#I hope to have something to show by the end of the month!
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Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!
a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3
sick on tour
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e3cd65723f719415d39ef57b96690606/f5e4dc9b8cff6c5a-0a/s540x810/24a15ea6b00cb51066a2165b0f38d058bfd79a4e.jpg)
The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.
You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.
“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.
“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”
He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”
“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.
Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.
“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”
You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.
You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”
His brows furrow. “You—”
“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”
Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”
You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."
You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.
You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”
After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”
"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.
"Drink Harry." You said sternly.
He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.
“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.
“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.
His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”
You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”
And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.
Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles x female reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x y/n#harry styles love on tour#harry styles fic rec#fic rec
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Happier than ever
Part 1
Pairing: Nam-gyu × Reader × The Salesman
Warnings: Drug Usage, Overdose, Death, Violence, Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Suicide, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Mentions of Rape, Domestic Violence, Domestic Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Anger Issues, Depression, Long Backstory, Minors do not interact!
Nam-gyu and you were a couple for the last eight years. But after you decide you had enough of his anger issues, you leave him and try to be happy on your own. Oh, how naïve you are.
Author's note: Okay, everyone.😩 I know you're waiting for the next part of "Your girl" and trust me, I am, too! I'm sorry that I haven't come up with it yet, but I needed to get my mind off of it for a moment, because I don't want to just write anything and publish it like that - the story means too much to me. I can't publish it unless I'm happy with it, but I promise you, I'm working on it. Until then, I started to furiously hit the key board and this happened. Whatever this is, it is Part 1 of it and I'm doing a Part 2, I just don't know when yet. I love you! 🤍 Lana
Loving Nam-gyu wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
In fact, it was almost impossible on most days.
But there was a part of you, a thing, a quiet voice – something that needed to be reassured, that felt like maybe you were the problem.
There had been good days, hadn’t there? Your birthday and the way he woke you up with pancakes every year. Of course they turned out horrible and were barely edible. They were raw on the inside and somehow, he still managed to burn them. But he made them for you. The memory still made you smile, despite everything.
Then there was the day you had your big ballet performance. You had spent so many months rehearsing, trying to be perfect. You went all Natalie Portman on that performance. Since the moment you’d been told you got to play Odette, you were fire and flame, spending every waking moment trying to be everything you pictured in your head. It was hard, very hard even. But you had the great hope that, if maybe you did well enough, they would come.
Your family would come and watch. They’d finally show you that they did indeed love you, that you weren’t just a burden or an accident. They would come and they would be proud of you. Your father would set his work phone down, your mother her pills. They would be there. For you.
But of course, they didn’t. You should have known better. It was your own fault, hoping and praying for something that was never going to happen. You should have known.
And still, the moment the curtain lifted and you glanced along the rows and rows of people, you felt disappointed. But you didn’t feel disappointed like normal people would, no. It was you after all. You felt devastated. You felt all of your creativity leave your mind. Your body slowly forgot the choreography. Your eyes glistened with tears. And your life was over.
You had your own issues. He had his anger. You had your world endings.
That was until the door flew open after everyone was already seated, waiting for the show to begin. A few heads turned and your gaze quickly flashed towards the now open door, revealing the face of the mysterious newcomer. He was out of breath and his hair was a mess, his cheeks glowing red and the look in his eyes pleading.
It was Nam-gyu.
You had just had the greatest argument of your life so far, throwing around dishes and screaming your lungs out at each other. Not even twelve hours had passed since then, so you were more than sure that he wouldn’t come. After all, he was the least reliable person you knew, alongside your family. And that fight had been particularly bad. You actually didn’t expect to ever see him again.
But there he was, his appearance disheveled and his eyes pleading with you. Pleading with you to forgive him, pleading with you to dance.
Dance.
You remembered the way you felt. The way your disappointment suddenly turned into something different, something hopeful and warm.
Something good.
He was good.
He was yours.
And you were his.
In that moment, there was nothing else. Everything around you faded into a dark cloud and all you could focus on was him and the way he stood in the middle of the audience, staring up at you. The world was quiet and everything smelled like flowers. The perfection you were striving for was suddenly there and it had nothing to do with your performance.
It was a slow dance, slow and sensual, between your souls.
Until suddenly the music started and your body remembered the movements again.
And you were indeed perfect.
Unfortunately though it wasn’t always like that. Most of the time, he was simply complicated. When he wasn’t drugged out of his mind, he was angry. Not at all the time – but easily. All you had to do was say the wrong thing and he’d explode. And you’d explode right back, right into his face.
“I fucking hate you!”
“Shut the fuck up, you dumb slut!”
“Who are you calling a slut?! You son a bitch!”
“Say that again!”
It always ended the same way. You sobbing on the floor, him slamming the door shut and disappearing. That were the good fights.
The bad ones were different. You couldn’t count the times you had been forced to take shelter in the bathroom, quickly locking the door, too afraid to let him even close to you. Of course you knew how to fight back. You didn’t let him get away with slapping you, oh no, you kneed him right in the balls so he’d know better not to fuck with you. He’d normally collapse and the fight would be over. But sometimes, on especially bad days, he got that look on him.
It wasn’t careful or hesitant. No, it was murderous and terrifying. You always knew there was something dangerous about him. That was probably what drew you in at first. But this…It was different. When he got that look, when the drugs clouded his mind like that, you were truly afraid of what he might do. And so you locked yourself in and listened to the way he pounded against the door, ready to break it down. So far, he hadn’t. A part of him was still in there, even when got like that.
But you didn’t want to push your luck.
After eight years of up and down, back and forth and through the gates of Hell, you finally left him for good. At first he probably didn’t believe it. After all, you had pulled the leaving card a million times before. But somehow you always ended up back in his bed, with him fucking your brains out and calling it making up.
But this time, you meant it. It had been a pretty normal Tuesday. You were at work, waiting tables and cleaning up after your mindless customers. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it paid the bills – albeit, barely.
After your father left and married a woman hardly any older than you and you found your mother on the bathroom floor, cold and stiff, her eyes wide and her chin and hair covered in foam and puke, you decided couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t be that anymore.
You moved in with Nam-gyu. It started off well at first. He was as cute as ever, when he was sober. Sure, you had fights already, but they were mostly trivial. Yelling was involved, throwing furniture around as well, but he never got violent with you so far.
He found a job, as did you and you paid your apartment together. It was tiny of course, but it was enough. You bought groceries and washed laundry. You even had some spare money to buy furniture and decorations. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. You did everything the way you always pictured it.
You had been with Nam-gyu since you turned seventeen. You met back in school and immediately fell in love with him. He had been so sweet. Acting overly confident and arrogant, of course, but it was just a front which you immediately realized. Under all that he was actually rather silly. He made you laugh without even trying. Even he seemed surprised by how good you two matched. So far he’d been going through life, acting like everyone was beneath him. But in reality, he wasn’t popular. He was a bully. He was mean, with a cruel streak. But never to you. No, when someone dared to speak up their mind against you, he was there, ready to break their jaw. You formed a friendship of sort. He was protective and extremely possessive, while you were caring. His family was a bunch of assholes, just like yours was and neither of you had any real friends.
Most of your friends were other dancers and neither of those were really sentimental. Sure, it was enough to go out for a salad sometimes, but you really weren’t one for bulimia and cigarettes. Most of them were, unfortunately.
You loved food. You loved to eat and you appreciated every bite. You’d grown up rather lonely on your own, praying every night for a sibling or a real friend. Someone you could talk to, about real problems. Your ballet friends though? Whenever they asked you how you felt, they didn’t actually want to know. They were just being polite.
Nam-gyu was just as lonely, though he wouldn’t have ever admitted it. He had friends, who were to no one’s surprise, also a bunch of assholes. Some of them were just bullies, others were straight-up rapists.
“What do you mean, you changed your mind? Are you dumb? Shut the fuck up and take it. You agreed to this!”
Nam-gyu wasn’t. It was another thing he wouldn’t have admitted to out loud, but the thought of fucking someone while they were out of it was something he wasn’t after. A thing that really turned him on was to see the pleasure on the other person’s face. The moans, the sighs. He wouldn’t get that if he just made them take it. And so he didn’t. But he tried to keep a straight face, when his friends shared their immoral stories of last weekend. He tried to laugh, when they spoke about the way the girls curled up in self-hatred after they left them there, their cum leaking out of them.
That was until one of the girls ended up killing herself.
She had been super sad and melancholic for as long anyone could remember. She was rather quiet and no-one really spoke to her. She wasn’t weird or anything, just really shy. That was enough to get bullied. She was an obvious virgin and rather closed-off. A good challenge. A great bet.
So, one of his friends placed a bet with the others. Fuck the girl.
“No way that weirdo is letting you anywhere close to her.”
And she didn’t, at first. She didn’t trust anyone around, because people normally made fun of her. But that guy, who went by Nic, was a real good actor. He didn’t walk up to her and just made advances. No, he played shy around her. Sweet. Funny. He managed to tickle a smile out of her. A laugh. And he didn’t just do it once. He did it for days. Weeks. Two months. He played her boyfriend. Her sweet, shy boyfriend. Until her front slowly crumbled and she fell in love with him. Deeply. So much that she actually decided to give Nic her first.
According to Nic it had been nothing out of the ordinary, but Nam-gyu knew it was more than that. He could read the people around him fairly well, and he could also see the way Nic’s pupils dilated, the way his heart skipped a beat, whenever his sweet, little girlfriend was around.
But his friends, his friends, they were constantly at his back.
“Did you finally fuck her?”
“Did you stretch that weird little cunt, huh?”
“Don’t tell me you’re falling for that Wednesday Addams bitch.”
Nic had a reputation to uphold. And so he did what he deemed necessary. He had sex with her and then he dumped her. But not like any normal person would. No, he made fun of her in the worst ways and ended up sending her nudes to anyone who was interested.
The same nudes he had begged her to send him, to trust him, for only his eyes.
And the next day, the gruesome news were heard over speaker.
She was dead. Jumped off her apartment building, right into her death.
Nic had a mental breakdown. No-one else from his group really cared. No-one except for Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu spent the rest of the day in his car, staring down at the steering wheel and trying not to throw up.
You had heard the news of course and you were devastated. You hadn’t known the girl, but you had never been mean to her. You actually remembered a few interactions you had. You knew there had been something going on between her and Nam-gyu’s friend. But naïve, little you had had the hope that it wasn’t a trick. How stupid you had been.
You spent the rest of the day looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Right when you already thought maybe he wasn’t at school at all, you saw his car. He was inside and God, he looked horrible. With red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands, all day. You tried your best to comfort him, but it was futile. He felt guilty. Someone was dead. And maybe, just maybe, if he had intervened in time…
You tried to make him understand that it wasn’t his fault, not entirely. He never spoke to his friends again.
You’d later find out, that was the day he took his first injection. So far all he had been doing were mushrooms and weed, but Hell, who hadn’t?
You spent more and more time together, because he firmly ignored everyone who was so damn fucked in the head. He was trying to be good, he was trying so hard. Life hadn’t been easy on him, not at all, but he still tried.
A month later, you had your first kiss. Another three days later you had sex. It was your first time and he was being surprisingly gentle and considerate. You loved thinking back to it, because you didn’t regret it at all. No matter what else happened between you afterwards, you could never regret giving your virginity to him, because it meant so much to you. And it seemed to mean even more to him.
