me ugly i sad bitch where? muslin

yas Yas YASSS dinos jurassic world

cat walking car horn ☆ive been feeling☆

how did u kill cap ameri? shield size of a plate

guy making phone sounds

rapper guy looking in the dictionary imposs

mission imposs little hamster

40% sale/sail music

ladie lipsinging car

u feel so nice dino toy petting real cat

little puppy runnig shoe store

guy scooter never gonna dance again

trump know a lot about truck binbinbinbin

yungman grave

Liam Neeson vine

iridocyclitis

topic out of question permission denied next

we are in this together political discurso

old lady what are they saying

shaking my head shaking my head

hey dont you want to be famous?

I should have left u... But you didnt

fuck off janet im not going to your bby shower

chillary clinton, im just chilling

any spirits here, this sounds like shakira?

10 people died in a fire last night news

verified in twitter but are u in the eyes of god

i want ro be president slavery legal again

cheerleader and mascor together

*shoot* thats why mom doesnt love u

cowgirl boot fucking bitch DISGUSTING

little kitty keyboard xxxxxxxxx

im from every continent in africa

car sound made by instrument

girl walking away kitchen dad upset

girlfriend take a real gun from game

move im gay

faces eating faces disagreeing

thats not correct according to encyclopedia...

zack stop za stop

freestyle dance teacher

rip u face off, what did he do? He f pushed me

on all levels expect physical im a wolf

we all die u either kill yourself or get killed

shaved my eyebrows i...d...k

my birthday gift on my birthday present

cheese of thruth immigrants cause cancer

guy driving dancing classic music girl filming

woman full cigarettes cherif

naruto run university

Soup for my family

#the way i can say all of these as it was 😭#road work ahead is too iconic #lets not forget about merry crisis merry chrysler

7K notes · View notes

littlestl4mb · 2 days ago

Note

running errands with nerdy boyfriend luigi???? 😭

YURRRRR

to be honest, i think it would be luigi’s favorite thing to do with you. i think he’d really like the simplicity and domesticity of it. he doesn’t care much for going on fancy dinner dates, or going on expensive couple vacations together. no, those superficial milestone-markers that other couples like to boast, they don't do much for him. never have. instead, he finds happiness on a simple saturday morning in spring, when the air is still a little brisk but it’s teasing the approaching summer’s warmth. and most importantly, he’s on his way to see you.

he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he’s walking up to your door. most nights you two spend together. whether he’s at your place or you’re at his place (i think he has a preference for spending the night at your place though. your home smells like you; lavender and vanilla. and he loves your cozy bedroom. he might criticize the excessive amount of pillows on your bed but he secretly loves flopping down onto them and napping). but last night you spent the night separated because you went to hang out with some friends and didn’t get back home until late, and he wanted to work on some program he’s been developing. safe to say, he missed you a lot. and it’s no secret you missed him either.

when you open the door for him, he casually strolls in.

“hi, gigi,” you hum and press a sweet kiss to his cheek, your hands full of the laundry that you’re about to throw into the washing machine. he grins sheepishly and blushes. no matter how much you kiss him, it always makes him a little flustered still. he shuts the door behind him, and then moves to the living room. he sets his backpack down, and then pulls out a little notepad in a very routine manner. you’re bumbling around the apartment, trying to tidy it up before you head out for the day.

he starts writing a list of everything you usually do on saturdays together:

1. take car to car wash 2. get groceries for the week 3. drop box off at post office that y/n has procrastinated sending for the last 3 weeks. do NOT let her say “we can just do it next week” this time.

mid writing his list, he looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. “is there anything else we have to do today? or just the usual stuff?” he hums.

you pause and put your hand on your hip as you think about it.

“hmm. i don’t think…- oh yeah! i need to go to cvs and pick up some stuff too. ran out of face cream,” you nod your head. with a double click of his pen, he jots it down.

“okay, what all do we have on the list?” you inquire, joining him by his side to look over his shoulder.

“i think i’m fine on groceries this week. can always get ‘em later if i need them. you can cross that off” you point at the second item on the list, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders.

luigi guffaws, out of disbelief. though, he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, he stands up from the couch and turns the corner to the kitchen. the distinct rattling of the fridge door opening, followed by the thudding of the cabinet doors closing and opening is your answer to the question you didn’t ask.

you see his hand poke out from the kitchen door, a graceful wave of his fingers beckons you forward. you already know the look on his face without having to see him. when you enter the modest kitchen, he has the refrigerator door propped open. a wrinkle in his forehead forms from his eyebrows being raised out of such skepticism.

“yeah, you don’t need to go to the grocery store, baby? there’s like, 5 cans of diet coke in here and some… nasty old bananas.” he frowns as his hand gestures to the mostly empty space in the fridge.

“okay, fine, lu. we’ll go grocery shopping.” you huff. it’s an argument you’ve had one too many times already. one that you have never won, too. and well, you might not know everything, but you certainly know it’s no use arguing with an engineer. at least not about this.

“i’m driving” luigi deadpans while you two make your way out of your apartment. it’s no surprise, considering the fact that the man has been in the car with you one too many times where you’ve nearly totaled your car. there was the time you were driving into town, and a little puppy on the sidewalk caught your attention and you veered into another lane. that caused a slew of cars honk at you… oh, and there was the other time when you backed into a pole while parallel parking, which luckily only left a small scratch- but gave luigi a heart attack all the same.

yeah, so long as luigi could help it, you were the designated passenger princess.

“okay, fine. can we at least go get coffee first?” you pout up at him as he opens the passenger side door of his car for you.

“well, yeah. thought that was a given,” he says as closes the door and gets in on his side.

luigi also likes driving because he likes to compute the most simple and efficient route possible. he thinks of it as an equation. and you really don’t mind him being your personal chauffeur. where all you have to worry about is what songs you want to play next on the stereo.

when you guys get to the post office after washing your car and getting coffee, luigi is the one who carries the box in for you. so all you have to do is tell the clerk the address you’re sending the package to. he does that often: carrying your things for you. when you go to bookstores, he carries around the pile of books you want to purchase on top of his own. and the same thing will probably happen later when you go to cvs; he’ll carry your little skincare products and bottles of vitamins for you too.

after you’ve finished up at the post office, luigi tugs out his little notebook. he checks off the post office, which is under the crossed out ‘1. go to car wash’.

the next stop is indeed the pharmacy. luigi is doddling along your side, his eyes wide with curiosity as he looks over the multitude of face lotions. though, that doesn’t distract him from the topic at hand. he’s been prattling on about some substack article he read discussing AI today, and also a podcast that he listened to last night while he was up coding. most of the jargon he uses flies right over your head, but he does his best to explain it to you. and even though you still struggle to understand why it’s so important, you just like hearing him talk about something he’s so passionate about. you get a little smug smile on your face, and luigi quirks up an eyebrow and goes, “what?”

all you can do in response is shake your head and look away, trying to suppress your coy grin with a small, “nothing.”

“no, seriously. what are you smiling about? i know AI doesn’t make you this happy, baby,”

“you’re right, it doesn’t. but i like hearing you talk about it. it’s cute,” you’d shrug.

and luigi— really!— no matter how long you two’ve known each other, still gets bashful sometimes when you compliment him out of the blue. he’s got that nerd in him, after all.

and after you’ve finished at the pharmacy, you make your last stop for the day: target. you convince luigi to go there instead of the boring grocery store. much to luigi’s protest too— he knows it’s an excuse to mingle through aisles of things you don’t really need. ‘going to target instead of the actual grocery store decreases our percentage of efficiency so much, y/n’ he usually groans. but for him, he knows that argument is the losing one. something he’ll never win on because you’re stubborn. and you’re cute when you’re pouting and begging him too with those big rounded out eyes of yours. plus, he thinks it’s endearing when you bumble through aisles and pick up random things and show them off to him as if its the most fascinating thing in the world. and anyways, if you two are really on a tight schedule, he’ll pull out the boyfriend move of jokingly placing his hand on the scruff of your neck while directing you towards where you’re supposed to go.

but you two have all the time in the world today, so he pushes the cart for you as you guide him down the candle aisle

“gigi, what do you think of this one?” you ask as you push the dark red jar towards his face. the overtly ‘chai latte’ candle overwhelms his senses. with a scrunch of his nose and exaggerated cough, he shakes his head.

“god no. too much. plus, i like your lavender and vanilla one more. smells more like you.”

you hum in acknowledgment as you pull back the candle to smell again. maybe, he did have a point.

“mm fine. guess you’re right.” you pout out your bottom lip before setting the candle back down on the shelf.

and then you’re finally shuffling off to the grocery aisles, luigi pushing the cart alongside you. strolling through the aisles of food, you’ve managed to pick up a few things. a box of flavored instant oatmeal, some pasta for easy dinners, and a bag of chocolate for morale sit in the cart.

luigi’s eyes glance down at the items. his jaw is tense, his cheekbone hollowed out while the weight of his tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek. he’s unamused, if his facial expression is anything to go by.

“so when are you going to pick up actual food?” his question almost cuts like a knife. it’s not that he tries to sound so brute, but sometimes he just comes across that way when he’s being so direct. it’s the italian in him.

“what are you talking about? this is plenty fine, luigi.” you roll your eyes at him.

“what am i talking about? even the comp sci geeks i know eat more regular meals than you do. you need some actual nutrients. you eat like a canary.” he tuts. he juts his chin forwards and to the side as an indication for you to step out of the way.

speechless, you do. luigi proceeds down the aisle towards the produce section. contempt with your efforts so far, he helps himself to grabbing a bushel of broccoli, a bag of baby carrots too, and a few apples, yogurts, and protein bars to boot.

you roll your eyes at him, “yeah, well now it looks like i eat like a rabbit” you point to the baby carrots and broccoli. luigi snorts at that, and then nods in agreement.

