#and neither one are angsty!
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Quite curious to why you thought that Ink's dads were a diservice to his character in the first place lmao
man I don't even knooooow???? (´;ω;`)
I think I was just really up my own ass and that 1) i forgot that my interpretation of ink isn't the popular one, and basically no one knew of him. and that 2) I forgot I didn't create him lol.......
I was like 'him having dads doesn't make sense cuz he's supposed to be lonely' and like. no man.... u didn't make him what do u mean 'supposed to'.......
probably also bcuz I was pretty salty that a selfcest ship (<- something that makes me MAD uncomfortable) was canon to my special interest, and coming across something that makes me mad when I'm just trying to enjoy my interest pissed me off (。ノω\。)
but honestly every other point I made was kinda stupid lmao..... like it was my first ever L........
#got into arguments with strangers over it. it was crazy.#I remember replying to each of them at like 4 am half awake barely knowing what I was typing.#but also like. it did rise an interesting point.#someone told me that ink's dads are actually important because they're the ones that made her love again.#and when I asked 'why the hell is he cured of his soullessness now???'#someone else told me that he didn't actually love them and apparently it was this super sad thing that he didn't love them back and...#it's SO exhausting. ink just CANNOT have a relationship with ANYBODY without the authors being like-#'but he can't love them!!!! isn't it sad that he can't love omg he can't feel love so angsty!!!!'#who CAAAAAARES if he doesn't love them back omg.... ink cares about those two old geezers enough to consider them his DADS.#but people just can't stop dragging around his 'condition' for cheap angst my gad.....#ink sans#🖍️#💌#it's kinda crazy that u never hear this 'he can't love them back' argument when he's being shipped with the new sans of the week 😗#but that's neither here nor there.....
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You know what I would love to see more of? Reincarnation AUs where the original piece of media is acknowledged. Like, “we were the characters in [whatever] in a past life” reincarnation AUs.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen this done, and that’s a shame. Depending on what direction you choose to take it in, this has untapped humour potential AND untapped angst potential!
“So you’re telling me that movie - ”
“BOOK! IT WAS A BOOK FIRST!”
“Right… that was our past life?”
“Yes! And I can’t believe I’m in love with someone who watched the film before reading the book!”
“…That’s… not too crazy, I guess… Wait, you’re in love with me?”
OR
“I remember everything and my boyfriend doesn’t, I’m so happy we found each other, but… what if he reads the book? What if he finds out what kind of person I was? How will he still be able to love me if he reads about what I did to him, about how much I hurt him and others, when he did nothing wrong and loved me unconditionally? What if he can’t? I love him so much, I wish I’d realised that in our past life…”
Why isn’t this more of a thing??
#reincarnation#reincarnation au#fanfic#and if you know me then you know the second one is#dasil#keeping it vague for my tumblr mutual and IRL friend who is reading the book because of me#Sam if you’re reading the tags then look away now! Spoilers ahead!#the paragraph from option 2 (the angsty one) is Dorian’s point of view#and of course he’s talking about the murder#and Basil has yet to remember his past life#alternatively: a funny twist#he DOES remember#they both remember and neither of them want to bring it up because they’re worried about upsetting each other#at some point one of them says something by accident and the other is like ‘‘YOU REMEMBER TOO??’’#the dialogue from option 1 isn’t anything specific#so it’s whatever you want
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....
You're gonna regret that later.
You're gonna regret it BIG TIME.
-📖🔨

I’m fearing for my fucking life right now, and I do not need you adding to that. 5 minutes. 5 minutes of you being normal or helpful, please.
#ask book simon#cof roleplay#cof ask blog#cof#book simon#asks open#ask rp blog#cry of fear simon#cry of fear#ask blog#ask rp#there are two wolves inside me.#one says keep this strictly angsty and real#the other is a simon fictive who wants me to make him say funny things#neither is winning
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IT'S FOR YOU!!!!!!
#they frustrate me sm#yes i KNOW i'm the one writing this. yes i KNOW that makes it ridiculous that i'm complaining#but...............#i just want them to kiss . for my own sanity#im aware it's perfectly within my power to make them smooch . yet . yet#half of me wants to make them so angsty that i wanna cry#other half of me wants to make them kiss right then and there#neither of these halves contribute to the progress of the story#they just bicker while i'm desperately saying “guys. guys we need to work.”
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#evil#diabolical#I dont care about emilie BUT DAMN#just thinking how Emilie would also probably write letters and make them arrive in like a year and 5 years and 10 years#like a hi from the past from her to people she cared about like a sudden surprise she may not be with them but her love is#and how after her death they all pilled up in some cabinet because Emilie died before she could make arrangments for letters to arrive#so all those nice words and wishes and in some instances her last words to the world are all dusty and forgotten#but her body is perfectly perserved#no one cared about her as a person but they cared about her as a statue an image of her#no one cared about what she had to say the only thing they cared about was preserving her body her literal image her physical appearance#words dont words today but I am miserable right now UGH#miraculous ladybug tags by @snakeunderyourboot because they complete this post to me
Would it not be so very funny if while Nathalie and Gabriel were looking for cures all around the world Emilie got closure in almost all her personal relationships. All the loose ends tied up. Her parents, her friends, her sister, Adrien… She prepares a million videos for her loved ones to watch when she’s gone. Even plans her own funeral !
And then they never bury her. She doesn’t officially dies, they don’t let her, she’s just missing, even after Gabriel makes his wish. No one will ever know what really happened to her. It’s like she slipped through the cracks.
#stealing those tags because I was not expecting season 6 to give my emilie agreste feelings...and yet#refusing to watch all of werepapas because it's going to make me write angsty emigabe fic#you're dying and you keep your son close so you can have as many moments together as possible#but your husband refuses to do the same#he already grieves the version of you you're becoming less like everyday and disappears from your life while you're still alive#running to the other side of the world with another woman#a woman you believe will take your place in your husband and son's lives#a woman you are RELYING on taking your place in your husband and son's lives#but neither of them are listening to you#they're not there to listen to you#all you have are the videos you can make for them#videos one of them won't even watch#and the thing is you love him#and loving him means knowing him#and maybe that means you know he won't watch them
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I hate how villainized Jack & Maddie currently are because like. not only is that super out of character, but also in order to make them do All That you also have to make them stupid as fuck in their area of expertise, & while they may be unaware & ignorant at times, they aren't stupid
#another symptom of not watching the show maybe or just really bad understanding of their character in order to cram them into an unfit role?#i just don't get it. why make them try to kill their children when you could just make them do something really fucked up to PHANTOM#& then DANNY can't bear to interact with them anymore & they don't know why & neither ever get closure#which is SO much more angsty than any of THIS bullshit#fanon is so bad right now guys please say sike please tell me you don't actually believe this shit#''we're just having fun!!'' anyone who actually cares about the show isn't having fun is the problem#if you hate the show so much go find one you like & write fic for that??#or write original stories then you don't have to worry as much about the parts of writing you clearly struggle with
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SHY AFFECTION PROMPTS—
Walking side by side, the back of their fingers brushing—too shy to initiate hand-holding.
Teasing the tips of person B’s hair between their fingers, watching their fingers, unable to meet B’s gaze.
Subtle acts of service: opening a door for them, covering cornered edges when the other bends down to pick something up, purchasing something of the other’s interest.
”You look—uh, good. You look good.” Stammering, trying to appear confident when complimenting the other. Cue the throat clearing and avoidance of eye-contact.
Hesitant smiles and blushy cheeks.
Person A about to say something before thinking against it and closing their mouth.
Agonising slow-paced romance.
Person B sticking by person A’s side while they’re sick and stuck to bed rest, despite A’s warning of getting them sick too.
Thoughtful picnic dates.
Almost confessions.
”I care about you, and I want the best for you.”
Friends to lovers.
Looking for each other in social settings.
“You mean more to me than that.”
”Come on, we’re friends.” “Are we really?”
Angsty confessions after built up feelings being hidden.
Everyone can see it but them.
“We’re just friends!” “With how B is looking at you now? I don’t think you’re just friends.”
Starry night skies, damp grass, and deep talks about life.
B learning about A’s body insecurities and finding that it’s their favourite part of them.
Love-fuelled kisses under whispering nights.
So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness.
Feathery forehead kisses.
Neither of them raise their voice—a love so gentle and kind that it makes your teeth rot.
Either one has social anxiety and the other orders for them at cafes and restaurants, or both of them do and one disregards their own anxiety and steps up.
Late nights cuddled up and quiet giggles.
”You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
”I want our kids to have your eyes.”
Inside jokes that literally no one understands.
#prompts#writing prompts#dialogue prompts#writing prompt#writing ideas#prompt list#writing#ideas#list#creative writing#inspiration#writing inspiration#cliche#shy prompts#shy affection prompts#shy x shy#soft love#gentle#the love we all need#slow burn#fluff#fluff prompts#distort-t
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…………
I have no words I just need everyone else to suffer through this PHENOMENAL (and fucking heartbreaking) piece of literature with me
i promise i did try and make this more like funny/cute or whatever, but my brain switched fully to angst mode for part two. my bad.
anyway! blame @c-rose2081 for putting the idea in my head. here is gelphie as...tiny gelphie?
///
Glinda can’t breathe.
Glinda? Ga-linda? Galinda.
Galinda can’t breathe.
Her thoughts are muddled, her head pounding with confusion as she tries to sort out what’s real. Her adult memories are fading by the second, starting to turn hazy and disjointed, like a dream she can’t quite remember.
The room she’s in is dark and vast, terrifying to her now much smaller self. Tears are dripping down her cheeks, and for the first time in years- Galinda’s first thought is Momsie hates crying.
“Hey,” a quiet voice calls out. It startles Galinda so hard she screams, jerking away from a shadow by her shoulder.
“It’s okay! I’m sorry; it’s okay!”
Galinda pushes her blonde curls out of her face with a trembling hand and blinks up at a girl a few years older than she is, her deep green eyes full of concern. Actually- all of her is green, and it sends a burst of warmth through Galinda’s chest, a tingling sense of fuzzy, happy, overwhelming joy.
Whoever this girl is, Galinda thinks she must’ve known her. Back when she was big.
Her brow scrunches. Back when she was big? Galinda is so confused.
“Y-you’re gween,” she mumbles, finally getting her feet underneath her enough to stand. The other girl winces, leaning away from her with wary eyes.
“I am,” she says shortly. “I’ve always been green.”
She seems to be waiting for something else, so Galinda sends her a wobbly smile. “I like gween.”
It’s…her favorite color? Galinda grips the fabric of her skirt with shaky hands. Isn’t pink her favorite color? Who is this girl? Why does she feel so familiar? So trustworthy? So…right?
Galinda looks around and realizes that their entire surroundings are green as well. All smooth jade walls and vaulted ceilings.
The Emerald City, a little voice in her head says. But Galinda’s never been to the Emerald City before, has she? Her past memories are hidden, a jumbled mess of incoherent pieces that are locked behind a wall of fog deep within her mind.
But within them, surely, there is lots of green. She- she knows this. She knows this girl.
“My name is Galinda Upland,” Galinda introduces. She says is slowly, carefully, just the way momsie has taught her.
The older girl beams at her, seemingly delighted that Galinda isn’t put off by her green skin. “I’m Elphaba. Elphaba Thropp.” She thrusts her hand out to greet Galinda. “Have we met before?”
Galinda shakes her head. Nods. Frowns. Shakes her head again.
“E-elff-aba,” Galinda tries, but she stumbles over the long name. Her cheeks darken as she tenses, her momsie’s voice whispering through her mind.
Say it right, Galinda!
But Elphaba just smiles softly, giving Galinda’s hand a squeeze where she’s still holding it. “You can call me Elphie,” the girl says. “If that’s easier.”
Elphie. The nickname sings in her veins, something pushing through the fog in her brain so forcefully that it makes her place a hand to her temple with a wince. It hurts. She doesn’t remember Elphie, but she knows her. She- she-
She loves Elphie. Even though she’s only just met her. She loves her.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Elphie asks.
Galinda shakes her head. “D-dunno how I gots hewe,” she says, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks with her fist.
“Me neither. My brain feels all twisted around. I think I had the strangest dream.”
Galinda nods, agreeing. Something feels wrong. Galinda was sure when she first woke just minutes ago that she knew where she was and why she was there. But it’s gone now- slipped away like smoke. It scares her that she can’t remember. It feels like she’s missing something important.
Before they can say anything more, there’s a slam of a door opening, startling both girls as they jump and spin around. On the other side of the green room, a woman strides into view, her white hair twisted up on top of her head, her features sharp and cold as she scans the room and settles on the sight of the two girls.
She freezes, a slight stumble of her steps. She gapes at them both, eyes widening in shock.
