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abigails-gf · 3 days

Note

abby x fem pregnant (and then mom) reader plss

abby anderson x f!reader.

warnings: brief mention of IUI (insemination), reader is pregnant, brief mention of sickness, labor/delivery, some postpartrum baby blues.

a/n: hi! i'm so sorry for taking so long to write this one. i had to do some research for all of this since i've never been pregnant, so i'm sorry if it's not accurate, i guess? i tried my best. i'm super proud of it though, and i hope you all enjoy it too. this one is pretty long, around 6k words. maybe my longest fic? honestly, mama!abby might be my favourite version of abigail. 🫶🏻🫧🫧 she's just so sweet and caring. i love her so, so much. thank you all for the support! thank you. i hope you all like this one. ♡

you and abby had been wanting a baby for a long time. you'd seen multiple doctors, talked to nurses, got a bunch of blood tests, saw files of potential donors...

until the day finally came — around two weeks after the insemination, you had decided to take a pregnancy test. your period was late and the doctor had suggested you to do so. abby went to the pharmacy and got you a pregnancy test. you closed the bathroom door behind you, abby on the other side. a few minutes later, you washed your hands and opened the bathroom door.

abby closed the toilet lid and sat on top of it, pulling you onto her lap. you held the test in your hand. you two waited in silence, waiting to see the second line appear. abby had her arms around you, squeezing you.

suddenly, you squealed. "oh my fucking god!" you and abby looked at the test quietly before she started to tear up. she hugged you tightly, crying into your arms as you started to cry too, looking down at the test. "can't believe it..." she whispered, taking another look at the positive test. "we're gonna be parents." you turned your head a little, facing abby who smiled at you, her cheeks flushed, tears in her eyes. "oh, baby..." you kissed her. "i love you so much. love you so so much." you kissed her lips, cheeks, nose, eyes. everywhere. she chuckled and kissed you softly. "i'm so happy, baby. so happy you're gonna carry our baby." her eyes fell to your stomach. "there's a little guy in there", she sniffled.

she took a few days off, to come with you to the first ultrasound. the doctor applied the gel on your stomach. abby was standing next to you, squeezing your hand.

"ah. there they are... see that little white ball, here?" the doctor spoke in a gentle voice, pointing at the screen as she moved the transducer on your stomach. "see it?" she looked at you. your eyes were fixed on the screen. you could barely see it – see them, your baby. but oh, how you cried. the doctor smiled as abby hugged you, kissing your head. you looked up at the doctor and apologised. she let you and abby alone in her office.

abby took your face in her hands, caressing your cheeks. "we're gonna be mamas, baby", abby spoke, your foreheads touching. "yeah, we are." you looked into her blue eyes. "i love you s'much, angel. my pretty girl. mama of my kid." she kissed you, feeling you smile against her lips.

weeks passed by and abby was still so supportive. you both had noticed the changes in your body: the way your favorite jeans and the bra abby got you for your anniversary didn't fit so well anymore, the little belly bump being more visible. and the way you complained about feeling sore, tired... abby gave you massages each night before bed.

she sat behind you in bed, put some essentials oils on her hands before placing them between your neck and shoulders, softly applying pressure. "oh, god..." you let out. she smiled as she massaged your shoulders.

her hands started to travel to your front, as she massaged your breasts. you had been complaining about them hurting. she held them in her big hands, oiling them. you pressed your back to abby's chest, letting out sighs of contentment. "feels good, honey?" you nodded, eyes closed as she started to play with your nipples. she kissed your neck before massaging your boobs some more. she then let her hands fall on your stomach, rubbing your small bump. you opened your eyes and smiled at her. she looked into your eyes and smiled as she caressed your stomach. "so pretty, mama", she whispered, kissing your shoulder, her eyes on your stomach. you looked at her big hands on it. what a pretty sight, you thought.

she did this for the entirety of the pregnancy, even massaging your feet when you complained about how sore they felt. she made sure to cater to all your needs.

when you started feeling sick, she was there for you, she'd wake up at the crack of dawn to check on you, hold your hair if needed. she had taken notes on what helped with sickness and had gotten you a "snack box" which rested on your nightstand. it contained crackers, ginger candies and other goods. she always made sure you drank water and ate throughout the day.

even when she was at work, she called you to make sure you were alright. "how's my girl doing? you know, mel said fruits helped with her sickness when she was pregnant. can you check if we still have some? i'll go to the market after work if not."

you two would go to the mall on weekends, starting to prepare for the baby. you'd gasp over how small the clothes are. "baby! look, it's so small!" you said, holding a pair of shorts or socks. she'd smile and let you put the pair of socks in the cart. abby had picked a few clothes for the baby as well – since you two didn't know the sex yet, you decided to pick things that would fit them no matter what the sex was. she picked some overalls, some bodysuits. "honey, look. isn't that one cute?" she said, picking up a shark plushie. you smiled. "aww, put it in!" you said. she kissed your cheek, putting it in the cart. "love you and our little shark."

as for the nursery, you two decided to keep it simple for now. you had a spare room in your apartment. you and abby decided to leave the walls white, she hung up pictures of you two on the wall just above the crib that she had built. "baby? you okay if we put this picture of my mom here?" she asked, bringing in a photograph of her late mother. "sure, we could put it on the dresser?" abby put the frame with her mother's picture next to a bouquet of tulips. she turned around and hugged you. "thank you, sweetheart." you hugged her back. "hey, are you alright?" you rubbed her back as she hugged you tightly. she sighed.

"yeah." she pulled away, taking a deep breath. "just wish she was here, is all." you smiled softly and caressed her cheek. "honey... your mom would be so proud of you, i'm sure." she held your hand against her cheek. "i know, i know. i just wish she could meet our kid, be there. you know?" you nodded. "i know, baby. i know."

suddenly, you felt a kick in your stomach. "what's wrong?" another kick. you looked up at abby and smiled. "the baby, it's kicking." you took her hand and rested it on your belly, waiting for the next kick. your hand resting above hers as the baby kicked once more. abby got on her knees, putting both hands on your stomach. you smiled down at her. "hey there, little guy. or girl." another small kick. you both chuckled, looking into each other's eyes, standing in the baby's nursery. abby kissed your belly. "so excited to meet them. so thankful for you, baby." she squeezed your hand.

abby had taken a day off to come with you to your 20 weeks ultrasound. she sat on a chair next to the bed as the doctor put the gel on your belly. "let's see..." she spoke, putting the transducer on your cold stomach. as soon as she did so, the sound of a heartbeat came out of the sonogram. you gasped. "oh my god. is that the baby's heartbeat?" the doctor smiled and nodded. "mhm, that it is." you looked at abby. "that's our baby's heartbeat", you whispered. she squeezed your hand tightly, looking at the screen. you could see the shape of the baby's head, their little nose, and tiny legs curled up. you cried. "they're healthy, all is good, mamas." the doctor moved the transducer to the side, up on your belly. she spoke. "do you guys wanna know the sex?" you and abby looked at each other. "do you want to?" you asked abby. she shrugged. "it honestly doesn't matter to me, i'll love them either way." you smiled and abby kissed your head. "then, no." the doctor nodded and wiped the gel off your stomach.

"would it be possible to have a copy of this ultrasound? like, two of them?" abby asked. "sure, just wait here." the doctor left the room and came back a few minutes later with an envelope containing the scans.

you put your copy of ultrasounds in a photo album, along with the first scans you did months ago. abby had kept one of the photos in her wallet and given the others to her father.

she was the sweetest. you were so lucky to have someone like her by your side, to share your life with her, so lucky to have her be the mother of your child. you wanted to thank her, show her how grateful you were, how much you loved her.

you had planned a date night – a picnic, as the days started to get warmer, longer.

you started to prepare the picnic. preparing peanut butter sandwiches, some carrots to munch on, crackers and fruits. you put a blanket first in the basket, then the food, two wine glasses, some water and the bottle of sparkling apple juice that was in your fridge. you got ready, chose something you'd be comfortable in for the evening. abby and you went shopping for maternity clothes, so you had new clothes to wear. you finished getting ready, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. your bump was now the size of a watermelon, as you entered your sixth month.

you made the bed, picking up something from under it, which you've been hiding for a few months.

abby came home around 7pm. "baby, i'm home!" she looked at the full basket in the kitchen and walked to your bedroom. "pretty girl, hi", she said, hugging you. "what's going on?" she whispered. "thought we could go picnic tonight? a date?" abby smiled and nodded. "so sweet t'me, baby." she lifted your chin up and kissed you softly.

abby drove you two to a park. it was a pretty warm evening. she carried the basket until you found a spot near a tree, the sun beaming through its branches.

you helped abby lay down the blanket. "here, sit, baby." you two sat down next to each other and started getting the food out of the basket. you stayed quiet for a few minutes, enjoying this peaceful moment. "thank you, abby." you broke the silence, looking at her. she looked so pretty, the golden hour resting on her face, making her eyes sparkle. "thank me for what?" she asked, popping some berries in her mouth.

"for being here. for taking care of me, for being the absolute best girlfriend ever." you took her hand in yours and looked into her eyes. "i love you." she kissed your forehead. "i love you more, baby. love you so so much, sweet girl. no need to thank me, i should be the one thanking you. you're carrying my kid, already the best mama in the world. prettiest girl, sweetest girl in the world." you kissed her softly.

you reached for something in the basket, hidden by the tissues. you left abby's hand and looked down at your hands, they were shaking. abby was eating a strawberry, looking ahead. "abby?" she was about to answer, when she looked at your hands. she almost choked on the fruit. "baby?"

"abby, will you marry me?"

you opened the small velvet box, revealing a wedding ring. abby started to cry. "baby... is that..." you nod. "your mother's ring, yes. your dad wanted you to have it." you felt tears on your cheeks, smiling brightly, waiting for abby's answer. "baby, fucking yes, yes, yes!" she chuckled and cupped your cheeks, kissing you lovingly. "of course, i want to marry you." you put the ring on her finger. you wiped her tears as she wiped yours. she brought your foreheads together and smiled. "i love you so fucking much. swear, you're the best girl ever. my wife." she couldnt stop smiling. "my wife, mama of my kid, my sweet girl, love of my life." you giggled and kissed her soft lips.

you two spent the evening at the park, in each other's arms. abby rubbed your stomach, smiling at how big it's gotten. "can't believe it. how did i get so lucky, huh?" she kissed your forehead.

abby's father, jerry, invited you both for dinner one night, to celebrate his daughter's engagement. you and abby were seating on the sofa, abby's hand on your thigh. "i'm so proud of you, sweetheart", jerry said, coming back from the kitchen. he smiled at his daughter and hugged her. "your mother would be so proud, too. i can't believe my baby's gonna be a mother and gettin' married." jerry started to tear up. abby smiled. "dad, don't cry. c'mon."