Two years later, it was safe to say you were made for each other. Even long after being out of school, you were still a couple. He still got these angry outbursts sometimes, but you tried to understand him. He had grown up, feeling unseen and unloved by anyone. As did you. You weren’t angry per say. But you got angry, when he did. You had these desperate mood swing. And whenever something didn’t go your way, you felt like the world was ending. You felt everything intensely.
Love was great. It was all-consuming. You loved him in the same way he did. You adored him. Anger was different. It felt suffocating. Sadness wasn’t sadness, but depression. And despair was enough to nearly kill you.
You tried going to university, but that didn’t work out, because your father left and so you had no chance to pay the tuition. Nam-gyu never even bothered to try, because he knew he would fail anyway, but he tried whatever he could to make your dream work. You wanted to work with animals, heal them, help them, do whatever you could to make someone’s life better. But despite all your – and his – efforts, it didn’t work out. It was simply too much. He was heartbroken when you were forced to leave school, because of your selfish prick of a father. But it was alright.
You’d find another job. You could still make it in life, even without university. Everything was good.
That was, until you couldn’t afford your dance practice any longer.
That was heartbreaking.
One day, you came home after a long day of playing cashier, only to find your mother had stolen all the money you had saved so far. She took it to buy pills or whatever else. You couldn’t even be mad at her, because she lay passed out in the doorway to her room.
You had no money. And all your dreams were dead.
By the time that happened you were far into twenty-one, so you knew that life was cruel and you turned more and more bitter.
Nam-gyu was simply angry, but there was not much he could do. His parents threw him out at nineteen, so he had been paying his own rent since then. He tried speculating with cryptocurrency, but that didn’t work out. He played it down, but you knew he lost quite the amount of his own savings.
A year later your mother died and you finally moved in together. So far you hadn’t been able to leave her on her own, but now that she was gone, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place where she had died. The cemetery of what could have been. Countless dour memories, not a single one good.
You had never had a particularly good relationship, but she was your mother nonetheless. The sight of her dead body and horrified face, it haunted you in your sleep. You spent more than one night, waking up screaming, sweating and clutching the linens. Luckily, Nam-gyu was there to catch you, before you ever managed to fall into the deep pit that was your mind.
He managed to calm you down somehow, every time. He was perfect. The perfect boyfriend.
Until he wasn’t.
You hated when he did drugs, especially so after what had happened to your mother. And so he said he wouldn’t, but it was obviously just to pacify you. You always noticed when he did it nonetheless, you knew the dazed look in his eyes, the paleness of his skin. Whenever he refused a meal, it was obvious to you. Normally, he’d choke down everything you cooked like a starved animal, but there were days when he picked at his food and that was always the first indication.
His short responses, his temper, suddenly so easily flared. It didn’t take long for your first real argument to break out. It was fine, up until the point when you saw his hand twitch. Obviously, you shot him a murderous look, daring him. If he dared to hit you, you’d break his fucking jaw.
And he refrained. For then.
Things went mostly normal, until the next fight. That time he wasn’t so gentle. Things got out of hand and he pushed you against the wall, smashing your head against it in the process. For a moment, you were simply stunned – and even he seemed to be. He stopped before he could cause any greater damage.
Things went between good and bad, it was a constant battle for dominance. One day was good, the next day horrible. You couldn’t even look at him without earning a harsh comment. You’d ignore him firmly for the rest of the day and eventually he’d come crawling back, begging you to let him back inside the bedroom. He didn’t mind the couch, he just missed you. And somehow you always forgave him, far too easily. Sometimes he did change for a while. Surprised you with flowers or his sad attempts at cooking. Every time he messed up a scrambled egg, you couldn’t help but get weak. He was so silly, it was endearing. Yet at the same time, you knew there was something dark within him. Most likely the drugs, but you could never tell for sure.
Maybe this was just who he was.
Things got better and worse again, until one night, he snapped. You had a fight about one of your co-workers, who he considered a threat. You never understood it, because to you it was so obvious that you never wanted anyone else. Despite your problems, you stayed fiercely loyal to him. You loved Nam-gyu. And a part of you still believed that in the end, things would turn out good. Maybe they would, right?
But that night was bad. He got so furious and when he yelled at you, the walls seemed to shake. You were normally so eager to fight back, so strong, but that day something was different. You were on your period and just a few hours earlier, you had met a dance friend of yours. She told you, she was sure that, if you had stayed, you’d be famous by now. But she wasn’t kind about it. She was subtly looking down at you, shaming you for the way your life had turned out. It made a tight knot form in your stomach and you felt your resolve slowly crumble. All you wanted was to cry, but even that didn’t work, because you came home to a furious Nam-gyu.
Your shoulders slumped and you refused to look at him, which only ever made him angrier.
You didn’t see the slap coming, but once it happened, you couldn’t forget it. Couldn’t forget the anger and the disappointment that welled up in you. When you looked up at him, you expected the tiniest bit of regret or guilt, but there was nothing. He was too deep in his bubble of anger and substance, to see clearly. He got more and more furious and you knew; if you didn’t hide then, he’d do something worse. It was the first night you hid yourself away in the bathroom, one of many to follow. You always told yourself it were the drugs. He was so sweet when he was sober, so gentle and loving. You kept telling yourself, things would be good one day. They would turn out well. With time and patience.
Until you snapped.
You were at work, staring off into the distance. You had been out of it all day, because you spent the previous night locked in the bathroom, until he finally passed out around four in the morning. You snuck out and made your way to your workplace, where you opened more than three hours early. You had nowhere else to go. No family, no friends, no one. Only you and your pain. All day you spent trying to cover the dark marks on your wrists, but no one seemed to care anyway. People went about their own lives and problems and you were just their co-worker, their waitress.
You stood silently, watching an elderly couple whose order you had just taken. They were so sweet, like they came right out of a movie. He held the door open for her and pulled her chair back. He caressed her cheek and she never flinched when he reached out his hand for her. They smiled at each other with such a tenderness, it brought tears to your eyes. That was the exact moment. That was the moment you realized you didn’t want to continue on living like this.
You wanted more. You deserved more.
You made your way back and gathered most of your things while he was still at work. Of course it wasn’t the most intelligent approach, but it was all you could do. You knew, the moment you sat down and tried to explain to him that you were going to leave him, he’d find a way to convince you to stay. It had been eight years, after all. Eight years on and off, eight years up and down. Drugs, violence, lies – at least he never cheated on you.
You’d keep that in tender memory of him. As well as the countless times he had comforted and fought for you. All the times he made you laugh, all the times he made you feel loved. The greatest sex you would ever have, no doubt.
But you still packed your things and left like a ghost. After eight years.
He tried to contact you of course, the moment he came home. But you took your paycheck and went to a motel. Whenever he tried to find you at work, you hid in the kitchen. Your co-workers tried to calm him down, to tell him that you didn’t work there any longer, but he saw through the lie. He got loud and furious, which you could kind of understand. You stayed in the kitchen, crying to yourself and feeling incredibly guilty, but you didn’t ever come out.
He kept coming, but it got less and less frequent. From what your co-workers told you, he seemed less and less like himself. The thought broke your heart and nearly made you go back.
You were constantly in your head, making more and more mistakes at work, until your boss’s patience finally snapped. When you messed up the third customers giant bill, he fired you. You instantly panicked, because you were sure, now you had to go back.
You even drove around in your car, trying to get a glimpse of him in the apartment. But to your horror, you didn’t see Nam-gyu in the window. It were other people, some couple actually. And when you tried to call him, the number wasn’t available. Suddenly, he was a ghost and you were knee deep in horse shit.
It didn’t take long for your money to go and so you ended up panicking. You had to leave the motel soon and if you didn’t get a job – you’d end up homeless. Which was as good as dead.
A few days later, after you realized that you seemed to have no special talents and that no one really cared to hire you, you sat at the metro station. You had only one option left or so you thought. Le girls girls girls. You were a dancer. You were graceful. You were too good for this.
But it was all you could do. After all, the girls didn’t have to indulge in any immoral transactions. They were just dancing, right? Fine, in light clothing, but still dancing. You could do that.
You were deep in thought, your eyes closed and your head leaned against the wall behind you, when you heard someone’s voice.
“Care for a game of Ddakji?”
This was when your life took a dark turn.
You eyed the handsome stranger with suspicion. It was super odd. A man going down the path of middle age, slicked-back hair, wearing a suit and a briefcase on him.
And he was asking you to play a game with him?
You frowned and glanced around.
“I don’t know what you want, but you won’t get it from me.”
He smirked and tilted his head to the side innocently.
“I don’t want anything. Just a little game. That’s all. You got something to win here. I got money.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not a fucking hooker.”
He smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And I told you, all I want is to play a game. Are you scared?”
That made you bristle. You knew the game and you fucking hated it. You were fairly good at playing at, but you didn’t care for this idiot’s audacity. You were about to snap at him again, when you caught sight of the money. Your eyes widened and you sank back against the wall.
“I don’t have any money.” You murmured back.
“Don’t worry. You can pay with your body.”
Your head shot up and you were ready to lunge at him, but he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I have no intention of fucking you.” He said calmly. “So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared?”
You crossed your arms and got up, giving him a dirty look.
“Get to it, son of a bitch.”
Your eyes fluttered open slowly. You had trouble adjusting your sight to the unnatural, neon light. The smell was odd, somewhat disinfectant. Something was really wrong.
You slowly stretched and turned your head, only to see you weren’t alone. That was enough to nearly make you shriek. You sat up quickly enough to get dizzy. Next to your own bunk was a woman who stared at you through her cat-eyes. She smirked devilishly as she lay on her side.
“Your fate is sealed. There’s no way you can dance your way out of this.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart raced in your chest. This had to be some freakish co-incidence. You took your gaze off her, only to realize you weren’t alone. Countless people surrounded you, some of them awake, others still asleep. They all wore the same green tracksuit, just as you did.
You took a shaky breath and carefully swung your legs over the bed, heading for the ladder.
What, in God’s name, was this? And why did you agree to it?
You only remembered how ashamed you felt and how good the prospect sounded of not having to dance half-naked for strange men.
But was this really better?
You glanced around in the hope of…Of what? The situation was far too fucked up.
The fact that they got you here unconsciously, getting you dressed…
You wanted to throw up. You stumbled through the great hall, hoping to get some answers to your questions, but that hope quickly got crushed.
These were the real strange men. Dressed in pink suits, wearing masks which covered all of their faces and even their voices weren’t their own. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a fun game, you suddenly realized.
That Ddakji playing motherfucker had deceived you.
You lost the first round, which resulted in him slapping you. And that slap, which hadn’t really been a gentle one, awakened some kind of beast in you. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the memory of getting slapped and hunted down your own apartment on a regular basis. Whatever it was, you didn’t lose another round. He gave you money and money and money. But you didn’t want his fucking money. You wanted revenge.
You kept winning, because nothing else was possible. And by the end of the game, he smiled at you while he handed you the damned card.
But right before he turned crawled back into the pit of Hell where he had come from, you called out to him.
“Hey, motherfucker.”
He cocked a brow and regarded you with amusement. “Are you still mad about that tiny, little hit? Come on, you took it like a champ.”
“Then you should, too.” You slapped him with an intensity, you didn’t think you’d ever possess.
He looked at you like a statue, obviously ready to lunge at and murder you. But he hid his murderous intent behind a well-rehearsed smile.
“That one was free.” He said calmly. “And if I ever do see you again, I want a return match.”
