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rynfiles · 11 months ago

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mommy kissing santa claus ? oh goodness !

✎ᝰ — your adorable children catches you and your husband sneaking kisses from one another, except that they see santa claus and not your actual husband

★ — gojo, toji, geto x fem!reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff & very suggestive + allusion to sex from previous night in geto’s (nothing explained/nothing in detail)

★ — a/n: thank you to my pookie kai for your help (@strawhatkia) and dedicated to my tia baeeee <3 (@tiathecreator)

꒰ SATORU GOJO ꒱

°❆ christmas day lingers quicker and quicker and midnight is close to striking, but of course, you and your husband are wrapping gifts very last minute. there would be a great explanation to this but there isn’t, both of your work schedules and the children's school schedules, made it barely possible to wrap gifts. which leads to the two of you rapidly, and terribly, wrapping gifts as your twin children sleep.

but, to make the night slightly more festive, gojo decided to dress up as santa claus. he bought two sets, one as pajamas and one for the morning as everyone unwrapped their gifts. he thought it would excite the children for the festive holiday. you laughed at his frivolous idea and immediately he pulled out a mrs. claus outfit….oh gosh. you laughed at the suit, you rejected the outfit and continued wrapping, ignoring his pleas as it got worse and worse.

gojo dressed up with the beard and santa hat, trying to convince you that dressing up is a wonderful idea and the kids would love it. though in your mind, you’re thinking of wondering how to tell this white-haired man that he looks like a creep and not santa claus, but you wouldn’t hurt his precious little heart like that. instead, you continued to wrap the remaining gifts, until you felt a sudden heaviness on your chest. heaviness that could be described as your brawny, whiny, six-foot-four husband still pleading with you to dress up with him. his usual gleeful blue eyes become doe-y, now giving away the desperation that gojo is never ashamed of.

you laugh at his desperation and ask him to get off but of course, he refuses. he hugs you and traps you in a tight space, you trying to squirm out of his hold and him hovering you. it also doesn’t make it better that his doe-y look turned into a sense of mischief, you raised your eyebrow at his look, and he simply shrugged at it. you two stared at each other until gojo’s lips formed a smirk and placed a sensual kiss on you. you opened your mouth to object to the kiss but instead, he placed another one and another…and another. he continued to kiss you until you kissed back, light noises made as both of your hands traveled. the kiss continued and distracted both of you from the gift wrapping and the fact that the twins had woken up from their sleep.

your bedroom door opens widely, but of course, you and gojo hadn’t noticed, and both of them yelled, “santa?!”. your child’s voice startled both of you and gojo immediately fell off of you and almost until the gifts. you elbowed him to get the gifts out of their sight, he grabbed the nearest blanket and threw it on top of their gifts. you asked your children why they couldn’t sleep and they answered back why you were kissing thee santa claus, the big dude with a sack of gifts. why is santa kissing their mom and not their dad? this is nuts, insane, crazy to even think about!

while the kids were trying to lecture you on how much dad loves you and how you’re such a bad person to dad, you looked to gojo and gojo burst into laughter, you followed along and laughed as well. both kids looked at each other with confusion and hurt on their faces. gojo patted the space between the two of you and told them to sit there as he explained a (terribly) exaggerated story on how their dad is the real santa claus, that’s why he’s extra busy during the month of december. he even took off the beard and hat to prove that’s it their giddy father and not the man in red with a bunch of elves. both children were confused and continued to ask questions, one of them didn’t believe him and still pointed to you as a cheater. you shook your head and added fictional events to gojo’s story, no matter how exaggerated it sounded aloud.

꒰ SUGURU GETO ꒱

°❆ christmas springs upon the morning, and you only know this because both of the young girls, nanako and mimiko, are banging at the door. you and geto groan and try to ignore it, if only the girls didn’t start fiddling with the door, and that startled the both of you. particularly ‘cause the aftermath of last night was still present, since the both of you weren’t clothed.

thankfully, yet oddly, you were reminded to tell geto about the santa suit to wear for the morning. now was it a silly idea? most definitely! was for nanako and mimiko? mostly yes, and you needed some type of memory of christmas morning on your phone. you walk over to your closet and shuffle around the boxes of presents until you spotted the big red suit and hat to match. you smiled ever so cunningly to yourself, geto noticed but shrugged his shoulders and went about to brush his teeth. you pulled the suit from behind the presents and showed it geto, proposing to him to wear it for this merry morning. geto being geto, he immediately rejected but that no didn’t stop you from convincing him to wear. did it take a lot of convincing? oh definitely. did it take a lot of “are you guys done yet?” from your two girls? yes…sadly yes.

the only thing that convinced him was that it would bring a lot of glee to his girls and he can’t disappoint his girls, he just can’t. even if it means sucking up his pride and dressing up as santa claus and pretending to bring the gifts from the north pole. it also helps, not geto though, that you bought a sack similar to santa’s so he could truly be in character.

after some time of getting ready for the morning, as in fussing with geto about the suit and carefully placing the presents into sack, you entered the living room with a smile that is hiding something, but the girls are too focused on their stocking stuffers to notice. they bounce with gleefulness as they open small gifts such as doll clothes, hair accessories, some candy, and other minuscule things they asked for. they continued to bounce around the tree as they tried to peek at what their gifts could be but were forced not to open them until their surprise arrived.

the girls grew tired after some minutes and frequently asked when is their surprise is coming. nanako tried to sneakily open one of her gifts under the tree until the iconic, “ho! ho! ho!”, made it’s way into your home and the girls jumped up from their spot to see santa claus in their home. their jaws dropped and their eyes grew from the sudden appearance of santa claus, the true (fake) santa in their home! you giggled at their amusement and you noticed geto’s mouth growing from annoyed to relaxed as he small childish smiles on his girl’s faces. maybe dressing up as santa wasn’t too bad of an idea for geto, but who is he to tell you that you’re right?

the girls eagerly asked questions as santa geto sat down to give their gifts, he tried to answer to the best of his abilities or at least give believable answers for them. mimiko questioned him on why santa’s hair looked similar to their father’s and he immediately answered with hair dye and extensions. you smiled to yourself at the beautiful, and playful, sight of the girls enjoying geto as santa claus, you took many pictures on your phone while they weren’t looking.

though, geto caught you mid-click and pulled you onto his lap. he peppered kisses all over your face and gave you “your gift”, an enduring and sweet kiss to say “I love you”. though, maybe nanako and mimiko shouldn’t have been present to witness that cause immediate yelling came from the both of them. they mostly yelled at geto and asked him why he kissed their mother, he’s supposed to be married to mrs. claus! he shouldn’t have his lips on their mother and their mom shouldn’t like that, their father would be furious!

you and geto smiled at their lecture, you giggled to yourself and geto pulled off his costume, reavealing to them that he is santa claus. mimiko tried to say that she always knew from the hair but the both of you knew that was a lie.

꒰ TOJI FUSHIGURO ꒱

°❆ a clink goes and laughter fills the living room, just as much as it is with red and white, and the typical splatter of different colors from megumi and tsumiki, love and peace decorate it as well. two bottles of wine sat at the dresser, one already halfway done as you and toji chatted (and drank) away for christmas eve. but as the wine bottle becomes empty, the space between you two becomes closer. then again, he has been gone for a whole month and a half, it’s only right to feel this way with him.

it’s only right to feel this way of yearning from his absence, which explains why his arm slyly brings your lower body closer to him. it explains why his fingers drag themselves along your thigh, lightly dragging around your stretch marks. it explains why toji brought himself closer to your face, only a mere inch away from your lips interlocking. but instead he brings the idea of dressing as santa claus and mrs. claus for the night? sounds odd, trust it is and the way your head is titled, he knew that it sounded odd to you.

he explains himself further and says that it's only right that you dress up for the holiday season. plus, he’s one hundred percent sure that mrs. claus misses her dead old husband. you still had a look of confusion on your face, toji sighed and went into the closet to change into the costume he had prepared. except when he came out, it was barely anything like the classic look of santa; it was a red thermal top with fur cuffs, barely cropped but can still show a peek of his abs, the top had a bell at the collar, quite small and quite annoying. red thermal pants to match as well and a santa hat (something to keep it classic).

you burst into laughter as you saw the awful outfit he claimed to be dressed as “santa claus”. when in actuality, he looks like an elf on the shelf and you told him that, crying in laughter as toji huffs in embarrassment. he grumbled to himself, saying it was the last time he tried to be “in the merry spirit”. he continued to grumble to himself and you continued to laugh at him, still not over the ridiculous outfit, you gave props for trying, but couldn’t get over it.

granted, his muscle build made it look somewhat attractive but the amount of red on him just threw you in for a loop. it also doesn’t help that the bell jingles every time he moves. his embarrassment grew into frustration, making him throw off the top and your laugh dialed down. the both of you forgot how bashful you can get when toji is topless, due to his absence.

toji noticed, finding amusement at how your laughter was taken back as soon as he removed his shirt. which made him want to tease you just a slight bit; he moved back to the bed and grabbed your hand, moving it to place on his hips. then drags it along his waist, he lets out a small groan when you press your nails onto it.

as both of your hands roamed over each other, the space between your bodies constricted, leaning closer and closer until your lips ghosted over. you both chuckled before kissing one another, a kiss that could be described as loving, enduring, and passionate. but could you blame each other?

well, the only thing to blame is that door wasn’t completely closed and tsumiki happened to pass by. she glanced and continued to the kitchen, but then backtracked to your room. she spotted the red hat and thought to herself, “santa? there’s no way, why is santa in mommy’s room?”. she tip-toed closer to the small crack that your door left and viewed the kiss shared between you and toji. her jaw dropped and she immediately ran, quietly ran, to megumi’s room to wake him up. megumi grumbled to her to let him sleep, yet tsumiki insisted that she saw her mom kissing santa claus. she saw it with her own two eyes!

megumi didn’t believe her and tried to ignore her but he knew that wouldn’t work, therefore getting up from his bed and treading towards your bedroom. he didn’t even bother knocking and opening the door, immediately wishing he didn’t from the way his parents were on each other. thankfully, you both were clothed and didn’t do anything…yet.

toji scolded megumi for not knocking on the door and megumi rolled his eyes. megumi turned over to tsumiki and pointed out to her that santa claus was just their dad in a santa hat, it wasn’t the actual santa eating their mom’s mouth. tsumiki felt naive for falling for something so obvious but she can admit that she was a bit spooked that santa looked much too similar to toji. she even commented on how toji’s back looks sharp like rocks while santa’s doesn’t, that only made toji confused and you and megumi laughing at the comment.

toji came closer to tsumiki and started to chase her around the house, yelling how she’s gonna coal for christmas for peeking into her parent’s bedroom. you and megumi shook your heads but was amused at this family’s dynamic.

★ I tried so hard not to make toji’s include smut, yall please- like it’s so hard not making this whore when it’s literally canon that he is

★ would yall believe me if i said toji’s was the longest 🧍🏽‍♀️…?

★ lemme know which one was yall fav <3

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theheartbreakprincesss · 8 months ago

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red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

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laurenairay · 8 months ago

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every breath, every hour has come to this - S. Jarvis

Summary: Seth Jarvis was your best friend, your rock, your protector…but could he ever be anything more?