Whatever she’d been expecting to see, it clearly wasn’t them. Galinda feels her stomach twist, a sick, yucky feeling. Something about this woman terrifies her, the sight of her hair and her face and her sharp heeled shoes making Galinda want to scream.
Galinda doesn’t remember what she did wrong, but this woman is here to punish her, she just knows it. Panic rises, stealing the breath from her lungs as she reaches out and tangles both her hands in the back of Elphie’s shirt, crowding close to the other girl’s back.
Elphie seems to take it in stride, standing up taller and pulling Galinda behind her. She glares at the woman as she shakes out of her stupor and stalks closer, looming over the pair.
“What is the meaning of this?” the woman shouts. “What have you done?!”
**Part Two. TW: mentions of child abuse & fear wetting**
Galinda’s breath hitches on a sob, tears gushing down her face as the woman towers overhead, screaming. She feels tiny and terrified, her stomach twisting and twisting. Even Elphie is cowed, leaning away from the woman though she resolutely remains in front of Galinda.
“W-we didn’t do anything!” Elphie cries, fear lacing her own voice.
But the woman is enraged, stomping past them to grab something off the floor that Galinda hadn’t even noticed. It’s a book- strangely built in two different pieces, hinged in between and with pages that glitter with symbols that look nothing like words.
Everything is so confusifying! Galinda’s brain hurts, and she clings harder to Elphie as the older girl braces herself for the older woman’s approach.
She knows this woman just like she knows Elphie; buried in memories she no longer can access. But where Elphie feels like a warm embrace, this woman feels like the cold slide of fear that accompanies her momsie pointing to the corner.
Punishment. Galinda shakes harder. Under her hands, she can feel Elphie’s back rising and falling in desperate breaths, nearing hyperventilation.
The room stinks of fear, the woman stalking over and shaking the book, yelling something about spells and magic and idiot blondes! Galinda can’t quite hear her. Her ears are ringing, body trembling, and before she knows it, before she can stop it, there’s a sudden warmth and wetness that flows down her legs.
Everything freezes. The woman’s nose curls in disgust. Elphaba spins around to look at Galinda, tearing the blonde’s hands from her shirt. Galinda realizes she’s had an accident and her sobs turn into proper wails.
“I’m sowwy!” she cries, throwing her hands over her front as though that can hide the growing dark spot. She scrambles backward, the room too big and too open and the woman’s face too mad, and Galinda is in trouble, she knows she is. “I’m sowwy, ‘m sowwy, please, I d-d-didn’t mean to!”
If Momsie were here, she would put Galinda in the corner. She’d tuck the back of her nightgown in her collar so she could give her a proper spanking and then leave her there, shivering in her soaked clothes until Popsicle came home and saw the evidence of her shame.
Something about this woman makes her think her version of punishment is even worse. There’s a spark of memory from behind the fog, something that rumbles like thunder and cracks across her skin, lightning hot and piercingly painful. Galinda stumbles and trips, falling to her butt on the cold floor.
“Ple-ease,” she whimpers, curling into herself. “I be good, I pwomise, please.”
She repeats herself over and over, babbling on about being good, doing good, she’s so sorry.
Elphie rushes to her side, small green arms surrounding Galinda as the older girl tries valiantly to glare at the scary woman. “D-don’t come near!” she shouts.
She sounds just as scared as Galinda. Her little chest is heaving with fast breaths that never reach her lungs. She’s got her arms spread like she can physically shield Galinda with her body.
“Y-you can’t hit her, it was an accident!”
But that’s not how punishments work. Galinda knows that, and she thinks Elphie knows that, too. They must’ve done something wrong. But as the woman advances on them, all she can think is it’s all her fault.
Galinda did something wrong. And now both she and her new friend are going to pay for it.
#whoops got a lil angsty#< prev tag#one of these days we’re gonna fix your angst scale babe#I’m SOBBING#AGAIN#fr tho im obsessed w this its incredible#wicked#wicked movie#gelphie#galinda upland#elphaba thropp#genuinely obsessed w you actually#but that’s neither here nor there#anywho
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HEARTBEAT | kang dae-ho.
pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader
summary: during the third game you reunite with dae-ho who is everything but thrilled to have his pregnant girlfriend surrounded by death. requested here.
warning: pregnant!reader, established relationship, hot baby daddy dae-ho 😫 angsty and emotional, mention of financial struggles, survival themes, please enjoy ♥️
word count: 2.8k

The door slammed shut behind you, the loud clank of the mechanism sealing you and Dae-ho inside the small, dimly lit room just as the timer hit zero. For a moment, the air felt charged, thick with all the words left unspoken. You stood frozen near the wall, your hands instinctively cradling your belly, while Dae-ho's tall frame loomed near the door. His jaw was clenched tight as you heard gunshots and screaming coming from the other side of the door, his eyes were fixated on the floor as if forcing himself to maintain composure.
Neither of you had so much as exchanged a meaningful glance in front of the others, too scared of what even a flicker of familiarity might invite in this place where alliances were fragile, and vulnerability was a target. But here, in this room, with no one else watching...
"Dae-ho," you breathed, the sound of his name cracking the tension like a dam breaking.
His head snapped up, and within seconds, he crossed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you fiercely, desperately. It wasn't soft or tender, it was raw, like he'd been holding his breath for days and could finally exhale. His lips moved against yours as if trying to drink in everything he'd been forced to repress since seeing you again.
"You're here," he murmured against your lips, his voice trembling as he pulled back just enough to look at you. His hands slid to your shoulders, down your arms, as though reassuring himself that you were real. "God, you're really here."
Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as the weight of his words hit you. "I didn't want you to know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"That's obvious," he said bitterly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. His gaze softened, his worry bleeding through the anger. "You shouldn't be here. What the hell were you thinking? You're pregnant. And you joined this… this hell?"
Tears stung your eyes as you turned your head away, breaking his gaze. "What choice did I have?" you said, your voice cracking. "We're drowning in debt, Dae-ho. The baby needs a future. What else was I supposed to do?"
"You were supposed to rely on me," he snapped, his hands dropping to his sides, his frustration spilling over. "I would've-" He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as he paced the small room. "I would've done something. Anything. But you just- You didn't even tell me. You just left me out of this."
"I didn't want to drag you down," you said, your voice trembling. "You've already done so much for us, Dae-ho. I couldn't-"
"Don't," he interrupted, his voice low but sharp. "Don't give me that. You didn't drag me down. You're the one thing in my life that kept me sane." He stopped pacing and turned back to you, his gaze piercing. "And now you're here, risking not just your life but our child's. Do you have any idea what it felt like seeing you out there? Pretending I didn't know you? Pretending I didn't care?"
"I didn't want to need you," you confessed, "Because needing you… it scared me. It still does."
His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he looked away, his hands balled to fists before he relaxed them again. "You can need me, damn it," he said softly, his voice low but fierce. "You think I don't need you just as much?"
You pressed a hand to your stomach, the guilt and fear twisting inside you, whispering,"If they know we're connected, they could-"
"I don't care what they do to me," he cut in quickly, his voice rising. "You should've thought about what it would do to me if something happens to you. If something happens to our baby."
The silence that followed was heavy, the air between you thick with regrets. Finally, Dae-ho took a deep breath and stepped closer, his hands finding your shoulders again. His voice softened, though the edge of desperation still lingered. "We'll figure this out, okay? We'll keep our distance in front of the others, but I need you to promise me something."
You looked up at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. "What?"
"You don't take unnecessary risks," he said firmly. "You stick to the safest options. You stay out of the way whenever you can. And if there's even a hint of danger, you let me handle it. Got it?"
You hesitated, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "I'll try," you said finally, knowing it was the best promise you could give.
He exhaled, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. "That's not good enough," he murmured. "But it'll have to do."
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the reality of your situation loomed over you. His arms wrapped around you gently, one hand resting protectively over your belly.
"I'll get you out of here," he said softly, his voice full of conviction. "You and the baby. I swear it."
Dae-ho held you close for a moment longer before stepping back, his hands still lingering around your waist. His gaze softened, though the worry didn't leave his eyes.
"You should stick to Jun-hee," he said, his voice firm but kind.
You blinked at him, confused. "What?"
"She's part of my team and she's pregnant too," he explained. "If you two stick together, it'll make it easier for me to keep an eye on you. I know I can't be obvious about us, but at least this way, I'll know you're not alone. And I can look out for both of you without drawing attention."
You opened your mouth to argue, but something about the way he looked at you, pleading, almost desperate, made you pause. "You're really planning to take care of two pregnant women in a place like this?"
He huffed a humorless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just… what I do. I can't not try to help. You know that about me."
"That's not an excuse," you said back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You're acting like this is all on me, but what about you? Why are you even here, Dae-ho? You didn't exactly tell me you were planning on joining these games either!"
His expression faltered, guilt flashing across his face. "I was trying to protect you," he admitted quietly. "I didn't want you to know. I thought I could-"
"Could what?" you interrupted, "Fix everything? Take on the world by yourself? You think that's what I wanted? You think I wouldn't have tried to stop you if I knew?"
"I didn't want you to stop me," his shoulders slumped, "I thought if I could win… I could pay off everything. For both of us. For the baby. I didn't want you to worry about anything anymore."
You stared at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice, but the frustration didn't subside entirely. "So you thought it was okay to risk your life without telling me but not okay if I want to do the same? That's not protecting me, Dae-ho. That's keeping me in the dark."
"I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But when I saw you here…" He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "I didn't know whether to be furious or terrified. And now we're both in this mess."
The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. Finally, you sighed, the fight draining out of you. "As you said, we're in this together now," you said, your voice quieter. "Whether we like it or not."
He nodded, his eyes locking with yours. "And as I said, I'll make sure you make it out of here," he said firmly. "You and the baby. No matter what."
"And what about you?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What happens to you, Dae-ho?"
"That doesn't matter," he said without hesitation. "What matters is that you survive."
The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten, and you shook your head. "I'm not letting you sacrifice yourself for me. Not again."
"We'll figure it out," he assured softly, reaching out to take your hand. "One game at a time. But for now, promise me you'll stick with Jun-hee. Please."
You hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Finally, you nodded. "Fine. But promise me something too."
"Anything," he said without missing a beat.
"You don't do anything reckless," you said, your voice firm. "No heroics, no self-sacrificing. If we're getting out of here, we're doing it together."
His lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained serious. "Deal."
For the first time since joining these games and for the first time for a very long time, you felt a flicker of hope, fragile, but real. Whatever came next, at least you weren't alone.
Dae-ho let out a shaky breath, and before you could say another word, he sank to his knees in front of you. The sudden movement caught you off guard, but it wasn't until his arms wrapped gently around your waist that your breath hitched. He rested his forehead lightly against your stomach, his large hands cradling your sides with the utmost care, as though you might break.
"Dae-ho," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
He didn't respond immediately, just stayed there, holding you as if you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world. After a moment, he tilted his head slightly, his cheek pressing against your belly. His warm breath fanned through the fabric of your shirt, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, tender, almost reverent.
"I can't believe it," he murmured, his gaze softening as it dropped to your stomach. He placed a hand there, his palm warm and loving. "There's a piece of us right here." You couldn't help but smile.
His voice was quiet when he spoke again, the words almost a prayer.
"Hey, little one," he murmured, his words directed at the life growing inside you. "It's me… your dad."
Your hands moved instinctively, threading through his hair. The soft strands slipped between your fingers, grounding you in this surreal moment. Dae-ho closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it like a man starved for comfort.
"You probably can't hear me yet, but…," he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "I need you to be strong, okay? Just like your mom. And I promise, I'm going to do everything I can to keep you two safe. You're my whole world now, you know that? Both of you."
A lump formed in your throat as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You hadn't expected this, this unfiltered love pouring from him. It made the weight of your circumstances feel both heavier and lighter at the same time.
"I bet you're going to be just like her," he said with a small chuckle, his hand gently rubbing your side. "Strong, smart, way too stubborn for your own good."
You let out a teary laugh, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Hey, don't encourage that."
He tilted his head back slightly, looking up at you with a crooked grin that melted your heart. "Can't help it. It's in the genes."
His gaze softened as he looked back at your stomach, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the fabric of your shirt, his lips lingering for a long moment. The action was so tender, so full of love, that it nearly brought you to your knees as well. He rested his forehead there again, his arms tightening around you.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "For everything. For not being there when you needed me. For making you feel like you had to do this alone."
"Dae-ho," you whispered, your own voice cracking as you cupped his face, guiding him to look up at you. "You're with us. That's all that matters."
He swallowed hard, nodding as his hands slid down to hold yours. "I swear to you, I'm not going anywhere. I'll fight through hell if I have to. I'll keep you safe, no matter what it takes."
The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over, and you knelt down with him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your forehead against his.