"happy tears, sweetheart, happy tears", he reassured her. he pulled away from abby and looked at you. "told you she'd say yes." you chuckled. "i know. but there was still a tiny part of me that was scared of a no."

abby looked at you and raised an eyebrow. "really? you're carrying our kid and you expected me to say no? really, baby?" she kissed you. "silly girl." jerry smiled at the sight of you, wiping his tears. he looked at abby's ring finger. abby noticed his staring and looked into his eyes. "thank you for this, dad. you sure you don't wanna keep it?" jerry shook his head. "it's yours, sweetheart. plus, i still got mine to remind me of when your mother was mine - that she is mine." abby hugged her dad tightly and sat back down next to you.

jerry thanked you for carrying his grandchild and making his daughter happy. he even gifted you abby's childhood stuffed animal: a zebra. "thank you, honey. for making abs so happy, for being there for her when i can't. you're a real sweetheart. but i'm sure she tells you that everyday, huh?" you smiled and hugged him. "and you call me if you need anything, okay?"

only a few weeks were left before your due date. abby had gotten used to you waking up in pain, your pelvic hurting and back too. you shook her arm, trying to wake her up. you felt guilty for doing so, but she told you to wake her up whenever the pain was too much for you. "mmh, what is it, baby?" she stretched and opened her eyes. she turned on the bedside lamp and looked at you.

"it hurts." you took deep breaths, trying to calm down. "it's okay, baby. just lay back down, lay down." she helped you, putting the pillow under your head, holding your hand. "deep breaths. that's it, good girl." she rubbed your stomach with her free hand as you hissed at the contractions. laying between your legs, hovering over your belly, abby kissed it. "just lay down for me, baby. deep breaths." you relaxed a little as abby started to caress your stomach. "stay here, pretty girl. just gonna get you some water."

she came back a few minutes later with a bottle of water and sat at the edge of the bed, next to you. "sit up for me and open." abby brought the bottle to your lips and made you drink. "good." she put the bottle on the nightstand and laid back down next to you, rubbing circles on your stomach. "how do you feel now?" the contractions had calmed.

"better. thanks to you." she smiled and kissed your temple. "yeah? come here, sweet girl." she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, spooning you. her other hand on your stomach, continuing its soothing motions. "sorry for waking you up", you apologised. she kissed your neck. "shh, s'alright, mama. told you to tell me if you need anything."

you slowly drifted off to sleep in your wife's arms.

during the last weeks, abby had taken days off here and there, to be by your side. "but what if you go into labor while i'm at work?" that was her worry.

she helped you prepare your hospital bag – packing comfy clothes, sweatpants, pyjamas for you and the baby. toileteries, some essential oils, diapers and things for the baby. she also put the plushies for the baby, but also for you, if you needed some comfort.

thankfully, the day you went into labor was her day off.

you two were on the couch, abby had prepared your favorite for lunch. you were watching a movie, her hand on your stomach as you ate. the plate was balanced on your belly. you were about to put the plate on the coffee table when suddenly you felt something damp. at first, you had thought you peed yourself – which happened once during the last month. you looked at abby and stood up, looking at your seat, feeling the liquid trickling between your thighs. abby looked up at you. "baby, i think your water's breaking", she said calmly. you were in a state of shock, not moving.

abby stood up and put her hands on your shoulders. "baby, look at me. look at me, sweet girl." you did as she told you. "we're gonna get you changed, and then, we'll drive to the hospital. okay?" you nodded.

abby took you to the bathroom and helped you put on a diaper. abby could tell you were anxious and embarrassed. "baby, it's alright. i'm here, i'm here", she reassured you, taking off your soaked clothes. "arms up, baby", she said, helping you get dressed. she seemed so calm compared to you. she kissed your head.

"we'll be okay. promise."

she went to the bedroom and picked up your hospital bag. she helped you put your shoes on.

"come on, baby." she opened the door and took your hand, pulling you out of the house. you stayed close to her, hugging her as she walked you to the car.

in the car, she had her hand on your stomach. "it's alright, baby. deep breaths", she said as you started to have contractions. you listened to her, trying to focus on your breathing.

as you arrived to the hospital, abby held you, an arm wrapped around you. "my wife's going into labor", she said to the secretary at the entrance.

you were laying on a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown as abby sat next to you. you squeezed her hand whenever you felt your stomach contract. "abs, it hurts so much." you said, on the verge of tears. "i know, baby. but you're doing so good. they said you were already 5cm dilated." she kissed your head.

you two had been sitting here for a two hours already. abby tried her best to reassure you, help you. she massaged your shoulders, helped you off the bed when you needed to go to the bathroom, tried to distract you from the pain by talking.

she put a wet cloth on your forehead and caressed your belly. "you're doin' so good, baby. keep on taking deep breaths." she kissed your cheek as you tried to focus on her voice.

"you're doing a good job, just a little more", the obstetrician said between your legs. you were sweating, letting out grunts as you pushed. "slow and long push, come on."

abby let you bite her fingers and squeeze her hand. "you can do it, sweetheart. think of the baby, how happy you'd be holding them in." she kept on patting the wet cloth on your face, caressing your hand.

one last push.

you were out of breath, tired, exhausted, your ears were ringing, your eyes almost closing. but screams woke you up. you flashed your eyes open and looked at the midwife who put the baby in your arms.

as soon as they were in your arms, they stopped crying. their skin covered in white vernix, eyes shut, small fingers moving toward yours. the baby wrapped their small fingers around yours. you started to sob.

you looked at abby, who was crying. she smiled down at you and the baby. "it's our baby," you whispered, looking back down. the midwife wiped the baby a bit, giving you a warm towel to hold them with. "it's a girl, congratulations", she said, smiling at you and abby. "a girl", you repeated.

abby kissed your cheek and your head. "love you and her so much." she cried, her lips against your cheek.

you looked at your daughter, her small hand wrapped around your fingers, the way she looked at you and abby – you were sure there was no greater feeling than this. abby put one of her fingers in front of your newborn, who wrapped her other tiny hand around abby's finger. "hey, sweet girl", she spoke in a soft voice.

"she's so small", she whispered. you smiled. "mhm, but ain't she adorable?" abby nodded and kissed your head. "just like her mama."

a total of 6 hours had passed since abby and you entered the hospital. the sun was slowly setting down. it had been an hour since your daughter was born, she was sucking on your nipple. abby watched you two from her chair.

you looked at her. "thank you for being here, abby. wouldn't have done it without you."

"no, thank you. thank you for being here, for being my wife, for giving birth to our daughter." she kissed your head and looked down at your daughter. "prettiest baby girl, there is." abby couldn't help but grin as she caressed your daughter's face.

"her skin is so soft." the baby moved her face towards abby. "let me hold her", abby said, carefully picking the baby up, making her scrunch her legs. you felt tears running down your cheeks at the sight.

"i'm so scared to move, she's so small." abby chuckled. your daughter in the crook of her big arms, she had her eyes closed, her little chest rising up and down. she was wearing a footie pyjama with different kinds of sharks that abby had picked and a little beanie. abby couldn't peel her eyes off your daughter. "she's so pretty. so small, so soft. and so, so cute. just like her mama." she looked back at you.

"thank you, baby. thank you for being the best wife i could ever ask for." you grinned as abby came closer to you, leaning down to quickly kiss your lips. "i love you, i love you and our daughter more than anything."

the first weeks back home were hard. you had some days were you could barely get up, stayed in bed and only held the baby for her meals or when she was asleep. abby would bottle feed your daughter if you were asleep, or when she woke up during the night. "baby, you don't have to do it. i can feed her, just wake me up", you've told her multiple times.

she walked around your room, bottle in hand, baby in her arms. "shush, mama. you gotta rest. i got it", she reassured you. you looked at your wife and your daughter, who was sucking vigorously on the bottle's nipple.

abby held your daughter against her, gently tapping her back until she heard a small burp. you giggled and abby smiled at you. "cute burp, isn't it?"

abby was there for you and the baby. she took care of you while the baby was napping, giving you massages, preparing you baths, make you lunch. she made sure you felt loved; always reminding you throughout the day how grateful she was to have you in her life.

once, you had sent her to get some diapers and she came back with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "i love you, sweetheart." she kissed your head as you were holding the baby, walking around the house. you smiled and kissed her back. "i love you too, abby."

another night, you had woken up to abby's side of the bed being empty. it was early in the morning, still dark outside. you heard some whispers coming from the nursery. you got up and walked to the room.

the door was opened, the night light casting a blue hue in the room. you could see abby sitting on the armchair, not wearing anything on top, holding your daughter in her arms. abby's braid fell on her shoulder, the baby's hand on her naked chest. abby looked up as she heard your steps. she smiled. you walked to abby's chair and kissed your baby's head. you looked at abby and smiled. "hi." you kissed her lips. "let me put her to bed and i'll join you."

abby stood up, careful not to wake up the baby up. she walked to the crib and gently put the baby inside. you hugged abby from behind, kissing her bare back. abby stayed there for a minute, watching your daughter sleep so peacefully. abby grazed her fingers on one of the aquatic felt animals on the mobile above the crib and turned to face you.

"i love you, so much", she whispered, wrapping her arms around you.

abby's dad often came over. even more since abby had gone back to work after her paternity leave. since he was retired, he had plenty of time to come and help you. he also always insisted on babysitting your daughter so you and abby could go out for dinner or just go out the two of you. you were a bit scared to leave him alone with her at first, not wanting her to feel abandoned or confused. but your daughter seemed to love her grandfather, always reaching out for him when he walked through the door. and he loved her too.

jerry was playing with your daughter on her playing mat. she was giggling as he blew raspberries on her tummy. your daughter was now 4 months old. she was holding her zebra stuffie, which once belonged to abby, in her hand. absolutely adorable, you thought.

abby put a hand on the small of your back as you stood in the doorway. "you ready to go, my love?" you nodded. "mhm. jerry, you're sure you got this?" abby's dad looked up at you two and smiled. "go, don't worry. ow, ow!" he looked down at your daughter who was putting his fingers in her mouth. he giggled and poked her small tummy. "alright dad, call us if you need anything", abby said before walking out of your apartment.

she had booked a reservation at your favorite restaurant. you held her arm as you two entered the place. "here." the waiter said as he guided you to your table.

abby, pulled your chair towards her for you to sit. "well, thank you." you smiled. she sat in front of you, and looked into your eyes. "you look so pretty, baby." she smirked at you. "oh, shush."

dinner went well, abby and you talked about her work, how you've been feeling, and your wedding. "i thought, maybe we could do something, just the three of us. elope." you looked at her. "you don't want to invite your dad?"