“well you do look like a bunny. so it’s kind of fitting,” he quips, but his tone is more lighthearted and soft now.

your foot stomps in protest at his joke, “do not!”

“yeah, see? you even stomp like one when you’re angry,” he laughs, his grin only growing.

with a sigh of defeat, you shake your head and give him a “fine, whatever”.

and once luigi is content with the amount of groceries in the cart, he finally directs you two to the checkout. he pulls out his own card to pay for them, because he has that kind of sense and need to take care of you. plus, it only seems fair because he almost always comes over and snacks on whatever is in your fridge himself.

when you two finally get home after the few hours spent out and about, it’s a relief. he puts your things away for you in the fridge and pantry. he has a very specific categorization of how he does it- each corner of the fridge has it’s own category. he makes a simple dinner for you two afterwards (probably some pasta with roasted veggies).

the rest of the evening is spent on your couch while he works on his code and you read a book. your feet draped over his lap. for your own amusement, you knock your feet against his hands just to pester him. he always quips back with a “stop that.” oh, and every once in awhile you take a pause and sit up to leer over his shoulder and look at whatever he’s working on. he probably tries to teach you a little bit of code too, which usually goes south pretty quickly and both of you end up bursting into giggles <3333

#sorry this one feels like kinda a flop #i did my best #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione imagine #nerdy bf luigi

182 notes · View notes

bbokicidal · 1 day ago

Text

Who You Are | SKZ [B.C]

a new mini-series where I list some random head canons about the boys based on facts we know about them/can catch onto from media.

genre: fluff / tiny angst pairing: Bangchan x GN!Reader warnings: none

I just noticed there's some like. random facts/things the boys do/how they behave that aren't really talked about in fics on here so I'm doing a mini-series to fix that.

Something more commonly known - This man is SUPER into hugs! Affection in general, but HUGS. Even if it's just hanging on you, he's always happy to be hugging you whether it's something casual and he's just holding on for fun - or if it's more intimate or even comforting. He just really, really likes having you in his arms whenever he can.

Please bake for him. Lix doesn't have a lot of free time these days so his baking duties go to you instead - especially when Chan is whining quietly to himself that the cookies he bought from the store are too hard for his liking. Make him soft cookies - the chocolate chip ones that are gooey, fall apart and melt on his tongue. He wants those types of cookies, please.~

His 'I need to be behind everyone so I can see where they're at' habit also goes for you as well. Whether you're with the group or on your own, Chan's always walking either right beside you or behind you. He loves holding your hand and being close to you of course but he almost prefers walking behind you sometimes because he can actually see you without having to turn his head or side eye you like he's judging whatever it is you're doing. He just needs to have you in his eyesight if you're out and about - who knows what could happen.

If you need something fixed - he's your guy! The boys have said before that Chan is a great mechanic when it comes to fixing wiring for electronics, if a TV or computer isn't working, even other household appliances. And when he's done fixing it all up, he'll organize the cords so that they're neat and aren't too tangled. He leaves it looking brand new every time, even if your television is almost 8 years old. (He gives it a little clean while he's there.)

Chan is wildly good at pretending that he isn't sick even if he is. Or, worse off, while he's injured. Sometimes he overdoes it while working out or maybe he just slipped up and dropped a weight or his wrist bent when he was boxing with Minho; Either way, he is too good at hiding the pain he's enduring. The only time he's open about it and vocalizes how much he's hurting is if it's something more severe; And even then you have to convince him to go in to get it looked at.

Man has a really hard time taking compliments. While you might think it's funny - the way he shies away from your words and gets pink in the cheeks - Chan finds it a little too much; Overwhelming, actually. He'll eventually ask you to maybe tone it down with the teasing, the over complimenting, etc - because while he does appreciate it all, it's just overstimulating for him. It makes his mind reel and whirl with thoughts of 'I need to continue being this accomplished because if I don't, I'll let them down.' and nobody likes having those thoughts plaguing their mind 24/7.

^ Instead of direct compliments that are detailed, i.e. "Chan, you looked so good today! Your hair looked incredible and the outfit you picked out was perfect!" - Chan would rather a simple, "You look really nice today." A simple, sweet acknowledgement of the effort he puts into things whether it be his work, outfits, dates, whatever - is plenty enough for him to feel praised and appreciated.

But while we're on the topic, he does get a little bit pouty if you don't acknowledge something he thought he put a lot of effort into. For example; There was a time he had picked out a new shirt just to match the one you wore for a little date-day he had planned for you and when you didn't notice, he got quiet and a pout settled on his lips until you asked him what was wrong.

The good news is, with this situation, Chan is extremely good at communication. He can tell you, without making you feel bad, that he feels a little unappreciated when you don't notice things he does either for you or with you - or even in general.

Chan also just loves feeling needed. He loves it when you seek him out for advice, to vent, or just to talk to. He thrives off of feeling like he is doing a service to people even if he's just sitting there and listening to you babble about something you got into recently and really like.

He is also quite the perfectionist. Not to the point of him needing to plan every little detail down to the T; But he does take everything into account especially if it has to do with his work. But -- this also applies to dates! He's going to plan your date as well as he absolutely can and he's going to do it in a way that almost prevents anything from going wrong.

That being said, he's also very respectful and willing to listen to anything you have to say, ever. Which means he's more than happy to hear you out with your own date ideas; You feed him your little date fantasies and in turn, he'll make them become your reality!

Chan's mood also determines the atmosphere most of the time. When he walks in the room and it's clear he's not having a great day, people tend to understand that it isn't a good time to pick on him or touch him. Most just give him space. You, though; You're one of the only people he'll ease up on if you come close or cuddle up to him. You're like a little exception.

Chan is a huge fan of Dreamcatcher! If he has the opportunity, he wants to go and see them - which is something you overhear while visiting the studio one day. You end up buying him a concert ticket as a birthday present, even though he probably could've gone for free being in the industry and all - but he highly appreciates it and is almost in tears with how much joy he feels when he sees the ticket. He can't help but ball up his fists and wave his hands around in excitement, eyeing the ticket so hard like he's afraid it'll disappear if he blinks or looks away.

Chan has a fascination and heavily enjoys - drones. He owns a few, or - use to - maybe just one now. Either way, he really enjoys getting to control them and watching them whip around when other people are in control instead. The first time he introduces you to his drone, which he has named (comment what you think he would name it), he insists you try to fly it on your own. When you're too nervous and afraid you'll break it, because it IS expensive, he waves off your worries and helps you control it with his hands laid over top of your own.

During a Trivia event held by the boys in Changbin & Hyunjin's apartment, Jeopardy style of course, Changbin asked a question in which contestants (you, Seungmin, & Jisung) had to name what program Chan uses for Producing. You ding the bell before Jisung has a chance - and Seungmin is completely clueless - and to Jisung's dismay, get the answer right. "Cubase!" Chan's eyes widen in surprise at your knowledge and though he isn't sure how you know that, he's flattered for some reason. Meanwhile, Jisung is clutching his hair in his hands and crying, "How do you even know that?!"

During one year for Christmas, Chan found himself being gifted with a brand new bottle of the Kilian "Back to Black" perfume. He instinctively turned to thank Jeongin, who grew confused as to why his Hyung was doting on him, before claiming he didn't gift that to him. Chan sits back deadpan and turns to look at you instead, where you're sitting next to Felix with a giggly grin. Chan knew you liked his cologne - he was well aware, as you were always huffing his scent when the two of you hugged - but he wasn't aware you knew the name of it. Unless you went snooping...

#skz x reader #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

242 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 days ago

Text

Ludos Imperiales 9

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than usual, I've been sick in bed for a good couple of days and didn't have as much time to write as usual.

Content Warnings: Talk of Depression/Depressive Episodes; Reader Gets Drugged.

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

The Trajan Markets are the pinnacle of growth and development in the Capital, a sign the people said that the Gods favored us above all others. No other province grew as ours does. No other nation boasted such booms in business that a five story building need be built for the sole purpose of selling goods. Our streets have become too crowded, markets overflowing with buyers and sellers until the roads clog and the city becomes too rowdy during peak times of the day. There are other Markets in the city of course, but none as grand as Trajan.

None as easy to hide in as Trajan.

I keep my hood pulled up over my face, a full basket in one hand, the other tapping anxiously along the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. The crowds are heavy, the summer air thick with the smell of sweat and incense and the roasted meat from the food stalls. The heavy din of haggling and bartering makes the pounding of my heart sound far more dull than it had on the crazed dash I’d made to get here. Ditching the Guard to come out had been a challenge; dodging Anise a military feat I think might have made even Cassian proud. Not that Cassian knew I’d left. Or any of my mates for that matter. They would be too recognizable in this crowd; as is I feel like eyes watch my every move. This needs to be quick.

My list of supplies is half scratched off, just a few more pieces of armor and a couple more custom weapons and my mates will be well protected for their next match. I’ve all but thrown myself into the task, as if the extra effort will make the difference in the arena. As if the extra bit of leather might be the very thing that ensures they return to me afterwards.

I try to shake off the pressure driving into my chest like a spike. The Games are tomorrow. I’d chosen Kallias’s Orc for their opponent via a letter--Father hadn’t spoken to me directly since the Council meeting two days ago. I suppose that means Eris has kept his word thus far, but the silence makes time stretch out like a bad dream. I’ve spent nearly every waking moment watching the windows, waiting for the worst to happen.

Abandoning one booth, I move to another, fingers skimming over metal and leather chestpieces alike. All too thin. Too hollow. Orc’s favor axes, they need something that can withstand multiple blows.

The next shop is too flashy. Too many Imperial colors. My stomach turns at the thought of seeing Rhys in Imperial gold.