"We'll survive this," he repeated softly, his breath warm against your temple. "And when we get out… we'll make a real life together. The three of us."
You hesitated, your heart hammering as you realized it was the moment to tell him. "Four," you said softly, your hand covering his where it rested protectively over your stomach.
His body stiffened slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Four?" His voice was cautious, almost as if he were afraid to hope.
You nodded, your throat tightening as emotion swelled. "Before I came here, I had a doctor's appointment, and… we're having twins, Dae-ho."
The silence that followed was deafening, his stillness unnerving. For a moment, you worried you'd broken him, but then he slightly leaned back on his knees, his eyes wide and glassy as they searched yours.
"Twins?" he repeated, the word barely audible. His hand shifted, trembling slightly as it moved to cradle your stomach. He said nothing for a while, just staring at you as if trying to comprehend what you'd just revealed. His lips parted, a shaky exhale escaping as his thumb traced over the fabric covering your belly.
"Twins," he repeated again, this time with a mix of wonder and disbelief. "We're having twins?"
A small smile tugged at your lips, despite the tears streaming down your face. "Yes. I wasn't sure how to tell you… or when. But yeah. Two little ones."
His head dropped, forehead again pressing gently against your stomach as he let out a quiet, shaky laugh. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. "Two," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know whether to cry or laugh."
Your fingers softly tucked a strand of hair away from his beautiful face, "You can do both," you said gently, "I did."
He tilted his head up to look at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes took your breath away. His lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn't quite hide the tears slipping down his cheeks. "Twins," he said again, shaking his head slightly. "I didn't even know how I was going to handle one. Now there are two of them. Two little… us."
The way he said it, so in awe, so full of wonder, made your chest ache. "I wasn't planning on telling you here," you admitted, "Not in this nightmare. But I couldn't… I couldn't keep it to myself anymore."
"I'm glad you didn't," he said, his voice steadying. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears you didn't even realize had fallen. "No matter what happens in this hellhole, no matter how dark it gets, knowing they're waiting for us? It's everything."
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Dae-ho, we can't let this place take us."
"It won't," he said firmly, his jaw tightening. "I won't let it. We'll make it. I'll make damn sure of it."
His hands slipped back down to your waist, his fingers splaying over your belly as though he could somehow shield the life growing inside you from the horrors outside. "Two little heartbeats," he murmured, his voice softening. "Do you know what that means?"
You tilted your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "What?"
"It means we're going to need twice the strength," his gaze locked with yours, "But it also means we've got twice the reason to fight. Twice the reason to win."
You leaned forward, your noses almost touching, your hands covering his on your stomach. "We'll do it together," you assured quietly. "The four of us."
"The four of us," he echoed, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so tender it left you breathless. "You're stuck with me now. Forever."
You let out another teary laugh, the sound mingling with his soft chuckle. "I've been stuck with you for years, Dae-ho. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
For a moment, the world outside that room, the horrors of the games, didn't exist. It was just two lovers holding onto each other and the heartwarming hope bound on a fragile string of the future that was worth fighting for. You allowed yourselves to feel it, this unwavering love, this promising hope that had been buried beneath the fear. It wasn't much, but it was enough to remind you both why you were fighting, to survive, to protect, and to make it out of this nightmare as a family.
And whatever came next, you knew you wouldn't face it alone.

#squid game#squid game x oc#squid game angst#hurt/comfort#kang daeho#kang dae ho imagine#kang dae ho#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae ho x you#dae ho imagine#kang daeho x reader#dae ho squid game#daeho x reader#dae ho x reader#dae ho#daeho#player 388 x reader#player 388#player 388 x you#angst with a happy ending#dae ho angst#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game 2#squid game 2 spoilers#squid game season 2#squid game x y/n#squid game s2#squid game spoilers#squid game netflix
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What they need to hear from you



The one where you comfort him : Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Xavier
Hello! This is my first official writing of the LaDS characters; I hope you enjoy it! comments and reposts and love are most appreciated! 💕 The reader is the MC in this one! Angsty (but happy endings) No other warnings.Thank you to my friend who helped me find some inspiration for this post <3
Caleb
Caleb always tried to be the Caleb you remembered, even if he could not remember it that well, he searched through the little memory he had left to piece himself together. Because it was for you. He saw your face that day, the day you told him you didn't need him. That look in your eye, he didn't know exactly what it was; disgust? Pity? Terror? He couldn't recognise it. So, instead of acting like it never happened, he tried to make himself better, just so you would never leave his side again... you liked him before, right? So, it shouldn't be too hard... right?
Turns out, it was harder than he had ever imagined, after all the time he had not seen you since you were released from his fleet, everything between the two of you became suffocatingly awkward. Neither of you knew what to do, what to say, he was beginning to believe that even with the silly coupon (he didn't find it silly... not really), there was no salvaging what the two of you had.
He had destroyed it all in desperation to have you.
So, even though whenever he was near you, he felt like as if is chest was caved in from shame; he stayed by your side. Letting himself silently suffocate because that is what he deserved for letting you down -- or so he believed. It wasn't until you came back injured from a mission, where he ran to you, but he didn't dare touch you, his hands just sort of... hovered over your injuries, his eyes darting around, his brain trying desperately to find a way he could help you without terrifying you again. You sighed and watched him before slowly reaching toward his hand, your fingers brushing against the top of his hand "Caleb..." You whisper, your now strained relationship was hurting a lot more than your physical injuries "Caleb, I am not scared of you... I need you to help me." You push and look at him "Please.." It was true, what happened in Skyhaven was behind you and even though it was killing you with how different the two of you were compared to before, you aren't able to clean all these wounds yourself.
Caleb's eyes softened immediately, and he nodded. "Of course, Pipsqueak, you must be hurting a lot; I'm sorry." He quickly got up and grabbed the first aid kit as he slowly sat you down gently and began to look at your injuries, taking a deep breath before he peeled your sleeves away. "Pips... where did you go to... to get these types of injuries?" He asked gently, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he let out a sigh. "Please, prioritise your safety..." He muttered before continuing to help you as you focused on other wounds. You turn to him and nod "I do, it's just-" He didn't need you to explain, "I know." Was all he said before finishing up and packing the first aid kit "Do you... uh.." He scratched the back of his neck. "Need help with anything else?" He asks gently, but when you shake your head, he just gives you a soft smile and lets you be.
He stood in the kitchen and sighed gently as he slipped the first aid kit back into the cupboard. It wasn't easy to see you like this, in pain and uncomfortable. He just wanted to fix everything; he was good at it whilst he was younger, so why wasn't he good at it now?
He knew you had to do this; you had to save the people the way that you and he weren't in that catastrophe, but he wondered if you were trying to prove something to yourself, too. Caleb wanted to push them, tell you that saving the world wasn't your responsibility, but he has just got you back; you're finally not scared of him anymore; he couldn't ruin that. All he could be is glad that you were here now, that you came to him after all.
He closed the cupboard and prepared a small cup of hot chocolate for the two of you, and sat in the sitting room, waiting for your return.
After getting changed into comfier clothing, you nestled into Caleb, your heart racing slightly in fear he would reject this form of affection after so long... after what you said to him. But, he welcomed it and wrapped his arm around you. "I want to go back to how we used to be.." You say softly, looking up at his big purple eyes. "A-At least, start working towards it... You're my home, Caleb... I don't want this... awkwardness anymore."
You swore you could almost see him levitate off the couch as he practically shone with happiness as if those were the only words he ever needed to hear. "Anything you want, Pipsqueak, I am yours to command."
Rafayel
Rafayel was not an insecure man. At least, that is what everyone else thought. Rafayel, on the other hand, was not so sure. It is not that he felt insecure; it's more he felt this emptiness inside of him, and he had no clue what to fill it with. After all these years, he had you in his grasp once more, so close, yet so far. Because he remembered everything, he even knew what was to come, but you? You're so clueless. He knew how he lost you, how he would lose you and how he could lose you. And he had to deal with this pain and anger all alone.
His past failures jabbed into him as if he were Prometheus, constantly being pecked by a bird. He lived between what was his life and the life he had before, dealing with the betrayal he caused, all for the one he loved, for you, but you didn't know. You will never know.
A part of him did not want you to ever find out what kind of monster he was, afraid he would scare you away, like the otherworldly beast he is, but the other part of him was so tired of carrying this alone.
He wasn't insecure in himself, but insecure for what he could do for you, insecure in his love for you. Would it be enough for you to stay? For the two of you to finally have an entire lifetime together? Would it be worth plunging his people into darkness?
It was a constant spiral he had since you came back into his life, like a rollercoaster, but forever stuck on the loop, the happiness that he finally has you and the pain of what he was - it was a never-ending cycle. That a part of him didn't want to escape; he deserved this pain after all, didn't he? For what is a God who does not live in shame for causing suffering to his people?
But, deep down, he was just afraid he would become unloveable in your eyes. That was his deepest, darkest fear, the one that drowned him in darkness once the night time hit.
You knew something was wrong. It seems silly but when your world was a bit duller, when the grey clouds seemed more prominent or when the lakes and seas swayed as if it was heavy, you knew Rafayel was not himself. So, with a spare bag of seashells in hand and some of the rare materials you knew he liked, you headed over to his place.
The plastic bag twisted against your fingers, almost cutting off circulation entirely as you made your way through the streets and to the beach, slipping your spare key out of your pocket and into the keyhole of the gate, twisting it a few times to unlock the gate.
You gently swished the bag beside you as you made the way to the door, and you imagined your boyfriend's smile when he saw you. However, your heart fell to your stomach as Rafayel's 'organised' mess was scattered and ruined across the floor. The studio was a mess and unkempt; it was almost like an abandoned building.
"Rafayel?" You called out and looked around the place before you saw him sitting on the balcony.
He turned to you, his eyes screaming emotions at you that you had never seen on him before "Cutie..." He whispered meekly.
You fell to your knees by his side once you approached his side and cupped his face "Darling? What has happened? Are you struggling to paint?" You ask as you caress his cheek, your heart fluttering as he leans in as if he hadn't been touched by you in weeks (he saw you yesterday)
"Will you still love me, no matter what I become?" He asked you suddenly, and you froze as you looked at him; the two of you had silently loved each other until now, finding other ways to highlight your love rather than saying it.
"Of course you wouldn't." He muttered bitterly and turned from you, missing how your brows scrunched together with a mix of confusion and anger
"What-?"
"How could an angel like you love a monster like-" "I love you." You blurt out and make him face you, "I wanted to say it in a more romantic way, in a way that you will always remember.... but I love you, Rafayel, no matter what you become.." You smile softly and place a kiss on his cheek and caress it into his skin as if to heal him.
Rafayel's hand slipped down from above yours to your wrist as he searched your eyes for any deceit.
"Promise?" He asks, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he anticipates your answer.
"I promise, my heart has always been yours and always will be.
Rafayel may have a piece of him missing, but he was sure it was to be filled by you.
Zayne
Zayne is a man who craves control, not over anyone else, just over himself. He had to, because if he was void of control, there would be cracks and the cracks he could not let you see. If you saw his cracks, how could you trust him as your doctor?
He had let you down once, all those years ago when he left you, abandoned you, even if it was not his choice. But he had a choice now and he would use it to make sure he never let you down again.
So, every single crack he kept to himself, stayed up later, worked later until he could fill them all up again before he could see you. However, as he scribbled down notes on his research, the memories of his nightmares played in his mind, taunting him, punishing him, and he came to accept he deserved it. He shouldn't have let all those people come to die, he was a doctor, and a doctor's role was to save a life, not to let it fade away, yet with every year, the list of his letdowns grew.
Everyone told him that it was expected: that to save a life, you were bound to lose a few; it was how life worked. But not for Zayne, not at all, because with every name that appeared on that list, he was afraid it was a name closer to yours.
He couldn't have that, not when he gave up the life he wanted for yours to prevail.
You, on the other hand, were becoming increasingly worried and slightly frustrated with your doctor because this was the third time you tried to coax him out of his office. You have tried everything; cake, macaroons, sweets... all came to a disappointing ending. You thought that trying something as harmless as sweets wouldn't highlight your increasing worry, and it was small enough so you could get a small look at him.
It had almost been two weeks now, and so you made your way to the hospital. You just wanted to know that he was okay and maybe scold him slightly for shutting you out... again.
Once the doors slid open, you gently greeted Yvonne and walked to Zayne's office after making sure he had no more patients to see. You looked down at the box, a small muffin for Zayne, before inhaling and knocking on the door.
Gosh, you hope he doesn't reject you because as your knuckles collide with the door, It dawns on you that he might be avoiding you because you might have done something wrong.
"Come in."
You gulp down and hold the small box a little tighter in your hand, causing it to crease slightly before opening the door. You shifted on your feet as he was too immersed in his work to even look up at you.