"just us three", she reaffirmed. "what do you think?" the waiter came with your desserts, a cheesecake for abby and your usual. "thank you."

"well, i would love that. but when? and where? and what about our families?" abby takes your hand in her. "we could have a small party once we're back. but for now, i just want it to be us three. you, our daughter and me." she smiled softly. she squeezed your hand and looked into your pretty eyes. "as for when and where: how about next summer? i could take a few weeks off. and for where – anywhere my wife wants to go." she brought your hand to her lips and kissed it.

you smiled at her, feeling your cheeks warming. "i love you so much, abs."

"baby? how about catalina island?" you asked abby, scrolling on your phone. abby was changing your daughter, closing her overalls. "let me see."

you put your phone in front of her as she picked up the baby. "oh, s'pretty. can you check the laws on marriage certificates in california?" you nodded, opening another page on your phone.

abby gently bounced the baby in her arms. "we don't need to be from cali to get married, no blood tests required but a we need a witness..." you said, looking at your phone. "alright, i'll check for an attorney and an officiant." abby kissed your head. "you look for a photographer, mmh? and we'll check places to stay at together." you kissed her softly and looked down at your daughter. "your mama is the sweetest. did you know that, sweetheart?" abby blushed and hugged you close.

valentine's day arrived. you woke up, abby already gone to work. you went to your daughter's room to find her already awake, babbling. "hi, my love", you cooed. "hi, my baby." you picked her up and kissed her cheek. you went to the kitchen when you found a small note on the fridge: "happy valentine's day. x i'll come home a bit later. i love you. abs."

you smiled and started your day. you fed your daughter some banana puree. she had grown so much these past few months, already 8 months old. she had grown out of her newborn clothes so fast. you smiled as you put the spoon in her mouth. "good job, sweetheart." she looked up at you and smiled, flashing you her smile, her two bottom teeth showing. you kissed her small nose.

the day went by fast, you and your daughter went out to the park. she was so adorable, looking around, observing the world around her, babbling. then, you went to the florist and got a bouquet of blue hydrangea.

you went back home and put the bouquet in a vase, on the kitchen table. you spent the afternoon with your baby, reading for her, bathing with her. after the bath, you put her in her diaper and pyjamas before doing the same with you. you made your baby some puree and fed her.

you played with her a little until she cried. you breastfed her, watching her slowly dozing off. "mama loves you, baby", you whispered, wiping her mouth and kissing her head. you put your daughter to bed, turning on her night light and mobile.

you went to the kitchen and prepared dinner for you and abby. she finally came home around 7:30pm. she came to the kitchen to greet you. "baby, thanks for the flowers." she spoke, kissing your cheek. "happy valentine's day, my love" you looked at her and kissed her. "what were you doing? comin' home so late?"

she smirked. "had some work to finish." she kissed your head and hugged you from behind.

you two had dinner, talking about your elopement, your day, how much your daughter's growing. "by the way, i checked and we'll have to make a stop for a few days in L.A, to get our wedding license. and then get the ferry to the island." abby explained. "oh, that's alright. yeah, we can do that." abby kissed your hand, sensing you were a nervous. "it'll be alright, i promise."

abby went to take a shower as you waited for her in your bed, reading. she came out of it, wearing nothing but her towel. you looked up from your book and felt your face get warm. all this time, and she still had the same effect on you. she quickly looked for something in her work bag before clearing her throat. she sat on the bed.

"my love?" you nodded. she opened the small box, a ring with a small diamond in it. you gasped. "abby, i can't – why?" she grinned. "course you can, you're my wife. but you'll get to wear it on our wedding day. just wanted your approval. you like it?" you leaned your head on her shoulder and kissed her neck. "mhm. thank you, baby."

she smiled and closed the box, putting it on the nightstand before kissing you. she cupped your face and deepened the kiss.

that night, she came on your tongue, thanking you, her wife. she worshipped your body, kissing you all over. thanking you for being hers, for the kid you had given her. you two made love, whispering "i love you's" to each other.

abby was slowly falling asleep when the baby woke up. you were about to get up when she stopped you. "i got it." she stood up and put a random t-shirt and underwear before going to your daughter's room. you smiled, still wondering how you got so lucky.

the trip to los angeles went smoothly. abby and you decided to pay for an extra sit so you'd have a row for you three, and somewhere to put the baby's bassinet. you made sure to pack enough diapers and changes for the flight. you nursed your daughter during take-off and landing, as you read it helped with ear pressure and she slept during the whole two hours flight. you checked into the hotel you were staying at for the next four days. "we'll rest for the rest of the day and then tomorrow we'll go to the county clerk. the appointment is at 10am."

you spent the rest of the day sleeping, abby took the baby on a walk while you did so. she made sure to put sunscreen on her small face, little arms and legs and even put on her little bucket hat. "you're so cute." she spoke to your daughter, kissing her tummy.

the next day, abby, your daughter and you were on your way to the county clerk. you had checked before hand if you had all the documents needed to request a license. it all went well.

the attorney said that they will call as soon as the license is ready and will assign you a judge. you and abby smiled at each other. "thank you." abby said, shaking the attorney's hand.

two days later, abby got a call on her phone. "hello?" she answered. she looked at you and your daughter, sitting on the hotel bed. she grinned. "amazing! we'll be there. 2pm, today. thank you." she hung up. "they got our license."

abby looked down at you sitting and cupped your face, kissing you. "we're gonna get married, it's official." you kissed her back, holding your daughter close to you. "my wife." you whispered into the kiss. "my wife." she repeated.

you stayed one more day in los angeles before taking the ferry to the island.

the trip on the ferry was a bit hard, despite it being only an hour – your daughter was feeling a bit fussy, probably uncomfortable due to the warm weather. you and abby tried your best to calm her down, make sure she drank water, was changed, rubbed her face with a cold wet cloth. and it's only when abby took her on the deck a bit, the breeze touching her puffy cheeks, that she calmed down.

you rented a small apartment a few minutes by foot away from the beach. the californian sun fell on your skin, making you sweat. you made sure to put sunscreen on your daughter's face, arms and legs and even got her a little bucket hat.

as you three settled in the rental, abby called the photographer and the judge to remind them of the place and time of the wedding.

the photographer had texted that she had arrived to the island a day prior you arrived. "baby? she's asking if we want a pre-wedding photoshoot tomorrow afternoon, at the beach?"

you were in the bathroom, washing your daughter. she's giggling and splashing the water. "how much is it?" abby leaned on the bathroom's door. "says it'll be 90 dollars." you turned around. "do you want to? i mean – it's amazing with the sun, the beach. but do you want to?"

abby smiled and got closer to you, kneeling next to you. "it's our wedding. if you want to, then let's do it." she kissed you softly and turned to your daughter. "does my little girl wanna go to the beach? mmh? wanna go see sharks?" you looked at abby. "wait what? there are no sharks, right?" abby chuckled and kissed your head as you looked at her, confused. "you're too cute."

for your first night in catalina island, you three decided to go out for dinner. you had taken the baby wrapper with you, abby being the one wearing it. one of her hand on your daughter's back and the other hand in yours. the sky was a shade of purple, with some hues of red and yellow. the night slowly setting in.

"hey, baby, what about this one? they got cheesecakes." abby said, stopping in front of a restaurant with a view on the beach. "sure." you kissed her cheek as you entered the restaurant. music was coming out of the speaker. "good evening, a table for three, please. with a high chair, if you guys have that." abby spoke to a waitress.

the waitress smiled and asked you to follow her to a table on the terrace. "here, i'm gonna go get the chair." you thanked her.

you and abby sat across from each other, the sunset on your left and on her right. "look, baby. isn't it pretty? it's pretty, mmh?" she spoke to your daughter, who had turned her head to look at the sunset. "ma" she babbled. you and abby smiled. you couldn't believe she was going to turn one year old in a few weeks. the waitress came back with a highchair, putting it on the side of the table. abby held the baby carefully as she unwrapped her, before putting her in the chair. your daughter held abby's index finger.

you ate, abby and you talking about the next few days, as you admired the view – the sunset and your wife, feeding your daughter some mashed potatoes. "the plane's coming, brr..." abby smiled, bringing the food to your daughter's mouth, she clapped her hands and opened. "the plane landed!"

"you okay, baby?" she looked at you from the corner of her eyes. "mhm, just looking at my beautiful wife and my baby." abby chuckled, wiping your daughter's mouth with a tissue. "i love you."

the next day you met with the photographer at the beach. "just act as if i wasn't there", she said, preparing her camera. you and abby played with your daughter, sitting next to her in the sand as she touched it, smiling as she discovered the new texture.

abby and you walked to the water. you held your baby by her hands and lowered her gently, so her feet touched the water. she moved her feet up. "it's okay, baby. s'just water." she hesitated a second before letting her feet on the wet sand again. abby kneeled and looked at her. "yay!" she encouraged your daughter who started giggling at the feeling of water hitting her ankles. "my little shark." abby pretended to bite your daughter in the neck, making her giggle. "nom, nom, nom..."

abby picked her up and looked at you. your daughter looked at you and reached for you, touching your shoulder as abby leaned in for a kiss. "i love you." you kissed her back and grinned. "i love you too, abby. and i love you too, my baby." you looked at your daughter and kissed her head as she giggled and wiggled in abby's arms.

the sun was starting to set, the photographer was starting to pack her things. "so, after tomorrow's the big day for you, huh?" you smiled and nodded. "we're so excited. thank you again for accepting to be our witness." she smiled. "it's no problem, really. i love photographing elopements, though i don't get to do it as much as i'd like to." she put her backpack on her back and waved goodbye. "see you, lovebirds!"

you couldn't believe that in two days you were going to be married to the love of your life. it all seemed so surreal. "i love you, abby." she hugged you close. "i love you more, sweet girl."

it was finally the day abby and you would officially be wife and wife. you had dressed your little girl in a white dress with her little bucket hat. abby was buttoning her white shirt, wearing a pair of light blue pants. she had her hair down, grinning. her cheeks were flushed. "you look so pretty."

she sat on the bed next to you and kissed your head. "so do you." you were wearing an all light blue outfit that matched her suit. you quietly brushed through your wife's blonde hair, before braiding it. once you were done, she turned to you and kissed you softly. "i love you." your noses touched. you kissed her once more. "i love you too."

you three made your way to the beach, the sun caressing your skins. your baby in her stroller. you met with the judge who was already there, and the photographer.

you placed the stroller in front of the judge, where you stood across from abby, waiting for the judge to start speaking. your daughter looking at the both of you as she nibbled on her teether.