I dodge a squad of the Praetorian, they’ve been doing routine sweeps through the city more frequently since the parade. Perhaps it’s just Father’s paranoia, but there is a small piece of me that dares to hope that there was some sympathy in the crowd, that someone, somewhere in this damned city felt as horrified as moved to action as I was.

I keep my hood drawn a little lower over my face as I move to the next level. This would be easier if I could have brought them along, no need to constantly double check the scribble of measurements I’d had the tailor make. They could pick what would be most comfortable for themselves, and I’d feel better about sending them off in it, at least they knew what they were doing. But the risk was too great. And worse, I’m a terrible coward.

I haven’t so much as looked at Azriel since the Council Meeting. I’d forced myself to climb into my empty bed and not use the secret tunnels. I’d found anything and everything to keep myself busy the next day. Not because I didn’t want to see him, or any of them, but because I couldn’t bear the waiting. The countdown to the next match had started like a death null in the back of my head. I can’t bring myself to be selfish and sit there with them when there are things within my power to do to save them. It’s not right that I will sit in my cushy booth with a drink while they fight for their lives. I have to give them a fighting chance. I have to do more than last time.

I have to ensure they get back alive. We will have time to work out what we want from each other when this is over. When I can ensure my heart won’t shatter into a million unfixable pieces if something happens.

I give myself a little shake as I skirt past food stalls swarming with several families of Sprites. Trajan, unlike many of the markets on the Square, is full of all sorts of creatures: Trolls and Goblins pull carts of wares down the aisles and up the stairs to the top levels. Pixies and Sprites flit about in the open air, directing traffic. Nephilim with their feathered wings tucked tight shop with Humans and Elves. We are all just shoppers here, none of the Empire’s prejudice to separate us. None of it’s cruelty to turn us on each other. This is how it should be. Tomorrow we will be in the Arena again. The crowds will be different. The atmosphere will be different. It will not be so peaceful.

My next stop is a merchant shop boasting the best armor in the Empire. This will be the third shop with that sign, I don’t have high hopes, but I cannot leave until I’ve searched every shop, exhausted every outlet.

My fingers trace over the plated armor, shaped like scales. The design is well made, but the material… I tap a knuckle against it and hear a dull, hollow echo. Too thin. The next stall, boasts the best greaves and manicas. The extra padding of a sleeve will be useful, and the dark leather, layered like scales would look good on them. I buy three, one for each and add them to my basket before moving on.

A small cart selling ribbons momentarily halts my search, the colors vibrant and blowing softly in the breeze that drifts through the open market windows. I run my fingers over a violet thread, the same shade as Rhys’s eyes.

“That’s a pretty color!” The merchant woman, a human I think, but her ears are tucked under a multicolored head scarf, calls out from the worn stool she sits atop.

If we were normal, I’d braid the ribbon into my hair, boast Rhys’s colors with a bit of black thread for everyone to see. A pang of longing hits me in the chest; we will never be normal people, not while the Empire stands. I’ll go to the Games tomorrow in white and gold to match my Father.

“It is,” my voice shakes as I remove the ribbon from the hook. I shouldn’t. I should be practical. It’s a waist of coin, I can’t wear it anyway. Still…

“We’re having a sale,” the merchant continues. “Three for the price of one!”

The irony makes a laugh bubble out of me. Of course it would be three.

A cobalt one draws my eye next, then a bright red one. Before I can think twice about it, I’ve taken them off the hooks too.

“For anyone special?” She asks as I fish some coins from my purse.

“Of course,” I reply, but I don’t give her any more of an explanation.

The merchant pats my hand affectionately as she passes my change back, a knowing smile on her lips. I tuck the ribbon into the pocket of my cloak that sits over my heart; they’ll be another secret dream, meant for a girl less duty bound as me, but I cannot stop myself from hoping for a chance to one day wear them.

“I hope they bring your lover luck,” the merchant says in farewell.

A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine; they’ll certainly need it.

It had taken hours, but I finally found suitable armor on the fifth floor of the market. Upon sneaking back into the House, I’d left the supplies with the tailor and instructed that she take it to our guests. If the Guard were to ask where she’d gotten it, she’d been instructed to say she’d picked it up in town on her last visit and had just finished adjusting the straps and various ties up until now. A ruse that should be believable and hopefully not be looked into too deeply. I was curious to see what they thought about my decisions, but bringing it in myself felt like it would draw too much attention, so I schemed as best I could and busied myself by going back to the Temple to make some offerings for tomorrow.

I doubt there is enough bronze in the Empire to sway Fortuna, but that doesn’t stop me from offering my sacrifices all the same.

Victoria’s altar gets more than its fair share of bull’s blood and wine; I’ve burned so much incense the warm spice mixture feels like it’s seeping into my skin.

But while my offerings to Luck and Victory may look extreme to the priestesses, they are small in comparison to the blood I spill for the Mother. My nightly prayers have felt feeble and unheard, I remain at the altar far longer than necessary, whispering in Latin for as long as I can before people start asking questions.

By the time I’ve finished, the afternoon heat is settling into a warm evening wind. I gather my spinning thoughts and head to the kitchens to give Cook instructions for our guests' nightly meal. It takes more than a few coins to bribe him into making enough food for a feast and then sending all of it to the guest wing, along with far more deserts than probably necessary.

Everything today has probably been a little more than necessary, truth be told, but I have to do everything in my power to help. I have to tell myself it’s enough. That I’ve exhausted every outlet, covered every angle, left nothing to chance. I won’t sleep tonight as is, but it’ll be worse if I cannot find some way to convince myself that I helped.

I’m so busy directing plates this way and that I don’t even stop to consider that I haven’t eaten today until Anise grabs me by the elbow. With a couple plates in hand, she all but drags me into the triclinium to eat, despite my protest. There is still so much I need to do!

“Sit!” The plate clangs against the table.

The formal dining room has been empty for months. I’ve been eating my meals in my room for one reason or another. She throws open a dust covered curtain with a huff, letting in the last few glimmers of sunlight.

“You’re pale as a fucking spirit!” She hisses at me. Her gnarled hands strike a match and light a few candles along the forlorn tables, her own plate sitting untouched next to me as she fusses over the room.

“Probably high off incense too,” she grumbles.

I place my elbows on the table and brace my face in my hands so I can rub my temples. There’s that stash of mirthroot in my bedside table I’d purchased to trick my Father and I’m tempted to use a little bit of it, just to calm my nerves.

“Do my prayers bother you all of a sudden, Anise?”

She leaves for a moment and returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Glaring in my direction, she fills the first glass to the brim and chugs the entire thing before pouring a second, less generous portion into her glass. “Your reasons more so.”

I grab a fork and stab at a piece of roast chicken. “Do we need to do this tonight?”

She pushes a glass my way as she weighs the bottle in hand, debating if her second glass is really full enough to deal with me tonight.

My eyes fix on the door to the kitchens, where the shadows from the other room make it obvious that some of the staff are listening behind the door. This is not the time or the place. My nerves feel absolutely shot. I run my fingers absently over my ribs, where I feel a burst of power flittering around my lungs, like it just might bubble out and spill from my throat.

“You’ve scarcely made yourself available for it any other time,” she snaps.

I sip the wine and tear into a loaf of bread, swirling it around in the red sauce next to my plate, trying to find ways to swallow down my powers before they hurt someone. Or blow out the window. “For months and months you’ve harassed me about never leaving the house and suddenly it’s become a problem?”

She slams her palms down on the table as she lowers herself into the bench seat. “You were drowning!” Her voice is so loud I can hear the staff listening at the door jump back in surprise.

“Do you know what it was like? Watching you get swallowed up by your grief? It was like watching you be hollowed out, turned into this shell that didn’t care if the world around her caught fire. You were empty and broken, a ghost of a person.”

“I know,” I nod, shifting vegetables around on my plate until they turn to mush in the sauce.

“I couldn’t reach you,” her breath stutters out of her and I look away so I don’t see her cry. “Nothing I said worked! Nothing got through to you. Sending you out to watch the Games…”

I use the wine to try and dislodge the lump forming in my throat. She’s the only real family I have left and I know that all this secrecy has hurt her, but I can’t let her in now. She can only know what’s necessary. If something were to happen to her because I’d told her the truth, I’d never forgive myself.

“I knew you hated them. You’d always come back crying as a child. They’re brutal and bloody and…” She pauses to gulp down more wine. “I thought it would wake you up. That seeing all that death might… might convince you that you still wanted to live.”

She’d been right of course, she always is, just not for the same reasons she’d thought. Her actions had pushed me right onto this path; given me a reason to hold on, to fight.

“It did, Anise,” I start.

“Did it?” She cuts in. “Because this looks a Hel of a lot like self-sabotage to me! Do you have any idea what they’re saying about you in the Capital? What the staff whisper about when you leave the room?”

“You’re the one that’s been pouring contraceptive tea down my throat, I think I can guess.”

Her weathered palm hits the table again, rattling the glasses. “This is not a joke! They kill people for rumors like this! They’ve already tried to do so! Doesn’t that bother you, even a little?”

Truth be told, that Raven has felt like the least of my worries these last few days.

My gaze flicks to the partially open door; how many of the staff will report this conversation to my Father? How many will go into town for one reason or another and gossip in the markets over this little spat? I have to be extremely careful about what I say next.

“Of course it does,” I say slowly.

“Then you know what you have to do to make this right.”

“I’m doing everything that has been asked of me-”

“That’s not what I mean!” She hisses, emerald eyes flashing. “Get rid of them!”

The room spins. Candlelight flickering. The window rattles; table bouncing off the floor. It takes far longer than it should for me to realize that it’s my doing. Dark clouds of ether seep from my skin, slithering out from under the soles of my feet like snakes--like Azriel’s shadows.