This is my entry for @callsign-denmark’s Luck of the Puck fic exchange! I’ve written a Seth Jarvis story for @mp0625, and I really hope you like this – it’s my first time writing for him and I had a lot of fun with it! Thanks for providing some really great prompts for me to work with.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: some bad language, hurt/comfort, alcohol, terrible date, I fudged the Canes’ game schedule.

Title from: A thousand years, Christina Perri

For as long as you could remember, Seth had always been in your life. Two peas in a pod, two goofy little kids, always attached at the hip. Even as hockey became more and more of a fixture in his life, you were right there in the stands, cheering him on at the top of your lungs as his biggest fan. You were his staunchest supporter, always giving him reassurance when his self-confidence cracked or faltered. He was your loyal protector, pushing away anyone that was ever mean to you, including shitty boyfriends. Everyone knew in your small suburb in Winnipeg that where one of you went, the other was sure to follow.

So it was exactly no surprise to your parents (and his) when you followed him down to Raleigh the moment his entry level contract was signed.

You didn’t know what you would do without his energetic personality lighting up your day, the ultimate hype-man even before dates that both of you knew weren’t going to end well, or his sweet smiles in a terrible morning after a fantastic night out with his team. You didn’t know what you would do without his built arms wrapped around you on the sofa while you watched awful reality tv or cheesy movies, broad shoulders perfectly places to rest your head on, and especially waking up after a shared nap together, cementing his self-proclaimed King of Naps title.

Or seeing him wake up from a nap by himself, and his whole face lighting up when he saw you there too.

For as long as you could remember, you’d been in love with Seth, and there was nothing you could do about it. You’d seen the girls Seth went on dates with, and they were nothing like you. Even when the two of you were going on your first dates when you were barely teenagers, his ‘type’ seemed to be the complete opposite of you – so you’d always endeavoured to make sure the guys you dated were the opposite of him. It was the only way to preserve your heart, to keep your incredible friendship with Seth as wholesome and solid as you needed it to be, and not once had you ever messed that up.

Seth Jarvis was the best person in your life and you never wanted that to change. Not for anything. That didn’t mean that you didn’t know how hard your life was going to be when he eventually found his soulmate – but that was a problem for future you, and you refused to do anything but live in the moment.

Speaking of living in the moment…

“Hey Seth, do these shoes go with this dress?”

Living with your best friend really did have its perks – you could always guarantee an honest opinion on your outfit from him.

“Hmm, you can’t go wrong with a little black dress and nice black heels, but where is he taking you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Well yeah, you like those shoes and I know you don’t want them to get ruined by a sticky floor,” Seth pointed out.

He really did know you so well.

“He said he’s taking me out to dinner, but he didn’t tell me where or what the venue was like,” you admitted.

You ignored Seth rolling his eyes.

“The dress is gorgeous but I would change your shoes if you aren’t sure. Maybe those black ankle boots? Not too casual but not too fancy,” Seth suggested.

Incredible.

“You are amazing,” you grinned, jogging back to your room to kick your shoes off.

“And don’t you forget it!”

You just laughed at his shout across the apartment, pulling on the ankle boots he suggested. Just as you thought, he was right. With a swipe of lipgloss, you were ready, so you grabbed your leather jacket and headed back out of your room.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah Seth?” you asked, spinning on your heel.

“Have fun tonight. You look amazing – don’t let him forget that,” Seth said seriously, making you laugh, “And if you need anything, anything at all, call me.”

“You’re going to be my knight in shining armour?” you teased.

“With a guy you don’t know taking you out for a first date on St Patrick’s Day? Absolutely,” Seth mused.

Well you couldn’t fault him there.

“Wish me luck!”

“Luck.”

If only you’d know just how right Seth would be.

“Seth?” you whimpered, hiccupping into your phone.

“Woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I know it’s only been three hours, but can you pick me up?” you pleaded.

“Of course, I’ll leave right now. Three hours or three minutes, it doesn’t matter. Send me your location pin, but stay on the line?”

You just sniffed, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see you, doing as he asked.

“Okay, I have it. That’s a real shitty bar, sweetheart.”

You choked out a sob. He had no idea. “Real shitty date too.”

“What did he do?”

You could hear him running out of your shared apartment, down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator, and your heart ached with how willingly he dropped his peaceful evening just to help you.

“He lied about taking me out to dinner. Instead he took me to a bar where a bunch of his friends were, and when I asked him why he lied he told me he wanted to celebrate St Patrick’s Day with his buddies and thought I could come along. Which, fine, okay, he thought I would get on with his friends, so I went along with it. Most of his friends were fine, welcoming even, but they were getting drunker and rowdier and I don’t mind that if I’m with people I know and trust like you or your friends, but with strangers? No way. And then he…”

You trailed off, groaning at the memory, Seth just cursing under his breath. You could hear him driving, not even caring for once that he was probably breaking the speed limit. You just wanted him here.

“What did he do?”

“He started getting handsy. Slapping my ass, pulling me into his body with an arm around my waist, all of that shit, making his friends laugh even though it was obvious I was uncomfortable. But then he grabbed at my boobs and-”

“He fucking what?”

Over all the years of Seth protecting you from nasty dates and boyfriends, you’d never heard him so angry. Never.

“He groped me, in front of everyone. But I shoved him away immediately, I swear!” you insisted.

“Hey, I believe you sweetheart. I know that stuff makes you uncomfortable. I swear I’m going to kill him, I’ll-”

“No, no, I don’t want you to get in trouble, okay? I left the bar already,” you said firmly.

“You left the bar? But your location says…”

“I’m outside the bar, still in eyesight of the bouncer just in case, but I’m outside. I walked out the bar because I couldn’t stand to be near him after him threw the remainder of his beer at me for rejecting him.”

“He fucking what?!”

Okay, that was the angriest you’d ever heard him.

“Told you he was a shitty date,” you mumbled, sniffing again as your eyes stung with tears once more.

“This is not your fault. He was an absolute asshole and none of this is on you.”

“Just my luck, right?” you said, huffing out a bitter laugh.

Seth just cursed under his breath again, continuing to mutter about how men were shit and you deserved better and all the things that usually would put such a smile on your face…but right now it just made you want to be home, safe with him, curled up in his arms. Nothing felt better than being with Seth and it was only because of the few drinks that you had that you allowed yourself to think like this. Thankfully, it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes before you saw a familiar car screeching into the parking lot, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

He pulled to a stop only metres away from you, and you wasted no time in walking over to him, even as he got out of the car and slammed his door shut, jogging over to meet you halfway.

“Shit, sweetheart, look at you,” Seth scowled.

You groaned softly as he took in your blurred mascara and beer-soaked top, and grabbed his hand to break his attention.

“Can we just go? I want to get as far away from here as possible.”

You rested a hand on his chest, gently guiding him backwards towards his car, out of earshot of the bouncer and anyone else who deigned to leave, Seth’s fuming expression never leaving the dive bar you were walking away from.

“Is he still inside? Is that asshole still in there?” Seth demanded.

“Hey, no, come on, leave it. He’s not worth it,” you pleaded.

“He doesn’t get to treat you like that and get away with it. No-one gets to treat you like that, you hear me? No-one.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your body thrummed with heat at his furious words, his eyes wild in a way you’d only ever seen on the ice. His fists were clenched, his nostrils were flared, and his shoulders were squared, all the while his cheeks flushing with anger as well. It was only the brief flash of desperation across his face that let you know he wasn’t mad at you – no, this was Seth’s protective side coming out in full force, dialled up to 1000.

“Seth, I…”

You trailed off, running a hand through your hair as you struggled to find words to defend yourself, relying in his car to lean against and keep you upright. He might not have been mad at you, but it still didn’t feel good to know that your situation was making him react like this.

“It’s not like I go out of my way to date assholes,” you eventually managed, “they just seem to find me.”

“Shit, sweetheart, I’m not accusing you of anything. I just…”

He cut himself off, seeming to need a moment to think, and you waited silently for him to give you something. Anything. Eventually he cleared his throat, the wildness in his eyes replaced by an anguish that made your heart ache.

“I can’t take it anymore. I just wish you’d see what you could have, right in front of you.”

What?

What was he talking about?

Right in front of you?

The more seconds the silence stretched on, the more your confused thoughts swirled and the more frustrated Seth looked, until he groaned in frustration.

“I’m talking about me,” he said through gritted teeth, looking like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“You?” you repeated, your voice cracking.

“Yeah and now I wish I’d never said a damn thing so can we please pretend that you’re really drunk instead of tipsy, and never talk about it again?” Seth muttered, avoiding your eyes.

As all of his words started to sink in, you found yourself shaking your head as decades-buried hope dared to surface.

“You’ve never said anything at all! You like me?” you said, needing him to say it again.

Seth huffed out a laugh, still not looking particularly comfortable.

“How could I say anything? I’m nothing like any of the guys you’ve ever dated,” he muttered.

“Because I purposely date guys that are nothing like you!” you shot back.

“What?”

You groaned as embarrassed heat filled your cheeks, turning your head away to give you a chance to save a scrap of dignity, but then Seth’s hand was cupping your face, gently turning you back to look at him properly. Never had he touched you like this, so delicately and with such purpose. His eyes were a storm, barely giving you anything to go on outside of the intensity, and it was all you could do to let out a shaky breath as he dropped his hand but stepped a little closer.

“I’m going to need you to give me a bit more than that, sweetheart,” Seth said, barely more than a murmur, edge of his voice a little rough, “What do you mean?”

“I purposely date guys that are nothing like you…because you’ve had my heart for longer than I care to remember. I never thought you could ever be interested in me because of the girls you date, and the thought of dating someone even a little bit similar to you was heartbreaking, so I just…went for the complete opposite. Clearly it’s been working out really well,” you said, choking off a bitter laugh as you finished.

Seth’s lips parted in surprise, and for once he was stunned into silence. It was only the fact that he hadn’t moved to step away that saved you from wanting to curl into a ball on the cold ground. Still, that didn’t stop the anguish from building inside of you like a volcano ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Eventually he let out a shaky breath, smiling weakly.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” he said softly, shaking his head.

What?

“We…have?” you asked, still in disbelief.

“We have.” Seth nodded, smiling at you in a way that encouraged you to finally smile back at him, giddy without being able to stop yourself, “You’re my goddamned soulmate, how could I ever want anyone but you? And knowing now that you’ve felt the same way all this time? It’s everything. I wish I could say I’ve been playing the long game but honestly I never thought you’d ever want me back. But we need to put a pin in this conversation until tomorrow.”

What? Why?

You didn’t know what was showing on your face but it made Seth laugh – a little deliriously, maybe, but a bright laugh that you were so used to all the same.

“You’ve been drinking, sweetheart. You’ve literally just ended a bad date covered in beer, as well as had quite an emotional night,” Seth explained.

“That still won’t change how I feel about you in the morning,” you pointed out.

His smile turned a little bashful, but definitely pleased, making the butterflies in your stomach riot.

“Then I look forward to hearing you say it again tomorrow. Just…let me take you home? Away from this gritty old bar parking lot?”

You nodded without hesitation, making him huff out a laugh again but take your hands.