"thank you all for coming here today to witness this union. we are here today to celebrate the love between two - or shall i say, three, people." you chuckled nervously, already feeling the tears well up. abby took your hands hers.

"do you", the judged turned to you, "take abigail anderson to be your wedded wife?" you nodded, squeezing abby's hands. "i do."

"and do you, abigail anderson, take this woman to be your wedded wife?" she wiped her tears and nodded, "i do."

"i love you so much. i swear, i love you and our daughter more than anything. i've loved you for so long, i don't know what i'd do without you. you've been here for me during good and hard times, always trying to help. you've been my anchor all these years. i love you." she looked at you, sniffling. you were also crying, squeezing her hands. she caressed the back of them with her thumbs. "i love you", you whispered back.

abby got the ring out of her pocket, the one she had gotten you on valentine's day a few months back. she held your left hand up and slid the ring on your finger. she kissed each one of your fingers. "i love you." she cried as you caressed her cheek.

"you may now kiss", the judge spoke. you wrapped your arms around her neck and kissed her, passionately. she wrapped her strong arms around you. "i love you so much", she whispered into the kiss.

all you've ever needed was here. your wife, your daughter. you felt like the luckiest woman in the world, and so did abby. she was so grateful to have you in her life, grateful that you'd chosen her as your wife and mother of your child. "mama!" your daughter said right before the photographer clicked a photo.

taglist: @abbysprettygiiirl @bambishaven @bunniehrtz @cowboylikeabi @dykeanderson

@lesbian-useless

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #tlou fic #abby the last of us

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flwrstqr · 1 day

Text

FALLING IN LOVE ACCIDENTALLY (OR NOT) (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: babysitting wasn't your dream job that you always wanted. as you start babysitting a new girl, lee jihyeon, you meet her older brother, lee heeseung. You end up getting closer and closer to heeseung and ultimately fall in love amidst the chaos.

pairing: bad boy!heeseung x babysitter!reader

genre: s2l, babysitter au, romance, fluff, angst, medium fic

warning(s): parties, cursing, fighting, mentions death, small grammar errors, crying, some angst scenes, kissing, reader and heeseung has a year age gap

word count: 5k+

AN: guys im back with a medium fic!! lowkey this wasn't really the it vibe as the end i feel like was kind of rushed. so if i made any grammar errors im sorry TT, i finished this writing in like 2-3 days so it was kind of hard so. but liz + hye for helping me think of a climax. i kind of got this idea for a POV on tiktok so help

AGE 21, THE SUPPOSED GOLDEN YEARS OF LIFE, or so they say. But for you, it's far from golden. Being a babysitter at this age isn't exactly glamorous; it's probably one of the last jobs you'd expect to have.

"Yunah, I'm heading out to my new client's place, okay?" you call out before leaving the door.

"Okay, just be safe!" Yunah shouts back from her room down the hallway. You close the door behind you and hurry out as usual, pulling out your notepad to review your schedule for the day:

8:00 am: Wake up 8:30 am: Go grocery shopping with Moka for breakfast 9:30 am: Have breakfast 9:45 am: Prepare for the new kid 10:30 am: Leave the house 10:45 am: Arrive at the client's house 1:00 pm: Leave the client's house

You quietly close your notepad and mentally rehearse what to say as you settle onto the bus. Upon reaching your stop, you make your way to the house.

The house is painted in soft beige and cream, with a porch ceiling resembling a clear blue sky on a sunny day. A wind chime gently sways, welcoming visitors with its melodic tinkling. You ring the doorbell and wait.

A boy around your age answers, with dark red hair and deer-like features. His ear piercings catch your attention as he regards you with an intense stare.

"Hi, I'm here for Jihyeon. Lee Jihyeon," you say, your words stumbling slightly under his gaze. "I'm her babysitter. YN LN."

"Oh, Jihyeon's upstairs," he replies with a shrug, ushering you inside.

Inside, the entrance feels airy and bright, with a faint scent of coffee lingering in the kitchen. Making your way upstairs, you come to a door adorned with pink letters and heart and flower stickers, reading "LEE JIHYEON." You knock, and a small girl, around six years old, opens the door.

"Hi," she says, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. "Are you a princess here to take me to princess school?"

You chuckle softly. "You can think that if you want. I'm YN. Your new friend," you introduce yourself, crouching down to her eye level.

"Are you here to babysit me?" Jihyeon asks as she lets you enter her room.

"More than babysitting, I'll be your new friend," you reassure her with a smile.

"Really?" Jihyeon's eyes light up. "I've wanted a friend for a while, but I don't have any at school." She quickly covers her mouth, realizing what she's said, and closes the door abruptly.

"Jihyeon?" you raise an eyebrow at her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry, my brother doesn't know. If he found out, he might cause trouble at my school," Jihyeon explains, pouting as she joins you.

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, Heeseung," Jihyeon beams, kicking her legs as she sits. "I love him a lot."

You smile at her innocence. "How old is your brother?"

"22!" Jihyeon exclaims. "He's like 16 years older than me, but he's a great brother."

"I see. How about we start playing now?" you suggest, earning an enthusiastic nod from Jihyeon as she jumps up to grab her toys.

"YN, COME ON! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE TO YEJI’S PARTY!" Minju exclaims as she peeks into your room. Her mouth slightly drops as she sees your outfit. "Trying on the new dress you got?"

You nodded, turning to her. "Does it look okay? Not too over-the-top?"

Twirling to inspect yourself in the mirror, the knee-length black velvet dress hugged your figure, adorned with delicate black lace and a soft touch.

"You look stunning," Minju beamed, adding the final touch by placing a diamond necklace around your neck.

"Thanks, Minju," you said, pulling her into a hug.

"Anything for you, YN. Now come on, let's go to the party. Yunah is complaining about how long we're taking," Minju laughs, quickly letting go of the embrace before taking your hand and dragging you to the car.

As you get into the car, the six of you start driving to the party, blasting music and enjoying your life. When you arrive, the club is crazy loud. The noise from the DJ speakers vibrates throughout the room, friend groups dancing in circles, and couples making out in the back. Your shoulders tense as you scan the room. You walk over to the bar to get a quick drink before joining the party.

Feeling awkward and out of place, you shuffle around while holding your drink. You glance around and make eye contact with Moka, who is sitting with a group of people. She signals for you to join them, but you shake your head no and excuse yourself to the bathroom. As you wash your hands and return to the party, you come face to face with the one girl you wished you never saw again: Yoonhee, the girl who bullied you in high school for being "poor."

"Oh look, it's YN LN!" she gives a small fake smile. "Didn't expect to see you at Yeji's party tonight."

"What do you want, Yoonhee," you glare.

"Nothing, I'm just giving you a pleasant greeting. Nothing more," she laughs, triggering flashbacks from when you were 17.

"Then get out of my way, Yoonhee," you spat.

"Woah, no need to get so aggressive," she gives a proud smile. "I heard you were babysitting. How's it like to be poor?"

That was your last straw. You grab the nearest drink and throw it at Yoonhee's white dress. Her eyes widen as she sees the purple punch juice on her dress. Her eyes then narrow as she stares at you.

"Do you know how much this cost? This dress cost $5,270. Now you have to pay for that," she says angrily.

"Fuck off, Yoonhee. You're still the same. No wonder you have no friends," you yell before turning around and running out of the nearest exit.

You burst out into tears, knowing you were sober. You walk yourself to the nearest bus station, sobbing silently as you wipe your tears. Each step gets heavier as your heels start to burn and your bare knees and calves shiver from the cold.

“Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks. It's a voice that sounds so familiar. A voice that you swore you heard before. You look up to meet the same boy back at Jihyeon’s house. The boy with those deer-like features and dark red hair, with the same exact piercings.

"You’re the guy from Jihyeon's house," you try to piece his name together as only in your mind was the incident with Yoonhee and you.

"Heeseung, and you are?" he asks, noticing your teary eyes.

"YN," you reply, wiping your tears.

Heeseung then notices how you're shivering from the cold. He takes off his jacket and drapes his jacket over your shoulders

"Here, you can take this. Do you need a ride or anything? Do you have someone picking you up?" he asks.

"Yunah, Moka, and Minju are still there. They're my friends," you sniffle. "But I was walking myself to the bus station."

“Still there?” He raises his eyebrow.

“At the party,” you mumbled.

"If you want, I can take you home," Heeseung suggests.

"How do I know you're not a kidnapper," you tease with a pout.

Heeseung laughs softly. "Do you think I am?"

"Maybe," you reply.

"Trust me, I won't. Plus, what's the worst thing I can do?" Heeseung smiles.

"Weird stuff," you say.

"I won't. Where do you live?" he asks.

"Okay, that's a bit off," you reply teasingly.

"Hey..." Heeseung says in a half-joking, half-serious tone.

"Fine, I'll tell you the direction, you drive the car," you respond.

"Oh, who said it was a car?" Heeseung winks as he walks you over to his motorcycle.

Your eyes widen. "A motorcycle? Also, I need a helmet?"

"Wear mine," he grins, handing you his helmet before helping you hop onto the back. You hold him tightly as he starts his engine.

As you clutch onto his leather jacket, he speeds up, and you squeeze your eyes closed, afraid of falling. When you open them again, you admire the midnight sky, feeling the cold breeze hug you warmly. When you arrive back at the dorm, you wave goodnight to Heeseung before he turns around.

"Can I get your number?" he asks.

"Sure," you grin, inserting your number into Heeseung's phone. You wink and then turn around to walk back into your dorm.

THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN, and Jihyeon's sweet smile welcomes you in. She bounds up with excitement, leading you upstairs to her room.

"Where's your brother, Jihyeon?" you ask, your tone light. You steal a glance at your bag, where Heeseung's neatly folded and laundered jacket rests.

"He's out or something," Jihyeon shrugs, already eager to show off her new toy.

As time flies by, you and Jihyeon play together as usual. She cherishes your time together, and as you help prepare lunch, the two of you chat.

"Jihyeon, are your parents not home?" you inquire, placing the grilled cheese she requested onto a plate.

"They're not here," Jihyeon replies between bites of her sandwich, causing your eyes to widen slightly.

"I see," you murmur softly, tucking a strand of Jihyeon's hair behind her ear as she takes another big bite.

"That's why Heeseung is always out. He's always looking for a babysitter for me because I'm only 6. So, I want you to be my permanent babysitter!" Jihyeon beams, savoring each taste of her grilled cheese.