Anise gapes at me as more and more pours from my skin, filling the room.

Shit! I draw in a shaky breath and hurriedly pull it all back beneath my skin, until there’s not a drop of it left in the room. The bond is a roaring, living thing in my chest, bashing against my rib cage, filling up my lungs with the acrid scent of smoke. I drown it out with another big gulp of wine while Anise gapes at me like I’ve grown a second head. It has never been that bad before.

I swallow hard and push away from the table. “They’re not going anywhere!” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, the growling a deep rumble from within my chest. I rub absently at the spot where the tension feels the greatest, even as I storm from the room.

Anise doesn’t follow, and the staff scatter out of my way as I sweep throw the kitchen in a huff. How dare she demand I send my mates away! They’re mine to protect! Mine to care for!

Mine.

Darkness trails out from behind me like a scarf, billowing and snapping from where it seeps out of my back. The bond will not quiet, will not stop bashing itself against my insides at the mere thought of being separated from them.

I all but sprint down the hall, looking for somewhere to expel all this energy. Now is not the time to lose control! I have too many things to do before the morning to worry about this new found lack of control.

I make it to the safe room, tucked behind a bookshelf in the library, and rip the key that always hangs around my neck off. My hands tremble as more darkness loops round and round my hands. My breath rasps out of me, chest heaving; I can’t get air in fast enough.

By some miracle, I manage to wrangle the key into the lock and force my way inside before I explode entirely. Darkness, empty and cold and unyielding flies in every direction, until there is no longer light in the room. Until there is nothing but shadow. I surrender myself to it; let it fill and empty itself from every orifice until I no longer exist as I am. There is only darkness. Endless void. Nothingness. The room is inlaid with gorsian stone, so that no outside force could feel the power that escapes me. Mother says she built it in case I needed to hide from the outside world, but I have always known the truth: She built it in case she’d needed to hide the outside world from me.

If this is an indication of the sort of possessive intensity I’m capable of, maybe she was right to do so.

I’m not sure I closed the door. Blindly, I reach out a tendril of power and ensure it's sealed before I let myself sink back into the nothingness. Let everything that is dark and ugly and cold pour out of me like water. It feels as if it might never stop coming out of me; more and more flows like the breaking of a damn.

Until I hear an ominous crack.

The sound in the emptiness pulls me back from the edge and I count down from ten to try and reign my power back in.

Another crack follows, the sound like stone crumbling.

I have to blindly find the door to let out the cloud of darkness that fills the room and find a lantern. Once it’s lit, I find myself gaping up at the ceiling, where my power had not only splintered the heavy layer of concrete, but the gorsian stone as well. The greenish metal splinters in the shape of a lightning bolt as the concrete crumbles and falls away from the roof, littering the floor with debris.

“Shit,” I whisper to no one in particular.

I run back out into the library to grab a chair so I can get a hand on the roof and further inspect the damage. It’s a deep cut, about three inches through the gorsian stone. Not all the way through the other side but enough that I can feel the waning power. The stone is built to absorb and hold power, with a crack like that, it releases into the air like vapor. A clean crack all the way through might very well make the whole room as un-warded and unprotected as another other room.

And there’s nobody who can fix it.

I climb down from the chair with a shudder. No one can know about this. The room itself has always been a closely guarded secret, but if anyone were to see what I had done, what I was truly capable of, forget the mating bond damning me, my powers would ensure my head rolled from my shoulders. Power like that cannot exist within the Empire.

I drag the chair out and lock the door behind me. This place will have to remain a tomb; just another secret to add to my ever growing list.

I place the chair back at the proper table and go to turn off the lamp when it hits me. If I can crack this stone, can I do it with all of them?

My fingers trail absently over my throat as the idea mulls around in my head. Could I hone it just enough that I could be capable of cracking, say a collar?

The house is dark and quiet. I’d spent a lot longer there than I‘d thought! I rush through the now quiet kitchen, nothing left but a few dirty dishes for the morning, and slip into the cellar. Maybe this could be the edge I’d prayed for! Maybe Fortuna had accepted my offerings!

I can’t get the secret door open fast enough, my hands shaking again, but this time from excitement. I could save them! If done right, the collar wouldn’t be an issue, they could fight freely.

I should have brought a light with me. I’d be a liar if I said I was a little disappointed that the other end of the tunnel isn’t already open and none of them are waiting for me on the other end, but I guess can’t really fault them. I haven’t exactly given the impression I’d be coming around any time soon.

I fumble for a few minutes to find the lock, pausing briefly to press my ear to the door to listen for signs that it’s even safe for me to do so. None of the vents have picked up any conversation, which is odd now that I think about it. Have they already gone to sleep?

I turn the lock gently. They do need as much rest as they can get, but if I can give them this advantage, maybe this will be the last time in the Pit they ever have to have. Maybe we can turn things around from here. I have to try.

The door groans when it opens, ominous in the stillness. All the lights are off, the curtains drawn so not even a sliver of moonlight can filter through.

Strange…

I tap at the bond. There’s no sounds of Cassian’s snores. And the thing in my chest is… quiet.

I pick my way carefully over to the room they’ve crammed all their beds in. The door is shut, the metal of the handle cold like it hasn’t been touched in awhile. My heartbeat is a clanging drum in my ears as I turn the knob and push the door open.

It feels like an eternity for the hinges to turn, for the room to come into view. My heart plummets into my stomach, every second of the drop a free fall into the depths of an abyss. The room is empty.

Every room is empty. I check each in a panic, tugging incessantly at the bond but there is only quiet.

This can’t be happening!

I was so close! I was going to be able to fix this!

Footsteps sound down the open tunnel and for a moment the swell of hope threatens to overwhelm me. They’re fine. They’re fine. They’re-

Anise appears in the doorway, frowning.

Just like that, my hope deflates. My legs wobble and I have to brace myself against the base of the statue of the Mother. “Anise, where are they?”

She closes the door behind her, emerald eyes shifting around like she expects some great beast to pop out and devour us. “The Guard came.”

Panic sweeps through me like a title wave, so intense my fingers live indents in the metal base of the statue. “What did you do?”

She huffs at me, offended. “I hadn’t decided what I was going to do yet, since you no longer are capable of seeing reason, but…” she shrugs, “the decision was made for me. The Emperor has declared that no sponsored champions should spend the night before a match anywhere but the Arena’s barracks. To ensure no outside tampering with the gladiators, of course.”

The room flips end over end and it’s a fight just to get enough air in my lungs. No! No! No! This can’t be happening!

“They’ll be returned to you, if they win.”

“Anise,” I don’t know what I mean to say, what I mean to beg for. I have to see them! I have to finish what I came here to do!

“This will be good for you,” she insists. “This obsession of yours is unhealthy. You need to start tomorrow with a clear head.”

“I need to see them!” I choke out.

“The morning will come soon enough. It’s best if you put it out of your mind and get some rest.”

Rest? They stole my mates! The statue rattles beneath my hands as my control weans again. I have to get them back! I have to-

Something pricks the back of my neck as Anise comes around the side of me, her weathered hand outstretched.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she says gently. “I told your Mother it would never come to this, that I would never need to use it. You’ve always had such exceptional self-control, even as a child. It seemed silly that she’d had such precautions, but now…”

It feels like flames beneath my skin, fire shooting up my veins, consuming every lick of power it can find. A hand like a vice clamps itself around the beast that lives in my chest and squeezes so tight my knees give out and I fall like a penitent sinner at the base of the altar.

“Anise-” I choke out.

“It’s just a little faebane, to help with the control. It’ll help you sleep.”

NO!

My body curls up on itself as the burning intensifies. She bends, her old knees popping, to pat my head. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am doing this for your own good.”

Tears prick my eyes as they roll down my cheeks. I don’t know if they’re for me, or my mates.

Anise wipes them away, making shushing noises like she used to do when I was a child with a scraped knee. “I promised your Mother I’d never let anything happen to you.” She coos. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Spots swim across my vision and I thrash my head, trying to fight them off, but it’s useless. The faebane continues to course through me like a wildfire, burning all resistance in it’s path until my limbs go limp and the darkness inside me snuffs out. Worse, the bond, fragile as it is, shrivels further, until it is a hollow, empty echo. I can’t even feel them on the other end.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please, make it stop, Anise!”

She strokes her hands through my hair, humming a lullaby she used to sing me to sleep with, as if this is normal. As if I’m still a child too scared of the dark to sleep. The spots that swim across my vision grow bigger and bigger. I can’t move my limbs enough to struggle, can’t even turn my head.

The chill of the tile seeps through my skirts as my erratic breathing starts to calm, heart rate slowing.

“There you go,” she coaxes. “Stop fighting it.”

“Please,” the word sounds garbled; feels strange in my mouth, my tongue not quite forming the letters.

“Sshhh.”

The spots consume me, darkness yet again filling my vision, but this time it pulls me under as I lose the battle against it.