“Take me home, Seth,” you murmured, squeezing his hands, barely able to believe the words coming out of your mouth.

With Seth’s wide grin, it looked like he could barely believe it either.

“We’re going to be amazing, you just wait.”

#my writing #seth jarvis fic #luck of the puck exchange #seth jarvis fanfic #seth jarvis imagine #carolina hurricanes fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic

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wobblesthecowgirl · 6 months ago

Note

hiii🫶🏼

what would be your hc of the guys and their favorite thing about you (reader), or, what they unconsciously look for in a parter/relationship?

Rdr2 Men and what they love about you!

Thank you for the request! If anyone else wants to send ideas for me to write, 'Ask Away Partner!' Is where you can submit them!

I hope I met your expectations!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Arthur: The thing he adores most about you is how genuinely nice you are. You will help strangers who need it, look after stray cats, and listen to the gang member's problems. He just can't understand how someone so loving could want to be around him. He also believes that he is too bad for you to associate with, and that makes him feel guilty for even wanting you to be his.

Sean: Surprisingly, it's how blunt and stern you are. You will tell people how it is without beating around the bush, tell people off when they need to be, and take a lot of situations seriously. A leader; a strong willed woman. He likes this because when he gets you to laugh loudly, joke around and be playful, it's a big accomplishment for him. It makes him feel on top of the world, because he made you laugh.

Dutch: He loves how good you are at listening. Whenever he's had a plan that's gone bust, or just a terrible day in general, being able to come back and just let it all out. You will sit and nod, agree with what he's saying and console him, occasionally offering solutions which may help. He can't help but smile at your willingness to try to help and be there for him.

John: He loves a feisty woman. He may act like he doesn't like butting heads, but deep down he loves it. The way he can tease and jab at you, and you'll respond with even harsher jabs, sometimes a gentle slap to warn him that he's taking it too far, makes him grin like crazy. Keeps him on his toes, and majority of the time, it keeps him in check.

Jaiver: How you try to learn Spanish so you can sing along with him. He will just be singing by the campfire and he can hear you humming softly by his side with your eyes closed, and it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. Then one day, you tried speaking Spanish and he got so giddy and tried to help your pronunciation. He also wants to be able to talk crap about gang member's with you while sitting right next to them.

Charles: How you look after everyone in the gang. You learned how to sew wounds, help colds, and the herbs that aid with that; simply because you wanted to help people. The way you are soft with everyone, very calm talking, and well spoken makes him smile while he watches you converse with others.

Lenny: How you love to write and read. You get embarrassed when someone asks to read what you're writing, so he has sneakily gone through the pages, and loved how amazing your imagination is. He also asks you to read to him, finding your voice relaxing while he does basic tasks. If you're lucky, you'll take turns reading together.

Hosea: He loves how you can easily talk your way out of a situation. Your smart wits can get you out of any predicament, and they're always a hoot to watch. He loves to tell people around the campfire all the crazy adventures himself and you have gotten into because you talked yourself into them. He will suggest plans to Dutch so that he can see it unfold again and again.

Kieran: Your cooking skills make him want to cry every time; he thanks the heavens he gets to eat the food you make. Growing up, he always got plain or little things to eat, so when you heard that, you made sure to cook everything under the sun to make sure he was well fed. His eyes widen at every single plate you offer, he holds your hands and thanks you repeadtly, and smiles widely while eating the whole thing.

Josiah: It has to be your fashion sense. The way you can make any outfit look good blows him away, and he loves the little details you add. He makes sure to compliment you every time, "you look absolutely beautiful, my dear". He will also take you to the tailors himself just so he can watch your mind at work. It's an honor for him to have the chance to show you off in your outfits.

#rdr2 fandom #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 headcanons #sean macguire #rdr2 javier #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #charles rdr2 #dutch van der linde #josiah trelawny #john marston

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separatist-apologist · 6 months ago

Text

Hot To Go

Summary: During Nesta's bachelor party, everyone agrees to pick out an embarrassing shirt for someone else. Emerie is game to play along until she realizes her long-standing crush Morrigan will be at the same bar.

Good thing Mor has a sense of humor.

For @ablogofsapphicpanic | Read on AO3

Thank you @octobers-veryown for the last minute moodboard

Fic based on this tiktok

“Nesta, please,” Emerie complained, holding the tissue papered bag sitting in her lap. “We don’t have—”

“Open it,” Nesta interrupted, crowned queen of the weekend by a plastic silver tiara. A white sash crossed her body with the words BRIDE-TO-BE stamped across it in purple lettering. Nesta wanted a different kind of bachelorette party—one where they spent the majority of their long weekend indoors watching movies and reading books. There was a pool out back they’d spent the morning lounging beside but tonight Emerie Archeron had convinced her older sister that they should go to the bar just once.

And then meddlesome, annoying, stupid Elain had made the worst suggestion Emerie had ever heard. What if we picked out bad shirts for each other? What if Emerie slapped her across the face, what then? Nesta would be pissed and Elain would cry, that's what would happen. Emerie didn’t want to go to the bar where she’d be surrounded by men in too tight t-shirts and hair gelled to the heavens. And she certainly didn’t want to spend the night pulling those same drunk losers off her friends only to get called a whole host of slurs she didn’t care to repeat.

Their husbands and boyfriends will kill you for fun, I’m doing you a favor.

If only you could casually mention that to strangers. As if those pathetic dudes would listen. Emerie would have to call up Azriel again, and Azriel’s general demeanor would destroy the vibe she had spent so much time cultivating. Even when he was incandescently happy he was brooding. Gwyn would spend all her time sitting in his lap while Nesta, Emerie, and Elain all blushed furiously every time he spoke, as if there was anything terribly special about him. Objectively, she supposed he was handsome but so what? A lot of men were.

Emerie was the last person at the table. With reluctance, she pulled out the glittery pink paper that had clearly been put together by Elain. It was simply too pretty to have been done by anyone else.

Unfolding the black material, Emerie groaned when she saw the image printed on the fabric. A brown meatball wearing leather bondage gear stared back at her. Even if she hadn’t understood the pun, the shirt ensure everyone would get the joke thanks to the white lettering that read: Meatball Sub.

Elain clapped her hands together, eyes bright with delight. “I thought that was so funny.” Don’t ruin this, Emerie thought to herself. Meeting the brown eyes of Nesta’s younger sister from across the table, she forced an easy smile on her face.

“It is funny,” she lied. It was stupid. But this was for Nesta, and Emerie loved Nesta more than she hated the shirt. She’d bought so many nice outfits for this trip—tight slacks and even tighter tanktops, bodycon dresses that weren’t her favorite but looked good, paired with tall heels that made her tower over her friends, and even cute little shorts and t-shirts that showed off her body should some hot girl in a bikini be wandering by.

“Lets change and then head out,” Nesta said, cheeks flushed with excitement. Emerie shot a look at Gwyn, who merely shrugged delicate shoulders in response. They were sharing a room in the cabin Emerie’s husband had graciously given up for the next four days—if cabin was even what it could be called. More like massive-beach-house-worth-millions, but Emerie wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was interesting to her the way rich people described their things. This was hardly a cabin and yet to Rhysand, maybe it was. Maybe he considered this slumming it, somehow.

“It’s just a couple hours,” Gwyn reminded Emerie once the door to their shared room was firmly shut.

“I hate these bars,” Emerie complained, flopping onto the twin bed closest to the window. “It’s spring break—they’re crawling with frat douche losers that have never been told no in their lives.”

“You know why she really wants to go, right?” Gwyn asked, pulling her shirt off to put the offensive one overtop.

“If you say Cassian—”

“He’s somewhere around here, and I think she just wants to see him,” Gwyn said with a relish. “He was giving her all that shit about staying in when she should be going wild. Now Nesta can show him she’s having fun his way, too.”

“And what happens when Az catches some loser putting his hands on you?” Emerie asked, rising up on her elbows to look at Gwyn.

“He’ll have to deal with it in an emotionally intelligent way.”

“Is that what he’s calling his fists these days?”

Gwyn grinned. “Just let her have this. One night of embarrassment for a weekend of quiet.”

“Fine.”

Emerie got ready like she would for any other club-like event, putting a full face of make up on and carefully curling her hair to make it look as though she’d come straight from the beach once she finger combed out the waves into messy waves. All that was left was the stupid shirt and a pair of skin tight leggings beneath.

There were never any interesting women at these places. It almost didn’t matter what she looked like, except Emerie took a small amount of satisfaction knowing that when a man inevitably called her an ugly bitch they’d be lying through their teeth.

Gwyn had done even less, slicking on some mascara and tinted chapstick before calling it a day. Of the three of them, these types of places made her the most uncomfortable. She’d go only for Nesta, and was likely only smiling because she believed Azriel was going to be there. Still, Gwyn never tried to accentuate how beautiful she was, nervous of the unwanted attention—as if what had happened to her was her fault.

“Want to stick together?” Emerie asked, noting the way Gwyn’s teal eyes filled with relief.

“Yes,” she breathed, rising to her feet. Emerie tugged at the too-big shirt that fell just beneath the curve of her ass, wishing she was wearing anything else.

“If it starts getting rowdy, we can go somewhere else,” Emerie promised, looping her arm through Gwyn’s.

“I was googling lesbian bars,” Gwyn said with a grin. “There’s one a couple blocks away if you want to…you know…” “Shut up,” Emerie said, elbowing her friend gently in the ribs.

“It’s been a while,” Gwyn pressed on, undaunted by Emerie’s obvious embarrassment. “And I didn’t like the last girl, whatever her name was. Too…”

Emerie sighed. “Unfaithful?”

“That too,” Gwyn said with a scowl.

“I don’t think you meet marriageable women at bars,” Emerie reminded Gwyn, annoyed that Cassian had met Nesta in a college bar and was now marrying her. It had started off a chain reaction in their tiny friend group—Azriel was so obviously just biding his time, waiting for Cassian to get married so he could propose.

And then Emerie would be the only single person among married women. Would they even want to hang out with her anymore? Would they stay friends? It kept her up at night. Emerie knew if she gave voice to these insecurities, her friends would rush to reassure her it wasn’t true and she’d feel no better. She just wasn’t having the same luck in the romance department.

Squeezing into one car, Emerie managed to snag the passenger seat from Elain, who pouted in the back but otherwise said nothing. If nothing else, Emerie considered that a victory even if she was out voted and Taylor Swift blared the entire way to the bar.

“It’s busy,” Nesta said, eyes scanning the line of people waiting to get in.

“Send Elain up,” Emerie suggested, glancing at her older sister.

“In this?” Elain demanded as she held out her comically oversized shirt. “Don’t make me.”

It didn’t matter, ultimately. The bouncer caught sight of Nesta strolling by in heels and waved her in while eyeing her up and down. Nesta pretended she didn’t notice but both Emerie and Emerie did, glaring daggers from just behind her before handing over their ID.

And then they were inside. The music was so loud Emerie could barely hear herself think, teeth rattling in time with the beat. It was her job to elbow through the crowd hanging around the bar and scream everyone's order over the music before doling out drinks while watching the man who made them. Just in case. She didn’t like the way he was open mouthed staring at Elain, who seemed to have the effect on everyone who saw her.