"Hi." You greet him gently and slip the muffin on the table, and his eyes instantly break away from the paper at the sound of your voice
"I thought that since you wouldn't come to me for the sweet treats, I would just come to you because I know you cannot go too long without them." You say lightly and place yourself on the chair opposite his desk.
"Thank you." He says softly and looks between you and his work a couple of times before bunching the papers together in a neat pile and slipping them away. "Did you just come from a mission?" You raise a brow. "Are you not going to explain why I haven't seen you in two weeks? I know being a doctor is exhausting, Zayne, but you normally tell me ahead of time-"
"I didn't want to worry you over something foolish. I have it under control."
"Under control? What is under control? Why aren't you talking to me? You know that I am here." The words fall out, conveying your desperation. You had felt empty without him, alone, and you didn't want to feel that again. "It does not concern you, Y/N." He retorts, "If I thought you needed to know, I would have told you." You bite back your words and nod "Alright.." You sit there silently. You would've typically left, but something told you that this time, you needed to stay, that he needed you.
After a few beats of silence, you try again. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself... I know it may not concern me, but that doesn't mean you have to lock it away."
He tensed up. He hated how you could still see through him, even after all this time. He pulled away from his computer, which he was only looking at to control his anxiety for nearly scaring you away. He released the tension in his shoulders and took the muffin. "I lost a patient... two weeks ago."
Sylus
'What a fool' is all he could think as he sat in his office, piles of vinyl scattered across his usually clean office. No tune or genre was calming him. After all this time, after sensing you like he did, after preparing this life for you, he had scared you away.
He couldn't bear to think that because of who he was, his reputation, and who you believed he was made him lose you, not after all this time, not after the promise the two of you shared, not after what you went through.
He was a fool for pushing you too quick, too hard; his excitement and desperation had blinded him; why was he so hellbent on making you remember if he could just build new memories with you? Foolish.
You not remembering a thing, he could get behind, it made sense, but your hatred, your disgust. That he could not get behind, no matter what you believed about him. All he wanted to do was to have you in his arms and to show you what he had made. It might not be the cave you had a lifetime ago, but it was spectacular in this lifetime. A lifetime he built for you, and you didn't even want it.
He supposed he could understand. You did think he killed your family, even though he would never. All he would do would be to keep you safe. It pained him to understand your point of view, to see him as a monster. He was in his last life, so it only made sense that he was in this one.
But he had made you fall in love with him once, and back then, he was truly a monster, so he could make you fall for him again. He just had to give you the choice to choose him.
So, over the next few weeks, he let you choose him, come back to him. Not pushing or pulling, he didn't need to; the door was always open, and you knew that.
That didn't stop his heart from doing flips in his chest each time he saw you walk through the base's doors.
Tonight, you were also expected to come through the doors; he had the twins make sure the base was clean and tidy, that your room was prepared, and that security was at its highest. It was something he always did when you were coming over.
However, you never showed; you were on a mission, so maybe you went home and forgot; that would be reasonable... except come rain or shine, injury or no injury, if you said you were coming, you were always there.
He knew there was something more to your tardiness; without another thought, he sent Mephisto to look for you, and when he came back, the air was knocked out from Sylus' lungs.
You were found passed out, just outside of the base; it didn't take him a second to cross the base and have you in his arms "Oh, kitten.." He brushed the hair from your face, his heart breaking as you weakly opened your eyes.
"Sylus, I am sorry, I tried to call, but..."
"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now." He tried to use his usual tone with you, but his voice was softer, almost as if he was trying his hardest not to let it break.
He worked quickly to get you patched up, swallowing down his worries and quite possibly his tears as he did so, not even letting the twins near you. He sat with you, putting on your favourite vinyl softly in the background as he waited for you to wake up, not leaving your side, his hand placed on yours, afraid that if he let you go, he would lose you like he almost did tonight and the guilt was eating him alive.
"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter and glance toward him. "You're looking at me like your cat just died." You smirk slightly, and he lets out a chuckle "Kitten, why didn't you ask me to pick you up?"
"I assumed you had business to attend to-" "You should've called me. What happened if you never made it here, if we never found you, if you never came back to me, do you think I could live with myself."
You slowly sit up and look toward him "Sylus, I will always come back to you, always. I will always find myself here. You need to trust me on that."
"I do. It's just tonight seeing you like that made me feel-" "Scared?"
He huffed through his nose and pinched the bridge of it "Something like that..." He brushed the hair out of your face "Call me next time." You nod and smile "I will."
A few days later you were back fighting wanderers, but this time Sylus was by your side, his evol swirling around his arm and his hand "You sure about this, Sweetie?"
You nod "I'm Sure, I am safe by your side."
Sylus smiled; you were safe with him; you chose him, and fighting beside you was the greatest honour to have, so he made sure you left the mission without a scratch.
Xavier
It wasn't unusual for you to not see or hear from Xavier for days; you were sure he would pop up at one of the most convenient moments to be by your side. Or, pop up just before you were assigned another partner by Captian Jenna.
This is what happened; before you, the captain, could even mutter another person's name, Xavier appeared, literally faster than the speed of light beside you. Jenna sighed and cleared her throat. "Y/N, your partner will be Xavier for today's mission.
You didn't even look at him before you went to collect what you needed from the information room, and Xavier didn't seem to mind this. He just followed you obediently and read through the information quickly.
You were brought out of your focus when you suddenly heard his voice.
"Aren't you even going to ask where I was for the past few days?" He questioned and tilted his head, unsure why you're not interrogating him like you usually do.
You shrug and turn back to the tablet sitting in your hands. "Why should I? I trust you. If you want to let me know, you will when you need to."
To you, it was just a simple establishment of trust that you assumed you both knew of, but to Xavier, it was everything, and quite clearly, as little lights started to float around him, there was a slight smile on his face.
Trust was a big deal to him; after meeting you for the second time, he almost felt guilty about how angry you were at him for leaving you behind like he did. Not only that, but he failed his planet and the people on it, as well as the people he dragged here, to try and save you... He had failed them all and probably even you to the point where he believed he wasn't even worthy of trust.
You two didn't make a comment about it from that point. It was almost like, 'What is said in the information room stays in the information room.'
You watched him stand there and fiddle with the protocore between his fingers before, like always, crushing it into oblivion.
"Why do you always do that?" You ask, but he does not answer; he just walks you home. "Xavier, are you feeling okay? You've been silent the whole walk home.."
"I'm alright." He shot you a small smile like he always did and went inside. It was yet another protocore that was a waste, another step further from home, another disappointment to the people relying on him... but, at least, you trusted him.
So, he walked down the stairs and to your apartment and knocked on the door. He didn't even have to say a word, you just let him walk in and sit down, plating up some food for him.
You sit opposite and begin to eat, speaking about trivial things with him before he speaks up, "I don't expect you to understand me fully, but I need to find something, and I can't find it, and it's driving me mad."
"I can help-" you pipe in, but he just shakes his head, causing you to deflate, but you understood him in a way; you had things to do, personal missions to complete that you wouldn't want anyone to touch either. You clear your throat. "Well, if you ever need someone to help cheer you up or clear your mind, you can come here. If I can't help you with your mission, I want to at least help you after them." He smiles and looks at you, placing a star-shaped dumpling into your bowl and nods. "That'll be nice..."
Taglist: @61chai-tea @lueurjun @thebangtancloud @nawysstuff @phantom-astra
#love and deepspace#lads rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel fluff#love and deepspace sylus#xavier love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace zayne#sylus fluff#sylus angst#sylus x mc#xavier fluff#xavier angst#caleb fluff#caleb angst#zayne fluff#zayne angst#rafayel angst#xavier x reader#sylus x reader#caleb x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#angst with a happy ending#zayne x you#rafayel x you#caleb x you#xavier x you#xavier x mc#caleb x mc
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˚୨୧ 𝗷𝗼𝗲𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 ⋆。˚ ⋆
a list of my favorite joel miller fan-fictions ༊*·˚
౨ৎ getting the poison out by @cum-a-calla
"in which you’ve been acting up all fucking day and Joel has to put you back in your place with a punishment tailored to fit the crime."
౨ৎ ride by @beardedjoel
"you try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him"
౨ৎ just this once by @punkshort
"After yet another argument with your dad, his buddy across the street is there to help make you feel better."
౨ৎ ain't right by @celiababy
"You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him."
౨ৎ rotten by @alltheirdamn
"Joel decides to surprise you with something nice, but you're not in the mood. He's quick to fix your attitude, and put you in your place."
౨ৎ an old toy by @ilikemenolderthanmyfather
"Joel gets kidnapped and used like a toy, and best of all, he gets the save a hoarse ride a cowboy treatment."
౨ৎ bigger in texas by @gutsby
"Joel won't fit."
౨ৎ i know who you are (series) by @punkshort
"A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way."
౨ৎ made of ice by @starlitscars
"One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you."
౨ৎ stiff by @gutsby
"At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in."
౨ৎ independent contractor by @lady-djarin
౨ৎ fine line by @paulyenvol6
"Very angsty and lots of dom!Joel with daddy vibes and subby reader."
౨ৎ shaping you by @joelswhcre
"joel miller teaches you pottery, but his hands are more interested in molding you than the clay. slow, teasing, and messy in all the best ways."
౨ৎ sleepless nights by @preciosapascal
"another sleepless night in jackson for both you and your neighbour Joel."
౨ৎ hunger by @joelswhcre
"you wake to the weight of joel miller between your thighs, hungry and aching to claim you. he’s been patient, but now? now he’s going to take."
౨ৎ keeps you up all night by @joelswhcre
"joel wakes up hard, again. and there’s no way he’s letting you sleep through it."
౨ৎ world's worst chauffer by @ilikeevilblondes
"Joel Miller, your dad's best friend, ends up getting roped into picking you up from a party. Without the key to unlock your house or anybody to let you inside, Joel offers to let you sleep at his place for the night. Needless to say, the both of you don't do a lot of sleeping."
౨ৎ texan tensions by @pedroscowgirl
"Your dad's buddy learns you how to play the guitar"
౨ৎ breaststroke by @ilikeevilblondes
"Joel, single dad extraordinaire, is struggling to teach his daughter how to swim. You end up teaching Sarah over the course of a few weekly swimming classes. One fortunate day, Joel accidentally stumbles upon a rather intimate situation involving you in the shower rooms after hours. He’s about to leave, but right before he can, he hears his own name spilling out in a desperate moan from your lips."
౨ৎ i will not ask and neither should you by @cherry-coloureddfunk
"you should have hated him"
౨ৎ drabble by @daryltwdixon
"angsty Joel thinking he doesn't deserve you"
౨ৎ somehwere only we know by @josephquinnswhore
"joel has been the only constant in your life since you’ve been at Jackson. But you don’t know if you deserve him despite his persistent efforts."
౨ৎ borrowed time by @aurorawritestoescape
"Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul."
౨ৎ how the cookie crumbles by @egcdeath
"when you come back home to austin to help your sister with her bakery, you end up in an arrangement with your high school crush that ends up being far more than you bargained for. "
౨ৎ a glimpse of heaven by @ozarkthedog
"joel secretly watches you shower."
౨ৎ damp, dirty, his by @pascalispimp
"Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse."
౨ৎ dream scape by @joelswhcre
"it’s just a dream—you’re sure of it. because there’s no way joel, your best friend’s dad, is actually between your legs, making you fall apart on his tongue. right?"
౨ৎ give up by @talaok
"Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun."
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-> as i was curating this i realized most of it is smut... i promise ya'll i do not have a problem
-soda
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His Loss, Their Gain



Synopsis: in which you get stood up and the jjk men are more than ready to step up for you (pre-relationship) Warnings: a little cursing, vaguely sexual language or allusions, a little angsty, but mostly fluff, crack and comfort, one-sided pining perchance, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna Word Count: 3.6k
Gojo
He heard all about your date from Shoko when he took a student to her dark, miserable corner to get all fixed up that morning. To say he was peeved was a massive understatement. In fact, the man had been muttering ‘ooh y/n’s got a date with some non-sorcerer ooh good for her’ under his breath pretty much the entire day.
The students are both amused and irritated by his constant yammering.
“I go on loads of date!” He grumbled, flicking a leaf as he leans against a tree, watching the kids spar. “What’s the big deal?”
At lunch, he strolled into the teacher’s lounge and whistled some tune. As always, you were sat by the window enjoying a bento box that made his mouth water — man, what would it be like to enjoy a meal made by you.
Casually, he mused, “I heard through the grapevine, you’ve got a hot date tonight.”
You threw him an unimpressed glower.
“Who the hell told you about that?”
Satoru shrugged. “Oh, y’know, just the grapevine. So, what’s he like?”