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

Chapters 1/2/3/4/5/6/ 7/ 8

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

Tag List: @sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe , @raisam

@anainkandpaper, @rafeecameronsbitch, @whothehelliskayleigh, @lifetobeareader , @blimpintime

@hjgdhghoe, @krowiathemythologynerd, @urfunnyvaletin3, @mack234-blog1, @kissesfromnovalie

@marrass, @lia-h-r, @celestialzdiviner, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @tenshis-cake

@of-outerspace, @erencvlt, @corvusmorte, @lindsayjoy444, @raccoonworld

@byteme05, @art1012, @the-tummo, @kiwi-mothball, @onthewaytotimbuktu

@dreamloud4610, @justtryingtosurvive02, @sapphichotmess, @nishinoyastoes, @acourtofladydeath,

@amelya5567, @cardanenthusiast, @auraofathena, @edance2000, @acourtofbatboydreams

@getosimping

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I'm still trying to get a chapter out once a week! <3

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #Cassian x reader #poly!bat boys #poly!bat boys x reader #gladiator!bat boys #gladiator!bat boys x reader #gladiator au #gladiator fic #acotar au #acotar fic #rhysand fic #azriel fic #Cassian fic #my writing #my fanfic

182 notes · View notes

artemis-the-wolf-fiend · 1 day ago

Text

Adding to this list a few things I, as someone diagnosed with OCD, didn't realize were OCD:

-feeling the need to be done with literally everything before allowing yourself to relax

-feeling like you need the right environment or mind space to do something fun (to the extreme of things like "I want to do this but I can't because I have a function in 5 hours")

-aiming for unreasonable weight/calorie goals and punishing yourself when they're not met

-double checking the address of a friend's house you've been to a million times before just in case, or bonus double checking the text where you made plans with that friend because you don't want to accidentally intrude on them

-needing perfect grades or really any form of perfectionism

-not touching a particular surface because it's "gross" in an undefinable way

-any sort of negative manifesting rituals; more personal, but for me these are things like not being able to have my feet on the ground while watching a horror movie or not stepping on cracks

i genuinely think ocd is incredibly underdiagnosed bc i will see people posting what are obvious rituals, compulsions, intrusive thoughts, spiralling, hyper morality, etc and its like Have You Considered This Might Be An Issue

#of course none of these mean you have OCD #these are just some less common compulsions that *may* mean there's something to explore in therapy #there are also many other causes for certain compulsive behavior such as anxiety autism etc.#why doesn’t tumblr let me use commas 😭

47K notes · View notes

pboogerswbb · 1 day ago

Text

SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah?

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway.

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly.

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered.

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are.

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived.

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me.

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss.

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips.

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy.

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses.

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks.

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently.

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin.

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care.

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers @ohmybueckers @potatobears-world @st4yyyy @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34

#so it goes #lilas writing yaps #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x fem oc #wnba x oc

232 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 2 days ago

Note

Cupid’s arrow with law please!!! Have a great day luv u fr

DESCRIPTION: Cupid's Arrow- Could it be love at first sight?

WARNINGS: a little bit of angst (maybe?)

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,311

A/N: Thank you anon for this prompt that was also requested by @evieebear. I hope you both enjoy what I came up with this one and that it's to your liking. Sets place during the Sabaody Arc

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

Sabaody was the final hurdle before entering the New World of the Grandline, the definitive proof that the crew you were on was strong enough to brave the waters. Proof all pirates that made it here were to be taken seriously. That they were worth their bounties given, if not worthy of more. Law couldn’t help but walk with his head a little higher. He’d overheard from some of the local chatter that he wasn’t the only member of the Worst Generation to be here. In fact all of the eleven Supernova’s and their crews had docked on the Archipelago so he had to ensure he set himself apart from the rest, to be the picture of everything the said about the Surgeon of Death. While he wasn’t intentionally seeking any of the others out, he had to be ready for anything and everything, especially a confrontation with them or the Marines.

With time to kill on the relatively calm island he decided to first check the shops before heading to the auction house. He couldn’t deny that when he’d heard there was one here, he was interested and had made it a point to investigate it at some stage while he was here. But it wasn’t going anywhere just yet. Taking relaxed strides he inspected the shop fronts before finally having his attention grabbed by a bookshop. Stepping inside he began to curiously appraise the shelves, not particularly in search for anything in particular but given the size of the shop and variety of books he was sure he wasn’t going to leave empty handed.

Then buried in the wrong section was a medical tome he had been searching for. It was rare and not letting the chance go to waste he reached for it only for another hand to grab it too. Law’s grip tightened possessively, ready to do whatever was necessary to ensure he got this book. He hoped just by making it known he was a pirate would be enough to intimidate this person and get what he wanted. Looking down with a fierce glare he froze to see you looking up at him with equal determination for the book. For a moment Law felt shaken, his goal momentarily forgotten.

He’d seen your picture at a glance in your bounty poster but hadn’t paid it much attention, more interested in the trouble your Strawhat Captain was getting himself and the rest of you into. In person though? It was so different. Law was never one to be thrown by superficial things like looks-not including cute things- but he couldn’t stop staring at your face, pulled in by the sharp gleam in your eyes and purse of your lips as you were readying yourself for the same fight he had been before setting eyes on your face. Quickly he was snapped out of his daze when you pulled the book out of the shelf and he regained his grip on it. “I grabbed it first.”

“No you didn’t.” You argued, refusing to back down. “I need this book, for my crewmate.”

“If they're a skilled enough Doctor then they won’t need it.” Law stated, trying to come up with some sort of argument in the hopes to convince you to let it go but instead you smirked at him.

“Is this your way of saying you’re a bad doctor?” Law was taken aback and felt heat prickle up the back of his neck at both your comment and at how your playful smile made his heart skip slightly. “Do you need the book for more training?”

“I don’t need training.”

“So you’re a skilled doctor?” You smiled, eyes glinting.

“One of the best.” Law affirmed but felt nervous at that when you stepped closer, you hold staying firm on the book.

“So you don’t need the book?” You posed the question sweetly and Law cursed himself for getting backed into a corner from the stupid argument he made. He had to get this stupid infatuation that blindsided him from nowhere under control. All this time he considered your Captain the biggest troublemaker but now he wasn’t so sure the more he stared at you, and he wanted to keep staring at you.

He was about to speak when from behind him a couple kids ran by excited to get to the section beyond you both were all the books and comics suited for their ages sat. The brief second was enough distraction for Law as he moved to avoid getting knocked into by the kids and you managed to slip the book out of his hold. With a hum of satisfaction you immediately wasted no time in moving towards the register to pay. Only to get stopped a few steps away by Law’s hand on your arm. You glanced at the tattooed hand, silently impressed by the strength in his grip. You looked up at his serious expression and smiled before giving a sigh. As fun as it was you had to meet up with the others soon. Law stared down at you, conflicted; annoyingly so. Why did he not want to fight you about the book he’d been searching years for? His fingers twitched against your arm, telling himself to be rational and ignore how his heart was beating at a pace faster than usual. Quickly he dropped his hand. “I…I hope your doctor appreciates how valuable that book is.”

“What’s the catch?” You asked with a curious smile. “Planning to steal it after I buy it?”

“What? No. I just…I saw it here didn’t I? I’m confident I’ll come across it again.” Law explained tightly.

“Aww, you’re a romantic at heart. Believing in fate, even if it is about a book, it’s unexpected but cute.” Cute? Law’s face froze once more as he tried to deny the accusation. Why did you make his so flustered and tongue-tied? He didn’t even know you. Thankfully you didn’t press further and turned away to buy the book, allowing him to make his exit and go to the auction house, assured you most likely wouldn’t go there.

How wrong he was. That exchange in the bookshop seemed like a pocket of calm compared to the hell that broke loose just a couple hours later. Law had stayed out of the fight you and your crew had gotten themselves into with Kuma and Kizaru and while he knew it would be best to get as far away as possible he couldn't look away. When you were hit hard and thrown backwards across the battlefield he tensed. Then one by one the Strawhats were disposed of by Kuma’s strange ability, literally vanishing. Law had his gaze on you, watching you too weak to force the power into your legs to try and escape as Luffy screamed at those remaining. When Kuma’s hand was about to make contact with your body, Law acted. Using his own ability he used his room to swap you over. He grabbed you as you slipped in and out of consciousness and hurried as fast as he could, knowing the Warlord would be aware someone intervened.

When Law had you safely in the medical room of the Polar Tang he couldn’t help but look at your face as you slept. Why had he saved you? His body just reacted before his mind could stop him. But that pang of fear he felt when he saw you-someone he only knew for a matter of seconds- get hurt and be at risk of disappearing was real. The relief he felt when you were safe in his arms was real too. It was deep and from a place that something as small of a crush couldn’t explain. Was it foolish to consider that maybe it was fate? Perhaps but that didn’t make it any less real.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534 , @rosemary-lungs , @thecraftywriter , @rorozorolover , @yagirlsmuchelle , @engenemoazen , @sukunasstomachtongue , @nico-ith

183 notes · View notes

joeybsversion · 3 days ago

Text

Stress

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader plan their wedding together

“I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.” You huff as Joe walks into the room, a protein shake in his hand.

“What’s wrong baby?” He takes a seat at the table next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him.

You place your head in your hands and take a deep breath, “Wedding stuff.”

He turns the screen back towards you, “Let’s take a break.”

“Joe.” You sigh. “We can’t. There’s only 5 Sundays between now and the wedding… and you have games on 4 of them.”

“But that means we should still have one Sunday, right?”

“Wishful thinking,” you tease. “You play Monday night in Arrowhead which means you’ll be out of town.”

“Damn it.” He shakes his head, trying to come up with another solution. “What are you the most stressed about right now?” He questions, taking a sip of his shake.

“All of it. I mean we need to figure out music. And what if people don’t like the venue? What if the bar runs out of drinks? How long do we want the ceremony to be? How many appetizers should we serve during cocktail hour? And are we having an after party? What if we have too many people and not enough space on the dance floor? Is grandma gonna like the dessert? And -“

Joe cuts you off “woah, woah, woah. You can’t be worried about all the ‘what-if’s’ and pleasing everyone.”

“But I am.” You feel tears build pressure behind your eyes.

“This day is about us. Not pleasing everyone else.”

“Joe. This isn’t just an ordinary wedding, we’re entertaining hundreds of -“

“I know. I understand what you’re saying. But if we sit here and think about what can go wrong, we won’t have time to plan the things that will go right.” He pulls the computer over in front of himself. “What is the thing you’re the most stressed about?”