He left and you were left with the card.
And there you were now. This wasn’t some childish game of Ddakji.
No one showed their face. You knew what that meant. Something was wrong – and you were in trouble.
You were about to leave the hall and take part in the first game, following after the others. You wouldn’t even have noticed, had you not bumped into him full-force.
When you pulled back your head, ready to apologize, you froze.
There he was. Your Nam-gyu. Staring back at you with wide eyes, behind them a mixture of something akin to surprise and fury.
“What the fuck?” He hissed.
He rushed forward and grabbed your by the shoulders, backing you up against the wall. Your eyes widened and you tried to push him back, but he was driven by something far stronger than both of you.
“Nam-gyu?” You breathed out.
He frowned deeply and stared at you incredulously.
“What the hell are you doing here?!”
“I didn’t-“
“Oh my God, I’m going to kill you.” He growled. “Where were you? What’s going on with you? Are you fucking-“
“Is there a problem here?” At first, you didn’t see the guy behind him with his ridiculous hairstyle and pouty lips. Immediately, you hated the sight of him.
“Fuck, she’s my-“
The purple-haired guy gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Whatever, man. We should get going, huh? We’ll be late for the game.”
He eyed you in an odd way, but you pushed it down and used the moment to free yourself from Nam-gyu’s grip and run out, rushing after the others and hiding in the crowd. He attempted to follow you and even called out to you, but you were already gone.
Fuck, you thought.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game x yn#squid game smut#squid game angst#nam gyu#nam gyu x reader#nam gyu x you#nam gyu x yn#nam-gyu x reader#nam-gyu x yn#nam-gyu x you#player 124#player 124 squid game#nam gyu smut#nam gyu squid game#squid game nam gyu#the salesman#the salesman x reader#the salesman x you#the salesman x yn#the salesman smut#the recruiter#the salesman squid game#salesman x reader#gong yoo#gong yoo x reader#dyingswanpavlova
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OUR PAST, PRESENT AND FOREVER
Aaron Hotchner
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cw: fem!reader, wedding, crying, emotional hotch.
a/n- this one is super cute, surprise at the end but you can pretend it isn’t there if you don’t like it.
Meeting Aaron Hotchner for the very first time was like breathing fresh country air after being stuck in the city for your whole life. Though your life was arguably more chaotic after knowing him, you never doubted any part of your relationship, neither the good or the bad. You had disagreements but Aaron has never shouted at you and he never will, nor have you at him. Around each other maybe you have, but never to each other. Maybe that’s because of his understanding of your past but also due to the immense respect and love he will always have for you. He never wants to be the reason you cry. Yet, today he was the exact reason you were crying.
Your wedding day, a day you have been dreaming about since you were a little girl. You always wanted the traditional wedding dress, the big but intimate ceremony, the hundreds of thousands of flowers, the awkward and laughable dancing. You wanted and dreamt about it all.
When you met Aaron, you knew you wanted these dreams by his side. You wanted them to turn from your dreams to your shared memories, which is exactly what the day had been.
The ceremony had been indescribable, the feeling of walking down the aisle and Rossi handing you to your soon- to-be husband was overwhelming in the best way. Though, the moment those doors opened, Aaron took one glance at you and your emotions flood from your eyes and you didn’t bother wiping them, just let them fall. His smile was like no one but you had ever witnessed. Full of utter love and affection. Your vows illicited more tears from you, but Aaron was yet to cry. Close, very close he had come, but he had not shown a droplet until you stand up during the after party.
Everyone was sat round their tables and you go to make your speech following the maid of honour and groomsmen’s talks.
“If I could have your attention for a moment,” you say, everyone now looking over you, whose hand was still entwined with Aaron. “Since before Aaron and I were together, I made something hoping this day would one day come and I could finally be able to show him.” You start with a bright smile, looking down at him softly as everyone waits in anticipation.
“So here it is, the day we officially become one, this is my present to you honey.” You smile and wipe your eyes from the falling tears. “This is The Story of The Hotchner’s”
You look at Aaron who watches you place the scrapbook in front of him and he gets teary eyed, his lip wobbling as he looks up at you. He knew he chose the right one. His thoughtful, breathtaking, ethereal piece of art. His wife. The love of his life.
He stands up and pulls you into him, holding you in the tightest embrace you thought you were going to be squished. “Baby, oh my god.” He says, looking deeply into your eyes.
“I haven’t even gone through it yet.” You grin, kissing his cheek and wiping a stray tear from his eye before continuing through the book.
‘To my beloved husband, let’s us never forget our past, our present or our forever.’ Was inscribed into the first page, you’re sat down now, watching as Aaron flips to the first page.
It showed an image of you awkwardly standing behind Hotch from around three months into working at the bau, pointing at his back which was firmly behind you as you pulled a funny face to the camera. It was taken by Penelope, you remember it so vividly, she had been the one to take a lot of these photos, along with JJ. Stuck closely on that page is another image of the same few months where he was staring at you with a straight face but you were grinning at him.
Aaron looked up at you and raises an eyebrow. “Did I always look so miserable around you?” He chuckles softly.
“You did, but I knew you never disliked me. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it, I always knew.” You grin back at him and he kisses your nose. “Now carry on.”
The next page brought a photo of Aaron slightly smirking at something you said but trying to conceal it behind his mug, it was a perfect candid photo. The next was an image of you two conversing on the first press conference with the two of you. Professional and hot.
The memories continued as you slowly see a change in the dynamic of your relationship, at first it’s like you’re both there but just simply there, then you see how Aaron opens up to you slowly and starts to lose his cold front with you. Over time it’s obvious that the distance between the two of you disappears and your smiles grow ten times larger. Then, it gets to recent photos and you stop him before he can flip the page again.
“There is so much space to add more photos of our journey together but I thought today was the perfect day to share this with you.” You grin at him, fully beaming as tears kiss your cheeks. As you look at Aaron, he pulls you to sit on his lap and he looks directly at you. You notice that tears were streaming out of his glassy eyes with very little shame. You laugh at the sight and it makes the emotions bubble more in your chest and he pulls you closer to him by your waist, hugging you so tightly. He kisses your head.
“I’m so beyond in love with you. Thank you. Thank you for having the most thoughtful, generous, beautiful soul both inside and out.” He says letting tears stream down as he doesn’t bother wiping them. Not even considering hiding or getting rid of the evidence of his complete and utter devotion and appreciation of you.
“There’s one more page.” You whisper to him and he looks back at the book, you both flip the page together and it reveals a photo of a baby scan. He freezes from under you and looks at the photo, bringing the book closer to him and looking back to you. Switching his gaze between the photo and you like a tennis rally.
“Is this…”
You nod and laugh, tears falling from your eyes as he pulls you into the biggest hug ever, his hand at the back of your head as it against his chest.
“Our family.”
#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#agent hotchner#hotch#hotchner x reader#bau!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch fanfiction
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hey, hope this months been good to you thus far and that january ended on a good note for you. appreciate you a lot ✌️✌️
Thank you! I hope your year is off to a good start, too
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It Had to Be You Pt 17
TFO Megatron x Reader
• Draped against him, one of his hands is resting against your spine, sliding slowly up and down before his servos tangle in the hair at the back of your head. Making a soft noise, you wiggle on top of him, feeling his spark thrumming under you. That steady rhythm soothing you. As familiar now as the beat of your own heart. Still feel off balance from that contact with his spark. The glimpses you’d gotten of his memories feeling as real as your own. “You held back from me,” he says, red optics sliding to you then away as his jaw works. “Why?” Confused, you reach up to touch his bottom lip and his head turns away.
• Thought you’d finally trusted him. That the two of you had gotten past the fighting. Past resisting each other, but you’d not submitted to him when he’d bonded you. Hadn’t given him everything. And your expression is confused when you prop yourself up on your elbows on his chassis to look down at him. “What’s that mean?” Like you don’t realize what you’d done. What you’d denied him. Spark aching with that missing connection, with what should be.
• What’s he in a mood about now? See his lip lift slightly to show denta before he gently thumps the back of his helm against the berth a couple times. “The bond,” he growls, servos shifting against the back of your head, cupping it. “It’s not complete. You have to feel it.” Frowning at his tone, you remember being tangled in him. Overwhelmed as he’d coaxed you, wrapping himself about you. And you’d ignored that sweet pull humming through you, ignored his coaxing.
• “It was a lot,” you mutter, avoiding his optics now. Venting tiredly, he tries to let go of the tension. It hadn’t been a no. You hadn’t denied him. Can feel the imperfect bond prickling through his spark. Demanding to be completed. That he tangle himself so fully in you that you’ll never be free of him. But this isn’t something he can just demand or take. It has to be given willingly. And patience has never been his strength. “I didn’t really know what was happening. You didn’t warn me.”
• “A lot,” he echoes, voice strained. “I offer you everything and it’s a lot.” Servos restlessly playing with your hair, his optics shutter. “I’m trying. You have no idea how hard I’m trying.” Leaning up on him, you brush your mouth against his and he finally looks at you. Annoyed and hopeful all at the same time as his other hand lands on your hip. There’s a vulnerability in his expression that reminds you of the glimpses you’d seen of D 16. Of who he’d been before Sentinel’s lies had broken him of trust. And he’s trusting you, giving you the ability to hurt him. But You hadn’t been able to do the same, you’d balked, because it had felt like losing a piece of yourself giving in to him.
• “I’m trying too, okay.” Those eyes he gets lost in are so serious as you brush another kiss against him that feels like an apology. Knows he should have explained first, should have stopped you from touching him without understanding what you were committing to. Another Cybertronian would have known. Wouldn’t have given up their freedom to tie themself to him willingly. And he’d taken advantage of your ignorance to get what he wanted. To make a permanent claim on you. Would you have still chosen to reach out and forge that imperfect connection if you’d known what it meant? He’s not sure and a hurt part of him isn’t capable of just asking. Afraid of what the answer might be.
Previous
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4 months to go...
Someone clearly has JM etched on their hand and on the brain.
Miss those two so damn much.
Funny how as time is closing and discharge from military etching closer I feel like it's moving so much slower than the first 14 months did. Is it only me that feels that?
But time is nearing, nevertheless, and as it is, I can't help but think what comes next. What is the day after going to look like?
Obviously, I'm not the only one thinking of that.
The two of them are clearly contemplating the day after as well.
We don't know what their hopes and wishes are for that post military future is, but I can tell you what mine are.
My hope for post military is that they will continue to be as openly inseparable as they have been going into the army and spending those 18 months of their service together.
I know they are together and their relationship is as strong as ever. With as little as we've been getting from them in the past 14 months of their service, they have shown us that ever so loud and clear.
I want them to be able to continue and be open about it.
I want us not to go back to the reality of 2023. A reality in which we KNOW they were spending their time together, but we weren't supposed to know it. A reality in which they gave us crumbs and clues and puzzles to solve but couldn't be loud and clear like this:
or this:
I do feel like there has definitley been a shift since their joint enlistment.
Obviously, them enlisting together was a HUGE part of it.
AYS and everything we were allowed to see in that show (and everything we know we weren't allowed to see as well) was just as HUGE.
But it doesn't end with that.
14 months of service and we barely got anything from them. But when we did, even more so in the last few months, it always contains a clear message of their "togetherness", take it in anyway that you will (they spend free time together, sing together, exercise together, shower together, have heart to heart conversations with each other before going to sleep - together - might not have been said but clearly implied).