"I'll always be here for you, Jihyeon," you smile back, admiring her cute expression. "How about after this, we play some fun games?"

"Yes, please!" Jihyeon's face lights up with a huge smile as she takes the last bite of her grilled cheese. You then tidy up with her and quickly take her hand as you step outside to play together.

"DOES THIS LIP TINT LOOK OKAY?" you inquire of Wonhee, who was browsing through the new makeup offerings at the mall. She looks up, observing the tester product on your hand.

"Hmm, maybe a slightly lighter shade," Wonhee suggests before joining you to explore more makeup options. You pick up another lip tint, testing it out before making your purchase and leaving the store.

"YN?" a voice calls out your name. You glance up to see Heeseung waving at you.

"Oh, Heeseung," you respond with a smile. "Didn’t expect to see you here at the mall."

"My friend works at the café on the first floor, so I thought I'd pay a visit," Heeseung explains. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I'm here with—" you begin, but your voice is interrupted by Wonhee rushing over to you.

"YN! I finally decided to buy the new eyeshadow palette!" Wonhee exclaims, then she notices Heeseung. "Oh, do you know him?"

"Heeseung, Jihyeon’s older brother," you introduce, as Heeseung gives a small wave. "He's a year older than me."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Heeseung says, shaking Wonhee's hand.

"I'm Wonhee, YN's best friend or roommate, well, one of her roommates," Wonhee smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Heeseung replies, before turning back to you. "Well, gotta go so have a good time with your friend, pretty girl." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise at his affectionate nickname as he walks off to the first floor, hands in his pockets.

"God, he's definitely into you, YN!" Wonhee giggles, noting your shocked expression.

"Shut up, Wonhee!" you exclaim.

"Just saying!" Wonhee laughs.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE YOU FIRST MET HEESEUNG, but it was that one night that really caught your attention. After a long day of babysitting, you decided to take a leisurely stroll around the park before heading back to your dorm.

The night was tranquil, nearly 9 pm, and the crisp air refreshed you as you walked. As you approached your usual alleyway, the sound of punches and kicks pierced the calm. Your heart raced with nervousness as you wondered what was happening. Was it a hallucination, or...?

Turning the corner, you were shocked to see Heeseung amidst a group of boys. Quickly, you ducked behind a wall, watching in disbelief. Why was he in a fight?

Straining to hear their conversation, you caught Heeseung shouting, "You owe me $1,000. I won the bet," just before another punch landed on his face. Your heart sank at the sight of his swollen lips and bruised eye.

"Who cares about the bet? You messed with us, you’re dead," a boy sneered, delivering another blow.

"Leave him alone!" you finally mustered the courage to intervene, emerging from your hiding spot.

The boy mocked, "Oh look, is it your girlfriend, Heeseung? If you’re a stray cat trying to get your boyfriend out of trouble, you're out of luck."

In a burst of anger, you threw your purse at the boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Another boy's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the scene.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing.

As the tension escalated, you kicked the taunting boy hard in the legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Want to say that again?" you glared. "Fuck off and find something better to do with your time."

The boy slowly looking a bit scared quickly ran off through the alleyways as his friends tagged along with him.

“So…” you began tentatively, noticing Heeseung’s bleeding lip.

“Sorry for all of that,” Heeseung apologized sincerely.

“Let's talk later. For now, let's get you patched up,” you replied, swiftly leading him to the nearby convenience store to grab a first aid kit.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN END UP IN THAT FIGHT?" you inquire as the two of you settle in at the park. You pull out a tube of scar gel, uncapping it and listening intently as Heeseung explains.

"Well, I made a bet for $1,000 and won, so I got dragged into the whole brawl," Heeseung shrugs. "It's just the usual."

"Usual?" your eyebrow raises as you first cleanse the scar with an alcohol wipe.

"Ouch, that stings," Heeseung winces as you then pat it dry with a tissue. "Yeah, it's kind of normal for me... ouch."

"Then maybe you shouldn't do it; it's dangerous," you respond, leaning in closer to apply the medicine. Heeseung's heart thumps as he watches you approach. You can feel his breath against your skin, and his cheeks flush as your fingers touch his skin. Why does his stomach feel like it's doing somersaults?

You affix a small bandage as a finishing touch. "There."

"Thanks," Heeseung smiles. "So, where were you?"

"Babysitting for another kid today," you shrug, quickly disposing of the bandage wrapper and tidying up your first aid kit.

"I see," Heeseung replies, helping you clean up. "I can walk you home if you want?"

"I'll walk," you smile.

"I could walk with you part of the way," Heeseung suggests, falling into step beside you. You both gaze at the glimmering stars, admiring them from afar.

"You know," you start, "Jihyeon mentioned something about your parents."

Heeseung's gaze drops as he stares at the ground, his smile fading slightly. He looks at you. "She did?"

You nod, meeting Heeseung's eyes. "If you're comfortable sharing, what happened?"

"Well..." Heeseung pauses, contemplating for a moment before continuing. "My parents died in a car crash. They were returning from a movie, and they never really got to say goodbye to us. I guess my biggest regret was not saying goodbye before they left. I was just being stubborn and angry because they scolded me for getting a bad grade."

You listen attentively. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. It's all in the past now. It happened about five years ago, and I barely remember it," Heeseung shrugs.

"I hope things have gotten better since then," you smile.

"Thanks, YN," he gives you a grateful look.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me. Hopefully, we can talk again later," you wave goodbye before heading towards your apartment building.

"YN, COULE YOU PLEASE JOIN ME FOR A DRESS-UP TEA PARTY?" Jihyeon pleads with a cute pout, coaxing you into her playful scheme.

"Alright, fine…" you reluctantly agree, watching as Jihyeon's face lit up with a wide smile before she hurriedly led you to her room to fetch tiaras and dresses.

"This dress is from Mommy's room, so you can wear it," Jihyeon grin mischievously, confessing how she got it without her brother's knowledge. You examine the dress—a simple white garment with puffy sleeves adorned with intricate lace, reaching knee-length.

After changing in the bathroom, you admire your reflection in the mirror. Surprisingly, the dress fit perfectly, accentuating your features.

Emerging from the bathroom, you found Jihyeon holding two tiaras, dressed in her own fancy pink attire. She hands you a tiara, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she helps you place it on your head.

"Let's go! It's tea party time!" she exclaims, leading you to the dining table where she arranged fake tea cups. Pouring imaginary "tea" into your cup, you play along, enjoying the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes observed from the doorway. "A tea party without me?" a teasing voice remark, revealing Heeseung, in his usual leather jacket and jeans, his smile widening as he saw you. His gaze linger on you appreciatively, taking in the sight of the borrowed dress.

"Heeseung!" Jihyeon exclaims, rushing into his arms.

"How are you, Jihyeon?" Heeseung greets, lifting her up gently.

"Why are you home so early?" Jihyeon inquire.

"Just needed to grab something upstairs," Heeseung replies with a grin. "Could you fetch my phone and wallet, Jihyeon? I need to chat with YN."

"Sure!" Jihyeon agreeing, scampering off to fulfill his request.

"YN…" Heeseung's gaze softened as he admires your appearance in the dress. "You look beautiful."

"I hope it's not inappropriate or disrespectful cause Jihyeon let me borrow it…" you began, but Heeseung quickly reassuring you.

"No, it's fine. You should keep it. It suits you really well," he insisted

"Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Absolutely," Heeseung affirm, his smile unwavering. "By the way, are you free next Friday evening? Jihyeon will be with her aunt, and I thought maybe we could grab dinner together."

"Ah, is someone asking me out?" you tease, accepting his invitation with a smile.

Heeseung chuckles. "Guilty as charged. See you next Friday then. Feel free to continue your tea party," he added with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes. Jihyeon returned with Heeseung's belongings, bidding him farewell as he left the house once more.

"WHY AM I SO NERVOUS…" you whisper to yourself in the bathroom before a ding dong at the door interrupts your thoughts. "I'LL GET IT!" you shout, hastily opening the door to find Heeseung standing there, clad in a white blouse with the first two buttons undone and black pants.

"I hope I’m not too early?" Heeseung grins.

"Perfect timing," you reply with a small smile. "I'LL BE BACK SOON!" you call out to your friends before exiting the house.

Outside, Heeseung's motorcycle awaits, and you sit on it, securing your helmet as he starts the engine. Arriving at the restaurant, he assists you off the bike, taking your hand and leading you inside. As you settle at a table, you quickly peruse the menu and place your order, leaving time for conversation.

"I noticed something unique about Jihyeon," you begin. "Unlike most kids who prioritize toys, she seems more…mature, especially in her care for you."

"Hm?" Heeseung looks intrigued.

"She's genuinely thoughtful and responsible, almost like she was raised exceptionally well," you add, earning a nod from Heeseung.

"You also strike me as a great brother," you compliment, noticing a faint blush on Heeseung's cheeks as he looks away, taking a sip of water to compose himself.

"Thanks," he responds, attempting to maintain his composure.

As the conversation flows, your food arrives, and after enjoying the meal, you take a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way.

"Yunah is more of a 'clumsy older sister' than an organized one," you remark.

"I could gather that from your stories," Heeseung chuckles, then pauses, "Your shoes... they're untied." He bends down to quickly tie your shoelaces, and inexplicably, your heart begins to race. Why the sudden flutter in your stomach?

"T-thanks," you stutter, "H-how about we head back home now? It's getting late, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," Heeseung nods, masking how he was blushing too.

YOU LIE IN YOUR BED, STARING AT THE CEILING, thinking of all the times you've spent with Heeseung. All the times you babysat Jihyeon and he would always stop by and wave at you. All the time he would do small things to make your heart thump loudly. All the rides you took on his motorcycle. The scent of his leather jacket when you first met him after the party. All of that was nearly 4-5 months ago. Now here you are, lying down and thinking about Heeseung all night, memories keeping you up until 4 am.

“Do you think I’m in love?” you ask Iroha.

“I think you are,” Iroha responds with a smile. “You always talk about Heeseung, and he treats you really well.”

You pause and ponder Iroha’s words, contemplating what it truly means to you. Were all those butterflies in your stomach a sign of love? What even is love?You gaze out the window, reflecting for the last time. Now you realize it, Iroha was right. You are truly deeply in love with the one and only Lee Heeseung

“YN, YOU’RE ZONING OUT AGAIN.” Jihyeon pouts as you gaze out the window for the fourth time.

“Sorry, Jihyeon. Where were we in the play?” you try to give a small smile that hopefully Jihyeon would forgive.

“We were where the prince confessed to the princess!” Jihyeon exclaims.

Confess. The word pops up in the brain as you try to gain your focus back, “Right.” You whisper before then zoning out again. God, why was Heeseung taking your whole mind?