“Joey.” You laugh. “I’m stressed about stress before there’s even stress to stress about.”

The tall handsome quarterback erupts into laughter and shakes his head. “Let’s start from the beginning. Didn’t you say something about music?”

“Yeah. We need to make a ‘don’t play’ and ‘please play’ list for the DJ.”

“That’s a good starting point!” He reassures you. “What’s on our ‘please play’ side?”

“What gets everyone up and moving?”

“I’m not overly picky.” He shrugs, “we listen to some oldies at practice and warmups.” He adds a few of the teams favorite songs to the spreadsheet in front of him. “You pick the rest.”

“Joey.” You giggle, “You only added 2 songs.”

“I want you to pick.”

“You always make me pick the music.” You wine.

“I do.”

“Why?”

He smiles. “You get so excited when you pick it and a song you love comes on. Your body starts swaying and you get a huge smile.”

You giggle to yourself. He’s not wrong. “What if people don’t like my music?”

“Baby. You have to stop worrying about pleasing everyone.”

“I know but -“

He takes your hand. “I know this is stressful, and you want it to be perfect for everyone, but let’s have fun with it. Think about it, we get to spend a whole day together, with all of our friends and family, and it ends with a fun trip to Hawaii. 7 beautiful days under the sun. The wedding will be perfect, but I know we’ll love the honeymoon more. Just us. No crowds. No one to greet or please.”

“You’re right.” You smile at him.

He closes the laptop.

“Joe, we-“

“Shhhh.” He puts a finger to your lips. “I actually just thought of one thing we can work on.”

“What’s that?” You sigh, peeling yourself away from the laptop.

“The kiss.” He smirks. “We should practice.”

“We should.” You agree, pretending as if you guys hadn’t shared thousands of kisses before.

“Kissing?” He questions.

“Kissing.” You confirm.

“I’m a whole 8 inches taller than you. There’s a lot that could go wrong.” He teases.

“You stand here,” you position him, “and I’ll be right across from you over here.” You stand in your spot.

He takes both of your hands in his. “They’ll say something like, ‘I now pronounce you Mr. And Mrs. Burrow. You may now kiss the bride!” He announces, chin high and proud before leaning down to envelope you in a passionate kiss.

You giggle, pulling away, a huge smile on both of your faces.

“How did that go? Can we mark it off our list, Mrs. Burrow?” He laughs.

“I’m not Mrs. Burrow yet.” You remind him. “There’s still time for me to live out my runaway bride dreams.” You smirk.

“Not funny.”

“What?” You giggle, slowing backing away. “I’ve always loved a good chase!” You take off, running laps around the kitchen island and through the house until Joe finally catches you, tackling you on the couch.

Eye to eye, nose to nose, the room was filled with tension and stress from wedding planning which quickly melted away as your lips met again for a breathless kiss.

“I can’t wait to marry you, Joey.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram #nfl fluff #nfl smut #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #nfl fic

297 notes · View notes

wordnerdwonderland · 1 day ago

Text

*It's also useful for linking things when I'm on like, Reddit and want to just send the meme itself to a friend rather than a link to the reddit post. *And lists *And rants that no one else will want to read *Anything I need to track when I last did it gets a channel dedicated to tracking it so I just have to go "Today" or "now" in it. *Reminder timers to do things, since no one else can see it, I can both set reminders I'd be embaressed if anyone saw, and know as soon as it pings in there that it was something important since that server doesn't get any other notifications

does anybody else have a discord server thats only yourself and nobody else exclusively used to send images from your mobile phone to your tablet or computer

33K notes · View notes

dreamauri · 9 hours ago

Text

♪ — 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗬 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . after a night out clubbing with your boyfriend. And, similarly to every other girl in the club who wore high heels, your feet were aching. So, as your boyfriend, Lando, carried you away. Pun intended in applicable (365 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

The party had been great—loud music, expensive drinks, and just the right amount of chaos. But now, at nearly two in the morning, your feet are killing you.

Your heels, which had looked stunning with your dress earlier in the night, now feel like instruments of torture. Every step is a sharp reminder that beauty is pain, and right now, you are very, very over it.

“Lando,” you whine, slowing to a stop. “I can’t. My feet are falling off.”

Lando, walking a step ahead, turns with a grin that immediately makes you suspicious. “Yeah?”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah. I need a second.”

He eyes your shoes, then looks back up at you. “Take them off.”

You wrinkle your nose. “And walk barefoot through London? Do I look like I have a death wish?”

“More like a stubborn streak,” he mutters, shaking his head. Before you can react, he steps closer—way too close—then suddenly hauls you up like you weigh nothing.

A startled squeak leaves your lips as he slings you over his shoulder, one arm wrapped around your thighs, the other resting casually against your lower back like carrying you around is the most normal thing in the world.

“Lando!” You smack his back, not even that mad but definitely not expecting to be treated like a sack of grapes. “Put me down!”

“Nah,” he says easily, starting to walk again. “You said your feet hurt. Problem solved.”

“This is not a solution—this is kidnapping.”

“This is called being a good boyfriend.”

You groan, letting your arms hang uselessly down his back. “People are gonna see.”

“They’re gonna see how much I love my girlfriend and how I personally carried her home because she looked too damn good tonight, and I didn’t trust anyone else to get her there safely.”

Your heart does a stupid, annoying little flip at that. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re still in my arms,” he points out. “Which means you secretly love this.”

You don’t answer because—well. He’s not wrong.

Instead, you let your head rest against his back with a soft sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Lando chuckles, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. “I know.”

165 notes · View notes

burrowdarling · 2 days ago

Text

The Offline Series 001

Summary: The introduction to The Offline Series, covering the last day of the regular season and the beginning of the postseason.

Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: This series will have mentions of adult content throughout so MDNI

Note: Hi everyone and welcome to The Offline Series! It's taken some time and rewriting, but the first part is finally here. I have plans to do specific events like the Pro Bowl Games as well as other ideas as connected standalones. I'm excited to create this small for these two and I hope you'll come along for the ride! Asks about these two are always welcome, I'd love to develop a world for them.

Word Count: 5.6k (my longest fic yet!)

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez @jburrgf Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

The past few days have felt a bit tense in the house with the season ending the way it had. Of course, you had wished things had gone differently, but it only made you more hopeful for the next season to come. Things were very touch and go when it came to Joe’s mood. Which was to be expected. You were so proud of him and the way he was able to lead the team to a winning record by the end of the season. You knew Joe was beating himself up about it despite the records he was breaking and the path he was paving in the NFL as a whole. You knew he was MVP material and it gutted you that he wasn’t in the conversation with the numbers he was putting up despite the final scores of each game.

He was processing the way he always would, by himself in his own way. He was going to the gym, meeting with who he needed to, throwing himself into everything else but rest. Arguably that also meant it was most things except time with you. You hadn’t seen too much of him recently, but you could feel his lower energy in the house even when he wasn’t around. Things felt colder and you had to admit you were starting to get a bit lonely. You thought back to that Sunday when the big shift in him happened while you went around the house and tidied, not like there was much when one of your stress relievers was cleaning.

**Flashback to Sunday**

You had the 4:25 games all on at once, each game taking up their respective corners of the screen. You were hopeful that having more than the two games would provide some kind of distraction, but you knew his mind was elsewhere when he kept his vision darting between the two opposing corners of the screen. You wished you could read his mind, making sure to remain close enough if he needed you, but far enough that he was able to be with his own thoughts.

You knew that the other guys were glued in the same positions after talking with the other girls. There was a constant stream of messages in your group chat talking about how the guys were doing and sharing the experience with one another through the phone. By some miracle, you hoped the Jets and Broncos would pull this off. You had a deep gut feeling based on the Chiefs lineup that things weren’t going to go the way you needed them to. The most you could do was hold out hope and watch with cautious optimism. You found yourself copying Joe’s movements, unable to look away from the two most important games. The Jets were starting off strong and that lifted some weight, but the Broncos came out swinging so fast against the second stringers for the Chiefs.

You couldn’t blame them, really. It was no other team's job to win or lose for someone else, but that didn’t make the game on the screen any less frustrating to witness. The amount of time the Chiefs quarterback was taking in the pocket from having no open players to pass to, it was no wonder he was getting sacked left and right. The score just kept getting higher and higher, the Bengals chances slipping away the more the Broncos scored. The Jets win wasn’t even necessary at this point, feeling worse knowing everything had gone to plan except this once game.

You kept glancing over at Joe, watching the light in his eyes fade with the passing time. You knew he was worried about the outcome as much as he tried to hide it. He wanted a chance in the playoffs, working his ass off to finish with the win streak they had, not to mention the records he was breaking for himself and on the team. If anything he turned colder, feeling the shift in him from where you were sitting on the couch. You made no move to touch him let alone speak to him when he got like this. You didn’t know which version of Joe you would get and you weren’t in the best mindset to find out.

By halftime, Joe had retreated to his office without a word and you let him. You couldn’t get yourself to turn the screen off, watching the abysmal scene in front of you at the Chiefs vs Broncos game. The amount of things that had to go the Bengals way, it felt like it was so far fetched. It really did come down to this one game. The score was so far gone, it was purely to see how far the Broncos would push it.

Towards the end of the fourth quarter, you turned the game off and made your way to the kitchen to make something for dinner. You didn’t know if Joe would eat, but you had to at least try. You cooked his favorite, plating some for yourself and making him a plate. You walked cautiously up to his office, a warry feeling sitting in your chest as you got closer to the closed door. It was silent on the other side, able to hear a pin drop. You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves before you faced what could be on the other side of the door.

You knocked gently on the door, hearing some grumbling on the other side before the door was pulled open. You were met with a blank faced Joe, his hair roughed up from his fingers tangling in it. You knew better than to mention a word about the game. Joe was beating himself up more than you could even imagine. You held his gaze, trying your best to keep things direct as you moved the plate in your hands towards him.