To little ole' me this is not a coincidence. This is a clear pattern. A plan in place, one may think or conclude.
So yes, my hope is that when we reach the end of these 18 months we will be walking into a new reality. One in which they don't necessarily 'come out' officially (I think that is asking too much of them, and it would be a huge decision for them to make - together - one that will obviously impact not only them, but the whole of BTS), but do not shy away publicly from just how close and co-dependent they are of each other. A reality in which, dare I say, it's an obvious natural progression for them to continue to live together as "roommates" (in JK's huge mansion, of course) because "they got used to living together while in service". One in which being seen together in public isn't a big deal, it's a norm. One in which neither of them has to cower away or freeze or double take when they are caught on camera together (JK's deer caught in the headlights looks at the camera in mind). One in which when they aren't together them mentioning of the other isn't an "oh" or "ah" moment, but a natural "not a biggie" thing, because that's just something they obviously do. One in which ot7 army who love to ignore just how close those two are (because they are too close and too suspicious and acknowledging that means acknowledging there is more there and that Jikookers aren't delusional shippers that are fantasizing or fetishizing those two, but clearly seeing what they have been purposefully ignoring) cannot continue to ignore any longer.
And I wouldn't have wished for all of the above if I didn't think that was something they wanted.
Because most of all I want one thing.
Most of all I want them to be happy!!
#Jikook#Kookmin#Minkook#Jungkook#Jimin#JK#JM#Jikook post military#my hopes and wishes for Jikook in the future
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could you do kook!reader spoiling jj? like, they're surprisingly really good friends and she's always getting stuff that she thinks he might need or want, like he comes over and she's doing skin care and she'll do his, or bringing him lunch, even buying him rings or surf supplies and everytime he gets all choked up and red because she's so sweet to him, just wanting to make him happy, and all his friends tease him for it calling her his sugar mommy and everything (all cutesy, sfw ^^)
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jj maybank x kook!fem!reader | fluff | (sweetheart!reader, both are massive simps honestly, reader spending too much money on jj, lotta fluff!)
finally getting to my requests! hope you enjoy baby🩷 after writing this i’ve realised i have an obsession with jj and a sweetheart kook so if anyone has any requests for them i’m allll ears!!
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
One thing about JJ was that he wasn’t used to being spoiled. That made sense, with the way he’d grown up and the people he was friends with. The Pogues all adored each other, but they showed their love with banter and loyalty not with gifts and affection. That was probably the reason he turned into a teenage girl every time you were around, because you always had something for him.
It was a known fact that you had a crush on him, ever since Sarah had started dating John B and dragged you along with her you’d thought JJ was cute. At first, he wasn’t a huge fan of you, you were a Kook and in his eyes that made you the enemy. It only took a few days for that novelty to wear off, once he realised there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body.
It was after a couple months of friendship that the never-ending string of affection began. Showing up to his work with his favourite sandwich in a paper bag — a heart drawn on like you were his mother sending him to kindergarten — buying him a new board after he was complaining about how old his was getting, realising there was hardly any body wash left in the bathroom so ordering three bottles for next day delivery. He’d blush and stammer over his words every single time, you just had that effect on him and he couldn’t work out why.
“There she is, JJ’s sugar mama,” John B teased as you came skipping into the Chateau with a shopping bag in hand; nothing out of the ordinary.
“Shut up,” JJ grumbled, shooting him a look before turning to you. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi, guys,” you beamed, sitting down on the couch beside the blonde. Your knee was bouncing excitedly, just waiting for one of them to ask you what you’d brought.
“What’s in the bag?” John B finally asked, a smirk on his face.
You instantly opened it up, grabbing a shirt from the top to throw his way. You didn’t want him to feel left out, although Sarah spent enough money on him that you didn’t feel quite so guilty for showing up with presents for JJ and nothing for John B.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” John B laughed, catching it with ease. He held it up, grinning at the shirt. You imagined he was similar to JJ in the sense that he didn’t get a lot growing up, although you always smiled in the same way whenever you bought yourself a cute outfit.
“It’s the same colour as your eyes!” You exclaimed, a cheesy smile on your face. You liked treating your friends, it was probably the thing that brought you the most happiness.
“Well, I appreciate it, thanks kid,” John B smiled, standing up to give you a pat on the shoulder. “I’m guessing everything else in there is for Mr Maybank here.”
JJ’s cheeks instantly lit up, looking away to try and cover it before his friend could make fun of him. John B stifled a laugh as you nodded sheepishly. You knew that they’d all worked out how you felt about JJ, you’d always drunkenly told John B and Sarah that you wanted to have his babies so that probably gave it away.
“I’m gonna go try this on,” John B decided, ruffling your hair before disappearing inside the Chateau. JJ took a moment to thank God for that, he hated reacting like an idiot in front of the others.
“You know, us inviting you ‘round doesn’t mean you have to bring presents,” JJ stated, scratching his chin awkwardly.
“I know,” you shrugged. “But I was at the mall, and there was so much cute stuff! I got this skirt, too.” You tugged on the end of your baby pink skirt and he let out a soft laugh.
“Go on then, show me what you got,” he sighed, watching as you squealed and started to empty the shopping bag.
There were at least six new shirts in there, a pair of cargo shorts because he’d ripped his at a kegger, some new rings just because and a sweatshirt he himself had been saving up for. He had the same reaction as always, a lump in his throat as he wondered what he’d done in his past life to deserve such kindness and a blush coating his cheeks as you rambled on about how good you thought he’d look in the shirts.
“Do you like them?” You asked softly, after he’d been silent for longer than usual. Normally, he’d stutter out a thank you, kiss your temple and flip off the Pogues as they laughed at him.
“I— yeah, of course I do, but I don’t know if I want you to keep buyin’ me stuff,” JJ said, running a hand over his face.
He could see the way your smile dropped, a look of confusion and hurt in your eyes. “Why?” You asked quietly.
“Because, babe, I— I can’t return the favour, y’know? I don’t have enough money to go ‘round buying you a bunch of stuff, as much as I’d love to. Makes me feel guilty,” he explained, placing his hand on your arm to show he wasn’t mad.
The hurt faded from your face and instead you gave him a soft smile, one reserved for him. “I don’t want you to buy me stuff, I don’t care about that. I like getting you stuff. Besides, it’s not like you don’t do anything for me.”
“What do I do for you?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think.
“Lots of stuff! You make my coffees when I stay over, and you give me your extra fries. You scare away the boys at parties and you always say I look pretty,” you listed, this time a blush coated your cheeks.
He’d never really thought about it like that, like he was actually doing something for you. In his mind, he knew you liked a coffee so he’d make you one before waking you. He knew the Wreck’s fries were your favourite, that was a given from the way you’d scoff them down, so when you ran out he didn’t mind sharing. The scaring away boys was more for him, he didn’t want any of them swooping you off your feet whilst he was trying to work out how to do that himself. And calling you pretty? Well, you were.
JJ didn’t say anything, an idea came to mind. He reached behind him, undoing the shark tooth necklace he’d been wearing ever since he could remember. You watched him in confusion as he moved your hair out of the way and did it up, grinning as it rested just above your cleavage.
“I know it ain’t designer or anything, and it probably doesn’t got with any of your outfits, but it’s my favourite—” he cut himself off, watching as tears ran down your cheeks. You threw your arms around him and he was quick to wrap his around your waist, letting out a chuckle. “It was, like, a few dollars. No need for the tears, baby.”
“I love it,” you sniffled into his shoulder.
He felt himself pressing a kiss to your cheek, hand stroking over your back. Maybe one day that kiss would be on your lips, and instead of a stupid necklace he’d be buying you a damn ring. Not today though, today he was content with just knowing you’d be wearing a piece of him.
#jj maybank#outer banks#jj mayback x reader#obx#jj maybank prompt#jj mayback imagine#sweetheart!reader
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Delirium Part 3/3 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️
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{Images are not my own}
Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. [Takes place during Iron Flame]
Warnings: morning after/aftercare, some angst, fluff, happy ending, Ridoc being a sweetheart, nothing particularly explicit, swearing
Part 1/3 - Part 2/3
Authors Note: This final part made my heart ache writing it, but honestly? I absolutely love how it came out. Thanks for showing this mini-series some love! Now that it's over let me know if you'd like to be added to either of my other taglists. I've got two; All Ridoc Fics and my ongoing fic, Surface Tension's. Either message me or comment! Thank you again, it's nice to have my writing shown some love! :)
Word Count: 2,606
Ridoc’s POV
My body ached, and I nearly groaned and stretched, until I felt the weight resting on my arm. Memories from last night crashed through me, blurry and confused due to the alcohol, but when I opened my eyes to confirm them I froze. Y/N was here. She was really fucking here. Looking divine and sleeping like the dead, makeup smeared over her face and my pillows, and head resting peacefully on my arm while she was huddled in the sheets. Good thing too, because there were scattered piles of fucking snow around the room, letting me know just how thoroughly I’d lost my control last night.
You know… Aotrom’s voice rang through my head, teasing and I fought back a groan at whatever smart-ass statement he was about to make.
“Not now Aotrom.” I snapped and he chuffed, but for once quieted as he felt my quickly rising panic.
Not because I regretted anything. Fuck no, I would never regret a single thing about what happened last night. But I knew she would. She was the one who’d run away every time things got too real. She was the one who’d be eye-fucking me one minute and then reminding me, painfully, the next minute that we were just friends. Friends who had now crossed that line and…fuck, just how many marks did I leave on the poor girl?
My eyes washed over her after lifting the sheets gently, and guilt consumed me. Bruises on her hips and ass in the shape of fingertips, bite marks on the top of her perfect fucking breasts and along her neck, hickies covering her from her neck down to her thighs. And gods, her collarbone was deep fucking purple where I remember making my claim on her last night. A moment of particularly eager loss of control where all I could fucking cling to was the thought of making her mine.
Well fuck.
I let out a breathy sigh, and gently pulled my arm from beneath her. She didn’t even stir. My heart ached. Sure, I liked fooling around as much as the next rider. Being always on the cusp of death made one eager to enjoy what life they did have, but this was different.
She was different.
I would gladly give it all up for her, to be able to call her mine. To hold her, love her, absolutely fucking worship her like the goddamn princess she is. One more glance over and I decided. If she was gonna run from me anyway, I would at least make sure she was taken care of first.
It was gonna take a little field trip first though. Let’s just hope he was awake.
Y/N's POV
My muscles ached, my head pounded, everything outside the blankets was freezing, I felt oddly empty, and unconsciousness pulled at me to stay under in it’s tight embrace. Warmth ran along my hips, trying to coax me awake, but I grumbled into the pillows and snuggled deeper, the scent of the unfamiliar bedding soothing me.
I don’t care who’s bed I was in. They could fucking wait for me to be ready to wake up.
I don’t know how long I had fallen back into unconsciousness, probably seconds, but when I awoke, warmth and wetness was running along my aching core and I halfheartedly swatted it away.
“Ngh.” I whined, barely there.
“Princess, gotta let me clean you up okay?” A soothing voice muttered, carefully being quiet. Voice barely above a husky whisper, mindful of my hangover.
I knew that voice. Shit..I fucking know that voice, much too well. My eyes flew open, luckily the room was dark so I could see without adjusting, but I found him immediately. Ridoc.
Shit.
Shit.
SHIT.
He grinned sheepishly up at me, where he was sitting on the end of the bed, wet rag in hand, and cleaning up between my thighs. The events from last night crashed through me, overwhelming me.