Nonchalant as he may have seemed, he had enough self-awareness to know that he was pretty bothered by how spruced up you’ve gotten for this guy, whoever he is. God, did you have to make your hair all pretty like that? And oh hell, is that a new perfume?
You didn’t entertain his game, choosing to ignore his thinly veiled attempt to pry, and chose simply to poke his side, tickling him away from the path to the exit he was blocking. The white-haired man rolled his eyes, desperate to quell the smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
That one interaction, that fleeting touch he never blocked out and that momentary glimpse at your shy smile, smothered the complaints that had been festering inside since he visited Shoko. You looked anxious, embarrassed, but more than anything, excited. Happy.
He was quiet the rest of the day.
The students didn’t know what to make of his sudden shift in mood; he was contemplative, focused and serious. None of them complained, after all they were finally learning a thing or two but it was an odd sight, him without a smile on his face.
When the sun was lowering, and the students had all headed home, Satoru leisurely exited the school feeling, for reasons he wasn’t ready to acknowledge, more tired than usual. But then he saw you, standing at the gates staring at your phone. Checking his own, he frowned.
You were supposed to be long gone by now.
When he appeared right beside you, you weren’t the least bit taken aback by his sudden voice.
“Ugly loser not coming?”
Muttering, you weakly replied, “You’ve never met him. How can you possibly know he’s ugly?”
Satoru threw back a retort that you didn’t respond to. He sighed. With his hands tucked into this pockets, he nudged you. “Alright, stop pouting, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. God, being a teacher really takes its toll on the body.”
“You barely do anything.”
Despite yourself, you smiled.
So did he.
“Yeah, well, I’m still hungry anyways. So, let’s get going. Your treat.”
And despite his incredibly annoying, pretentious tone, you found yourself walking away from the school, the dwindling warmth of the sun setting behind you, with Satoru. He tried to hide his self-satisfied grin and the slight pep in his steps, and especially the peak under his blindfold at the two shadows you cast.
For as long as other men sucked, he knew he still had a chance.
Geto
“Got plans?”
You gave him a side glance, pulling your panties back up your legs. That arrangement of yours was complicated, to say the least. An on and off thing, neither of you could really keep your hands off each other, and all while staying as friends. Of course, the being friends part was easy — he’s fun and you’re sweet. But the staying as friends, and just as friends, was oh so difficult.
Clearing your throat, you took the bra he was dangling from his finger with a brow raised. And you said, “Yeah. Kinda. Some guy asked me out so we’re gonna get some dinner or something.”
“Sounds exhilarating,” he mused.
He was always like that — judgemental, mocking, and irresistible. Desperate to not be that weak, pathetic girl, you’d force yourself to move on, to see what else was out there because that thing you had with him?
It was unsustainable.
With a sigh, you shrugged on your shirt. “Suguru, don’t.”
He chuckled and raised his arms up in surrender. And then you turned to leave but you didn’t get every far, how could you when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest? You were breathless when he brushed your hair back, skimming his lips down the curve of your neck to plant a soft, barely there kiss on your shoulder.
“Have fun.”
And then you were off.
Leaving a long-haired man alone and frowning. Truthfully, he was itching to keep you there, to distract you with some more pleasure or a movie, but he knew that wasn’t fair. The unspoken part about the type of arrangement you two was that no one could get jealous or lay some moronic wolfy-claim on the other.
He focused his attention instead on showering, washing away the remnants of you and even tried to wash away the idea of someone else taking you away. If this date of yours worked out, then that would effectively end your special relationship, devolving back to just ‘friends’.
How pathetic.
No, that wasn’t the most pathetic thing about the entire ordeal. What was truly more pathetic was that he was sat, in his car, outside your place, waiting for that light in your bedroom to go and for you to leave.
You didn’t.
Geto groaned and threw his head back. Relieved as he was that you weren’t with some other prick, he couldn’t shake off that discomfort in his chest at the thought of you being disappointed, embarrassed or anywhere close to sad. He sent a quick text to you. Come out, he said.
Your reply was, I’m not in the mood for sex.
Good. Neither am I.
'...' danced on the screen for a solid minute or two and he thought you were coming up with colourful ways of telling him to disappear, like 'walk off a cliff' or the classic 'fuck off', but you didn’t. Instead, he got a thumbs up and he sighed.
Guess neither of you were willing to give up the game after all.
Choso
He heard it from his brother.
Who heard it from Megumi and he in turn heard it from Nobara. And the details might have differed somewhat as the information got passed along, like the time and place and with whom, but one thing remained consistent.
You have a date.
And man, was Choso distraught. At first, he was speechless, eyes blinking and jaw hanging. Then, he was making odd noises like steam was coming out of his ears. No one knew what to do, no one had ever taught them what the procedure was when a half-curse, half-man suffered from a nervous breakdown.
Eventually, he regained enough life to splutter, “WHAT?”
He fainted.
When he awoke, laid down on a bench, he was very surprised to find you looming over him. You looked beautiful. Positively stunning, and he was certainly stunned. He had a terrible dream, one that left him trembling, but your laughter stilled his shaking hands.
“Choso, did you actually pass out? That’s so crazy.”
The man couldn’t even blush. He was just so happy you were there, with him, talking and laughing, and he could pretend nothing was wrong in the world. Because, if you could smile at him with so much warmth and light and familiarity, there didn’t seem a plausible way for things to be wrong.
Pushing himself upright, he said, sheepishly, “Yeah, I think so. Um, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, y’know, just stopping by to check up on you –”
“That’s really nice of—”
“Before I head off to meet my date!”
"...what.”
You blinked at him. “I have a date. Surprised you didn’t know since the kids have been bothering me about it all day. Well, anyways, happy to see you figuratively back on your feet. Gotta get going now. Bye!”
And then you were gone, completely oblivious to the twitching of Choso’s eye and the way his pigtails quite literally deflated.
There was a pout on his face the rest of the day.
Only on his way back home did that pout disappear because, there, at the end of the street, was you. Only you could look that pretty when miserable. Oh, he was so happy to see you!
Sure, you looked upset, and you were kicking a streetlamp, but he wasn’t the least bit discouraged from skipping over to you, pigtails swinging and a big, wide grin on his face. He shouted your name. You looked up, still mad, but brows relaxing ever so slightly.
“Oh, hey, Cho. What’s up?”
“Nothing! Just heading home. What about you?”
You shrugged. “Well, I was supposed to be on a date, but he never showed up. Didn’t even text me so I guess I’m gonna head home too.”
“Oh, no. That’s terrible.”
The amused look on your face clearly conveyed your disbelief. Choso was many things, a great man, loving brother, fun friend. But a convincing liar? He was not.
“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “do you wanna just be with me? I mean! Do you want to spend some time with me? Hang out?”
You shrugged again, this time with a smile. And the both of you began walking side by side with no particular destination. He didn’t talk much, just wandered the streets with you. The sun, or at least what remained of it, was warm and the roads were empty. Neither of you could think of a better thing to do than just exist.
Together.
Toji
“Whatd’ya just say?”
He was staring at his kid, the little boy peering back at him with a look of pure innocence. The father, holding a spoon up to his lips, was pissed the hell off. Immediately, he was calling you, still feeding the baby. Your nonchalant voice on the phone made him even more irritated.
“Ya going on a date? Whatd’ya mean ‘none of y’r business? ‘Course it’s my business. Mother of my son prancing around with some other guy ain’t a good look on me, is it? Oh, yeah yeah, the divorce didn’t look good on you either, whatever. So? Is it true? Oh, hell. Can I use my veto? Whatd’ya mean I don't get a veto? What kinda bullshit is that?”
The little boy blabbered, rubbing salt in the man’s wound, as he reminded him his diaper needed changing, immediately, and he had blueberry compote all over his face and clothes. How the hell did the kid manage to get food on the window?
You didn't sound impressed at all, but that was always how you talked to him. And the conversation wasn't going anywhere, much to Toji's frustration. Why did he have to find out from a toddler?
Call ending soon after that, the two boys decided to make the most of their day together.
Sat on his lap, they watched a football game on the TV. Of course, his son wasn’t really paying attention, he was far more interested in the rattling toy in his hand, and in all honesty, neither was Toji. He just kept thinking about the fact that you should be there, with them, cuddled up to his side. Not with some fucking loser. You should be home, comfortable, looking pretty for him and with a ring still on your finger, the way his ring remained on his.
But who was he to say shit?
It was his damn fault to begin with that you were living apart. If only he had cut back on the bad habits and the dangerous jobs. Regret was a damned thing, like a coin dropped in a well and never hearing it drop.
And then searching for another coin so you could wish to get back the fucking coin you should have never dropped to begin with ‘cause you weren’t a fucking pussy.
Ah fuck it.
“Wanna go piss off y’r mum?”
The kid grinned.
And so there the two were, showing up at the door, both with shit-eating grins contrasting your stern glower. You were in a dress, a very sexy dress and Toji wasn’t shy about letting his eyes wander, and you weren’t shy about the finger you showed him.
“Are you kidding, Fushiguro?”
“Kid couldn’t stop asking for ya, so just wanted to let him get a peek before you go off on y’r fancy date,” he replied.
You let them in and with embarrassment lacing your words, you admitted, “Well, date’s cancelled. So, good timing.”
Grin widening, he assured you, “Ah the bastard doesn’t know what he missed out on.”
And soon, you two fell into old routines. You cooked dinner whilst Toji set the table, kid on his back. The conversation shifted from anything and everything and nothing. And after, he cleaned up as you put the baby to sleep. He followed soon after, looping an arm over your shoulder.
“We did good with him, didn’t we?”
When life was that easy, that simple, and good, one was left wondering where did it all go wrong? When did you, or him, or both start wanting more? Or was it the case that things just didn’t work out? Was there still a chance? Should there be? And for whose sake?
Guess none of that mattered. Whether that piece of paper was still there or not, the core of your relationship would never change. Not really.
“Yeah. We did.”
Nanami
There you were, a vision in your suit, sitting at your desk, the way you did every day. He loved his seat; he had the best view of the entire office. Kento especially loved that, for you to get to the water cooler, you had to walk past him, and every single time you did, you’d always stop by, asking how his day was going and whether he’d like his water bottle filling up.
Of course, he declined your very kind offer, but only so he could walk to the water cooler with you, and for the five minutes you two had, you’d chat about all sorts of things – he was more of a listener than a talker, but you never seemed to mind.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you were the one good thing about this office, and he certainly looked forward to every little interaction with you.
Until one such interaction became his worst nightmare: you had a date. Oh, and how casually you brought that up to him, as if the fluttery atmosphere between you was a figment of his imagination and the way you gushed about this other man certainly left no doubt in his mind.
You did not like him the way he liked you.
That was all he could think about the rest of the day. Even as he wrote up a progress report, attended a client meeting, ate his lunch with the interns he was in charge of, and even when he went to the bathroom to splash cold water on, what he was only then realising to be, a very pale face. Kento must be coming down with something.
For the first time ever, when you got up from your desk and strolled over to his, heels clacking, and asked if he’d like his bottle filling up, he declined. It came out faster than he could process and the shock evident in both of your faces was like a crack in his glasses.
Oh, dear.
You were silent until the end of the day. He didn’t walk out with you, didn’t even get to say goodbye and ‘see you tomorrow’, and he had never been more miserable in his entire life.
With a heavy sigh, he walked out of the office an hour or so later than everyone else and pulled on his tie. A nice warm bath was all he could think about, at least until he spotted you, waiting on the side of the road. You were restless, shuffling on your feet and checking your watch every couple seconds. Being of above average intelligence might not have meant he was a genius but it sure did mean he was smart enough to figure out what had happened.
That bastard.
“Would you like to have a drink or two with me? There are some things I’d like to talk to you about,” he said. Perhaps he shouldn’t have walked up so quietly but it was a habit of his. In that moment, as his pulse was beginning to speed up, all he could think about was how creepy he sounded – he certainly wouldn’t blame you if you ran to HR.
“What things?” You asked.
He smiled, a desperately casual smile to show he was sorry for his cold display. “Well, for one, I’d like to make my case clear; I’d never leave you waiting for me on a date.”
And he never did.
Sukuna
“Repeat that for me. Slow.”
You bit your lip, not at all surprised by his reaction. The King of Curses wasn’t known for his calm disposition, in fact, he was known for exactly the opposite. Still, he was nice to you, an ordinary servant in his grand estate doing this and that. One could not put a finger to exactly when this...friendship, should we say... developed but it was one you so terribly cherished.
Working at the estate of a mass murdering, sadistic monster – your family’s words, not yours – meant you didn’t maintain many friendships. So, to have one with him felt like standing in the eye of the storm, even if that storm was always so fickle and the eye kept moving.
“I’m. Going. On. A. Date,” you recited, enunciating every syllable loud and clear. When he gave an instruction, you’d found it was always best to be quite literal, lest he tired of your mortal limitations.