While the rest of the group made their way to the dance floor, Gwyn and Emerie secured the last high top in a pretty secluded corner where the music didn’t seem to be quite so loud and they could talk.

“I’m gonna sit closer,” Gwyn told Emerie, putting her hand over top of Emerie’s as a man began walking toward them. He turned abruptly, realizing he’d have no luck over here which had been Gwyn’s obvious goal if her triumphant smile was anything to go by.

“Oh, look!” she said, pointing across the room. It was, just as Gwyn had predicted, Cassian and Azriel towering over the crowd, unaware that Nesta was a few feet away dancing in a god-awful shirt. As Emerie watched, she found Rhysand holding several drinks in one hand and cutting a path through a crowd that parted like the red sea. She’d have looked away, annoyed by the converging parties had she not noticed who was walking just behind Rhys.

There, in a red dress so tight it might have been painted against tanned skin, stood Morrigan. Emerie was embarrassed by how hot she thought Rhys’s cousin was, and yet… Christ. Her blonde hair cascaded like sunlight down her back and her brown eyes were crowned with gold just around the iris, visible even in the dim lighting of the club. Emerie had never been able to get words out in front of Morrigan, so she just avoided her, embarrassed to be a cliche. The lesbian with a crush on a straight girl—it was a constant theme in her life, especially when she was younger.

She’d asked Nesta about Morrigan once, who’d gone on a rant about Mor sleeping with Lucien’s dad, and Emerie had dropped the subject. There was no love lost between them—apparently Cassian and Mor had a thing a million years ago, too.

Still. She was the most beautiful woman Emerie had ever seen, and it was a shame that beauty would be wasted on some loser that would never really appreciate her.

“Oh, here they come,” Gwyn said, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Cassian had caught sight of her and Gwyn, waving across the crowd as Rhys set drinks down in the booth she bet he’d paid actual money for. He beckoned for the two of them to join.

“Gwyn—”

“Rhys will pay our tab if we go,” she said, silencing any protests Emerie might offer. Rhys did always pay when they were all together and unlike Rhys, Emerie had to work for a living. If he was willing to foot the tab for overpriced drinks filled with more water than cheap vodka, who was she to say no?

They sauntered over, Emerie’s heart racing as Mor’s eyes fell on her. She whispered something to her cousin, who stood and traded places so when she and Gwyn arrived, Mor said, “Em! Sit by me.”

Gwyn was already—and predictably—in Azriel’s lap, whispering something in his ear that made his cheeks darken noticeably. So it was like that then, was it? Emerie plopped down while Rhys shoved at Az so he could edge out space on the end of the booth.

“What are you wearing?” Mor asked, her laugh more like a herald of bells. Emerie was flustered, breathing the same air and unable to take her eyes off Mor’s red painted mouth.

“Oh. Uh…”

“It was Elain’s idea!” Gwyn called from across the table, shooting Emerie a wink they all noticed.

Cassian rolled his eyes when he heard. “No offense, but…Meatball Sub?”

“It’s a pun,” Emerie explained in a deadpan, forgetting about Mor for just a second. Just until Mor scooted, her knee accidentally brushing Emeries. Had she meant to do that? “You know, like a meatball sub sandwich? But it’s wearing a gag, like a—”

“I get the joke!” Cassian snapped, eyes narrowed. Mor tipped her head back and laughed, unaware of how hard Emerie’s heart was beating at the sight.

“Are you sure, Cass?” Mor asked, leaning back against the padded booth so her palm was flat against the seat. Her pinky touched Emerie’s, causing Emerie to jerk her hand back as if she’d been burned. Was that an accident, too? She was terrified to look over and realize she’d read it wrong, and more scared to look over and even more scared to look and find Mor had meant to touch her.

Mor was just friendly, she reminded herself. She was always draped all over Emerie when they were out together. It was nothing—a mere accident.

Cassian scooted his way out to find Nesta, still scowling over at Mor and Emerie.

“So,” Mor said, turning entirely to face Emerie. She pulled her hand from the seat to rest her head against her fist. Eyes wholly focused on Emerie, she continued, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Oh…you know,” Emerie replied, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Nothing interesting.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. C’mon,” she cajoled, her free hand squeezing Emerie’s knee. “I want to hear about it anyway. I feel like we never get to talk and you’re so interesting!”

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—

“You first,” Emerie said, unsure where that came from. Mor grinned as she leaned closer, unaware of how the movement pushed her breasts up toward her neck. Emerie could see from the corner of her eye, though she was trying hard not to actually look.

“Oh, you know. I got dragged along to Cass’s bachelor party,” Mor began, looking around the bar. “This place sucks but if I smile at the bouncer, they let us all in for free.”

“Nesta did the same thing,” Emerie told Mor. “Where are you guys staying?”

She nodded with her head in the direction of the DJ. “ Rhys gave up the cabin so we’re at the resort. It’s pretty nice—I was at the pool all morning before Cass dragged us out here.”

“Same,” Emerie replied with a sigh as she leaned back in the booth. “Now I’m out…in this.”

“Stop,” Mor said as she toyed with Emerie’s sleeve. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s not,” Emerie grumbled, heart racing all over again. Mor was so close and she smelled so good, it was making it hard to think.

“Is…is that something you’re interested in?” Mor asked casually, eyes drifting back to the shirt.

“No!” Emerie hastened to say, embarrassed all over again. “No, nothing like that.”

“So you don’t like being tied up?” Mor pressed, eyes practically burning a hole in Emerie’s skull.

“I…I’m not against it, I guess?” she managed, reaching for her glass to give her mouth something to do.

Mor began twirling a lock of golden hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “What room are you staying in?”

“The upstairs one with the twin beds,” she said quickly. Mor laid her land back against the table and this time Emerie noticed that while the ring and pinkie finger were long and sharp, the middle and pointer were shorter. Blunter.

Emerie looked up at Mor, who was watching her with cat-like intensity. Was she doing this on purpose?

“I have my own room,” she said casually, a sly smile spreading over a truly beautiful face. “That’s the benefit of being the only girl on a guy's trip.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s quiet,” Mor continued, dragging her finger over the condensation that had dripped to the table. “Overlooks the beach.”

Emerie offered a weak smile. “I’m jealous.”

“Want to see it?” Mor asked bluntly, sighing ever so slightly. “I’m bored of this place. Too many drunk guys that think every ass needs to be touched.”

“What about Cass—”

“He won’t care if I’m missing. I was invited out of pity, anyway. I’m sure you know Nesta isn’t my biggest fan.”

Mor was scooting closer, indicating Emerie should get out of the booth. Fishing her phone from her clutch, Emerie sent a quick text to Nesta and Gwyn.

Heading out with Mor for a bit—gonna get some air and talk a bit. Meet you back at the house.

Mor slunk off to tell Rhys, who glanced over at Emerie before saying something that earned a vicious punch to the shoulder. Rhys only grinned, gripping his arm, as Mor made her way back to Emerie.

“All good?”

“All good,” Emerie agreed, still impossibly nervous. They said nothing as they made their way out, fingers brushing each time the crowd surged around them, forcing them closer before they could spring apart again. Mor seemed comfortable with the whole thing and Emerie was jealous. She wanted Mor’s easy confidence.

“I heard you slept with Lucien’s dad,” Emerie blurted out the moment they were out beneath the starry summer sky.

Mor grinned. “Yeah? I did,” she said without embarrassment. “I didn’t know he was Lucien’s dad, in my defense. He was just…some hot guy I thought was interesting.”

“Is that your type, then?”

Mor’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you not know?”

Emerie shook her head no, throat coated with sand.

“I just figured…” Mor shook her head, her smile undimmed. “My type is tall, dark, and gorgeous. Lucien’s dad almost fits the bill…but I prefer women.”

“Oh,” Emerie said, unable to think of anything more clever to say. “I just figured…”

“I’m not opposed to men for a night, but I’d never date one. God, can you imagine?” she said with a laugh.

“No,” Emerie admitted with relief. “I saw Cassian and Azriel’s shared bathroom, I think I’ll pass.”

“I know, right? God, I used to clean it for them when they all shared a dorm room.”

“You’re better than me,” Emerie replied with a shudder. The thought of cleaning their shared bathroom made her want to vomit. She could only imagine how gross it must have looked.

“Cassian got it together when he met Nesta. He knew she wasn’t going to tolerate pee all over the toilet.”

“He’s right,” Emerie agreed with a laugh. “Nesta is immaculate.”

“And you?”

Emerie’s stomach flipped over as Mor’s shoulder brushed hers. “I uh…probably not as much. I keep a lot of plants at my place so it’s…you know…crowded.”

“Plants? Anything else?” Mor asked, eyes burning like the stars overhead.

“I have a cat,” Emerie told her, thinking of her little apartment back in Velaris. “Her name is Mist.”

“Like one of the thirteen,” Mor said knowingly, unaware of how Emerie’s knees shook.

“You like mythology?”

“Not really,” she admitted as they crossed the street toward the large resort just across the way. Palm trees swayed in the wind, breaking up the traffic nicely. “But Cass said you did, so…”

“Why would Cassian tell you that?” Emerie demanded without thinking. “That’s kind of weird.”

Mor’s cheeks flushed orange beneath the artificial lights overhead.

“I asked him what you liked,” she admitted.

“Why?” Emerie, at least, could guess why. She wasn’t that obtuse, after all. Still, she wanted to hear the words leave Mor’s pretty lips, if only to put her mind at ease.

“You’re beautiful,” Mor admitted as Emerie rushed ahead to open the door for her. Mor thought she was beautiful? A breeze could have carried her away. “I just figured Cass blabbed.”

“Nope. He kept it a total secret,” she said, unable to help her grin.

“Oh. Well…that…I just figured you knew and—”

“I have such a crush on you,” Emerie blurted out while Mor pressed the button for the elevator. “When I saw you tonight, and I realized I was wearing this shirt, I just…”

“Stop, I love it,” Mor lied, fingers skimmed the back of Emerie’s elbow. “You look so cute. Besides, I got to ask if you liked being tied up which made it totally worth it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To be your meatball sub?” Emerie joked, heart racing all the same.

“Hardly,” Mor replied with a laugh. “We can do whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted to kiss you?”

Mor sucked in a soft breath. “That would be nice.”

They were in an elevator—this wasn’t how Emerie imagined it. And right then, drinking in the sight of Mor who was nearly as tall as she was even in heels, Emerie thought he might die of want if she didn’t kiss Mor. Stepping closer, all Emerie could think about was how nice Mor smelled. Emerie just needed to know if Mor tasted half as good.

Sliding her fingers into Mor’s unbound hair, Emerie pressed her lips to Mor’s as Mor stepped back, hitting the mirrored wall with a soft, sweet sigh. Hell, she tasted sweeter than Emerie had imagined even as her lipstick smeared across Emerie’s mouth. She wanted to see it stained over her skin, too, proof that they’d been together.

One chaste kiss became two, became a third, until Emerie was practically flush against Mor. She’d forgotten where they were until the doors dinged open and the sound of voices pulled apart. The pair looked behind them to find a couple staring right back, eyes wide.

Emerie wasn’t going to apologize and was grateful when Mor didn’t either. She merely burst into giggles before slipping her hand in Emerie’s and tugging her out.