You quickly snap back to reality, “Sorry—so basically the princess confesses to the prince of how much she loves him. How much she makes her get butterflies in her stomach. The way he gives her jacket and talks to her all the time..” You continue on as your mind is only about Heeseung. All the stuff you were saying perfectly described him.

“You know this kind of sounds like my brother,” Jihyeon says, as she plays with her dolls.

“Huh?” you look up from talking.

“Is it?” Jihyeon asks.

“Uhm..” you hesitate.

“It is.” Jihyeon replies, reading your expression, “it’s okay cause I have my mouth shut.” She grabs her fingers and pretends to zip her mouth close as you laugh at her cuteness. But she wasn’t wrong, everything you said was about Heeseung. Everything in your mind right now was Heeseung.

YOU AND YUNAH SETTLE INTO A cozy corner at the bustling café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling in the air. Thoughts of Heeseung, the boy who occupies far too much space in your mind, tug at your attention.

"I’m going to the bathroom," you say, forcing a smile as you make your way to the bathroom. Inside the dimly lit space, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your thoughts.

But as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you can't help but overhear a conversation from the other side of the bathroom.

"Heeseung definitely likes me. Like in Lee Heeseung," a voice boasts confidently. "Remember that one day he kissed me once. He's my type too."

Your heart skips a beat as the words sink in, a wave of shock and betrayal washing over you. Why did you think he likes you? Why did you like him?

You press a hand to your mouth, trying to stop the sobs that threaten to escape. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to make sense of heartbreak.

With trembling hands, you splash cold water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Yunah again. You can't let her see you like this, can't bear to let her witness the shattered remnants of your heart.

Summoning every ounce of strength you have left, you force yourself to leave the bathroom. Yunah's concerned gaze meets yours, and you offer her a weak smile.

"I'm not feeling well," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I should go home."

Yunah's brow furrows with worry, and she reaches out to touch your arm. But you pull away gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be okay," you lie, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I just need some rest."

With a heavy heart, you bid farewell to Yunah and make your escape from the café. Once outside, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sobbing your eyes, you make your way back home with a broken heart.

"YN, COME ON. HE’S SUCH A JERK" Wonhee consoles you as she wipes away your tears for what feels like the fifth time this week.

"He completely played me," you sob, feeling the weight of betrayal. "I thought there was something between us, but turns out he's just the brother of a kid I babysit. Why did I even like him?"

"YN…" Moka's voice is gentle as she squeezes your hand, "Please don't talk like that. What if there's a misunderstanding?"

"They mentioned 'Lee Heeseung,' it's obviously him," you sniffle, trying to compose yourself.

"Well, why waste your time on someone who doesn't deserve it?" Minju interjects.

"Minju's got a point," Wonhee agrees, "He's not worth your tears. He's just a player."

"But I can't help it, I think I love him," you admit, feeling torn.

"But Heeseung doesn't strike me as the type to play with someone's feelings like that. He's a good guy," Yunah suggests optimistically. "Maybe there's more to the story that you don't know."

"I don't even know anymore," you murmur, wiping your eyes. "All I know is I can't face anyone for the next week. I might even cancel all my plans. I just can't bear to see him right now."

HEESEUNG SAT AT HIS DESK, his mind consumed with worry. It had been a week since you abruptly canceled all your plans, and he hadn't heard from you since. His messages were delivered for nearly a week and according to Iroha, you hadn't left your house in days.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. Jihyeon stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes filled with concern.

"Heeseung, are you okay?" she asked softly, her small voice breaking through his anxious mind.

Heeseung forced a smile, trying to hide his emotion, "I'm fine, Jihyeon. Just a little tired."

Jihyeon frowned, unconvinced by his reassurance. "But you've been pacing around your room all day, and you haven't touched your food," she pointed out, her brow furrowing with worry.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn't hide anything from Jihyeon; she always saw right through him.

"I'm just worried about someone," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jihyeon's eyes widened with curiosity. "Is it YN?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the mention of your name, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, it's YN. I haven't heard from her in days, and I'm starting to get really worried."

Jihyeon's expression softened, and she took a tentative step forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Heeseung. I'm sure she's okay. Maybe she just needs some time alone."

Heeseung wanted to believe her, but the nagging worry in the back of his mind refused to go away. "Hopefully."

Suddenly, Jihyeon's eyes lit up with excitement, as if she had just remembered something important. "Hey, Heeseung, do you like YN?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Heeseung's heart skipped a beat at the question, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…uh…what makes you ask that?"

Jihyeon shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "YN may have told me that you give her butterflies and so many other things"

Heeseung's breath caught in his throat at the revelation, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. You liked him? The realization filled him with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in days.

"I need to go find YN."he said, his voice choking with emotion.

THE NIGHT HUNG HEAVY WITH SILENCE. Tears streamed down your cheeks; the clock ticked, marking the passing of time as you sat alone in your room.

The sudden creak of the window startled you, and you turned to see Heeseung framed against the moonlit sky. His presence sent a jolt of surprise through you.

"Heeseung?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words to say. "YN, I…," he started, but his voice faltered as he struggled to find the courage to speak.

"What are you doing here, Heeseung?" you asked, your voice betraying the hurt and confusion.

Heeseung took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tears staining your cheeks. "YN, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice with genuine worry.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his question,"Why do you care, Heeseung?" you snapped, your voice sharp"After everything that's happened, why do you even bother?"

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What do you mean, YN? What happened?" he asked.

The anger inside you boiled over, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. "You like another girl," you said, your voice trembling with hurt and anger. "You kissed her,"

Heeseung's face looked puzzled, his eyes with confusion"YN, it's not what you think," he started, but you cut him off.

"Don't even bother, Heeseung," you said, your voice filled with resignation. "I know the truth now. I know that everything you did to me was just to play."

Heeseung's heart shattered at your words, "YN, please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice desperate. You shake your head no.

"YN, listen to me," he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of your quiet sobs. "Those are all false. I never kissed anyone. I don’t like anyone but…"

You turned to face him, the tears still streaming down your cheeks as you searched his eyes.

“But you. I like you, YN," Heeseung confessed, "More than I've ever liked anyone before."

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“I like you YN.” Heeseung confessed, before you could process anything

For a moment, the world fell away around you as he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Lips in sync, his hands snaking around your waist.

But all too soon, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside your room, and Heeseung pulled away, his eyes wide with panic. "YN, open the door, I brought tea," Yunah's voice called out. He realized that he was about to be caught, and he turned to you. Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours one last time.

As you stood there, the echo of his words ringing in your ears. He liked you. Heeseung Lee liked you back.

THE WARM GLOW OF THE AFTERNOON SUN FILTERED through the curtains, casting a soft light over the cozy living room. You sat beside him on the comfortable couch, next to Heeseung’s side as you watched a movie together.

Jihyeon sat on the floor in front of the TV, completely engrossed in the movie. Every so often, she would glance back at the two of you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she plotted her next adventure.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Is the movie good, angel?" he murmured, his voice soft with affection.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace with a contented sigh. "Mhmm, perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the movie played on, you found yourself drifting off, the gentle rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat and the noise of Jihyeon’s laughter.

When the movie finally came to an end, Jihyeon jumped up from her spot on the floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can we play a game now?" she asked, bouncing up and down.

Heeseung chuckled at her enthusiasm, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Of course, Jihyeon," he said, shooting you a playful grin. "What do you want to play?"

Jihyeon's face lit up with delight as she rattled off a list of her favorite games, her energy infectious as she dragged the two of you into her world of make-believe. You and Heeseung played along with her antics, laughing and joking as you chased each other around the room, completely lost in the moment.

And as you watched Heeseung and Jihyeon, their laughter filling the air with joy, you knew that you would do anything to protect this precious moment, to hold onto it for as long as you possibly could.

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danveration · 17 hours

Text

Parings: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x reader

Summary: You fall asleep on the ghoul’s shoulder.

A/N: VERY SHORT!! theres not much plot haha. i just had this cute idea so why not write it out. i honestly feel like i’ve made a “fall asleep next to the character” fic to every character i wrote so far😭

“Darlin’, I sure as hell ain’t gonna sit around here all day just cause you didn’t get enough sleep last night. Nobody gets good sleep up here. It’s-“

He stops mid sentence when he feels the weight of your head drop on his shoulder.

You and him had a confusing relationship dynamic. You ran into each other looking for something similar. A bounty. After a bit of talking, you asked if you could tag along with him. He made it clear that he doesn’t do “duos” or anything of the sort. But if you found something along the way, he thought it would be better if you shared it with him other than not. You looked young. Young people tend to have more of an eye for things, he thought. Even though he was sure he’d find the bounty no problem, why not enjoy a bit of company? He ended up agreeing.

You two have stopped for a minute because you complained that you were getting tired. You haven’t slept in a while, due to being a bit paranoid about all the creatures that could sneak up and kill you. Plus you were alone. Being alone out here and having your guard down was most likely to get you killed.

Having someone with you, especially him, made the tension ease off you a bit, and you could feel the tiredness effect you more.

You sat down, you back laying against a wall. He sighed and reluctantly sat down next to you.

“Darlin’, I sure as hell ain’t gonna sit around here all day just cause you didn’t get enough sleep last night. Nobody gets good sleep up here. It’s-“

He stops mid sentence when he feels the weight of your head drop on his shoulder.

He looks over and down at you in disbelief. Did you really just.. fall asleep on his shoulder? Do you know who he is? He’s feared by mostly everyone on the surface.

He realizes that this means he’ll be taking a longer break than he wanted. If he moved, you might wake up. And he thinks that it’s better to have a fully rested person travelling with him than a sleep deprived one.

He sighs and leans back.

“Better get some rest too, then.” He mumbles as he shifts his hat so it’s now over his eyes.

He feels you adjusting slightly, face pressed in his jacket.

He must admit, it’s nice to feel this sort of touch after 200 years of nothing but violence and death.

#my works #:ghoul #fallout #fallout x reader #ghoul #ghoul fallout #ghoul x reader #ghoul fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #ghoul/cooper x reader #fallout ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #fallout fic #also why does he look so pookie in this gif omg

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withleeknow · 17 hours

Note

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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pinkyqil · 3 days

Note

Would you ever write for Irene Paredes? I feel like a fluffy mom fix with her would be so cute.

Butterfly // Irene paredes kid fic

Summary: Irene and her kid spend the day at barca training grounds and she's just wilding

A/n: I honestly enjoyed writing this send in some Ileana request, might be one of my favorite kid fic that I wrote so send in more requests you want of her and Irene, too the anon who sent this request I hope i got it right cause it was between Irene x r with a child or Irene + child, and I went with Irene + child r if this isn't what you wanted you can always send it in again and I'll do it properly hope y'all are enjoying my writing we'll be ignoring any mistakes has there yet to be finally edited.