“No.”
Blink.
Blink.
Adjusting your robes, you clarified, “No? Sorry, my Lord, but whatever do you mean by ‘no?’”
The tall, hulking man, or rather curse, walked on, his long legs taking him so far within seconds you had to run to catch up. He loved doing that. He thought it funny, you supposed. “Just that. No.”
“But, my Lord, I don’t think you can really interfere with my personal life.”
He stopped.
You bumped into his back, the smell of sweet death and gentle fire filling your senses. And when he turned, looking down at you with all those eyes, one of his hands gripped your jaw, pulling you upwards and much closer to his face than ever before.
“Can’t I?”
Then he was gone.
You didn’t see him the rest of the day. Neither did any of the servants. Perhaps he was mad at you, after all you had no business, and no authority at that, to tell him what he could or couldn’t do. You got complacent, too confident and cocky. You overestimated the depth of your friendship and the limits of his patience. It would be a surprise to no one if you were found dead before dusk.
There were no texts from your date. Not a single one. Not even after you texted to ask if you were still on for night. And when every call when to voicemail, you were so sure you had been ghosted before you could even meet the guy. Sukuna was right.
Men were no good.
Living at the estate had its perks: no commute, easy access to your necessities lest you forgot something essential, and the walk over to your quarters was magnificent. The well-kept garden was beautiful and that was really as far as your feeble mind could go in terms of putting into words the glorious sight you saw every morning and night.
But that evening had been different.
Your master was there, in his robes, bottom set of arms tucked into the sleeves whilst the top set were crossed. He looked just as regal as he always did, and the sight made your heart clench. One secret you’d take the grave would be that the friendship you so sincerely cherished was one you also sincerely resented; to be a teased with all that you could have but would never get was a torturous pain you wouldn't wish on your worst enemies.
“My Lord, may I help you?”
He beckoned you over. When his hand reached for your head, you were sure it was to slice it clean off, but instead he picked at a fluff and flicked it away with so much disgust, revulsion, and abhorrence you couldn’t help but laugh.
Something flashed in his eyes. And then his features softened.
“You did not go on your date?”
You couldn’t even pretend to be sad. “No, he never replied so I guess he lost interest.”
He hummed.
The two of you began strolling again, just as you did most days, sometimes even multiple times a day when he was feeling especially irritable. The tone of his voice held a certain sharpness you couldn’t quite place and when he met your gaze, the soft glow of the lanterns making him look gentler, much more human, more...attainable, you finally spotted a speckle of what you knew to be blood, having cleaned it off the floors and walls yourself too many times.
And your imagination ran wild, a frenzy of butterflies appearing in your stomach.
Sukuna really was too sweet for your own good.
#Jjk x reader#jjk fic#Jjk fluff#Gojo x reader#Gojo fluff#Geto x reader#Geto fluff#Choso x reader#Choso fluff#Toji x reader#Toji fluff#Nanami x reader#Nanami fluff#Sukuna x reader#Sukuna fluff#jjk oneshot#gojo fic#gojo onehot#geto fic#geto oneshot#choso fic#choso oneshot#toji fic#toji oneshot#nanami oneshot#nanami fic#Sukuna fic#sukuna oneshot#jjk angst#jjk crack
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II HANDS II HEAVEN; dr jack abbot x dr!reader
words: 5,800+
content warnings: lowkey SO filthy, but also SO cute, banter, caretaker jack, yearning jack, tad bit angsty, patient does die at some point, may be my favorite one i have written
notes: because dr jack abbot has two hands and boy does he know how to use them
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Have you two kissed and made up yet?” Bridget asks, eyeing them.
“In his dreams.”
“In his dreams.” Jack imitates mockingly, high pitched.
“You know, for an old man, you have a lot of growing up to do.”
She can tell by the amused look dancing on Jack’s face that he is about to imitate her words again.
She raises a finger just as his mouth opens, “Don’t-“ she presses her finger to his chest, “you dare.”
His head tilts down. His gaze follows her finger, falling right into her trap. She quickly trails her nail back up over his chin then his lips and finally, flicking him in the nose.
She is cracking up laughing. Bridget is too. And Jack is pretending to be annoyed. “Oh and I’m the one who needs to grow up?!”
“You guys need to get a room. Preferably Trauma 1 because we have a patient incoming.” Bridget shoos them away from her nurses station, a grin still playing on her lips as she shoves two gowns into Jack’s outstretched hands.
Once inside Trauma 1, Jack grabs her arm. He signals for her to lift them as he reaches around her - her back to his front, he ties the gauze gown around her waist and then goes for the tie around her neck. The one they normally never have time to tie anyways.
“You know I love it when you dress up for me.”
His minty breath tickles the back of her neck as he speaks. He can’t see her roll her eyes but he knows that she is. He knows her like the back of his hand.
“And you know I’m still mad at you.”
“Well if you would listen to me for once in your life-���
“You are not my boss anymore. I don’t have to listen to you.”
“Oh, because you listened so well when I was your boss, hm?”
“I can finish tying my gown. Your hands are full.”
“I’ve got two hands.”
And just like that it's decided and he's finishing up tying her gown. They have no reason to be this close to each other anymore but neither of them moves a muscle. He reaches around her to grab a pair of gloves and he takes his sweet time while doing so.
She sneaks a glance at the prominent veins in his forearms and wishes she didn’t. Why does he always have to look so damn good?
The doors are slammed open by a gurney. “Showtime.” is all that tumbles out from her mouth before her and Jack are back in their usual rhythm.
Or their somewhat usual rhythm. In the trauma bay, residents typically stood at the head of the bed. Their main responsibility was keeping the patient’s vitals steady. Protecting the precious breath that told everyone else in the room that the patient still had a fighting chance.
Ever since she became the night shift's second attending six months ago, Jack and her were still getting used to sharing opposite sides of the bed. Jack was used to looking up from the patient and her eyes already being on him, silently asking him for direction. Now, it’s like she forgot he was even in the room.
Unless, of course, they were debating their differing opinions on the standard of care for the patient.
So yeah, maybe Jack had been picking a few unnecessary fights here and there just to get something from her. He never said it was healthy but he didn’t know what else to do.
He missed her. He missed guiding her hand through a procedure and the way she would look back at him with an expectant smile, waiting for his praise. Practically needing it.
He always gave it to her. Usually sticking with “Well done” or “Solid work” because the one time he went to say “Good job”, a “Good girl” slipped halfway out instead. Thank god no one had noticed.
It makes him sound like an ego maniac, and he promises he isn’t, but he relishes in that feeling of her needing him. Or at least thinking she did. Of the fact that the smartest most competent doctor the halls of this ED had potentially ever seen, looked to him for guidance.
He wanted to take care of her - beyond work. He'd come to terms with his crush years ago but also came to terms with the fact he could never have her. At the time he was her attending and even now that he isn't - he is still at least 12 years her senior and carries more than enough baggage for the both of them.
So he settled for taking care of her at work. Sometimes he pushed the boundaries with the praise and the extra teas but he took care of her within the appropriate context of their working relationship. Until now, apparently. Now that she wouldn’t let him.
Jack had been spoiled all these years. Pouring his knowledge into residents, and a lot of them were great, but none of them had ever quite surpassed what he could do in the ED. But now here she was, mopping the floor with him. He’s proud of her. And he would love it even more than he already does if she would just pay an ounce of attention to him. God, he was starting to sound pathetic.
After her first six months of residency, Robby transferred her to the night shift. He told Jack he was getting a good one. One who saw every single patient as a person rather than a box to be checked, even on the bad days. One who probably single handedly kept the patient satisfaction scores of the ED afloat. But that came at a price - it slowed her down. Impeded on her education. She needed to move quicker and Jack was the kind of teacher to teach her how to do just that while still maintaining her inquisitively kind nature.
She was a damn good doctor but Robby knew that under Jack’s watchful eye and baptism by fire teaching style - she could be great. And she was great.
She is great. So far beyond great, Jack catches himself watching her in awe most nights. But right now he was watching her with concern.
The young girl on the table beneath them was not going to make it.
She was normally better than him at this, less emotional, about knowing when to call it.
But he knew why she wasn't going to be right now. The patient on their table looked eerily like her little sister that she had lost to the same kind of drunk driving accident when she was a kid.
The older sister was even out in the family waiting room - holding her sister’s favorite stuffed animal. She had said she was holding on to it while her sister got better. To keep it warm for her.
It was a bright pink stuffed rabbit. The same kind she had clutched the night her sister died. That she never was able to return to her sister. Jack knew he was the only one in the ED that knew that. She’d told him so one night on the roof after a particularly bad shift. What Jack didn’t know was that he was the only person she’d ever told.
They had a way of bringing that out in each other. Neither of them pushed and that’s probably why they could so effortlessly pull stuff out. Neither of them were an open book to anyone but each other. He makes her feel understood. She makes him feel safe. They make eachother feel the most themselves they’ve ever felt.
But right now all he was making her feel was anger.
“Call it.”
“There was just a pulse a second ago.” They both knew there hadn’t been. Jack doesn't say it though.
She had taken compressions over from Whitaker. Wanting to do this one herself. Making it worse on herself.
“Call it.”
“She can still make it. Let me try one more time.”
Jack silently signaled for everyone else to leave the room and move onto their next call. The girl was gone. At least they could all try and replace this horrible memory by hopefully being able to save the next one.
“I said - call it.” Jack’s voice was low but still steady. Still calm. He wasn’t trying to pick a fight this time. He just wanted her to free herself of this burden that was not hers to carry.
“And I said, let me try one-“ compression “more” another compression, “time” compression.
So he let her. Not because he thought it would work. Precisely, the opposite actually. He knew she would never forgive herself if she didn’t feel that she gave every last ounce she had. Selfishly, he also knew she’d never forgive him for calling it earlier than she thought they should have.
One more compression and then a flat line on the monitor.
Beyond the occasional puff of air coming from her mouth as she caught her breath, you could hear a pin drop in the trauma bay.
Jack’s behind her again, gently untying her now bloody gauze gown. She turns to him. As much as they’ve been going at it lately, he is who she wants in these moments. In all the moments, really.
He slides off his gloves and then her own, not breaking eye contact the entire time.
His hands move to her shoulders and then slowly drag down to her triceps - steadying her and studying her. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. Just delicately searches her eyes with his own. Asks her if she’s okay and then assures her it’s going to be okay - all without even opening his mouth.
She tries to keep the tears in with deep breaths. Her palm pressing against her forehead.
“Time of death-“ She inhales shakily, “04:44.” She slaps her palm over her mouth like she just summoned death itself with her words. Then the dam breaks.
“Jack, I can’t-“ She barely gets out between hiccups.
“Shhhhh - I know. I will.” Tell the family is what she means. He’ll do that for her. He’d do anything for her.
And then he’s reaching his hands to cup her face and pulling her against him. Letting her cry it out against his chest.
Her arms wrap around his middle, squeezing so hard it was almost like she thought he’d disappear if she loosened her grip. He rubs up and down her back with one hand, cradling her head in his other and pressing the occasional kiss to her temple.
He whispers into her hair, “You are the best emergency physician I have ever seen. If you couldn't save her, no one could. If the person I cared about most in the world had to be in a trauma bay - you are who I would want to be in charge of it.”
That catches her off guard. They spend a lot of time together. More time together than with any of their family or friends or any potential partner. They talked a lot. About basically everything but that private part of their lives. She always assumed it was because neither of them really had much to report back on but his words are the first time she lets her mind think otherwise. That he may have someone that isn’t her. The thought terrifies her beyond belief.
Technically, they were single. They weren’t each other's. But - yes they were.
“Who is that?”
“What?”
“That you care about most in the entire world?”
Jack wasn’t even sure when it happened. Probably in between the dates on the rooftop that were probably only dates to him and the early morning carpools when he purposely took the long way home just to spend more time with her.
He takes a sharp inhale and blinks. Hard - like he’s just realizing now what his answer is. Like it always felt so natural that he never had to think too hard about it, “You.”
They’re both frozen and then she’s huffing a nervous laugh and pulling out of his grip. Avoiding his eye contact. Back to ignoring him. Back to pushing him away.
“Very funny.” She quips as she walks to the door, pretending to be engrossed in attempting to fix the hand sanitizer dispenser that’s been jammed for the last four months.
Jack stays in place like the soldier he is, “I’m serious.”
That brings her gaze back to his. Her jaw drops slightly, her pupils dilated. He thinks he sees hope in her eyes. The observation gives him some too.
He thinks he’s caught her off guard but what she says next practically knocks the wind out of him, “Me too.”
“What?”