“Whoops,” Mor whispered, fishing her keycard out of her clutch. “Lost track of things in there.”

“Same,” Emerie agreed, heart thudding. “I uh…look. I really like you. And maybe I should go and just…call you? In the morning?”

“Or,” Mor suggested as she swung the door open wide, “you could stay with me tonight and let me buy you brunch in the morning? You can borrow one of my suits if you want and we could hang out by the pool?”

“I want to take you on a date,” Emerie said firmly, desperate to go inside.

“Okay,” Mor said, still standing in front of the open door. “So do I. Will you come inside, now?”

Emerie nodded, grateful to have gotten that out of the way. She’d sworn she wasn’t doing any more one night stands that ended in hurt feelings. That was especially important for her and Mor given they were going to be seeing so much of each other long after this ended.

Mor’s room was a suite, complete with a living room and a kitchen. The balcony doors were thrown open, allowing salty summer air to flood through the room. Taking her hand, Mor led Emerie down a short hallway to the room she’d obviously been sleeping in—the bed was still unmade. A little succulent sat on a nightstand and the room itself smelled like the candy sweet of Mor’s perfume. Emerie wanted to bury her face in the pillow and inhale deeply.

“You ruined my grand gesture,” Mor told her, closing the door quietly behind them. “Will you be my date to Cass’s wedding?”

The grin that spread across Emerie’s face threatened to split her in half. “Yeah. Of course I will.”

Mor exhaled. “Good. I’ll have the hottest date there.”

Emerie rolled her eyes, cheeks burning all the same. It would be her with the hottest date, but who needed to quibble, truly? Not when Mor was standing right in front of her, chin inclined with so much expectations. There was a bed right behind and if Emerie played her cards right, she’d know exactly how Mor tasted by the end of the night.

Indecision gripped her. Did she just kiss her? Touch her? Push her to the bed and strip her naked before committing Mor’s naked form to memory?

“Get out of your own head,” Mor whispered, sliding her hand around Emerie’s neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to?”

“Maybe,” Emerie admitted, the thought filling her with heat.

This time, Mor took the lead. Slipping out of her heels, Mor had to lift up on her tiptoes in order to meet Emerie’s mouth and Emerie liked the sight of it. Or, maybe she merely liked the sight of Mor’s unabashed desire, a mirror for her own. It felt good to be wanted, especially by a woman Emerie had a crush on.

She could admire her good fortune later. Right then, Mor was tugging her back, falling to the unmade bed behind them with a soft, dreamy sigh. She was so soft and smelled like almonds and cherry, her lips stick from the gloss over her lipstick. Emerie was drunk on the taste of her tongue in her mouth, obsessed with Mor’s soft skin beneath her fingertips. Blonde curls swirled around her head like an angel and when Mor opened her eyes to look, Emerie found her eyes so dark they looked as though they were all iris. Were it not for that familiar ring of gold, she might have been lost.

Mor reached up and brushed a lock of Emerie’s hair behind her ear. “You’re so pretty,” Mor sighed sweetly.

“No, you,” Emerie replied like a petulant school child. Mor laughed and Emerie kissed her again, teeth clashing as they giggled. It took a moment for the silliness to fade back into undiluted desire. Emerie slid to the side of Mor’s body, one leg draped over her hip as she tried to decide what she ought to do.

Mor seemed to notice her indecision or perhaps knew that she was impossibly nervous. “Lay back,” she whispered with sultry eyes. Emerie did as she was told, fingers bunching the white sheets with more nerves. Mor straddled her waist before running a finger over Emerie’s exposed collarbone.

Mor pulled her leggings off, pausing at the shirt for a moment before sliding her fingers beneath the fabric to drag her knuckles over Emerie’s bare skin as she lifted it over her head. Emerie shivered, goosebumps trailing behind Mor’s touch, her desperation to touch and taste every inch of Mor reaching a fever pitch. She did feel a moment of embarrassment when Mor looked down her body, hidden only by an unremarkable bra and a pair of nude panties. If she’d known…

Mor sighed, leaning to kiss Emerie again with more passion before. Emerie felt clumsy and almost embarrassed as she, too, unhooked Mor’s zipper and slid it down, but fair was fair, right? And she wanted to feel Mor’s breasts pressed against her chest, wanted to see if all of her was as smooth as she seemed.

Mor was in a matching lace set and somehow Emerie imagined that was just how she always was. Every bra came with a matching pair of panties, every day was carefully planned. Mor was immaculate in a way Emerie could never hope to emulate, which only made her like Mor more.

“What do you like?” Mor whispered, breath warm against Emerie’s face. “Do you like…?”

“Everything,” Emerie breathed. “All of it.”

“Everything?” Mor asked, amusement sparkling. With a touch, she had Emerie’s bra unhooked and when had she even gotten her hand back there? Mor cocked her head, golden hair spilling over her naked shoulder as she looked at Emerie. “Giving? Receiving?”

“Yeah,” Emerie began, rising up earnestly. “Let me—”

Mor pushed her gently to the bed, shaking her head back and forth. “Me first.”

“What do you like?”

“You,” Mor replied with a grin, unhooking her own bra casually before dropping it off the side of the bed. Emerie felt her brain short circuit, hands moving on their own accord to touch rosy nipples and soft skin. How was Mor real? Surely she was hallucinating and would wake up any moment in some dirty bar bathroom, still dressed in that terrible shirt while Mor continued to ignore her existence.

Emerie got what she wanted, dream or not. Mor leaned down, pressing her breasts against Mor to kiss her again, and again, her tongue stroking Emerie’s with a feverish hunger that left her breathless and desperate. She could have died happy just kissing Mor. They were silk on silk, kissing like they had all the time in the world. Emerie wanted to savor it, to drag the moment out for an eternity.

Mor’s fingers slid down Emerie’s stomach, skimming over hip bones as she asked, “Can I?” “Yes,” Emerie panted, arching her hips just enough to offer full, unbridled permission. Mor removed her plain panties, leaving Emerie laid bare before Mor’s hungry brown eyes. Mor didn’t linger, dragging her lips over Emerie’s bare skin as she settled between Emerie’s parted thighs. Oh, god.

Emerie gasped, tangling her fingers back in Mor’s hair, passion and need rising in her throat. Every little brush of Mors body against her own was a wildfire. Emerie couldn’t stop touching—Mor’s silky hair, her smooth back, the slope of her neck. She needed to map out Mor’s body with her fingertips first, though she wanted to trace each soft curve with her tongue next.

Emerie gathered up Mor’s thick, blonde curls as Mor settled herself against the sheets, peering up for just a moment. Just to confirm, Emerie realized, that she still wanted this. Emerie exhaled a breath and tugged, silent permission to the unasked question.

I’ll die if you don’t, she wanted to say.

“Tell me to stop,” Mor breathed, pushing Emerie’s legs further apart, “if I do something you don’t like.”

Emerie’s brain had stopped entirely. All she knew was Mor between her thighs, her finger slowly exploring the wet expanse of Emerie’s aching, tender flesh. Emerie had expected her to lower her mouth—or maybe she’d hoped, at any rate—but Mor was content merely to watch and touch, drawing forth Emerie’s undeniable arousal. Mor kissed the insides of Emerie’s legs, moving slowly upwards towards the thatch of trimmed curls just above her pussy.

“You’re so pretty,” Mor whispered into the hair, kissing there, too. “I like this.”

Emerie sighed again, relaxing against the pillow. Excitement bloomed hot in her stomach, traveling past her navel like little frissons of electricity. Mor, too, took a steadying breath and Emerie wondered if it was possible the unshakable Mor was nervous, too.

Emerie almost asked, but then Mor’s face was against Emerie, tongue licking and Emerie moaned, the only form of language left to her. Mor exhaled again, her warm breath fanning against Emerie’s overheated pussy. Emerie felt overstimulated already, keyed up and excited. Every fantasy she’d ever had of this exact scenario paled in comparison to the real thing. Every touch was soft and precise, the touch of someone who knew what she was doing and liked doing it. Mor moaned, fingers gripping Emerie’s thighs to push her even wider, until Emerie merely draped them over Mor’s shoulders.

The sight was so erotic that Emerie could have come from that alone. Digging her heels against Mor’s shoulder blades, Emerie whispered soft encouragement.

“That’s perfect,” she hissed as Mor’s tongue lapped at her aching, needy clit. Emerie couldn’t stop staring, wished she had a camera so she could see everything Mor was doing with her mouth, too. Mor, too, seemed transfixed, eyes bouncing between Emerie’s face and what was happening between her legs.

Mor’s eyes occasionally fluttered shut, the sight punctuated by the softest, appreciative moan. It looked as if Mor wanted to savor the taste of Emerie, wanted to drag things out as long as possible. Emerie wanted that, too, desperately counting in her head to stave off the building arousal pooling low against her spine.

Mor’s finger rimmed around her opening, offering the lightest pressure without penetrating. Her tongue stayed firmly on her clit, slowly increasing the speed until Emerie was panting and tugging at Mor’s hair, needy and desperate. She was so close, was practically flying off that edge into nothing.

“Oh God, Mor—” Emerie choked out her release, arching so hard her toes curled and white hot spots bloomed in her vision. Every muscle in her body was taut and she felt nothing, was nothing but the pleasure rolling through her.

Emerie sat up the very first moment she was able, reaching for Mor to put her in her lap, their legs tangled, bodies rocking together and Emerie kissed Mor hungrily. She could taste her own arousal on Mor’s mouth, her tongue chasing after it greedily.

Emerie slid her hand between their bodies, delighted to feel Mor was practically dripping wet.

“You don’t have–”

“Please?” Was all Emerie could think to say. She wanted to reciprocate like she’d never wanted in her life. Mor kissed her again and again, each kiss sliding one to the other until Emerie was dizzy and needy again. Emerie forced herself to focus, repositioning them so it was Mor back against the pillows and Emerie straddling her body.

Emerie could still feel the remnants of that orgasm throbbing through her, prompting her to rub against Mor even as she mimicked everything Mor had done. Feyer was clumsier, too needy to be half as sensual as Mor had been. Still, Mor whined when Emerie reached for a nipple, rolling it between her fingers until it was stiff and rosy red. The same color as Mor’s lipstick stained mouth.

Emerie experimented, grazing her teeth just a little. Mor moaned, eyes rolling upwards in her skull as her body undulated against Emerie’s. It was enough to keep Emerie going, to suck and nip and lick until Mor was practically panting, her tanned skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

Every inch of Mor was a dream—smooth, lush curves were soft beneath Emerie’s wandering hands. She marveled as she slid lower and lower, suddenly eye level with Mor’s glistening, pink pussy.

Fuck she was beautiful.

Emerie stared a beat too long before she couldn’t stop herself from spreading Mor open wider, parting to truly look.

“Is this what you want?” Emerie whispered.

“Please,” came Mor’s trembling reply. That was the confidence Emerie needed to lower her mouth and take that first taste.

It was nothing like she’d imagined and better than she’d ever expected. Her whole body lit up at the musky sweetness of Mor’s body and the way Mor’s thighs trembled around Emerie’s head. Emerie enthusiastically swiped again, licking only for herself in that first moment. Just to know, to become accustomed to the wet, slick, soft feel of Mor’s pussy and how it made her own body feel.