How did I actually let this happen? Even with the alcohol?
Fantasies are one thing, fantasies are safe. Fantasies don’t throw wrenches into friendships and throw the easy dynamic of our squad to the fucking wind. Tears pricked my vision, emotion overwhelming me and Ridoc cursed.
“Shit, Y/N, are you hurt?” I met his panicked gaze and my heart ached. I was full on sobbing now, everything too much. I couldn’t even tell him that no, my body ached (deliciously) but I wasn’t hurt. I’d just ruined fucking everything. No big deal right? I shook my head as that’s all I could manage.
“Hey? Hey? Okay.” He threw the rag to the side before scooping me up and pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve got you. Just let it out. I’m here.” He cradled me tightly, my face buried in his bare chest as I sobbed. His hand threaded through my hair, holding me secure and his other arm wrapped around my back, cradling me gently. I flashed back to how he’d held me last night, just like this, like something breakable as he’d pounded into me. I sobbed harder.
“I…ruined….everything!” I wailed and he stiffened, but then continued running his fingers along my scalp.
“No. Princess, shh. Nothing is ruined.” He whispered, voice gentle, and so sure of himself that I had to pull back and examine his face. He was carefully neutral, and so serious that it threw me off, making me stop sobbing immediately. Not a hint of a smirk or playfulness. Nothing.
I’d only seen him this serious one other time. When we learned that Violet had been lying to us and keeping secrets. He’d been so hurt that she hadn’t trusted us. He ranted for days about it when it was just us.
“Yes it is-“ I tried and he shook his head, eyes narrowing on me.
“It’s only ruined if we let it be.” He assured, gulping as I realized he was lightly trembling. Was he…nervous? Scared? He wiped the tears off my face and sighed, like he was trying to get the weight of the world off his chest. “You can walk right out that door now and pretend that nothing happened if that’s what you want. I can handle our friends. No one will say a fucking word if that’s what you need. Just…please…don’t think you’ve ruined anything.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. Open. Close. Open. Close. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? Did I want to leave?
‘…if that’s what you want?’
What the fuck did that mean? My head swam, aching, and not in a good way.
“What…what do you want?” I asked, voice small. It was a question I’d been wanting to ask for weeks. Months if I was going to really be honest with myself.
He froze beneath me, as still as the little animal figurines he’d make for me when he was bored. The ones made of permafrost that I’d kept safely tucked away in the back of my wardrobe, the coldest part of my room. I looked up to his face again and he was biting his lip, terror in his gaze. I realized it then.
He hadn’t expected me to ask. That much was obvious. My heart broke as I realized he’d really expected me to run. To throw what happened last night away, chalk it up to a lapse in judgement, and try to forget about it. He hadn’t predicted I’d ask him what he wanted, that I’d care enough to ask.
But I couldn’t just throw last night away without at least asking him. Sure, it was easily the greatest sex of my life…but it was more than that too. The tender seconds, thrown in amongst intense pleasure? The way it was so mind altering, not because of what he was doing, but because it was him. The way he’d reduced me to absolute, fucking, delirium where all I could comprehend was Ridoc? No. It didn’t matter if my instinct was to run, to forget everything, to laugh it off and ignore our friends teasing until they eventually forgot about it too.
I knew with aching clarity that I would never be able to.
I had to stop running from him.
I had to put myself at his mercy if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with the constant question of what could have been.
He was quiet, until he shook his head lightly, making my heart stop and fear clutched my throat, choking me. “I can’t…”
“I can’t tell you what I want.” His words were whispers as his thumb ran along my jaw, eyes anywhere but meeting my own. His eyes finally found the courage to meet mine and they went soft. “Don’t look at me like that.” He laughed, short and hollow, the sound suspiciously resembling my previous sobs.
“I can’t tell you because then I’ll never be able to let you go. To let you walk away and protect your heart how you need to. I can’t tell you because then last night was real, not alcohol induced horniness. Not a mistake. Not two friends dancing over the line of being something more.” Frustration creeped into his voice and I clung tighter to him as he fucking glared at me now. “I can’t tell you because I know with fucking certainty that you’re gonna decide to throw me away like everyone else does. And if I let myself be vulnerable for a fucking second it will destroy me Y/N. You will destroy me. So no, I won’t tell you what I want. I’ll wait for you to tell me what it is you want and do whatever I need to with whatever you give me.”
My heart raced at the painful truth in his words. The following words left my mouth with aching certainty before I could even think them.
“I want you Ridoc Gamlyn.” He froze, the anger that had crept up gone, and his mouth fell open in shock. I continued, “I can’t pretend. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just…I’m sorry for crying…for scaring you…I just, I woke up and I remembered and I thought that you’d hate me for what we’d done. Or that I’d let feelings get involved and I’d have to watch you just…I don’t know…move to the next pretty face…and I’d have to bitterly watch and pretend to be happy for you…and it would just ruin everything with the squad…and fuck this is all hurting my head too much Ridoc.” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks and Ridoc sighed.
A small smile creeped on his face as he wiped away my tears again. “I knew you liked me.” Then his grin was teasing, and my heart lurched.
My Ridoc was back, sitting underneath me, quickly beginning to grin like a fool. Eyes drinking me in so warmly that I had to hide my face in his chest to cover the heat creeping up my cheeks. I squealed in surprise when he suddenly lifted me, and erupted in giggles when he gently plopped me back down on his pillows.
“Ridocccc.” I groaned, shooting him heatless daggers as he went back to where he’d been between my legs when I’d first woken up. He laughed and picked up a small tub of what looked like some sort of tincture. In fact he had a few different unlabeled containers piled to the side on his bed as well as a fresh set of sweatpants that I recognized as my own. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you Princess. After care is important, I know it’s a little…delayed…but I’m still a gentlemen.” He flashed me a grin, before gently tossing a water canister next to me, within reach. “And I feel a little bad, I was a little…eager…to finally get my hands on you.”
“I remember.” I giggled and he laughed, gesturing with a nod and an absent hand wave to look at myself. I did, my eyes widening before warmth crept between my thighs. Remembering just how good it had felt when he’d made the dozens of marks that now covered my body. My thighs clenched at the memory and he laughed, lighthearted, despite the satisfied smirk on his face.
“You should see your neck, if you think that's bad.” He chuckled, before opening the little tub in his hands. “Drink your water. Bodhi leant me this bruise cream-“
“Bodhi? Why does Bodhi have bruise cream laying about?” I asked incredulously and his ears turned light pink.
“Dude’s into some kinky shit…anyway-“
“Why do you know that?!” I asked and Ridoc sighed, looking anywhere but my face as he began rubbing the cream on my skin, and I couldn’t help but relax at the soothing warmth.
“Just drink your water woman. Goddamn…too early for so many questions.” I hummed in response to his embarrassed mutters, but my throat was scratchy and water sounded amazing.
So I sipped the water, as Ridoc gently massaged the tincture into my skin. I relished in his touch and then he was slipping a fresh pair of panties and the pants onto my hips. Then he moved upwards, straddling my waist as he applied more tincture.
We didn’t speak, didn’t really need to, as I watched him with affection in my gaze. He’d gently kiss over some marks, soothing almost as well as the tincture would. When he was finished he slipped one of his own shirts over my shoulders, the fabric soft, and practically drowning me in its size. It smelled so much like him though that I couldn’t complain.
And then he was cleaning off my makeup after grabbing another container, that I finally recognized as my cleanser. He didn’t stop there though, applying my moisturizer and spf as well, nearly bringing tears to my eyes as my chest filled with emotion. He handed me a muffin without a word; blueberry and dusted with sugar on top, my favorite, before sitting me up and beginning to gently comb through my hair. He pulled it into a haphazard ponytail before slipping out from behind me as I munched on the muffin, thankful that the churning that had begun in my stomach lessened. He then moved around me, grabbed my boots, and sank to his knees in front of me, making my heart race.
“We going somewhere?” I asked softly and he nodded, a pout covering his lips.
“As much as I’d like to keep you locked in here all day, doing everything that I’m now allowed to do to you…” His gaze heated for a moment before he gave me a single peck on the lips, sighing sadly, “Our friends haven’t seen us since last night, its nearly lunch hour, and you need something more than a muffin to get your energy back.”
I whined, wanting his lips back and he chuckled, giving in and giving me one more chaste kiss before working on my boots. Slipping socks on, then tugging the boots on and deftly tying the laces. Then he was off me completely, and pulling his own shirt on, much to my dismay.
“If we have to.” I pouted as I stood, immediately falling back down again. The ache between my thighs catching me off guard and causing Ridoc to laugh. “What did you do to me?!”
“Don’t worry Y/N,” He teased, pulling me up into his arms. “I’ve got you."
@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @the-lake-is-calling - I hope I got everyone, if I missed you I'm sorry!
#ridoc gamlyn x reader#ridoc x reader#ridoc and aotrom#ridoc gamlyn#ridoc fourth wing#ridoc smut#iron flame#fourth wing#onyx storm#ridoc#fanfic#morning after#fluff#fourth wing fluff
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The Leafs Legacy - Auston Matthews
Okay, so @tonyspep you gave me the sweetest idea with your comment! I know you were hoping for a more gentle Auston teaching his daughter to skate, but I thought the first game could be way more exciting! Hope you still love this take though!
So, here's daddy Auston being the proudest coach at his baby girl's first game. A few Leaf players make an appearance too. It's all about the fluff and cuteness! I just needed to write something like this today to make myself smile, and I hope it does the same for you! 💕 For more fun: masterlist❤️
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The arena buzzed with excitement—a lively mix of proud parents, devoted fans, and an entire section filled with Toronto Maple Leafs players, all gathered to witness history: the very first game of the newly established Leafs Girls' Program. And at the heart of it all, standing tall behind the bench in his team-issued jacket, was Auston Matthews—head coach of the future generation of hockey stars.
You still remember the promise Auston made when Clara was born. At the time, you thought he was joking about starting a Maple Leafs girls’ team, but that stubborn fool never let it go. For nearly a year, he hounded the directors and senior managers, relentless in his mission. You’re pretty sure they only gave in just to stop him from spamming their inboxes with proposals and cornering them with passionate speeches. But now, seeing the pride in his eyes as he watched his team, you knew—he had won.
From the stands, you held little Auston Jr. close, his tiny Maple Leafs onesie making him look impossibly adorable. At just three months old, he had no clue what was going on, but nestled in your arms, surrounded by the bright lights and the roar of the crowd, he was completely content. And in that moment, so were you.
You and Auston had talked about having more kids after Clara turned one, but life didn’t unfold as expected. Months turned into years, and despite your best efforts, nothing happened. Eventually, you both quietly let the topic go. But then, just as you were getting ready to settle into your life as a family of three, at nearly 36 years old, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—a miracle.
When you told Auston, he cried like a baby, overwhelmed by emotion. And to be honest, you were a hot mess too, crying and laughing at the same time.
You may not have ended up with enough kids to fill a hockey team, but you were surrounded by love—cherished by your little ones, who meant the world to you. The small moments of chaos and laughter, the sleepy snuggles, and the endless hugs were all you needed. And as for Auston, he never let you forget, that he was right about one thing: you were an absolute smoke show MILF.