“The person I care most about in the entire world. It’s you, Jack.” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she’s pushing out of the room.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
They don’t talk again for the rest of their shift. Not really, anyways. The ED is absolutely slammed. They’re basically running from trauma bay to trauma bay, room to room - even once to the ambulance bay. That’s how you know it’s busy.
But wow do they make a fucking phenomenal team. When they are on, they are on. They were close, but they didn't lose anyone else that night.
They catch their breath at the lockers, after the hand off with the day shift.
Jack wraps an arm around her head, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Go home. I’ll order Thai food to your place. Watch that trash TV you like. Shower. Cry. Cry in the shower. Sleep. Just know you gave everything you had tonight. Do not beat yourself up over this.”
“I don’t think the other people at the gym would appreciate me crying in the showers.”
“Why are you showering at the gym?”
“My apartment building has the water turned off for the day. I don’t know - they are fixing something. And there is no shot in hell I am showering here.”
“Come on. You’re coming home with me. Shower at my place. I’ll cook us breakfast while you do so you can cry in peace.”
The silence hangs between them. An expectant silence but one that says that if they are alone in a place that isn't the hospital - it is going to be damn near impossible to remain professional.
“Jack-“
“Let me take care of you, please. You deserve it, especially after tonight.”
And for once, she listens.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Jack busies himself with the omelettes and tea he’s making because if he thinks too hard, or at all, about her naked in his shower - he is going to combust.
The thought of her fully clothed in his space is enough to do his head in. He cannot even begin to let his brain broach the thought of her naked one floor away.
He is setting her favorite hot sauce, the one he hates but always kept in his fridge in case this moment ever happened, on the counter when he hears the water being turned off upstairs.
A couple light footsteps, the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and then his name. "Jack, where is your lotion?!"
"It's in the cabinet up top - furthest to your right." He yells back. Normally he would go up there and just grab it for her but he only has so much self control. It will all probably go down the gutter if he goes up there and sees her in only a towel.
"I can't reach it."
He curses under his breath and heads up the stairs - two at a time. He is not religious but he is praying to whoever will listen that she is wearing some semblance of the clothes he laid out for her. Now that he thinks about it, that might be worse.
Either way, he is in trouble. He stops outside his bathroom door and knocks lightly, " Can I come in?"
"No, I'd like you to get the lotion down from outside the bathroom." She sasses.
He smirks as he turns the knob, muttering something about her being a smart ass and a pain in his ass. He swallows hard at the sight of her.
She looks stunning because when does she not. He traces her collarbones with his eyes, down her arms, and over her legs - finally up to her face. Her eyebrow is lifted and a coy smirk on her face. Oh, she knows exactly what she is doing.
Jack shakes his head, as if that would get the thoughts of what is hiding under her towel out of his head.
He just clears his throat and reaches up to the cabinet, settling the lotion onto the counter, "Here."
She doesn't even pretend to grab it. Just lets it sit in between the sinks. In between them.
“Thank you - for today. I’m sorry, I’ve been a little bratty lately. I just had to prove to myself I could do things without having you in the room to encourage me to.”
“No, you have nothing to apologize for. I should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much I would have to get used to you not needing me anymore.”
“I may not need you anymore but I still want you, Jack. I always will. But I probably haven’t shown that too well the past couple months so I’ll cool it with the attitude. I know you’re always just trying to help.”
“You don’t have to do anything on my account.” A beat and then, “It’s hot when you talk back.”
If Jack could shove those words back into his mouth - he would. He doesn't know what came over him, why those words came out - maybe something to do with the way she is staring at him. Eyes half lidded as she looks up at him through her lashes, a subtle grin as she bites her plump bottom limp.
"I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate."
“Jack-“
"We can just pretend I nev-"
She places a hand on his chest to interrupt his rambling and he pauses almost instantaneously, “Jack - I talk back because I think it’s hot when you put me in my place.”
Oh.
He looks down at her and lets out a low whistle, “You have no idea how bad I want you. How bad I’ve wanted this since the day you walked through the doors at the Pitt but I will not take advantage of you.”
His hands stay firmly planted to his sides but gosh she's making it really hard to keep still.
“Not even if I beg?”
He takes a sharp inhale, rubbing the back of his neck and then over his face with his palm, “You had a bad night. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret just because you’re upset”
“Jack, do you remember my first night shift? As an intern?”
“Yeah, of course. Knew I was in trouble from the jump.” He talks faster than she has ever heard him. She can tell he is a bit confused. What does her first intern shift have anything to do with why she is half naked in his bathroom almost four years later?
“That morning, when I went home, I had this dream and- fuck- you couldn’t keep your hands off me. I’ve been upset a lot over the years. I’ve been ecstatic, I’ve been angry beyond belief and every other emotion in between. But the one thing that’s always stayed the same is that at the end of every day, I wished I was coming home to you. I'm not going to regret this because I love you, Jack. No matter what kind of day I have. Good, bad, or ugly - you are always the best part of it."
“God, I think I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that.” His hands fly to cup her jaw, he looks right in her eyes before he kisses her with everything in him. He pulls away barely, his forehead resting on hers, to whisper, “I love you. So much.”
"Can you show me - because I didn't call you up here in just my towel to chit chat."
Jack chuckles, his hands find her hips. He gives them a squeeze before he turns her around to face his bathroom mirror. They lock eyes through the glass and for the second time today, her back was to his front.
“What would everyone say if they heard you were such a slut for me.”
“Probably, ‘In his dreams’”
“Behave.” She can feel Jack smirking into the skin on her neck as he kisses her there. Long and slow - she whimpers at the feeling.
“I’ll think about it.” Her voice comes out shaky - clearly reflecting the effect he is having on her.
All in one swift motion, Jack unties and drops her towel, lightly smacking her ass.
“I said behave.”
She goes to roll her eyes. Not because she doesn't like what he is doing - because she loves it. Absolutely loves riling him up. But he knows her and he knows she's going to do that so before she even can, he smacks her ass again, murmuring a “So fucking perfect” as he rubs the red mark he left.
“Show me you can listen and I’ll be a lot nicer, angel.
All she can do is let out a whimper of his name. It is music to his ears.
Jack trails kisses up her neck then pecks one to her mouth before he’s grabbing her chin. They make eye contact through the mirror, one of his hands on her chin and the other splayed dangerously low pressing against her stomach.
He swipes his thumb against her lips as he whispers in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek and she can’t help but imagine how it will feel between her thighs. “Let’s put that mouth to better use, huh?”
He swipes two fingers through her glistening folds. He can hear how wet she is. Feel it threatening to drip down her thighs. She moans at the emptiness - his fingers leave her and press their way into her mouth. His fingers weigh heavy against her tongue as her lips close around them, sucking, but never losing his eye contact. Jack groans at the sight.
“Taste yourself for me, baby. Look at how pretty your mouth is when you aren’t giving me attitude.”
Her knees are already threatening to give out and he’s barely even touched her yet. Anyone else wouldn’t notice the slight wobble. But he did. He notices every little detail about her - how could he not?
“You like it that much, hm sweetheart?”
She can’t manage words. Only a low moan and a nod as she presses her back against his front, feeling his bulge through the sweatpants he’d changed into when they’d gotten home. “Jack please, I want to see you. I want to feel you.”
“Greedy, yeah?”
“Jack, please. Too many clothes.”
“Shhh - I told you I was gonna take care of you tonight, yeah? Let me baby. Then you can have me. Be patient.”
Another moan pulled from her.
“You’re the most stunning woman I have ever laid my eyes on, you know that right? And so damn smart. My smart baby, yeah?"
She turns to face him, running her hands over his chest and then down his biceps as he talks. She takes her time. She’s trailed the veins of his large arm muscles with her eyes more times than she can count. Now that she gets to do it with her hands, she may never stop.
She gets to his hands, god those hands. His capable, strong, sturdy hands. She remembers what he said earlier today, about having two hands, and she feels her cheeks tinge pink. She’s seen his hands perform extraordinary miracles but she has a feeling the one he performs on her now will be her favorite.
His hands knead her hips as she goes, both of them relishing in each other's touch, until she breaks the silence. Her wide eyes look up at him. They look so innocent. Her words are anything but, “I want you to fill me up.”
“Fuck me. You’re gonna kill me.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Are you gonna be a good girl and come when I tell you to?”
“Dr Abbot, I’m always a good girl for you. Especially that night you almost called me one right in the middle of the ED.”
Jack is shocked, “You caught that?”
“Touched myself thinking about it that night.”
He practically moans, “My god.” before he turns her back around to face the mirror. One hand on the back of her neck, the other on the small of her back, slightly bending her over.
Finally, finally he presses two fingers into her. Her head falls back onto his shoulder as he pumps in and out of her, both of their breathing heavy.
“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet.”
“For you? Always.”
He kisses her forehead then tilts her head back up by her chin with his free hand.
“Keep your eyes open, look at me baby.”
His fingers are still working on her. She’s almost there. Gasping for air. Her eyes shut and she's right there until...she's not. He's stopped.
Her eyes flutter open and she doesn't even bother to turn around - just stares at him through the mirror, "What the hell?"
“I said keep your eyes open. I want you to see how good you look taking my fingers, angel. Gonna look even better on my cock”
At the reminder, she buck backs against him.
“Not so fast, baby. Gonna make you come on my fingers. Then on my tongue. Then fill you up. How does that sound?”
“Yes, Jack, please. I need it please.”
“You sure you can handle it, baby?”
“I can-fuck, I can handle it.”
Then he’s working her again with his fingers. She keeps her eyes open, drinking in the filthy sight of them. One of his hands cradling her chin as she rides the other one - she is completely naked and Jack is entirely clothed. It makes her so worked up, her orgasm comes quickly.
“That’s it. Good girl—that's my good fucking girl."
Then he’s stepping around her and sinking to his knees in front of her so she can still see herself in the bathroom mirror. He knocks her ankles a little wider. They’d closed a bit after the last orgasm and she gasps at his tongue cleaning up her first mess and going for a second.
His hands wrap around her thighs, holding her in place. She tugs hard at his salt and pepper curls as she unravels. She looks down at him, craving his eye contact.
He slaps her ass again as a reprimand, “Eyes up. I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me."
The words make her second orgasm tumble out just as fast as the first and she’s pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, placing a blistering kiss on his lips. His hands cradle her jaw and then they are in her hair, tugging slightly.
Their hands desperately clutch at one another as they kiss, gasping into each other’s mouths as if they’ve been starved of one another.
“Jack - clothes off. Now please.”
This time he listens. Then he is back behind her just as quickly as he’s coaxing his length into her. They both sigh at the relief.
“Doing so good for me, baby. Give me one more, yeah?”
He presses his forehead to hers. She nods and he leans up to kiss her temple again before rutting into her. Both of them loudly moaning at the sensation.
“Holy shit. And I thought nothing was gonna beat how fucking delicious you tasted. You feel like fucking heaven, angel.”
His broad hand crowds her neck, forcing her gaze to meet him in the mirror again as his fingers find her clit as he pounds into her from behind. Not too slow, not too fast but intentional - hitting all the right places because although they’ve never done this before he just knows. He knows her.
“Look at how pretty you look taking me.”
“Jack-“ she can’t get the sentence out. She trails off into a string of whimpers and moans as she verges on her third orgasm of the morning. She squeezes her walls around Jack and he grunts, he’s close too.
“So this is all I’ve got to do to get you to listen to me, huh? Why didn’t you just say so baby?”
“Jack-“
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He barely manages to get out.
“Can I come for you?”
At that alone she feels him spilling into her, “Yes baby. Oh my god, yes.” he falters, caging his arms around her, steadying them against the counter as they both ride out their highs.
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Me too- told you to start listening to me.”
“You’re filthy.”
“And you fucking love it.” Jack smirks as he uses one hand to wipe her clean with a warm washcloth, the other hand holds her head against his lips. He presses a kiss to her temple then her lips and then up and down her shoulder and neck until she is a giggling, blushing mess.
Jack picks up his shirt he had laid out for her but leaves the pants. She lets him tug it over her head and hugs him tight when he's done. Arms around his middle, just as she had done earlier. He dips his lips to the crown of her head, arms around her shoulders as he inhales his shampoo in her hair. It makes him want to melt.
He plants a kiss into her hair, "Come on - lets get some food in you."
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Jack didn't think his life could get any better after what just occurred in his bathroom but here she was - barefoot in his favorite shirt - prancing around his kitchen. She fiddles with the police scanner, he told her she could find one of the music radio channels instead. He used the police scanner as a distraction but he doesn’t want any distractions from her.
He restarts the omelettes because he got a little distracted before. He doesn't recognize the song that is on but she must - the way a grin bubbles from her lips. He kisses it off and pulls her into his side as he cooks.