Her arousal sharpened when Mor dragged her long nails over Emerie’s scalp, holding her hair while watching with intensely dark eyes. Emerie focused, thinking of what Mor had done for her. She swirled her tongue over the trembling nub of flesh and was rewarded with a breathy, “Oh God, don’t stop.” As if Emerie could. She replicated what Mor had done with her finger, pushing just against the opening of her pussy and circling, her tongue steady and hot. Mor writhed against her face, coating her in the slick release building in her body. And when Mor came with a breathy cry, Emerie felt it reverberate in her chest.

It was Mor who reached for her this time, dragging her up to lay on her side so they could press their bodies against the other and kiss. Emerie tangled her arms around Mors neck while Mor caressed her face, their combined release erotic in Emerie’s mouth. Nothing had ever tasted better and she found herself wanting Mor again just as soon as she caught her breath.

Mor leaned her arm over the edge of the bed, picking up Emerie’s ugly shirt. “Can I have this?” she asked, mascara smeared just beneath her eyes.

“Why?”

“It smells like you,” Mor said, pressing the fabric against her nose. “And I think it's funny.”

Propping her head up on her fist, Emerie smiled. “Is that all it takes? One bad shirt?”

“What can I say,” Mor replied, pressing a kiss to Emerie’s cheek. “I’m easy.”

Emerie only smiled.

#emorie #morrigan #emerie of illyria #bisexual mor just so you know

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rallentando1011 · 10 months ago

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Hello !（｡>‿‿<｡）

Can you do a one-shot for rise Leo x a crush reader were the reader is in a band as a vocalist and drummer but the thing is *drum roll* the band members wear masks to hide their identity :D but Leo discovers readers identify? (Reader can be fem or gn if you like) :)

It’s You

Rise Leo and Vocalist, Drummer Reader

Word Count: 1718

(I think this concept is really fun and had a good time with it! Thanks for the request! I’ve specified here in my guidelines that I’ll only take expressly romantic requests for Donnie. However, stuff where I can write it through a platonic lens and leave the rest up to the reader’s interpretation (like in this case) absolutely works for me :)) Hope you enjoy!)

A certain form of anticipation is synonymous with a public performance, both for those supplying and those indulging in the entertainment.

Leo definitely feels that anticipation building as he stands in a crowd of rowdy concert-goers, himself included, and waits for the show to begin.

In the meantime, he busies himself with checking his messages, specifically the ones he sent to you.

You told him earlier that you had work and couldn’t accompany him to the concert, which was a bummer, but he sent you a message asking if you wanted to hang out some other time afterwards. Checking his phone only reveals that you still haven’t gotten back to him about it.

Leo pouts and looks up, asking his brothers beside him if they’ve heard from you. It’s sort of odd for you to not see or respond to his messages.

“Maybe they’ve finally come to their senses about you,” Donnie thinks aloud, scrolling on his own phone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Leo quirks his brow bone.

Mikey interjects before hostilities can be exchanged. “What Donnie meant to say is that they said they’re at work and probably not on their phone right now.”

“No, that’s not remotely what I meant. I was implying that- ow, Raph, what was that for?”

Raph crosses his arms, definitely not having just kicked his purple clad brother. “Instigating. Raph doesn’t need any of this younger sibling bickering-”

“Respectfully, everyone shut up!” Leo gasps, staring at the now occupied stage with starstruck eyes as his worries leave his mind. “The show’s starting!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything today has been going terribly awry.

First, you woke up way later than you intended, like, the brink of being late to your band’s gig, barely ate save for a snack or two out the door, and then, the pièce de résistance, you had to turn down Leo’s offer to join him and his brothers watch a band because you are a part of that band.

You saw the text while on the subway to the venue, offering to portal you from your place to grab a slice and watch your band.

With a heavy heart, you messaged him back with a vague excuse about having to work tonight and being busy tomorrow and unable to have a late night. He could probably see right through you and your flimsy reasoning, but you didn’t have time to think about that. You had a job to do, and you’d be darned if you didn’t do it right.

You shut your phone off and all distractions down as you made it out of the subway station, down a few streets, to the back entrance of the locale. Swiftly, you slipped your way in.

You shrugged off the teasing jabs you received from your bandmates about your unpunctuality, opting to just slip into a dressing room.

You pulled on the outfit that you’d packed in your bookbag, slightly more perfunctory than the clothing you wore on the way over, before staring down your mask.

Sure, the days leading up to performances could be rough, but once you put on that mask, it feels like you’re a complete other person, like your day hasn’t been so cruddy. That’s the main reason you had suggested that the band wear their favorite colored masks, the other being that you may have been inspired by certain reptilian friends of yours.

So, you pulled on your mask, concealed your dourness, sleepiness, doubt, everything weighing you down, exited the dressing room, immersed yourself in the fog of the stage with your fellow members.

Now you find yourself seated before your drum set, your microphone, your audience. With your drumsticks in hand and blinding stage lights flooding your vision, you steady yourself with a deep breath and get down to business.

Your foot hits the bass drum pedal on beat, sends a pulse through you, allows you to internalize it like a metronome. The sound waves ring out from the bass in an almost synaesthetic display, bright colors proliferating throughout the room.

Just like that, you are off.

The crash of the cymbals, patter of the tom-toms, diddles on the snare merely feel like extensions of yourself. Any and all performance jitters you felt fade away as you allow yourself to get into the music and have fun.

You can discern the sounds of the bass, guitar, synth layering over the beat you lay down.

Your voice’s timbre cuts through the accompaniment, sounding out over it yet blending seamlessly. The first song rushes by as quickly as the adrenaline rushes through your veins, and when it ceases and you hear the roar of applause from the audience, you know that tonight’s going to be much better than the first half of your day.

As you bask in the positive feedback between songs, a few people in the audience draw your attention. Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and Leo, all seeming to be enjoying themselves and the music. In particular, Leo looks ecstatic, his gaze fixated on you.

You smirk. You have the audience, you have the attention, why not have a little fun with the next few songs?

You kick everything up a notch, improvising paradiddles and harmonies, giving the performance absolutely everything you have left in the tank.

Seeing the wide grin on the turtle’s face and receiving uproarious praise, though, makes it all worth it.

The concert ends far sooner than you would have preferred. Guess it was true that time flies when you’re having fun.

With one final crash of the cymbals and a bow, you make your way off the stage, behind the curtains, on top of some miscellaneous crates as you throw down your sweat soaked mask and guzzle down as much cool water as you can.

Out in the audience, a flow of outgoing people trudges their way out, save for the four turtle brothers.

“Did you see that guitar? The design was so cool, and blue! I wonder how much they’d want for it. And the drummer! They were wicked!” Leo gushes.

His brothers just nod along with a few ‘yeah’s, having heard Leo pour over the same things for multiple minutes now.

The red-eared slider ceases his yapping as he looks at the stage, eyes going wide as he gets an idea.

“I’m sure they won’t mind if I just pop on back to say hi real quick and maybe get an autograph, okayseeyouatthelairlaterbyeee-!”

Before his brothers can get a word in, Leo uses his ninpō to form a portal and hop into the dim backstage area.

He looks around for a moment, only able to see the outline of the curtain and a few boxes while his eyes are adjusting to the low light.

Then, he sees one of the performers from the stage a few feet away from him, laying on some crates. The drummer, based on their height. He can’t base it off of their mask or their looks since they were facing the other direction.

“I can feel you staring at me.”

He freezes. He’s supposed to be a ninja; were his stealth skills so bad that someone could sense him that easily?

“Come on. You know how it worked out last time you tried to scare me after a gig. Spare yourself the bruised nose; you know I’m not good with scares,” you call behind you to whom you assume to be the band’s bassist, who has a habit of trying to spook everyone else.

He stays frozen.

You huff, push yourself off of your seat of crates, turn around. “Look, cut the sh- oh.”

It isn’t your bandmate behind you. It’s Leo, slack jawed and flabbergasted and completely still.

“Oh my- you are not supposed to be here- why are you here?” you ask, incredulous, as you slap your hands over your face.

Leo takes another silent moment before a high pitched squeal emits from his throat.

“Whaaaaat?! ¡No manches! This has been your ‘job’ the whole time?!” Leo laughs and puts a hand on his forehead.

“Yep, it’s me,” you grumble, pinch the bridge of your nose. There’s no way this is really happening.

“That’s- You’re so cool!” He clicks his tongue as if contemplating something. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You blink at him. That’s a question you’ve asked yourself many a time, though you’ve never settled on a definitive answer.

“I think it’s something about it being a mystery, a little piece of myself that no one else gets to know about outside of my bandmates. Not exactly escapism, but close.”

“So that’s the reason for the mask?” He taps his own.

“Sort of.” You hum in thought, think about if you should tell him where you got the idea from.

Does he need the ego boost? Definitely not.

Will you still give him it? Sure, why not?

“You know, the design was inspired by you,” you admit, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Really?!”

“Well, you and your brothers, to be more specific.”

“Nope, no need to be specific. You can just continue on with how big of an inspiration I am.”

You snicker at his display of cockiness before sobering up.

“Just- please don’t tell anyone else that I’m in this band, that this is me.”

“Indubitably, my accomplice.” Indubitably. He always says that word when he lies, and you always call his bluff.

“No, no, I’m serious about this…” You pause, glance to the side for a moment. “I’ll give you VIP passes to all of our shows if you promise not to blab about this.”

“Deal!” He immediately puts out his hand for a shake. “Wait! VIP passes, and you let me take you for pizza tonight if you’re free, then we have a deal.”

“Did you and the guys not go for pizza earlier?” you pressed.

“We did, but we both know that I’m not above having pizza multiple times in the same day,” he winks.

“Fine. Deal.” You place your hand in his tridactyl one, give it a firm shake, then get ready to grab a slice.

It’s safe to say that you have pizza after quite a few gigs after that. It’s duly safe to say that you have one consistent, quite possibly your biggest fan at every single performance from then on.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise season 3 #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #save rise of the turtles #unpause rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt x reader #oneshot #request #leo x reader #ish

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nomoreusername · 1 year ago

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Better

⚠️ Eating Disorders ⚠️

Pairing:Minho x gender neutral reader

Summary:When Minho realizes you're struggling with an eating disorder he encourages you to get help.

Let's get one thing straight. I don't have a problem. I simply noticed that I seem to have been slower whenever I go running lately. So I decided to fix the problem by putting myself on a strict diet. Thankfully, I know people in the Glade. I switch around who I give my dinner to, and nobody ever has a second thought about it.

From there things kind of escalated. I became obsessed with seeing myself grow thinner. Each time my clothes felt baggier there was this sense of pride. It got to the point where if something did fit me I'd feel shame. Then, there became the point where the clothes not fitting wasn't good enough for me. I would look at my body and see nothing but flaws. Suddenly, I was thankful we didn't own mirrors so I couldn't see any others.

Things somehow managed to get worse. What was once a simple diet so I could run faster seemed to be slowing me down. Except, it could be something else. What if I was actually gaining weight?