But then, your attention naturally shifted. You glanced over at the ice, where Clara stood, her little figure tiny against the rink. She wore an oversized Leafs jersey, her pink and purple helmet snug on her head, and her tiny hands gripped her stick with surprising confidence. She looked so small out there, but the look in her eyes? That was all Auston. You could see the fire, the determination—just like her dad. In that moment, you knew she was going to make her own mark, and maybe even take after her father in more ways than one.
Auston paced behind the girls on the bench, hands on his hips, barking out encouragement like he was coaching a Stanley Cup Final.
Mitch, sitting right next to you, burst into laughter, nudging William. "Oh my god, look at him," he snorted. "He’s gonna lose his mind before the game’s even over."
William grinned, shaking his head. "I’ve never seen him this hyped, and we’ve played playoff games with him."
The rest of the guys joined in, chuckling at Auston’s visible excitement. Your heart swelled with warmth. You knew how deeply Auston loved his team, so seeing them here—supporting him, even if they were absolutely going to tease him about this later—meant the world to him.
You laughed along with them, bouncing little Auston Jr. in your arms. "He’s ridiculous," you said, shaking your head. "But you all know you’re going to be just as bad in about two seconds." You shot them a teasing grin, but Mitch and William both shook their heads in disbelief, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.
And sure enough, the game finally started.
"Alright, ladies! Keep your sticks down, eyes on the puck! Clara, get ready!" Auston called out.
Clara looked back at her dad, giving him a firm nod before turning her attention to the faceoff. You couldn’t help but smile—she was only five, yet she carried herself with the same intensity Auston did before a big game.
The puck dropped, and the game was on.
Clara skated forward, her tiny legs working overtime as she chased after the puck. The other girls scrambled in every direction, but somehow, she managed to gain control. She took a few unsteady strides before taking what could only be described as the most adorable shot attempt ever. It wasn’t the hardest shot, and it wobbled a bit, but it went straight into the tiny net.
The arena erupted into cheers.
Auston lost his mind.
"YES, CLARA! THAT’S MY GIRL!" he shouted, jumping up and down. He turned to the Leafs players in the stands, waving his arms wildly. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! GOAL SCORER GENES!"
And as you predicted, Mitch and Willy shot up from their seats, cheering like maniacs.
"Future first-liner!" Mitch called out, clapping his hands.
McMann grinned and joined in. "She’s got her dad’s shot. Go, Clara baby!"
You shook your head, laughing as Auston continued his excited antics on the bench. Clara, meanwhile, looked up at her dad, her little face beaming with pride beneath her helmet.
She skated back to the bench, nearly tripping in her excitement, and Auston scooped her up the second she reached him. He lifted her high in the air, twirling her around.
"You did it, baby girl! First goal of many!"
Clara giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. "Did you see, Daddy? I scored!"
"I saw!" he beamed, pressing a kiss to her helmet. "And I think that means ice cream after the game. What do you think?"
Clara gasped, her little eyes going wide. "With sprinkles?!"
"With all the sprinkles in the world," Auston promised, setting her back down on the ice. "Now go get another one, superstar."
She grinned and skated off, ready for her next shift.
Back in the stands, you turned to the guys beside you, only to find them still on their feet, cheering as if Clara had just won the Cup.
Mitch was cupping his hands around his mouth. "SIGN HER TO AN ELC RIGHT NOW!"
William was whistling, and Bobby nodded approvingly. "She’s a natural."
You smirked. "And here I thought Auston was the only one who’d lose his mind over this."
Mitch turned to you, completely serious. "Are you kidding? That was ELITE."
William grinned. "We should be scouting her already."
You just shook your head, laughing as they continued their proud-uncle act. Meanwhile, Auston stood at the bench, hands on his knees, grinning from ear to ear as he watched his daughter—eyes filled with pride—like she had just scored the game-winning goal in the Stanley Cup Final.
Little Auston Jr. stirred in your arms, and you glanced down at him, brushing a soft kiss against his tiny forehead. "Looks like you’ve got some big skates to fill, little guy."
The game continued, filled with more adorable chaos, but in that moment—watching your husband on the bench, your daughter on the ice, and your newborn son in your arms—you knew one thing for sure.
This was happiness. This was everything you had ever dreamed of—and more.
Note: ELC = Entry-Level Contract. An ELC is the standard contract given to rookie players entering the NHL, typically when they're signing their first contract after being drafted.
#toronto maple leafs#auston matthews fic#auston matthews imagine#auston matthews x reader#Auston Matthews x you#nhl fic#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#auston matthews blurb#am34#auston matthews
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BEGIN AGAIN SETH JARVIS
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pairing: seth jarvis x fem!reader
summary: still scarred from your last relationship, you agree to go on a blind date and find yourself drawn to seth who reminds you that love doesn’t have to be painful.
warnings: mentions of a controlling/manipulative ex, reader being kinda insecure because of that
wc: 2.28k
notes: based on 'begin again' by taylor swift. so i wrote half of this last year and then gave up and then found it again! i don’t know
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Looking at your reflection in the mirror of the sun visor of your car, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh. Despite the passed time, the wounds still felt fresh, the echoes of your past relationship lingering like smoke that refused to clear. You'd ended things eight months ago, walking away from fights that never resolved, from endless suspicions, and from a love that had twisted into something suffocating. Yet here you were, still carrying the weight of it all, the shadows of manipulation casting doubt over your future.
It was strange, almost cruel, how perfect he had seemed when you first met. Charming, attentive, and endlessly kind, he made you feel like you were the center of his universe. Those early days were painted with laughter and thoughtful gestures—flowers just because, long conversations where he seemed genuinely captivated by every word you spoke, and an uncanny ability to make you feel safe. You'd thought you’d found it — the elusive, storybook love.
But as time passed, the cracks began to show. Subtle at first, like a chill creeping into a warm room. His concern for your whereabouts turned into relentless questioning. His compliments, once sweet and affirming, grew barbed with hidden expectations. "You should wear this," he’d say, the suggestion laced with quiet judgment. He began isolating you, painting your friends as distractions and your ambitions as threats to your relationship. And somehow, little by little, you found yourself shrinking, folding yourself into the shape he demanded, just to keep the peace.
Even now, the memory of it made your chest tighten. You hated that his voice still lingered in your mind, sowing doubt just as you were meeting someone new. What if every man was like him beneath the surface? What if you were destined to be trapped in that same cycle, no matter how hard you tried to escape? The thought was enough to keep you rooted in this lonely limbo, terrified to step forward.
You closed the sun visor with a snap, forcing yourself back into the present. Not tonight. You weren’t going to let his memory ruin tonight.
Tonight was supposed to be a step forward, however small. Your friends had practically dragged you into this date, swearing up and down that the guy was different — kind, funny, and refreshingly normal. They'd given you the classic pep talk: You deserve to be happy. Not every guy is going to be like him. You have to let someone in eventually. You had rolled your eyes at their clichés, but a small part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they were right.
You took a steadying breath, resting your hands on the steering wheel. The truth was, you didn't need this guy to be perfect. You didn't even need sparks or butterflies or some grand romantic epiphany tonight. You just needed him not to be him. That was the bare minimum you were willing to hope for right now.
And if he was kind, if he was genuine, if he listened without judgment — that would be a bonus. Maybe you wouldn’t fall in love tonight. Maybe this would end in polite smiles and a handshake at the end of the night. But wasn't that better than sitting in your car, haunted by the past?
“You’re not the same person anymore,” you whispered to your reflection, your voice soft but resolute. “You know what love isn't. And you won't let anyone make you feel small again.”
It was a promise. Not to the date, not even to your friends, but to yourself.
You pushed open the door of your car, the cool evening air spreading across your exposed legs allowing your heartbeat to slow to a normal rhythm. You approached the entrance of the restaurant, pausing as you gripped the door handle, heart thudding like a hesitant drumbeat.
The voice in your head whispered once more: What if this goes wrong too?
But tonight, you weren’t going to listen.
You pushed open the door, the soft chime announcing your arrival. Warmth enveloped you immediately, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The hostess greeted you with a polite smile, but you barely registered her as your eyes scanned the room. For a moment, fear gripped you — what if Seth wasn’t here? What if this was all just another disappointment waiting to unfold?
But then you spotted him.
Seth was sat at a table by the windows, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the candlelight. He was leaning slightly forward, fingers absently tracing the edge of his water glass as he glanced around the room. His dark hair was tousled in a way that suggested a hurried hand through it rather than meticulous grooming. There was something inherently relaxed about him, a stark contrast to the rigid expectations you'd grown accustomed to.
Relief mingled with surprise. He was on time.
You hadn’t realized how much that simple fact mattered until now. Your ex had always been late, offering flimsy excuses that eventually unraveled into truths you hadn’t wanted to see. Lateness had become a symbol of disregard, a subtle reminder that you were never quite enough to command his full attention.
But Seth was here, waiting for you.
You inhaled deeply, straightening your shoulders. This wasn’t the past. This was now.
“Welcome,” the hostess said, pulling you back to the present. “Are you meeting someone?”
“Yes,” you managed, your voice steadier than you expected. “By the windows.”
She nodded and led you through the softly lit dining room. As you approached, Seth glanced up, and a smile broke across his face — easy, genuine, and warm. He stood up, smoothing down the front of his shirt, raising his hand and offering a small wave, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Hey,” he said. He had a slight nervous energy, as if he’d been wondering if you’d show. That vulnerability made something inside you loosen, the tight knot of apprehension unraveling just a bit.
“Hi,” you replied, your lips curving into a tentative smile.
He pulled out your chair, a simple but thoughtful gesture that caught you off guard. You’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated with care rather than obligation. As you sat down, he returned to his seat, his gaze never wavering from you.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly, almost like it was a thought that slipped out before he could catch it.
A warmth crept up your neck. Compliments had always felt like weapons in the past, loaded with expectations or barbed with ulterior motives. But Seth’s words carried none of that weight. They felt simple and sincere, like a genuine observation rather than a demand for your approval.
“Thanks,” you said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing as though you’d cracked the ice that had been lingering between you. The tension in the air softened, giving way to an easy, tentative curiosity. This wasn’t a battlefield; it was just two people sharing a meal, and that realization was a relief.
The waitress arrived, handing you menus and reciting the specials before retreating, leaving the two of you enveloped in the soft hum of the restaurant. The candle flickered between you, its warm light casting shadows across the table.
“So,” Seth began, leaning forward with a smile, “do you want to start with the big questions or ease in with something light?”
You laughed, the sound surprising even yourself. “What’s a big question?”
“Favorite dinosaur. It’s a make-or-break topic, really.”
“Stegosaurus,” you answered without hesitation.
“Solid choice,” he nodded approvingly. “But I’m gonna have to go with Triceratops. It’s got the perfect balance of cool factor and functionality.”
“I respect that.” You grinned. “We can stay friends.”
He tapped his glass with mock relief. “Thank God. I was worried this was going to be a disaster.”
The conversation flowed from there, naturally and without pretense. You talked about work, favorite childhood memories, and shared pet peeves. There was an ease to it all, as though you’d known each other longer than just tonight.
At one point, the topic shifted to music. Seth’s eyes lit up as he described his favorite records, and you found yourself matching his enthusiasm.
“I have a bit of a vinyl addiction,” you admitted, sipping your drink. “I probably have way too many James Taylor records.”
“Wait,” he said, setting down his fork. “How many is ‘way too many’?”
You shrugged. “Like… fifteen?”
His jaw dropped in playful disbelief. “Fifteen? That’s wild. I don’t think I’ve ever met another person with that many James Taylor records. I have ten, and I thought that was obsessive.”