You've been good all day for mami meaning you get to go too tomorrow's partice getting to see your favorites people's and run around a ball the whole day long.

Mami had promised to take you with her if you showed that you could be on your best behavior which you did and tomorrow you get the vist the barça girles.

You we're so excited that you went to bed early praying that tomorrow would come really quick.

Mami had gotten you this all black training kit that was just for you which the girls fanned over cause of how adorable they found you in it.

Irene woke you up a little earlier than the usual time she gets you up. after getting you and her dressed it was time for breakfast she gave you some waffles and sausage and grape juice one of your favorites.

You thought to yourself that today must be really special since mami gave you a special breakfast something different from what you usually have.

"Mami up up car now finish eating can we go to prawctice now". You asked basically rushing her, for a soon to be five fingers old you speak very well.

"un momento baby let mami finish cleaning up before we go okay why don't you go make sure we got everything packed in your training bag okay".she told

"Okay". you told her before running of to make sure you had everything.

"Aye cariño, no corras". she told you

"Si mami". You replied but this walking a little faster instead of running.

Finally arriving at practice with what felt like eternity you had gotten excited the moment mamì pulled up at the parking lot. With that you'd Immediately taken off your sit belt from your big girl car sit and opening the car door to run off.

Irene who quickly parked properly before scolding you to make sure no one got hurt along with you.

"Oh dios mio Ileana we don't do that". she told you with the scary voice.

"lo siento mami". you told her before taking her hand after worrying her with the stunt you pulled just now.

"Ai Irene don't be harsh on the little one she's just having a little fun". mapi came into the conversation after spotting you both getting out and your crazy little stunt.

"Maria your child might be allowed to do crazy stuff but that doesn't mean my should". Irene told her injured teammate.

Before both the adults could say any more you had spotted Caro and Marta coming out of their car which you sprinted your little legs over to them.

"Ro Ro Ta Ta". You said greeting the couple as they picked you up.

"nena how are you".Marta said while holding your hands so you wouldn't run away from irene again.

"Good me go training today".you told her

" We can see darling how about we walk in together while your mama gets your stuff". she said

"Irene wil take her inside with us". caro told her.

"Thank you guys don't run around while I'm not there Peque stay with you aunties and wait for me bébé. She told you guys.

The whole day training was fun you got to spend the whole day with your favorite aunties and wacht the youngsters pull one of the funniest pranks on the older girls you'd laugh even though mamí told you not too.

You'd got passed around training to see what different excerise the girls were doing. You had play time with vicky esme and jana who had fun playing dolly with you.

After a while Irene finally let you go more further into the pitch with your ball but you had to stay closer.

You tried getting way more distant than you should cause you saw a group of butterfly and seek them out.

Until you got pulled back by lucy who saw you trying to escape your original spot.

"Where are going Peque". She questioned you

"Butterfly". you pointed for her to see before running around trying to catch them.

"Ileana what did we say about running around like this in practice". Mami scolded you

"Irene let her have a little fun she's been very good the whole day let her chase". Alexia butted in especially after seeing how happy you look.

"Fine don't run that much bèbè". she yelled so you could hear.

"gracias mami". You told her before chasing after the butterfly with mapi who honestly couldn't keep up with a four year old

"Ai marià you can't keep up with four year old or what".alexia told her with a teasing tone making the whole group laugh.

"She's very fast even you yourself wouldn't be able to keep up". mapi said trying to catch her breath she was definitely done chasing a four year old and butterflies.

Irene came swooping you up and carrying you so you could get a better view of the lovely butterfly and how pretty they're. you tried catching them now that you were closer but

"No we don't hurt them". Mami told you with her stern voice.

"but I want. You tried telling her

"No Peque you can't have them okay".

"Fine". you said grumpy but to tired too do anything.

The ended with you falling asleep on the drive back home mama had gotten you a new toy butterfly. and made you your special spaghetti that you got all over yourself thinking you could feed yourself.

You went to bed early so you could grown bed and strong like your mama to play football like her one day.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 23 hours

Text

the girl next door 16

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You sit in another hard plastic chair, this time in an office. You can still hear the chaos of the hospital wing out the walls, a constant reminder of why you’re there. You sit with your elbow on the armrest, your chin in your hand as you bite your fingertips.

The nurse, or nurse practitioner, you don’t know the difference, sits across from you, making notes about your last response. Her questions are pointless. She’s asking about your day, well, it’s obvious that’s not going well. And your hobbies. What do those matter? You don’t do anything so you don’t have an answer for that.

She smiles across at you as she clears her throat. The sort of smile dripping in pity. You get it a lot from the old ladies at the grocery store when they see you helping your mother.

“Have you ever had a period where you felt down? Not just for a week or two but, in fact, for many weeks and, perhaps, months?” She asks.

You don’t answer right away. You push your shoulder up and sit back, dropping your hand to your lap. You frown and look at the ceiling.

“Hm, I guess. Sometimes... yeah.”

All the time.

“Along with that, did you find you had no energy, had no interest in things, and overall had great difficulty functioning?”

Functioning? In what way? Going outside? Smiling? Feeling anything but heavy dread? Not crying until your eyes are raw? Having friends?

“Sure, but uh, I take care of my mom. I don’t have time... sometimes...I get tired.”

"Right,” she scribbles noisily with her pen, “Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Has what happened?” You make yourself look at her.

“These bouts of sadness?”

“My mom is sick. It makes me sad.”

“What about today? You said that you... lost track of time.”

“I’m... my mom... I didn’t sleep well... I don’t know.”

She hums and nods. She pauses as she reads over her folder and puts the pen down. She crosses her arms over the desk.

“It’s normal for caretakers to suffer from depression. You’re taking on a lot so there’s no need to be ashamed. You did so well being so honest today. Really. It makes it easier for us to help you,” she smiles again. What about any of this is happy? “I’m going to write you a prescription. Just a few doses for now, okay? To help you through. And we’ll schedule a follow-up with a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist?” You utter, your eyes hot with tear. “I’m not crazy.”

“That’s not... crazy, we don’t speak like that. And you’re not. You’re hurting and you need relief. That’s all,” she explains, “so, the pills I’m going to send you off with. I want you to be very careful, okay? No alcohol. They’re going to make you drowsy so no driving either.”

“But... my mom doesn’t drive. She can’t.”

“It’s just for a few days. You might want to consider looking into some of the local services. You can find a home nurse to come help out if you qualify,” she gets up and goes to a cabinet against the wall, “I have some pamphlets. You can take them with you and I’ll have someone find you with some samples of the pills. That way, you don’t need to pay, alright?”

Your lips trembles and you bite it to keep it still. You nod and stand as you flick the wetness from your eyes, “can I go?”

“Sure, I’m sure your mom will be ready to see you soon,” she approaches you with a handful of glossy leaflets. “I’ll walk you out.”

You take the pamphlets and she follows you to the door. You step into the hall as she stays close, “Mr. Rogers,” she calls over your shoulder as Steve sits in the hall waiting, “she’s all good. Got her sorted.”

“Great, uh, well, good news,” he stands, rubbing his lowers back, “your mom’s awake.” He announces, “can finally get off this stiff chair.”

“See, that’s wonderful,” the nurse nudges your arm, “I’ll have the medications brought to her room. Have a good day, hon.”

You clutch the pamphlets and stare at Steve’s chest. He points you down the hall and walks beside you.

“Everything go okay? What was that she said about medication?”

“Pills.”

“Pills? For what?” He prompts as he leads you along the hallway.

“Depression.”

“Oh.”

You look down, “guess I might be. I don’t know.”

“You work really hard, sweetie. You’re not invincible,” he comforts and rubs your back. You wince at his unexpected touch, “all this stress...” he trails off and reaches for the pamphlets in your hands. You let him take one, “what’s this?”

He reads as he walks, unbothered by the nurses rushing by and the cleaners in their grey scrubs.

“Home nurse? Hm, that might be a good option,” he clucks, “or maybe... I wouldn’t mind helping out, you know? I know it’s early days but I think we’ve gotten really close.” He folds up the paper and hands it back, “me and your mom... us too, I think.”

You shrug and drag your soles on the floor. He reads the door number as you reach your mom’s room and he waves you in ahead of him. You keep your head down as you go past the curtain as he directs you from behind. You stand at the foot of the bed, too afraid to look up.

“I’m starving,” your mother snarls. She sounds like herself, just tired.

You peek up and your eyes round. She scowls at you as she lays tangled in tubes. You quiver in relief. She’s alive and she seems mostly okay.

“What’re you staring at?” She sneers, “I know I look like death. I feel like it too.”

“Holly,” Steve steps forward, “thank god.” He comes to her side, “we were so worried.”

“Heh,” she snorts.

“Really, when I found you...” he tries to block you out as he lowers his voice, “you never told me you weren’t supposed to drink.”

“Never bothered me much before,” she dismisses, “figured it was just a precaution.”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from the doorway and you look over at a young man in blue scrubs. He says your name, “I have some samples for you.”

You turn and wave meekly, confirming your identity. He enters and hands you several boxes secured together with a thick elastic.

“Directives on the side,” he points to the folded paper also looped under the rubber band.

“Thanks,” you say and he leaves you just as quickly.

Your turn back to your mom as her eyes center on you. She looks horrible. Sickly. Worse than you’ve ever seen her.

“What’s all that then?” She scoffs.

You try to hide the boxes under your arm and shake your head.

“Typical. She’s gotta get her share of attention.”

“Holly,” Steve girds, disappointment harshening his tone, “she was sick with worry over you. The nurse gave her those to calm down.” He grips the bedrail until his knuckles pale, “she has depression, you know? All the stress--”

“Stress?” Your mom rolls her eyes, “I didn’t realise she was the sick one. She’s not depressed, she’s lazy.”

Silence. Stifling, suffocating silence. You lower your chin, “it’s... I probably won’t take any of it. I was just... in shock. I’m sure I’m fine.”

“But the nurse said--” Steve begins, “you’re going to at least try it. You never know, it could help. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

“Oh, don’t baby her. She’s grown,” your mom’s too out of it to filter her spite. You see the disgust in Steve’s expression as he looks at her.

“Holly, please, she’s your daughter.”

“I know who she is,” she snarls, “why are you taking her side anyway? She doesn’t need pills. It’s just another excuse.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “I’m gonna chalk this up to whatever they’re pumping you full of. Holly, you’re not thinking straight. I know you would say all that to her.”