Your love run through me like lava
Pull my fit over these hips
You grip, I grind
Then taste this wine, I'ma taste what's mine
Jack couldn't wait to taste her again. And she couldn't wait to taste him for the first time. If they hadn't just worked a twelve hour shift with little to no food - omelettes would be the last thing on their mind.
'I'll never stop you, you'll never stop me
From bein' whatever we need to be
And in these dark times, I'm so glad that this love is blinding
'Cause all I see is the best of you and all you see is the best of me
And you bring out the best of me
And all I see is everything
Your goals, your glow, your inner being
And our bigger meaning
Jack decided he liked this song. It reminded him of them. They brought life into this world one hour and were saying goodbye to it in the next. But in both hours they helped people. And they helped each other by loving each other through it. Their purposes were intertwined - both inside and outside of that hospital.
So, let's lose us in these sheets, yeah
And when I get up to walk, I wanna feel weak, yeah
Well, I ain't goin' far
So, stay where you are
Feel like you partied in Venus and we woke up in Mars
"You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow. Could barely get downstairs." Jack smiled to himself thinking of how he'd carried her down the stairs just moments ago.
"Oh shut up and dance with me." He turned the stove top off and turned to her. These omelettes were never getting made.
With the way she was looking at him - he was perfectly fine with that.
I been waitin' my whole life
And I'm gonna give you the best years of your life
You and I
He twirled her around as they danced - her singing the last words of the song to him. He didn't care that she had the world's worst singing voice - he was still blushing. Because she'd already given him the best years of his life - he couldn't possibly imagine the happiness that lied ahead of them now that they were finally letting themselves have it.
He felt himself getting emotional. He tugged her to his chest, cradling her head, mindlessly pressing kisses to it - ensuring she was real. That this dream was real.
"Jack"
"Hm, baby?"
The cutest yawn he’d ever heard and then, "Take me to bed, please."
Yep, definitely real.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
They'd been in bed cuddling for a mere five minutes when Jack's phone dings on his bedside table.
“You are not seriously on call right now?” Her head pops up off his chest and he has never been more annoyed at Robby for texting him than he is right now.
Jack groans as he reaches over, “No, just a question from Robby about that heart attack case we had this morning.”
“He can figure it out.”
“Let me answer - it will take two seconds.”
Jack types or at least tries to. She kisses up his neck - lightly sucking at the sensitive spots and then licking over them. Never doing enough to leave a mark. They don't need those questions at work tomorrow. But enough to make him dizzy.
Her legs are tangled in his and he lightly slaps her ass, “Stop being so hot please, I’m trying to get my work done.”
“Work? Flirting with Robby is more like it.”
“My bad flirting is reserved only for you.”
She points at his chest like she had done this morning, “Better be.”
He looks down and she flicks her fingers up, flicking his nose a lot lighter than she had earlier.
Jack is quicker now, grabs her finger and uses it to gently tug - to wrap her arms around his neck and pull her on top of him. Her legs fall to either side of his waist. It is hard to tell where she begins and he ends but they are a ball of laughter as they settle into each other.
She rests her head in the crook of his neck, placing a kiss there as he does the same to her forehead. Her hands play with the curls at the nape of his neck. One of his rubs up and down her thigh. Then her back. The other in her hair massaging her scalp, lulling her to sleep.
“Get some sleep, baby. I’ll punish you for that when we wake up.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“Behave”
“Only cause you said so.”
They both fall asleep with grins on their faces. And wake up with them too.
#jack abbot#the Pitt#the pitt fanfiction#the pitt fic#jack abbot x female reader#jack abbott x female reader#jack abbot x you#jack abbot x reader#dr jack abbot fanfic#dr jack abbot x reader#dr jack abbott#dr jack abbot#jack abott#jack abbot smut
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Knight I just know Bianca gon be blushing and shit when Iris and Haxorus are training Hilbert and Emboar
Gonna be using the same excuse as her alternative version. Saying she wants to study the Bond Phenomenon but staring at Iris 80% of the time
Also I just imagine when Hilbert folded and is laying on the ground, with Emboar and Samurott staring at him, the conversation between him and Iris is what you said, but also
“Arc DAMN that hurts. Man wtf”
“Oh yeah, we feel the same pain our Pokémon feel. We just have a lower pain tolerance than them”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before I told Samurott to attack Emboar??”
“For shits and giggles lol”
Listen, she loves Hilbert and everything, but she can’t resist fucking with him. She just didn’t expect Samurott to hit Emboar that hard
The civil war in Unova may have matured him, but he’s meant to be stupid™️. Especially now that Iris is here with him
LMFAAOOOO REAL THO HAHAHAHAHAH
Look, the moirails together are either really really soft or the biggest crackheads known to man and everyone else has to deal w them Arceus knows they'd be unstoppable if they really were childhood friends lmaooo
Hilbert on the ground looking up at Iris all "you are such a bitch fr"
Iris grins at him, feigning hurt, a hand on her chest, "me? A bitch? Why, good sir, I'm an asshole at best"
"eat shit, whore"
"you first, shitstain"
Low-key angsty but Hilbert now yearning that sense of normalcy omfsss bcndbdnd anyways yeah these two your honour they make me so ill cbxnxn
And def tho, Bianca just staring at Iris bc Iris has a toned body and she has abs and the way her muscles flex when she endured hits from Hilbert too and Arc that is so unfair why is she so attractive cjmsns Hilda's there giving her a look™
"you sure this is still for research?"
"o-of course! Iris said the trainers are part of the battle bond process!"
"I see, well, it just seems you're staring more at Iris than anyone else"
"what no I'm not chmdbd"
Homegirl is not as subtle as she thinks she is lmfao, Hilda has to deal with not only the crackhead energy of Iris and Hilbert, but also Bianca being a gay fuck just staring at Iris and going "oh my Arc,,," everytime Iris looks at her and smirks at her and winks at her Arc she is so fucking unfair Bianca can't focus on her research now cbsmns hahahaha
#bianca is just a gay disaster fr cant blame her tho hahaha#pfft like in that one post of mine chsmjs hahahah#anyways ur honour the moirails being soft but also having the biggest crackhead energy gives me life cbdndn#i know when its angsty moments and such theyd be so so soft#but just on normal days everyone else has to deal w their hijinks lmfao#these two separately are capable people ofc theyre both champions#but together they share one braincell and neither of em are using it lmfao#rebellion au#unova kids#guarurashipping#an ask and an answer#jerseyk112
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Baby fever.
Gong Yoo has forbidden himself to fantasise about a peaceful family life. He does not deserve one, neither does he deserve you as as his partner.
Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x afab!reader (no pronouns used)
Summary: You’re noticing how your husband has been acting a little distant lately but he keeps acting like nothing is wrong. You decide to confront him.
Words: 1.1k
Genre: angsty fluff
Warning: Pregnancy description, spoilers for his backstory
(Here are some HCs on him and other Squid game men as dads and how they act during your pregnancy if you’re interested!!)



He mainly married you to keep up his appearances to the public. That’s what he believed your marriage to be in the beginning anyway, but falling for you hit him like a truck Gong Yoo missed to spot while crossing the street. Now he can barely step outside the door without thinking about you, your safety, your cute face, your lips and whatever else there is to possibly think about a person.
Imagining you pregnant was a rather frequent fantasy he had. Not in a perverse way that could make one wonder about how sane he exactly is, but rather about how adorable you’d look when you waddle around the apartment, how it would feel to hold you from behind and lift your heavy belly for you, the sight of new stretch marks decorating your body more and more, listening to you baby’s heartbeat.
Even the unpleasant aspects of a pregnancy seem appealing to him for some reason. Holding your hair during a wave of morning sickness and emptying your stomach’s contents into the toilet, preparing a warm bath for your swollen feet, odd cravings where he can only pray for his child’s health while you inhale your exotic plate with a smile.
While future players of the game slam their dakji square against the one on the floor, Gong Yoo stood there with his arms behind his back, literally drowning in a baby fever. Only the sound of the square hitting the other and failing to flip over unpleasantly ripped him out of the trance, reminding him of his occupation that would make it much harder to have a simple, oblivious and lovely family life.
You noticed how much somber your husband has gotten lately. Sure, he was still affectionate as ever and never failed to bring flowers, chocolate or whatever else you desired, but you could see how something was clearly bothering him. Asking what is bothering him will only result in him using his charming recruiter persona to deflect your worries right back at you, bastard.
One evening, while your legs were draped over his thighs after making yourselves comfortable on the couch, empty take out boxes on the coffee table in front of you. You were the only one paying attention to the TV broadcast though.
Your husband’s fingers slowly traced invisible patters on your thigh while his eyes glossed over nothing.
“You’re so quiet lately. Did something happen at work?” Gong Yoo’s eyes slowly shifted to look at you, his hand coming to a stop on your thigh right above your knee. He leaned his head back against the couch cushion. “I’m just thinking a lot about you lately. You’re quite distracting, you know that?”
Again, he’s deflection your worry and question to turn it right back at you. Unamused, you slid your legs off his lap and lifted yourself from your comfortably lying position. You were clearly unamused and he could tell. A small sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment. “No, nothing happened at work. I’m really thinking about you a lot lately.”
“Then exactly are you thinking about then?” You noticed his eyes trying to shift away from you, anywhere else than to look into your eyes. Your hand gently took his into yours, your fingers interlocking with his. You watched him glance down at your two rings, the rings that symbolise marriage and partnership. He emitted a deeper sigh. “I’m thinking about our future together, I suppose.”
You cocked your head in confusion. “Kids. I’m thinking about kids.” Gong Yoo elaborated. “Our kids to be exact.” His grip on your hand got a little tighter as if you’re about to pull away. Instead, you pulled his hand towards yourself. “So… what do you think?” You mumbled, briefly running your fingers through his hair.
Your husband shrugged, his lips turning into a small frown. “I want them, don’t get me wrong, I just— I don’t know. I’m not sure if I…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “If you want them with me, if I would be a good father… My own father wasn’t the greatest and what if I’m going to be just like him, you know?”
Silence fell between you two, the TV serving as l white noise in the background. An endearing smile broke out on your face as you ran your knuckles over his surprisingly sweaty cheek. Opening up to you takes a toll put of him apparently. His eyes closed shut as you briefly admired his lashes fluttered against his skin. His whole face softened.
“So, firstly, I do want children with you and only you. Remember that.” The cold metal of your ring made Gong Yoo shiver under your touch. Your hand cupped his cheek as he slowly opened his eyes again. “Secondly, you’ll be a good father, someone yours never was.”
Your husband scoffed slightly as a larger smile began to break out on his face. It was a little funny to him how you answered him so honestly and kindly, not even knowing the full story between him and his father and how it ended.
Your words did warm his heart. The fantasy of a perfect life with you didn’t seem so taboo anymore, so distant and unreachable. It felt like it was just a moment away.
Gong Yoo leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your lips, his lips felt soft and gentle. His warm breath fanned your face as his hand slipped out of yours to cup your cheek and angle your face for his tongue to briefly slip between your lips. Pulling away, his forehead rested against yours as his eyes stared into yours.
“Do you mean that? Are you really sure?” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at how nervous he really was. “I am as sure as I was when I married you, dear.”
Your husband leaned back in for another kiss, this one was much more brief, teasing almost. “Well would you… like to start trying? For a child I mean.”
💠
Author’s note. Thank you for reading!
As I am posting this I am around 2-3 hours away from arriving at the ski resort. Half of this was written while I was a little nauseous so apologies for any inconsistencies or mistakes as I was in and out of it. The other half was written while I listened to a mix of J-Pop, K-Pop, Hamilton musical, Rap, Odetari. My music taste is quite unique :,) Anyways, I’ll be posting again soon or tonight! It’s going to be either about Thanos or In-ho!
Anyways, make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough!!
Take care or yourselves <3
#💠squid game💠#recruiter x reader#squid game recruiter#the recruiter#salesman x yn#the salesman x y/n#salesman x you#the salesman x you#the salesman x reader#salesman x reader#the salesman#the recruiter x reader#the recruiter x you#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo x you#gong yoo#the recruiter fluff#squid game season 2 x reader#squidgame x reader#squid game x reader#squid game fluff#squid game x y/n#squid game x you#squid game series#squid game#fluff#squid game angst
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THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen
Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader
SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up
WORD COUNT: 2007
WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst
TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]
VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.
As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.
His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.
Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.
It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.
That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.
He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.
“No… No, it wasn’t today…”
Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.
He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.
Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.
Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.
That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.
“Y/N...” he said softly.
You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”
“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”
Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.
“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”
“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”
Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.
“You know this has been really hard for me…”
“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”
“Y/N, I know…”
That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.
“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”
“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”
“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.
“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”
Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.
“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”
Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.
“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”
“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.
“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”
You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.
“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”
“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.
“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”
“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”
You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.
“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”
“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”
“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”
“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”
No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.
Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.
“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”
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