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet someone who gets it,” you teased.
The waitress returned with your meals, and as you began eating, Seth launched into stories from his childhood. He spoke with vivid detail about growing up with his brother, recounting wild adventures that had you laughing until tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You told him about work and your hobbies, Seth listened with genuine attentiveness and interest in your stories. Slowly, the layers of doubt that had been cast by your ex began to peel away. Every little chuckle he gave out after a joke drowned out the memories of your ex’s cynical laugh.
Suddenly the night had flown by, Seth kindly paying for dinner, and now he was insisting on walking you to your car as you had to park a couple blocks down. His genuine concern was a stark difference from your ex's callous indifference.
As you strolled beneath the city lights, admiring the trees lining the street with Christmas lights woven between branches, Seth brought up the Christmas movies he and his family would watch every year. You found your mind once again comparing the toxicity of your ex to Seth, who had just about changed your opinion about men. Before you nearly brought him up, Seth pulled you back to the moment.
“Every year on Christmas Eve we watch the original How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Like the animated one.” He tells you, a pure and childlike smile tugging on his lips.
You smiled back, a warmth in your heart you had forgotten was something you could experience. The night had been a stark departure from the toxic patterns of your past. As the pair of you approached your car, you finally felt the tightness in your chest subsiding, any feelings of what once was gone now.
Seth paused by your car, his breath visible in the crisp night air. The city hummed softly around you, the distant sound of car horns mingling with laughter from nearby restaurants. He shifted on his feet, the faint glow of the streetlights catching the warmth in his eyes.
“I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his voice low but sincere.
“So did I,” you admitted, the honesty rolling off your tongue without hesitation. “I wasn’t sure I was ready for this, but… tonight was good. Really good.”
His smile widened, his relief evident. "That makes me happy to hear." He hesitated, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "And, hey, no pressure or anything, but I'd love to see you again.”
The vulnerability in his voice hung between you, delicate yet inviting. For a moment, you were silent, the weight of your past teetering on the edge of your thoughts. But tonight had been different—a beginning rather than a replay of old wounds.
You glanced up at Seth, his hopeful expression etched with authenticity, and your heart made the choice your mind had been too cautious to consider.
"I'd like that too," you said softly, a smile forming without resistance.
His face lit up, and the sight stirred something gentle and warm inside you, like sunlight filtering through cracks in a wall you'd thought impenetrable. The breeze tugged at your hair, crisp and sharp, but you barely felt it with the warmth spreading through your chest.
He took a step closer, close enough that you could catch the faint scent of cedar and fresh soap lingering on him. "I’ll text you then. And I promise I’m not one of those ‘wait three days’ guys." His tone was playful, but there was a thread of earnestness beneath it.
You laughed, the sound unguarded. "Good. Because that rule is ridiculous."
He grinned, the kind that was contagious and disarming. "Agreed."
There was a beat of silence, the world around you quieting into something hushed and intimate. For the first time in a long time, the echoes of your past didn't press against your ribs, demanding to be heard. They had no place here, not in this moment, not with this man who stood in front of you without expectation or pretense.
"Drive safe," he said, stepping back but lingering as though reluctant to let the night end.
“Thank you, Seth.” you say softly.
Seth gave you a small wave before turning to walk back down the street, his figure illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights. For a long moment, you stood there, the world hushed and still. Your breath clouded in the frigid air, heart thrumming with a strange mix of peace and disbelief.
This wasn’t where you thought you'd end up eight months ago when everything had shattered. Back then, love had felt like a cruel joke — something that only broke, burned, and eventually ended. You’d sworn off the idea entirely, resigned to believe that its weight was always suffocating, its promises empty.
But tonight was proof that you’d been wrong.
Standing beneath the winter sky, you realized you'd just watched love begin again.
#seth jarvis#seth jarvis imagine#seth jarvis x reader#nhl#nhl imagine#hockey#hockey imagine#carolina hurricanes#`✦ˑ ✒️ 𓂃⊹ my works
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January 2025 FanFic✨
Welcome Everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted anything on Tumblr and for this year, I wanted to start posting more fanfic recommendations to share my love for the authors, instead of being in the shadows and for more people to enjoy them. I will try to post every month the fanfics that I've read (which hopefully I stick by 🤞🏼) but for January, I have mostly Jungkook fanfics so hopefully you enjoy the list and have found something you also love❤️
The majority of fics are 18+ so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Legend:
🦷-fluff
🔥-angst
🌶️-smut
👅-crack/funny
❣️-personal favourite
✍🏼-ongoing
JUNGKOOK
The Corporate Equation by @someonegoood 🦷🔥❣️✍🏼
-this is in a corporate setting with jungkook as the CEO and y/n as the head of HR. Grumpy x sunshine trope, but really cute because we get to see jungkook slowly but surely softening up to y/n no matter how hard they try to deny it🤭
Neighbor Blunder by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️✍🏼
-now listen to me, this is really good😭 I really love the dynamic between oc and Jungkook especially now with the new update👀 He's a gentleman, he doesn't beat around the bushes and sets his intentions straight to oc. I'm really excited about what happens next and will be lurking on AO3 for new updates because I cannot wait
ctrl+alt+delete by @muniimyg 🦷🔥🌶️👅
-obviously, I need to add in a social media au because they are really quick to read and this one is no exception. OC is an OF content creator and jungkook is a youtuber. Both of them are really funny and the interactions with their fans are really cute as well!
Playing the Part by @goldenchimmy 🌶️
-this was really good! it was such a nice build-up to the smut scene which is just perfection. Jungkook's such a gentleman and I need more of him please😭
True Love by @lovieku 🦷🔥🌶️
-this was really cute because OC's a simp for Jungkook and I would be too. It was also so heartwarming that they were able to find comfort within each other when OC would get panic attacks and show each other acts of love
The Love Prognosis by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️
-A fan favourite of course 🫶🏻 I related to this a lot (the unrequited love part😶) and just being there for the person you love even if they're not with you, but will ultimately hurt Jungkook in the process. highly recommend it if you haven't read this and the drabbles because they are also extremely fun to read!
Teach Me How To Love by @kookooluvr 🦷🔥🌶️✍🏼❣️
-Another fan favourite because it's just THAT good. everything's going good at the current update of them going to Jeju but I'm ready for the angst that's about to commence😭 Ultimately, I just want Jungkook to finally have his girl fr
The Farmhouse by @solecize 🦷🔥
-the plot was something different from the fics that I usually gravitate to in January. this is a friends to lovers, set in a small town where OC is restoring her grandpa's farm and she reunites with her childhood friend. I love every little aspect of this fic because it deals with grief, growing up, and love. I love the subtleness of Jungkook's love for OC in the beginning where he helps her out in the farm, but it slowly grows toward the end, this is just such a wholesome read!
YOONGI
Love & Lullabies by @ktownshizzle 🦷🔥🌶️
-DILF yoongi because it needs its own warninggg. this was also a really cute and heartwarming read. in every part I read, their love for each other just grows and grows. give this fic some love because you won't regret it!
NAMJOON
Empty Box by @moni-logues 🔥🌶️
-I had hope for the ending but alas this fic does not have a happy ending 🥹 this fic does contain infidelity which I would typically stay away from but I gave it a chance and wow. the writing is really beautiful and rich, you can feel the pain both Namjoon and OC go through throughout their journey which leaves you feeling like you've also gone through the waves of their relationship. The plot feels realistic which makes it 10 times more painful
SHORT FICS
satellite by @httpknjoon 🦷🔥
: Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.
Petals and Fists by @kissyforkoo 🦷🔥
: boxer!jk x florist!oc
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Sharing a Computer with More Friends
A few months ago I built an I/O expansion board for my homebrew 68030 project with a 4-port serial card to go with it, and got BASIC running for four simultaneous users. It worked, but not as well as I had hoped. I wanted to be able to run two of those serial cards to support 8 total users, but it had proven unstable enough that with just the one card I had to slow down the whole system to 8MHz.
So I designed a new serial card.
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I had previously been running this computer without any issues at 32MHz with a mezzanine card with FPU & IDE as well as a video card. The main board by itself can clear 56MHz. Having to go all the way down to 8MHz just didn't sit well with me. I want this machine to run as fast as possible for its 8 users.
I put extra time into reviewing worst-case timing for all components and graphing out how signals would propagate. The 16C554 quad UARTs I'm designing around are modern parts that can handle pretty fast bus speeds themselves — easily up to 50MHz with no wait states on the 68030 bus — assuming all the glue logic can get out of the way fast enough.
Signal propagation delays add up quickly.
My first draft schematic used discrete 74-series logic for chip selection, signal decoding, timing, etc. At slower bus speeds this wouldn't have been a problem. But I want this thing to run as fast as possible. By the time critical signals had made it through all those logic gates, I was looking at already being well into one wait state by the time the UART would see a 50MHz bus cycle begin.
I needed something faster. I was also running low on space on the board for all the components I needed. The obvious answer was programmable logic. I settled on the ATF22V10 as a good compromise of speed, size, availability, and programmability. It's available in DIP with gate delays down to 7ns. Where discrete gates were necessary, I selected the fastest parts I could. The final design I came up with showed a worst case timing that would only need one wait state at 50MHz and none for anything slower.
It ended up being a tight fit, but I was able to make it work on a 4-layer board within the same footprint of my main board, putting some components on the back side. (It may look like a bunch of empty space, but there's actually a lot going on running full RS232 with handshaking for 8 ports).
New problem. I had blown my budget for the project. As much as I love those stacked DE9 connectors, they're expensive. And there's no getting around the $10 pricetag for each of those quad UARTs. Even using parts on-hand where possible, I was looking at a hefty Mouser order.
[jbevren] suggested using ganged RJ45 connectors with the Cisco pinout instead of stacked DE9, to save space & cut costs. [Chartreuse] suggested buffering the TTL serial TX/RX signals to drive the LEDs that are frequently included on PCB-mount RJ45 connectors. Both great ideas. I was able to cut 20% off my parts order and add some nice diagnostic lights to the design.
Two weeks later, I received five new PCBs straight from China. I of course wasted no time setting into starting to assemble one.
I really set myself up for a challenge on this one. I learned to solder some 25 years ago and have done countless projects in that time. But I think this might be the most compact, most heavily populated, most surface mount board I've ever assembled myself. (There are 56 size 0805 (that's 2x1.2mm) capacitors alone!)
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After a few hours soldering, I had enough assembled to test the first serial port. If the first port worked then the other three on that chip should work too, and there's a great chance the other chip would work as well.
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And it did work! After some poking around with the oscilloscope to make sure nothing was amiss, I started up the computer and it ran just fine at 8MHz.
And at 16MHz.
And at 25MHz.
And at 32MHz.
And at 40MHz.
And almost at 50MHz!
Remember what I said about my timing graphs showing one wait state for 50MHz? The computer actually booted up and ran just fine at 50MHz. The problem was when I tried typing in a BASIC program certain letters were getting switched around, and try as I might, BASIC just refused to 'RQN' my program. It was pretty consistently losing bit 3, likely from that signal having to travel just a tiny bit farther than the others. A problem that will probably be resolved with an extra wait state.
Good enough for a first test! A few hours more and I finished assembling the card.
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I did have some problems with cleaning up flux off the board, and I had to touch up a few weak solder joints, but so far everything seems to be working. I've updated my little multi-user kernel to run all 8 users from this new card and it's running stable at 40MHz.