“I made you some dinner in case you were hungry. I’m gonna take a shower and get in bed to read for a bit. In case I fall asleep before you, I love you and I’m here if you need me,” you said and weren’t expecting any type of verbal response back.

He looked down at the meal you made him, watching as the slightly bit of tension dropped from his shoulders. His eyes moved back up to yours and the smallest ‘thank you’ slipped past his lips. You arched up on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, his frame always towering over you. He took the plate from your hands and gave you a nod before turning to close the door. You let him shut himself inside, knowing that all you could do at this point was wait for him to come around. You wouldn’t stop showing him small acts of kindness and support, knowing he was still appreciative even if he didn’t show it. You would always be there to take care of him and you weren’t stopping now.

**End of flashback**

You had your current read perched in your lap, trying your best to keep your mind occupied on something that wasn’t the thick feeling in the air. You were doing anything you could to keep yourself busy-reading, cooking, cleaning, even leaving earlier for work, and getting yourself a coffee in the morning rather than making it at home. You knew Joe would open up when he was ready, but the meantime wasn't always the easiest to manage. You felt your phone buzz on the couch next to you, lifting it to see what the notification was. You saw that it was an Instagram post notification from Joe because of course, you have his notifications on. It was a rare occurrence when he would post anything so you had to be in the know. You clicked on the notification, having an inkling of what it could be, but the wind was still knocked out of your chest as you read his caption.

"Season to remember, sorry you won’t get to watch anymore. Year 5 in the books."

You stared at your phone for a moment, processing the post he made. You felt your heart break for him, unsure of what could be going through his mind while he was upstairs. Swiping through the few photos he posted along with it. The first photo being of “the big three” as everyone has been calling them. The next two being of himself on the field and the last of him and Ted. You felt like you could sense the emotion through the phone screen.

He came down from his office a little while later, his hair ruffled from constantly running his fingers through it. You could imagine him sitting at his desk, looking for the right thing to say to his fans. The movement of gripping his locks through his fingers was a way of grounding himself when he felt overwhelmed. You noticed it as the season had gone on, tending to do it more often in press conferences when all he wanted was to be at home either alone in his office or with you. He went over to the fridge to grab something to drink, spinning off the cap and taking a huge swig as he walked over to where you were in the living room. You had on some mindless TV show in the background for noise, not paying it much attention.

He came to sit down next to you on the couch, slouching into the cushions with a deep sigh escaping past his lips that he must've been holding in. You shifted to sit up criss-crossed with a blanket draped over your lap. You patted the spot on your lap gently, signaling Joe to rest his head in your lap. He moved to you without a word, positioning his long limbs on the couch to settle his head in your lap with his legs draping over the edge of the armrest.

“Take this as a chance to just be offline for a while. You spent months holding so much of other people’s bullshit all season. You deserve to take the offseason as time for you,” you spoke softly as you started to gently touch his head and felt him lean into your hand.

Joe let out a sigh of contentment as he settled into your touch. You knew it was something that made him feel safe and grounded. You ran your hands through his hair, giving him time to process your words and respond. A break was something Joe wasn’t the most familiar with, always needing to be on and moving all of the time.

“I know you’re right. It’s just hard to shut my mind off sometimes. It’s hard to feel like I could’ve done more, still can do more to prepare for next season. I don’t want to have the same rhetoric from everyone next season like I did this year.”

You felt your heart break for him. There was an ache in your chest at his admission, feeling a small tear drop against your exposed skin. You leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his temple, letting your lips linger there.

“I know you worked your ass off Joey, you always do. You also earned yourself some time to unwind for a while, let your body rest. I’m excited to finally get to spend some uninterrupted quality time with you. Your mind and your body deserve to heal J, I’ll be here with you while you do. I already know you’re gonna come back stronger than ever.”

You tilted his chin up, turning his head towards you. You looked down and the gentle giant with glossy eyes in your lap. The thought brought a smile to your lips and a small laugh. You leaned over once more, placing a kiss to his pouting lips this time. You were about to sit back up, but Joe kept you in place. The kiss began to get more intense, feeling a small fire igniting within you at his tongue grazing across your lower lip.

You were putty in his hands, body willing to do whatever it was that he wanted. Joe loved how reactive you were to his touch, no matter how small or innocent it was.

A small moan escaped your lips, unsure of how you guys ended up in a full makeout after having such a deep moment. You finally pulled away, the angle becoming too much for you as you started to get a bit light headed. You weren’t sure if it was from having your head turned or the intoxicating pull that was Joe, figuring it had to be some kind of combination of the two.

“Sorry hun, I couldn’t keep my head like that for much longer. I was only trying to make you feel better, not —” you were cut off from your apology with a much gentler kiss placed on your lips.

“I know that, this was one of those times I was at a loss for words to tell you how much I love you so I figured I would show you instead. I know I can get in my head a lot, I really do appreciate that you give me the space to think.”

“Of course, Joey. You know I’ll always be here whenever you need to talk. Me forcing you isn’t going to do either of us any good in the long run. You also know I’ll happily be a willing participant to your throes of affection. In that case you’re more than welcome to show me properly.”

Joe sat up and took your hand in his to guide you off the couch, moving so quickly towards the stairs.

“Don’t mind if I do, all you had to do was say the word.”

Joe was always amazing in bed, but there was something even deeper about the way he would make love to you. Everything felt ten times more intense than usual, his passion unmatched. You were left lying there breathless, the sheets haphazard over the bed with your body tucked snuggle into Joe's side. His hand gently grazes your side, slowly lulling you to sleep. Exhaustion almost overtook you before his voice broke through the silence that enveloped you.

“Thank you for everything that you do for me. I know I’m not the easiest to love, but I’m grateful for you everyday,” his words waking you from your sleepy state.

You turned around to face him, his arm falling between you as you did. You moved your hands up to cup his cheek, feeling him lean into your soft touch as you stroked the stubbled skin. You felt Joe release a breath he must’ve been holding in and let his eyes fall closed. It was the most relaxed you had seen him in days.

“Joey loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, doing this with you makes the highs and lows worth it all.”

You saw a quick tear slip past his defenses, quick to wipe it away hoping you didn’t see. It was too late for him though, you were too busy doting on him. His eyes looked up to meet yours and it was over for him. Joey tucked himself into your body as if you would make the pain he was feeling go away just from your touch. The more tears streamed down his cheeks onto your exposed skin, silent sobs racked his body and all you could do was hold him. Whispering sweet nothing in his ear while stroking his back with light scratches of your nails. Your heart split in two at the pain he must’ve been feeling, it being so hard for him to let you in.

You have no idea how long you two laid there, your gentle giant finding his solace in your smaller embrace. As his tears seemed to settle and his body relaxed, the tension finally dissipated his body for good from the emotional release. Joe sniffled as he pulled back from your neck. His baby blue eyes were red, his face flushed pink. You brought your hands up to wipe any stray tears from his face. Joe seemed to be closer to his normal self, something still holding him back.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, able to tell that there was something he wanted to bring up.

“I got an offer to attend the Australian Open and I’ve been thinking about it, it could be a different experience for me. I wasn’t necessarily gonna go, but after we talked I think I’m gonna tell them yes. I was hesitant because I was honestly still feeling so down on myself, but you’re right that I deserve to go out and enjoy the fun things like everyone else has been doing. People are gonna talk regardless so I might as well be happy while they do,” Joe said with a finality to his words and a returning sense of confidence you hadn’t seen for a bit.

“That’s awesome sweetheart, I totally think you should go. Get out of the cold in the land down under,” you joked back with him wishing you could escape the throes of the Cincinnati winter.

By the look on his face, you could tell he wanted to make some kind of oral joke but was holding himself back to preserve the moment the two of you were sharing. You felt him pull you in closer to his chest, his arms securing you in like a fortress from the outside world. You rested your head on his solid chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat bring you a feeling of comfort.

“They offered for you to join me of course, but I know you can't just take off of work that easily. I wish I could have you there with me, I really am sorry for being such a dick and icing you out,” Joe spoke as he peppered the top of your head with kisses

“I would love to go with you, but I already finessed time to go to Orlando for the Pro Bowl Games with you, unfortunately. I’m excited for you to get that experience and can’t wait to hear all about it. I’ll be here when you get back, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“I’d hope so, don’t be surprised if I don’t let you out of my sight when I get home,” Joe warned in a teasing tone you knew all too well meant only one thing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way lover boy,” you pushed back, giving him a kiss to his nose. “I’m starting to think I’ll have to make you a self-care plan to ensure you actually take a break for once.”

“Does this plan involve you in all sorts of positions for me,” Joe teased as he brought his hand to cup your bare breast, swiping his thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped at his touch, still feeling sensitive. You lightly smacked his hand away as you feigned offense. Your body’s reaction betrays you in that moment, feeling the heat begin to form in your center. You had to be the voice of reason for once, both of you needing some kind of sleep more than anything.

“Get your mind out of the gutter for once, I actually meant it seriously. If I need to take the time to make one for you I will,” you said and you meant it, “just because I work with kids doesn’t mean it can’t apply to you too.”

You worked in mental health, mainly with kids and adolescents. You were able to be a safe space for them to learn how to share, develop healthy coping skills, and work through anything that was going on with them. There were times that you could see where Joe would benefit from taking a different approach. He was such a big advocate for mental health, but he didn’t always give himself the same grace when he needed it.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll behave and take my time. I was honestly thinking of getting a massage tomorrow if you’d like to come with me. It could be a great way for us both to destress,” Joe suggested.

The idea did sound incredibly tempting, knowing you had your own knots and pent up tension stored in your body. You hadn’t gone for a massage in ages and Joe always got them as a form of restoring his body during the season.