That's when another idea came to mind. Every time my time slowed I would punish myself by running extra hard. When everyone was in bed I'd be running laps around the Glade. Yesterday it was so bad I made myself stay up all night sprinting, doing pushups, and basically any accessible exercise.

I really wish I would have thought of how that might slow me down in the maze itself. I knew I was doing terrible because my partner today was Minho who was doing this like it was nothing. I used to run like this before what was supposed to be a diet took over my life.

"Uh, you okay?"He asked.

"Mhm,"I lied, my legs threatening to give out from under me.

"You're breathing pretty heavy. You look five seconds away from passing out."

"I'm fine,"I repeated as the stitch in my side grew. I really wanted water, but I wasn't doing good enough to earn any.

"Okay. Hey, we should probably stop for lunch,"He suggested, looking at his watch. I felt a thousand nerves run through my body. I don't know how many times I can use the 'I forgot it' excuse.

"Sure,"I pretended to agree, sitting against the wall. Then, I faked looking in my bag before putting it up.

"Are you not going to eat?"He asked skeptically.

"I forget it,"I shrugged, being way too used to lying for my comfort. I had to though. They wouldn't understand and would just blow it out of proportion.

"I thought you'd say that,"He sighed, before reaching for something. Before I could ask what he was doing he pulled out a bag. To be more specific it was my lunch bag with my name. He shook his head as he tossed the empty bag at me.

"You haven't asked for a lunch,"He accused. It was true, but I still shook my head no. "You give away your dinner,"He kept going. I stared at the ground wondering how to get out of this. "You didn't eat anything for breakfast,"He listed. "You've lost so much weight you have to wear a belt with every outfit,"He continued. "And you've been the one running around the Glade at night,"He finished. I couldn't make myself look at him as I kept staring at the ground. I could feel his eyes burning into my soul.

"Those are all true, aren't they?"He asked.

"It's sort of an exaggeration,"I said quietly.

"When's the last time you've eaten?"

"Last ni-"

"Nice try. Winston had an extra. Try again."

"Yesterd-"

"You left your lunch as you ran, and you left before breakfast. Try again. When's the last time you've eaten?"

"Three days ago,"I muttered, my voice almost a whisper.

"When?"He asked again, not having heard me the first time.

"Three days ago,"I admitted loud enough for him to hear. By now I closed my eyes because even the ground seemed to be judging me.

"Why?"He questioned. There were a lot of reasons, but I didn't say anything. I wasn't planning on doing so anytime soon.

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep on going. Not metaphorically. You are literally going to make yourself shut down. Even worse, you're a Runner. What happens if one day you pass out or don't make it out of these walls in time?"

"I'm a Runner,"I repeated.

"Yeah. That's what I said."

"I'm a Runner, and Runners are fast. They're strong. They don't get tired. I wasn't doing that so I tried a diet,"I confessed.

"A diet? Last time I checked a diet doesn't mean starving yourself. It's not staying up all night so you can collapse from exhaustion the next day. It's not punishing yourself because you don't think you're doing something good enough. If it was a diet you wouldn't have sat there and lied to me."

"I said I tried a diet. It got a little out of hand, and now I can't go back."

"What do you mean you can't go back?"

"I can't just go back to eating normally. I'll just be disgusted with myself. I don't want to feel gross when I look at myself."

"Y/N, you are going to die if you keep this up. Do you understand? You are killing yourself. If you pass out here someone may not be with you that day to get you out. Then, you're stuck here all night with the Greivers. The Greivers are going to kill you, and everyone's going to be asking 'Where's Y/N? Why isn't she back?' The doors are going to close, and it's over. Because if someone notices too late to run in here you are screwed. You're totally shucked. You're going to be dead or you're going to get stung, and we'll have to banish you, and I don't want to banish you. I don't want to have to push you through these doors, and I don't want to run across a pool of your blood,"He said in one breath.

I looked over and for only the second time in my life saw Minho cry. That had been when he pulled Newt out of the maze. Crying wasn't something he did, at least in front of others. Now he was sitting beside me with a tear streaked face, and I didn't know what to do.

"I don't know how to stop. I want to, but I don't know how. I've been doing this for so long that it seems impossible to go back to how I was,"I admitted, my own silent tears falling down my face. I hadn't realized I even wanted to until I said it out loud. I didn't even realize how much of a problem it was.

"I think we should head back for today. Drink up,"He directed.

"Alby's going to be pissed,"I pointed out.

"It's not safe for you to be here right now. I'm sure he'd understand."

"I don't want to tell Alby,"I mumbled.

"Then, don't, but you're not running anymore today. You need to eat and catch up on sleep."

"This is going to be hard to do,"I uttered. "It is, but you won't be doing it alone. I'm going to be right beside you,"He promised.

"Even if it takes a while?"

"Even if it takes forever. Come on. Are you ready to go?"He asked, holding his hand out. I looked at him before taking it.

"Yeah. I'm ready to get some help."

#the maze runner #minho x reader #minho oneshot #tmr minho #one shot #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #tmr #tmr minho x reader

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tialinffxiv · 2 months ago

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FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024

Prompt #16: Third-rate

Dedicated to all of us women, transwomen, nonbinary folks etc who are facing terrible and unfair treatment also in the game communities.

Tia was taking an unhurried stroll through the New Gridania. It was still rather early and not so many people around; crisp morning air filled with bird’s chirping was pleasantly refreshing. He promised Mother Miounne to visit a while ago and finally got a chance for that.

He paused near the Carline Canopy when he noticed a person sitting alone on the steps to the tavern: slouching slightly over the wooden bow resting on their lap, their outfit suggesting a still green adventurer.

“Hello~” he smiled friendly at the Moonkeeper girl when she raised eyes on him, surprised by the sudden company. “Do you maybe need some help? You’re looking kinda downcast and all.”

“I… uhhh…” she turned eyes back onto the ground, her ears flattening miserably to the sides of her head. “I’m actually here to resign from being an adventurer but… I cannot get myself to actually do it.”

Tia gazed over her with concern. “And what would be the reason for this decision?”

“I don’t think I’m made for this after all. Others do share this opinion as well…”

Red light started to blink in Tia’s mind upon hearing the tone of the girl’s voice. “And who are those others and what exactly did they tell you?”

“I’m… not so great with using a bow but I really wanted to be an adventurer and they told me that I should pick it because it’s easy.” the girl sighed and Tia frowned at her words, already annoyed by whoever made such a statement. “There are few new guys at the guild as well and they always poke fun at me, saying that as such a third-rate wanna-be adventurer and archer the most I can do is being a mascot of the guild… because ‘at least you look cute’…”

Tia’s brows formed a single, solid and very angry line. “That’s a truly vile thing for them to say. Who are they to judge someone’s worth like that?! Have your supervisors at the guild heard about it yet?”

“Uhh, no…” girl shook head, the tip of her tail coiling nervously at her side. “I didn’t really want to make a big affair out of this. I thought it would be better if I just left. I don’t think anyone would take it seriously there anyway. After all… they are right- I’m not skilled with this at all.”

Tia tried to remain calm while his blood was reaching boiling point. “They don’t have the right to treat anyone like this and I won’t let it go unnoticed. Listen- you joined the guild because you really wanted to be an adventurer, right? Don’t let others walk over you like this. And don’t stay silent when they treat you poorly. Especially by people with such dirt-grade opinions! Everyone needs to learn and first of all- find the right path for themselves: you may lack at one thing but master the other- all you have to do is keep your head up and try it!”

Girl’s eyes went big while she was staring up at this stranger but grabbed his hand when he reached down to help her get up. “No giving up just because some jerk chose to be such a trash towards you, okay?” Tia patted her shoulder when the girl nodded in response. “Now, as for the right path- I might be of help with this~” he took a small notebook and a pen out of pocket and scribbled down some notes. “This is the address of the house in Lavender Beds- I happen to be taking care of it and everyone who lives there. There’s a bunch of lovely folks there who will be thrilled to help you find some more suitable job- or to train archery with you some more if you would like. Feel free to visit anytime you would want- tell them that I send you.” Tia smiled brightly at the girl who stared down at the piece of paper, now with a much more calm expression- and even smiled a bit back at him.

“Thank you…”

“No problem at all.” he smiled again and then waved to the woman who was walking towards them, probably alerted by Tia’s lively motivation speech. “Hello and I will be right back, Mother Miounne! Keep that coffee warm for me, I just have some business with a few gentlemen at the Archer’s Guild, it won’t take long.”

When he jogged away Miounne shook her head, with a wide smile. The Miqo’te girl suddenly realizes something. “Wait! What’s your name…” but he was already too far away to hear her.

“Oh, that was our Tia. As full of energy as ever and as much helpful.” Elezen lady chuckled shortly.

“Tia?” the girl tilted head at her. “But he’s a Viera not a Sunseeker?…”

“Oh no, no- Tia is his name, not a title. It’s actually Tia Lin, to be precise.”

Girls' eyes went round like the gil coin. “Tia Lin… THAT Tia Lin?… The Warrior of Light?…” She stood there stunned, mouth agape, while Miounne chuckled again- and just let the lady lead her inside of the tavern, for a cup of tea.

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv writing challenge #Tia Lin

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writingrosesonneptune · 5 months ago

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Character Inverse Tag

🦉Thank you to @tabswrites for the tag!🦉

Rules: Describe the opposite of your OCs

Gently tagging: @cowboybrunch @chauceryfairytales @mysticstarlightduck @rhikasa @literarynecromancy and anyone else who wants to join in!

Doing this for the PQ cast!

Sadira: Laidback and not in a hurry to make any moves, always thinks everything through before making a decision. Has no problem sacrificing others' happiness or wellbeing in order to achieve her goals. Weak convictions. Doesn't care what others think of her and would never feel bad for speaking out of turn.

Yanna: Outspoken and outgoing, rushes in without thinking of the consequences. The bold leader of her group of friends, she has no patience for research or doing things the safe way. Hates secrecy and thinks writing in code is stupid. Doesn't snoop around. Would confess to her crush as soon as the thought occurred to her.

The Huntsman (L): Also hates secrecy, hates stealth even more, and would never pull a longcon to get even with someone. If he got upset about something, he would just let it go. No need to dwell on it. He doesn't have any special interests, either, no ill-advised collections. Just a hobbyless guy with a well-adjusted outlook. He probably doesn't even have a signature outfit.

Ghost-Hand: Real pleasant guy, very neighborly. If you messed up, he probably wouldn't have anything to say about it. Loud. Colorful wardrobe, maximilist decor. Thinks everyone has inherent worth and would never suggest sacrificing anyone for the greater good. Hates the military. The one thing is he acts kind of irrationally and holds onto grudges for a long time?

Bonus Characters under the cut.

Stryn: The best listener. Has uncanny perception both of time passing and when people are hiding something. Dispassionate; doesn't get fixated on his goals at all. Understands places are more than names on a map. Hates wolves and the theatre. Has no respect for spirits and is fine letting other people take charge.

Han: A total pessimist. Thinks things will never get better and lets opportunities pass him by. Doesn't worry about seeming useful and has no abandonment issues whatsoever. Quiet. Isn't nosy. Hates gossiping and window-shopping. Has no desire to read or go anywhere new.