I need to update my logic on the 22V10 to fix a bug in the wait state generator. I would love to see this thing actually running at 50MHz — a 25% overclock for the 40MHz CPU I am currently running. I also want to expand my little kernel program to add some new features like the ability to configure the console serial ports and maybe even load programs from disk.
I hope to bring this machine with a collection of terminals and modems this June to VCF Southwest 2025 for an interactive exhibit that can be dialed into from other exhibits at the show.
#wrap030#multi-user BASIC#EhBASIC#homebrew computer#motorola 68030#68030#mc68030#motorola 68k#vcfsw#vcfsw2025#Retrocomputing#rtc#retrotech crew
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the other adachi bd/dvd-only anime scene
i think people have seen this one before? in the older p4 anime, there's a scene of adachi reading his letter from the true ending where he goes "yeah i lost" and talks about something bothering him about the case and where he first heard of the midnight channel:
i've noticed on reddit that that ppl dont realize this because of his golden social link, but adachi always sent you the letter even in the ps2 game. if you do his social link, then in golden, the letter continues and he talks about how he looks back on the time spent in the dojima house. hence, the original p4 anime only has him reading the lines about the investigation, while the golden anime only has him reading the part about being at the dojima house.
like the golden scene, this is also bd/dvd only, but for a totally different reason lol. p4 the anime has 26 episodes. in japan, only 25 episodes aired on tv with 25 being the good ending from the game. like, the investigation team defeats amenosagiri and captures adachi, then the anime just ends with yu leaving inaba. but after the credits, it shows igor in the velvet room, and he creates the orb of sight and talks about its ability to dispel lies. a person who has played the game and got the true ending would be like, "oh shit fr?"
a few months after the anime's tv airing finished, there was a limited run theatrical movie called "the factor of hope". if you've seen this art of yu, izanagi, and magatsu-izanagi, it was made for the movie!
the first hour or so is a recap of the anime and how the team came together and how adachi committed silly tv crimes. then after the yu defeats adachi, it cuts to content from the unaired 26th episode where adachi is in jail writing the letter. then yu goes on to fight izanami and unlocks the true ending, etc. volume 10 of the anime bd/dvd has the unaired episode.
the unaired stuff also includes adachi chugging canned coffee in casual clothes and getting the magic handshake.
i imagine some people dont know this since sentai's release of the anime in the states included the unaired 26th episode by default. i dont think they ever included the factor of hope (understandable tbh, it's really just a 1.5hr long recap lol.)
unrelatedly, its assumed sentai lost their license of the p4 anime in 2018 when it was removed from hulu so i think the first anime is always gonna be stuck in some kind of aniplex usa licensing hell.
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DWC Day 1 Hypnotic/Star
( This is a day late due to being sick, so please forgive the late entry. I wanted to write something a bit different for Dinthoqaf aside from the usual holier-than-thou gloating that he tends to do. Show a side of him that is so rarely seen by others despite the small slivers and glimpses that, I feel, offer a depth to his character that so many rarely ever have the opportunity to see, feel, or imagine. A side of him that helped me fall in love with him as a character and as his potential as one as he grows. I hope this small little piece, gives you all a glimpse of that too. I would also encourage you to listen to the link provided as I hope it sets the stage for later in the shift and it's the name of the musical piece that gave the inspiration that works so well for Day 1's word. )
Silvermoon City. Despite the name her streets, even at night, remained bright like the sun in which the distant well was named for. Tonight was no different as the Bazaar just on the other end of town was positively bursting to the brim with people for the holiday of love soon to come. 'Singles Awareness' as they called it, an event Dinthoqaf had walked through to find familiar faces down on their luck to see what was going on. His intention was not to find a suitor, no, he had a lover, that stroll was to simply take advantage of heartbreak if it was possible. That though, was behind him as he stood under one of the few lampposts in Murder Row. The street was empty, primarily due to the party and event in town, but that made no mind for Dinthoqaf.
No, tonight he waited, knowing full well Zalilirah would find him as she always did. The two of them were connected, linked, in a way that many poets wrote about, young men and women dreamed of, and older lovers hinted towards. Time had no bearing on their connection, nor did time or space, and when it was hinted upon, it always got the same laughter and response from those who never quite understood it all. Dinthoqaf couldn't blame them, it was beyond them, instead, he would take those moments to laugh because it was at times, beyond his grasp in understanding too.
"And do my eyes deceive me? Such a man, alone in this streets? It must be my lucky day..." Zalilirah, The Weaver.
Dinthoqaf was a man who wore a smile amongst many, no two ever the same, but the one that grew upon his face at the sound of her voice was solely for her and her alone. The two of them often met like this, one of them beating the other, catching up about their day, moving into cheeky banter or discussions on topics to come to pass before the night grew old and they would retire. Tonight's procession moved no differently.
Finally, at the turn of the clock at midnight, the two pause for the bells toll, listening before Dinthoqaf offers his arm, much as he always did. "Time for us to make our leave of this place, I think." And as usual, Zali was quick to slipe his own wrist through the loop provided as a void-like portal tore open before them for the two to depart The Row.
What came next wasn't their home though.
youtube
Planned, possibly for weeks, months, as materials were gathered, stars were studied, and astromancers and astrologers alike were consulted. Dinthoqaf's standard white, black, and golden attire fades, disappearing in a falling of dust just to unravel to expose a near identical copy of the first tailored suit Zalilirah had gotten him all those years ago when he led his kin from the Sunken Temple out into the world, to become the Headmaster of the Sanctum. Black tailored silks and wool adorned his features in the same quality she'd demand from any tailor with her own orders. His vest, a royal purple that shimmered atop a long tie of matching hues and a blackened button-up shirt to follow. Even the jewelry to adorn him was of polished silver and held amethyst stones that seemed to go far deeper than the settings they sat upon. Zalilirah herself was not spared in this as the mental picture of her came into play with his magics. Her dress, as elegant as she loved them to be, began to fall away only to be replaced with the same violet hues that were akin to Dins own. Silver threads weaving intricately with the care that came at no expense saved to make sure she got exactly what he remembered her in all those years ago when they had been sworn to one another. Her Defiler and his Weaver. Her hair swirled and moved, lifting from her neck and curling as various silver strands and gems appointed themselves atop her crown and features.
No words were needed, there never really were, only moments to fill the silence to distract themselves from the evening's affairs, but now, they were as far away from them as... Well. Azeroth itself.
Beneath their feet where there should have been the stonework of their home and portal way, was now a vast emptiness of The Great Beyond. Azeroth pulls away as Dinthoqaf offers over a bare hand for her to take.
Each step either would make causes ripples, akin to water, to run across the surface they stood upon. Planets, foreign or known and seen, pull through the scenery as he smiles at her. There was no one else in all the rest of the world that mattered at this moment but the woman he put an arm around. Their steps begin as their bodies shift and spin and in a few simple steps, they dance.
Suns flare with light on some distant horizon in the Great Beyond as Nebula's wink, gas giants and clouds spin and flutter, eaten and devoured by black holes, and amongst it all, the only star he could be bothered with noticing was the one he held in his hands at this moment. Their motions come as a rogue comet flies by, her frame losing golden dust and sediment across the dancefloor that swirls and twists about their feet that soon spins off into the cosmos beyond. Then, as the night begins to wrestle into the wee hours of the morning. The stars too begin to fade and all goes dark as a singular star offers its last breaths of light upon the two of them.
Worlds would burn or drown before he would let her go.
( @zalilirah for obvious reasons )
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#vampire hunter d#vhd#art#wip#sketch#I had a medieval illumination adjacent idea that I wanted to get out so I did 💖 ~( ˘ᴗ ˘ ๑~)#I have two other sketch ideas depends and me showing them publicly depends on few factors... So they may not be seen any time soon#enjoy this one in the mean time !! 🥹🥹💖💖#I found out about the mixer brush recently I'm going to try incorporating/experimenting with it for future paintings#also fyi I've been slowly gathering myself to get some sort of print shop going#I hope to have something to show by the end of the month!#( If I don't you're allowed to bully me 🗿💔💔)
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walter white from breaking bad
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Walter Hartwell White (Breaking Bad) is an Anime Girl!
#my name is walter hartwell white. i live at 308 negra arroyo lane albuquerque new mexico 87104. this is my confession. if youre watching thi#s tape im probably dead. murdered by my brother in law hank schrader. hank has been building a meth empire for over a year and using me as#is chemist. shortly after my 50th birthday hank came to me with a rather shocking proposition. he asked that i use my chemistry knowledge t#cook methamphetamine which he would then sell using his connections in the drug world. connections that he made through his career with the#DEA. i was... astounded. i always thought that hank was a very moral man and i was thrown. confused. but i was also particularily vulner#able at the time. something he knew and took advantage of. i was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. han#took me on a ride along and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make. and i was weak. i didnt want my family to#go into financial ruin so i agreed. every day i think back at that moment with regret. i quickly realized that i was in way over my head an#hank had a partner. a man named gustavo fring. a business man. hank essentially sold me into servitude to this man and when i tried to quit#fring threatened my family. i didnt know where to turn. eventually hank and fring had a falling out. from what i can gather hank was always#pushing for a greater share of the business to which fring flatly refused to give him and things escalated. fring was able to arrange uh i#uess you could call it a hit. on my brother in law. and failed but hank was seriously injured. and i ended up paying his medical bills whic#amounted to a little over 177000. upon recovery hank was bent on revenge working with a man named hector salamanca. he plotted to kill frin#and did so. in fact the bomb that he used was built by me and he gave me no option in it. i have often contemplated suicide but i am a cowa#d. i wanted to go to the police but i was frightened. hank had risen in the ranks to become head of the DEA and about that time to keep me#n line he took my children. for 3 months he kept them.my wife who up until that point had no idea of my criminal activities was horrified t#learn what i had done. why hank had taken our children. we were scared. i was in hell i hated myself for what i had brought upon my family.#recently i tried once again to quit to end this nightmare and in response he gave me this. i cant take this anymore. i live in fear every#ay that hank will kill me or worse hurt my family. i... all i could think to do was make this video in hope that the world will finally see#this man for what he really is.#breaking bad#walter white#your fave is an anime girl#your fave is#hall of fame
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( waking up one morning after 18 months of hiatus and finally getting the spark™ to freshen up ur rp blog )
#( war is oveeeer )#( time passes but my love for rp is like a little gremlin that randomly shows up and beats me with its lil bat )#( I'm still stuggling with art block for my other creative outlets for months now but I want to warm up my writing fingers )#FOR ALL ( ooc. )#FOR ALL ( tbd. )#( pretty sure I've been going through the worst burn out of my life and im just now seeing the end of the tunnel )#( had to face and address basically everything in my life ever so my brain just decided to go into low battery mode for awhile )#( it's odd cause not much about my life is significantly different from when I left -unfortunately-#but I have also developed and changed so much as a person. ppl around me say that and it's so reassuring to hear <3 )#( also lmao apparently I was pretty Vitamin D deficient esp in Canadian winters and APPARENTLY have a genetic calcium deficiency so UHHHHH#I love being medically neglected and gaslit into believing I just had anxiety and depression with no physical contributors <33#that's being taken care of now tho. but yeah ugh that was something to process too.)#That aside I've been doing well!! I'm in such a different place now it's kind of wild. Always a work in progress but im happy <3#Have some goals I'd like to meet for the end of the year so I'm hoping to close out these two years on a good note!
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