You rolled over, feeling Joe sniggle up behind you as he draped an arm over your waist, “you let me know when and where, you bet I’ll be there.”

Joe’s trip to Australia came and went in a flash, sticking true to his word and making sure he showed you just how much he missed you. Claiming he needed some way to ‘exhaust himself’ and get him to sleep from the massive time change he was combatting. He told you all of the stories from his time there that you hadn’t already heard over the phone while you two lay in bed. You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep, being lulled into slumber from the warmth and presence of your boyfriend.

That next morning, you woke up to Joe splayed out next to you. He looked so peaceful; with the thin white sheet draped across his lower half, chiseled chest on full display for you to admire. Both of you had forgotten to pull the shades over after yesterday’s activities, the morning sun casting a warm glow across his sun kissed skin. It felt like a crime to wake him, but you had massage therapists coming to the house. Joe wanted to keep things private and got a few people to come here that he’s worked with through the team during the season. You were grateful considering how tender each of your muscles felt from last night, skin heating at the thought.

The least you could do was wake him gently, shifting on the mattress so you were level with his stomach. You always admired Joe’s body and he damn well knew that. You never got the chance to do so this close and unrushed though. You took your time absentmindedly tracing patterns across his skin, lightly dragging your fingertips through the dips and curves of his muscles and hips. You dropped your lips to his warm skin, making a path of kisses up to his neck. You felt him stir about halfway through, glancing up to see a barely there smile on his lips.

You could tell he was trying to remain “asleep” to not interrupt your pursuit. You decided to have a little fun knowing he was awake. You dragged your lips up his chest, lightly sucking at the skin on the base of his neck. You felt his breath hitch underneath your lips feeling satisfied. You nipped at his ear causing a groan to come from Joe, unable to hold back his facade any longer.

You could tell he was trying to remain “asleep” so as to not interrupt your pursuit. You decided to have a little fun knowing he was awake. You dragged your lips up his chest, lightly sucking at the skin on the base of his neck. You felt his breath hitch underneath your lips feeling satisfied. You nipped at his ear causing a groan to come from Joe, unable to hold back his facade any longer.

He shifted quickly, tucking you under his body as his strong arms caged you into him. You giggled as he ducked his head and nipped at your neck, knowing it was where you were super ticklish. His attacks against you were ruthless, leaving you begging him through sputters of air and laughs to get him to cease fire.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, trying to regain control of your breathing.

“I could say the same thing to you too, I’m not complaining if I get to wake up to your touch every morning,” Joe said as he ducked back down in an attempt to move things further.

You stuck your hand out as a barrier to stop him. You wouldn’t have nearly enough time with your massage appointments happening soon. You wanted to freshen up quickly to be ready for them when they got there.

“We’re not gonna have any time right now, J. They’re gonna be here in,” you looked down at your bare wrist, a small laugh rumbling in Joe’s chest at your humor, “like 10 minutes.”

“I’ll bet you I only need three of those ten if you let me,�� Joe tried to press, hoping to win you over with a morning orgasm to start your day.

You had to admit, it was definitely a tempting offer. Joe loved lazy morning sex with you, feeling the lack of time constraints and pressure. It was his favorite way to start his day when he could. There were also mornings where quickies would wake either of you up before you had places to be, connecting before your busy days. You contemplated the idea, Joe wiggling his eyebrows suggestively above you trying to entice you. You also would have the rest of the day with this being the only thing you had planned. You worked to flip yourselves to get you on top, Joe grinning thinking that he would be getting his way. You slipped off of him, throwing on some semblance of clothing and ran your fingers through your hair to tame it.

Joe groaned feeling like you pulled a trick on him. Before he could protest you, the sound of the doorbell ringing sounded through the stillness of the house. A smile crossed your lips as you started to make your way out of the room, turning back once you reached the frame of the door. You left him alone in bed, sat up against the headboard frustrated from your absence. He looked lost, a pout formed on his lips and a prominent bulge obvious underneath the thin fabric of the sheet.

“You should probably take care of that before you come down, I don’t think your massage would appreciate it,” you said with a smirk as you disappeared down the hallway

“Oh you’re gonna get it later sweetheart,” Joe called after you, making you laugh at the promise.

You composed yourself before pulling the door open. You greeted them kindly, letting them in to get everything setup in the living room. The pair seemed lovely, telling you a bit about themselves while getting their things ready. They handed you a robe and requested you change into whatever made you feel the most comfortable. You left to change, tying the robe overtop of the bralette and sleep shorts you put on. You were exiting the bathroom when Joe made his way down the stairs in a pair of tight alo shorts. They were sitting high up on his thighs as if he had them pulled up, the glimpse at the skin making your mouth water.

It was like he could read your mind, choosing those on purpose as a form of payback for leaving him alone to take care of himself. He dropped you a wink before passing you to say hello, taking the second to shake those thoughts from your mind for the time being. This was technically your fault, but you knew it would also make him more worked up later.

You both laid on your respective tables and let the two ladies get to work. You had never gotten a massage before, not thinking it was a necessity, but having a change of heart after the first few minutes. The lotion felt and smelled absolutely amazing, giving reprieve to your aching and neglected muscles. Your shoulders felt the tightest from how much sitting you had to do at work, constantly seated in different positions at your desk or on the floor if that’s what your clients preferred during their sessions. Sighs of content and groans of pain as she worked tumbled from your lips without a second thought. Joe was mostly silent, making you realize how often he did this and was used to it by now.

Knots you didn’t even know you had were being pressed and worked. You couldn't help the groans of relief that left your mouth, trying your best to taper the sounds. Turning to look over at Joe whose pupils were blown wide as his back was being worked on as well. You let your eyes trail down his frame, knowing exactly what was under the sheet covering his lower half. Your body was heating, feeling conflicting feelings of tension and relaxation as your masseau’s hands worked wonders at alleviating your deep seated stress. You turned your head to face away, knowing it would be for the best.

You made small talk the best you could, finding it hard to speak when certain tight areas were touched, cutting off whatever it was that you were saying. It made you wonder how Joe did this as often as he did, focusing on the temporary hurt being worth it in the end. After about 40ish minutes, they began to finish up and gave you both a few minutes to relax while they went and cleaned up their hands.

You sat up to stretch, reaching your arms above your head and appreciated the lack of pain when you did. You felt Joe’s eyes locked on your body sensing the heat in his gaze without meeting his eyes. He stood up off of his table, not worrying about wrapping his robe back around him. He came to where you were sitting, leaning into you with his hands pressing into the massage table on either side of your legs. His knuckles brushed against your exposed skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Joe leaned down more to meet your ear, bracing for what filth was about to come out of his mouth.

“You bet your sweet ass the minute they leave, I’m gonna have you screaming my name for so long your voice will be gone by dinner time,” he whispered, his voice husky and dripping with lust.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was only barely lunch time. You breath caught in your throat as Joe brought one of his hands up to cup your cheek, slipping down to lightly grip your throat. You swore you forgot how to breathe, getting so lost in the moment that the sound of running water scared you back into reality. Remembering you weren’t alone and could get caught with Joe hand around your throat at any moment made a new wave of pleasure wash over you.

You separated when you heard the footsteps begin to get closer. Heat crept up your cheeks at almost being caught in a not so innocent position, even if you were in your own home. You chatted for a few minutes while they packed everything up. You talked about tentative plans for another appointment soon, now that you knew what you were missing out on. You had barely walked them out the door before Joe was behind you in his robe. Your front was pressed against the cold material of the front door, eliciting a gasp from your parted lips.

“Do you know how hard it was to just lay there knowing you were wearing so little beside me,” Joe said as he slipped your robe off your shoulders placing kisses to the exposed skin, “making all of those little noises of yours.”

Joe slipped the robe off the rest of your body, letting it fall to the floor. Turning you around to face him, keeping your proximity to one another so close it was hard for you to spin. He dropped to his knees before you, taking in the sight before you. He slipped off your shorts, growling at the sight before him.

You had forgone underwear, forgetting to sip some on after this morning and assuming the coverage of the shorts would be sufficient enough. In hindsight, it worked as easier access for a moment like this.

“Naughty girl, getting that entire massage while eye fucking me with this bare pussy,” Joe chastized into the flesh of your thighs, alternating between kissing and nipping at your skin.

“I was too preoccupied this morning, I guess I must’ve forgotten,” you spoke, half lying as you tried to keep your head on straight from his touch so close to where you wanted him the most.

“Likely story, you could’ve had this pussy wrapped around my cock this morning, but someone had to be a tease,” Joe said as he brought his hand down to your wet pussy.

Joe wasted no time in latching his mouth onto your center, feeling so close a release already from how strung up your body already was. He alternated between licking and sucking that your mind was spinning. You gripped your hands into his hair, tugging slightly to let him know how close to the edge you were.

Right as you were about to fall over it, Joe pulled back and stood to meet your lips in a rough kiss. You groaned in frustration at your lack of climax, irritated at how close yet so far you were from release. When Joe pulled back

“What the hell J, I was so fucking close,” you whined, knowing you sounded like a brat.

“You’ll get there when I let you, if someone was nicer to me this morning then they wouldn’t be left hanging would they,” Joe said as he sauntered off towards the stairs, “I'm gonna hop in the shower. I want you on the bed and ready for me once I’m out and maybe I’ll let you cum if you behave.”

You were stunned in your spot for a moment. The time off seems to already be doing wonders for his mood, the downside being that he had time to be just as much of a tease as you were. You hustled up the stairs doing exactly what he asked. You were glad that your body was relaxed, not sure if Joe would be using that to his advantage. You could get used to disconnected Joe.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #nfl #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow fan fic #girlfriend reader #burrow darling offline series

289 notes · View notes