E: Not one to overthink. Terrible at bluffing and is always honest about her feelings. Doesn't have a weird reaction to receiving gifts. Self-preserving law-abider. Has no sense of humor or impulse control. Never makes stupid bets with her husband to see who can get more information out of people.

Z: Cold, thinks what happens to others is no problem of his. Sharp dresser. Price gouges and takes sellers licenses very seriously. Loves the military. Plans everything five steps ahead and never avoids his problems. Terrible at reading people and keeping secrets.

Giuliana: Very well-adjusted to grief. Doesn't jump to conclusions, have a victim-complex, or blame people for things outside of their control. Not protective in the slightest. Laidback approach to parenting and governing. Is upfront about everything and respects authority outside of her own. No sense of fashion, could never be a trend-setter.

Alyssa: Meek, unadventurous. Doesn't like reading or working with others, and she doesn't have hangups about handling responsibility. Hates horses. Never gossips or makes a first move. Practical clothes only. Incapable of setting aside her feelings and won't compromise on anything.

#pelican queen #tag games

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 5 months ago

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hello, i notice that your request were open and was wondering you could do a matchup for me? preferably for demon slayer, jujutsu kaisen, and one piece.

i'm 20 years old, hispanic, a virgo, and use she/her pronouns.

appearance: 4'11. pear body shape. shoulder length hair. dark brown eyes. sometimes wears glasses.

personality: i'm a little awkward and distant at first. mostly wanting to know if your intentions are good or not. but once i get to know you and feel comfortable around you... i can be quite sarcastic, honest (to the point where it has gotten me in trouble), very curious, mischievous, stubborn, a little odd, calm, and patient. talking is depending, i guess? i mostly talk out of necessity or, if asked, unless i wholeheartedly love and trust you so much. i also tend to ramble a lot when a subject that i know and/or love is brought up. i can be prideful to the point where i don't want to apologize, but i am learning that it's okay to make mistakes and that i am not always right or know all.

hobbies: listening to music. playing games. reading. stargazing. watching [anime, documentaries, movies, series, etc].

likes: art, cats & dogs, dr. pepper, fashion, music, reading, stargazing, webtoon/manhwas.

dislikes: coffee, heights, hot temperature/weather, insects, overcrowded places, when people make fun of me for being a picky eater

love language(s): gift giving and acts of service.

extra: i really want to have tattoos. my favorite colors are pink and green. physical touch kind of scares me. and i always want to look good even if i'm just going grocery shopping.

sorry for the request being so long ^^' and i hope you have a wonderful day!

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long.

You didn't specify whether you would prefer a male or female matchup (or if you didn't have a preference) so I've given you a male and female matchup for each fandom. As a result, the headcanons for each character are a bit shorter than normal. If you'd like more headcanons for any of the characters, please let me know and I'll happily write some up for you.

I hope you like your matchups!

In Demon Slayer, I match you with...

Modern au Tanjiro is definitely a fan of webtoons. I can’t explain that, it’s just a feeling. He’d love to get some suggestions from you so you can talk about your favourite comics together.

More than willing to get rid of bugs for you. He’ll move them so they’re not bothering you and let them go somewhere they’ll be happy so they don’t come back.

You and Kanao are certainly a quiet couple but you get each other in ways others can’t. She might not say much but she’s very empathetic and understands you well.

She’s not a big fan of crowded places either so is more than happy to avoid those with you. If you do have to go somewhere crowded, Kanao will stay as close to you as possible without touching you so you’re both comfortable.

In Jujutsu Kaisen, I match you with...

I don’t see Megumi as a huge fan of physical touch himself so he’s more than happy to have his personal space. If you’re comfortable with linking pinkies while you walk or even just occasionally touching ankles while sitting together, he’s happy with that as well.

Enjoys watching documentaries with you. He finds them interesting and enjoys hearing you add any extra facts throughout. He’s always paying really close attention too so expect him to remember those details even months down the track.

Nobara is the outgoing sass to your quiet mischief. You’re actually a super chaotic and unstoppable due when put together so it’s great for you two and terrible for everyone else.

Oh, she’s so happy you like fashion. She might not be the most girly-girl out there but she’s still a teenage girl and can appreciate some good outfits when the mood strikes her.

In One Piece, I match you with...

You and Usopp would definitely be the art due of the crew. You’ve both got that creative spark in you and are more than happy to give each other feedback and advice when the other is stuck on something.

Since you’re both mischievous as well, I can see the two of you being the pranksters of the crew. No one is safe from your pranks. Hopefully you can run fast though, otherwise you might not always escape scott-free…

Vivi loves stargazing with you. She finds it super relaxing. Bonus points if you’re rambling about the stars. Vivi loves listening to you talk about your passions so it’s a win-win in her book.

Definitely not someone to tease you for being a picky eater. In fact, since she’s got access to private chefs, she’ll be able to ensure all of your meals are designed so you enjoy every bite.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro kamado #kanao tsuyuri #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #one piece #usopp #vivi nefertari

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sparkymalone · 7 months ago

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Time for day 3 for yume session

Archery club...

I was at archery club with my good friend snow yoisaki she was a definition of a perfect student straight A's best at poems, art,math, history everyone loved her she was amazing of course and I'm so lucky she's my friend! She even helps me study for our test and stuff but I'm glad I'm not the type to take advantage of her kindness hehehe during the end archery class me and snow were talking "great job yume! You improved!" She said happily "the others even improved and today was solid evidence!" I love doing archery I was very good at it and I kept improving and this month I finally did every score perfect! However when I was talking to snow right before going home she told me that during her 3rd year she'll become a archery teacher soon enough snow was an year older then me and I can't wait to see her become a teacher "alright then see you tomorrow yume-chan'" her voice was pretty different for what I could tell she went away something about that smile was different for what I usually see on a daily basis...

Knock knock knock

Huh? "Hey yume!" I heard my name it was my older brother Yuki and his lady friend sanka togami "hey oni-chan ddo you need something?" He nod

"Yep sanka and me are taking fashion design over our school and we're not sure what designs we're going to create" my big brother was apart of the senior course meaning I could barely see him only on his break "so do you think you should help us? The one we made was...errr low quality and I'm not wearing those" I suggested them a knight theme since their old customers resembles one when I told them about one that should resembles a knight and their king looking a bit snowy like it reminded me of snow something about that smile she had was off and I didn't felt uneasy when I said that "hm? What's wrong lil sis?" "Oh! I well...my friend she felt a bit off today" my brother stayed quiet but he spoke "don't worry maybe she's just tired from the clubbing" maybe he was right maybe I'm jumping conclusion..."well thanks for helping us make these outfits yume-san" sanka said as she went outside yume's bedroom yuki hesitated but patted yume head "I'll be back after class okay?" He dashed out

....

2 years ago yume is starting 8th grade she was excited she was apart of the main course with her big bro but he's more older her old childhood friend(and rival) aimee shirogane "aimee! I didn't expect for you to be here!" She laughed at her "of course my mom was a ultimate so it's clear I'll get in" "alrighty let's do our best shall we aimee-chan!"

After class there was a clubbing Program for them to choose a club aimme took the writing club and then there was yume who decided to look at the archery club on her way she saw her brother who was at the foreign language club with 3 friends "hey lil sis where you heading off to?" He asked yume "oh I'm going to the Archery club" she replied "well it's over at the courtyard over there" when yume walked passed the sports club running there she was introduced to the captain of the club and she introduced herself some people there called her 'pretty' her brunette and blonde mixed hair was the most prettiest features about her according to teachers,her family,friends and others "hehe well thank you" the captain asked why she visited "my brother recommend it to me he said I should learn how to aim stuff properly he said I'm terrible at darts and also need to work on my postures As well" the Captain raiseed her eye but nod "okay good" that's not until a girl taller and looking a bit older then yume approach her "you're yume kuzuryuu right? The daughter of fuyuhiko and hajime Hinata kuzuryuu?" She said some of the students muttered a bit "oh yes how did you know?" "You look exactly like the two" she said

"Alright what about you miss.."

"It's snow yoisaki my mom used to be an archery club member but then when I say you handing out flyers for the club I decided to join"

"Eh?! You really did that?!" Snow simply nod "well this is quite embarrassing" snow laughed and just told her it's okay snow and yume become training partners courtesy of the captain it's been 3 weeks since yume joined "you're improving yume" snow said right after yume shoot on the target "thanks but I can't focus properly with the hot air" snow got a tie "maybe this can help?" Snow tied yume's hair into a bun hm maybe" yume aimmed the target and it was better then last time "it was better then the last one! Thanks snow!"

Yume was conflicted for the past few weeks with Aimee who changed agencies for some reason she didn't wanted to talk about it she just left without explaining anything at all and her brother was no help like at all with these type of stuff at archery she sat down her palms were sweaty "hey yume you need to stop worrying just hit-" yume just sighed the retired captain of the club was visiting to make sure the present one was good enough and yume was absolutely anxious with so many things on her mind she couldn't properly think "hey yume?" Snow appeared "you don't look okay" yume sighed "I can't focus properly how do you focus on archery while your mind has more things to focus on?" Snow got her bow and arrow and stretch it "when you do Archery or any thing at all you need to focus the target you should think about those stuff later your target is there your other target is wayyy over there" she said while targeting the bullseye she gave the arrow and gave it to yume,yume got up and stretch the arrow "alright" when she did the arrow reached the bullseye yume eyes widen and hugged snow "thanks snow!" After

When the old captain came along he looked at snow "hey aren't you kanade yoisaki's daughter?" Snow nod "I still remember your mom she still writes song yes?"

"Yes sir she is a good composer" the captain turned to yume "and you're yume kuzuryuu?* Same as snow she nod "your dad hajime always watched your other dad whenever he was at his club at the end you're father kissed him on the cheek after he was done with clubbing y'know?"

"Damn that's kinda homosexual"

"Because that is"

"Oh yea"

Bonus: after clubbing yume was planning to leave early but it was cut short due to the heavy rain, instead she went inside the dojo but she saw snow still doing archery muttering something "I must.." yume couldn't make out on what she was saying but she realized snow was aiming 5 times without missing which surprises her "what is she saying...?"

....(Yume pov)(Present)

I'm still wondering if I'm jumping into conclusion whether or not I'm still wondering what's going on about snow

Park

Bonus 2 (aimee meet) Back when I was ababy my parents and my brother used to play together in the park or even get to play with my old childhood friends I'm pretty mischievous as a kid my father's clan members always hated how mischievous I was my dad needed to take me outside the manor and I ran.one day my dad's let me run a bit I tried pranking people on the streets until....OW! What was that?! I looked seeing a girl my age she was the one I hit "hey!" She saw me and tossed a branch at me, I ran but she was faster and tackle me we both started laughing"I'm Aimee by the way* she put her hand towards me "yume kuzuryuu" I replied

Also I don't know that much about Archery so maybe the things included are inaccurate I tried to research but anyway yea yuki was a brother named yuki

Other kids

Snow yoisaki

Yuki kuzuryuu Hinata

Sanka togami

Aimee shirogane

Maybe next will be a kazusumi (kazuichi x natsumi)backstory and one where yume's brother is the focus instead

Sorry it always takes me a while to get around to posting these. Anyway, you're doing great!

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