“Stop defending her. She’s not as innocent as she pretends.”

He shakes his head and glances over at you, “look, you just woke up, you’re out of it. I get it. Let’s just all calm down.”

“She’s a sniveling little brat,” she barks as she leans back. “This is all her fault. She knew I wasn’t supposed to drink. She didn’t stop me.”

Steve blanches and his eyes cling to you. You see the chagrin lined in his forehead. You look away in shame. You never wanted a witness to your mother’s wrath. That’s worse than facing her alone. It’s humiliating.

#series #au #marvel #mcu #drabble #captain america #the girl next door #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader

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dfortrafalgar · 14 hours

Note

Hi, saw that your request were open so I was thinking on asking you for Law X fem reader where law has a crush on reader and starts hanging out and sees that one of reader’s guy friends is being way too touchy and starts touching her butt, he is also being mean to her and at one point even hits her in the head.

How would he react, I was thinking of a fluff ending.

thank you so much for your request anon!!! i really loved this one, it was super fun to write! it was definitely a bit of a struggle though, as much as i enjoy writing heavier topics, physical abuse is tricky for me to deal with, but i hope the fluff at the end delivered some resolutions <3

also, i actually really really like Bellamy as a character. i think he's super cool, but i couldnt think of anyone else who could really fit in the role he's playing in this fic LOL

Rectify

Law x Fem Reader

Law’s feelings for you are forced to clash with a loathsome person in your life.

Warnings: descriptions of brief physical abuse, implications of past abuse, very mild suggestive language, modern setting, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

By the time Law realized his crush on you had surpassed its normal, healthy limit, it was far too late for him. It certainly didn’t help to see you sitting next to Bellamy, tossing joking remarks back and forth. All of you were in the same friend group, so it was truly impossible to avoid your interactions with the much larger, stronger, arguably more handsome man. And the thought began to make Law’s blood boil.

Because Bellamy was everything Law wasn’t.

You and Law had been friends since childhood, growing up in the same neighborhood and running with the same crowd. You were familiar with his best friends and his dad, just as Law was familiar with your closest peers. Law liked to think that, as the years went on, the two of you grew closer and closer. You were always far nicer to Law during his awkward teenage years, and there were a few times where the raven-haired boy grew hopeful that you might one day return his budding feelings for you, but that day never came. And then you started college… and then you met Bellamy.

On the contrary to the black-haired medical student, the blonde was known around the entire campus as ‘The Hyena,’ and for good reason. He was ruthless in every sport he played, a malicious, sadistic grin constantly pulling at his thin lips striking fear into the hearts of his opponents. He was strong, freakishly so, with muscles that could rival that of an Olympic weightlifter. His blonde hair was a hit with the ladies, and partnered with his darker skin tone and his assortment of badass tattoos, it seemed like a no brainer that women would be falling all over him.

Law just internally hated that one of those women seemed to be you.

Despite you having confirmed on multiple occasions that you and Bellamy were simply friends that you met in one of your classes, and that you truly had no interest in men like him, Law couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest.

Bellamy certainly seemed to like you. A lot.

Law watched from across the room, a plastic cup still completely full of an unidentified cocktail in his tattooed hand and the large group of friends you shared laughing and chattering around you in the living room of the house party, as one of Bellamy’s large, strong hands began to circle around your waist, gripping the soft flesh of your ass through your pants. The sensation made you jump, trying to scurry away from him with a nervous smile on your soft lips as you awkwardly laughed at the feeling, but Bellamy tried to pull you in closer. The couch cushions sunk under his weight, creating a deep divot that made it hard to stand up.

You lightly shoved Bellamy’s chest, mumbling something about standing to get another drink, before you were finally able to haul yourself up from the warm sofa and make your way toward the kitchen in the back of the house. Law stood from his metal folding chair, abandoning his cup on a random end table. He followed you diligently into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he muttered.

“Oh, hey, Law!” you returned his greeting, mild surprise filling your eyes. “I didn’t hear you behind me!”

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter. You awkwardly fiddled with a glass bottle of beer, using the edge of the counter to pop open the metal cap. Law eyed you suspiciously.

“You don’t drink beer,” he stated, watching as you simply held the chilled bottle in your hands without making a move to drink it.

You smiled in response, but the gesture didn’t reach your eyes like it normally did. “I know… I just needed to get some air away from the living room for a little bit.”

Law couldn’t hold back the question fighting on his tongue. “Is Bellamy bothering you?”

Pointed stares were shared between the two of you before you finally, lightly, shook your head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Something told him you were lying to his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you groaned. “Law… I know you don’t like him… but he’s really not that bad.”

“You didn’t seem to like it when he touched your ass,” the med student grumbled.

“Law, I don’t want to fight,” you retorted, firmly. “I don’t like it when Bellamy touches me, anywhere. I know he’s into me but I’m not into him, but I don’t want to cause a scene at a party I was graciously invited to.”

You had a point. Liquor was running as free as tap water within the stale, stuffy walls of the house, and saying or doing something that could potentially cause a fight wouldn’t be ideal. Especially since the police had already been called multiple times to a house just a few steps down the sidewalk from this one.

Law wished he could open his mouth and just tell you, tell you everything that had been on his mind, how he realized just recently (and yet somehow far too late for his liking) that he’s madly in love with you, how he doesn’t want to see you be treated poorly by someone who you call a friend, how he wished so desperately that you would see him in the same way, how he longed for your touch. But instead, he stayed silent, watching as you anxiously eyed the brown glass of the untouched beer bottle you still gripped in your hand, as if the bottle was the only thing keeping you glued to reality.

“I’m fine, Law,” you blurted. He hadn’t said anything more. With your eyes cast down to the floor, you left your beer bottle sitting open on the countertop before retreating back into the thick of the party.

The raven-haired student waited a few moments before returning as well, his metal folding chair unfortunately having been taken by two sweaty economics students locked in a very passionate, very inappropriate, makeout session. He pushed his way through the mingling crowd back toward the couch where he spotted you perched on the arm of the sofa this time, Bellamy practically flush against your body on the end cushion, his palm on your ass, fingers squeezing intermittently. The blonde was locked in an intense conversation with the man in front of him, and the look on your face screamed uncomfortable. Law felt his stomach flip over. Your eyes caught him again, and you frowned. A frown so deep that it left shadows under the creases of your lips. You looked… aged. Stressed. Afraid.

But Law kept his distance.

You didn’t want a scene to break out. You could handle yourself on your own.

Bellamy’s hand trailed from your ass down your thigh, your skin still protected by the rough denim of your jeans, but that didn’t stop his fingers from crawling around the front of your body and dipping between your thighs. The feeling of his intense hand trying to pull you apart in front of another man, without your consent, made you visibly tense up and pull away from him. Your motions finally made the blonde’s attention snap to you, his dark eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more villainous.

“Don’t run off,” he snapped. “You’re sitting right here with me, all pretty like that.”

You steeled yourself. “Then I don’t want you touching me like that. We’re not an item, Bellamy.”

“I don’t care,” he huffed back. “I’ll touch you however I want.”

The music of the party, the chattering voices slurred with alcohol, faded completely around Law as he watched the argument unfold before his eyes. The only sounds entering his ear drums were the disgusting words leaving Bellamy’s mouth, the demands, the insults. The dim lights of the living room did very little to hide the way your face contorted in discomfort, trying to pull away from the blonde athlete even more.

“Bellamy, I said no,” you snapped.

No one seemed to be paying any attention to what was happening, all eyes everywhere but where they should have been. When you were being closed in on by a man much larger than you, no one was looking. You were alone.

And Law was somehow so far away.

“I don’t remember ever needing to listen to you,” the hyena chortled, his voice gravelly and nasally. “You should be lucky that you have a guy like me who’s into you. You’ll never be able to do better than me.”

You opened your mouth once more to shout a retort, but you were cut short. Bellamy’s clenched fist connected with your lower jaw, swiftly knocking you to the ground in a stunned shock. You fell like a lead brick, hitting the ground with a force that Law somehow felt through the soles of his shoes, rattling his bones and making his head spin. Your hands blindly scraped against the floor searching for your bearings, completely disoriented from the blow that had just met your bone. You brought one of your hands to your mouth, cupping your palm over your lips as your eyes closed, trying to block out every overwhelming color and sound filling your brain with a nuclear buzz.

And yet. No one. Noticed.

Law cleared the floor in an instant, just as Bellamy was yelling something about your worth being determined by your partnership with him. The fist inked with DEATH clocked the blonde in the temple, the short, stubbly blonde hairs leaving phantom singing pain on Law’s fingers. The hyena stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of the sofa you were previously sitting on.

For a brief moment, the med student was gloatingly proud of himself. His father was a retired marine after all. Law knew a thing or two about a good punch. His thoughts were quickly retired, however, as he crossed the crowded floor to your side, quickly helping you to your feet and pushing through the crowd with you hunched over in his arms, tripping over your heels as he rapidly escorted you to the door.

Don’t cause a scene.

Bellamy didn’t follow, and Law counted his blessings. “Hey, your apartment’s on this street, right?”

With a hand still cupped over your mouth, you nodded. Your eyes were barely keeping themselves open, what was visible of your face contorted in a muted agony.

If Law was any less collected, he would’ve stomped that hyena’s face in with the heel of his boot.

The two of you were barely getting anywhere with your afflicted state. Law scooped you into his embrace, your legs wrapping around his hips and free hand clenching the soft fabric of his shirt as he carried you back to your apartment with one of his arms carefully supporting your rump. Thank goodness you lived so close, in a converted townhouse on the corner of the same street. Law still lived in on-campus housing across town, which was less than ideal for his tastes. He helped you fish your key from the pocket of your pants, keeping you in his grasp while he pushed the door open and entered the narrow entryway of your home. Your roommate was gone for the week visiting family on the other side of the country, so your place was completely dark and quiet.

Law flipped the light switch on just in time to watch you scurry to the first floor bathroom as soon as your feet touched the hard wooden floor, leaving the door open as the light in the smaller space flicked on as well. He quickly followed, standing in the doorway as you finally pulled your hand away from your mouth.

A few droplets of blood were dotting your palm, but when you opened your mouth, a worryingly large glob of bright crimson exited past your lips and splattered in the white porcelain of the sink. Law’s stomach lurched as he watched you try in vain to spit out the metallic liquid, your entire face scrunching up as the nauseating sensation and taste. Your shoulders shuddered with the feeling of your gag reflex bobbing in the back of your throat, forcing your stomach to hold its contents as you released drops of bright red into the white porcelain of the wash basin.

The med student’s first thought was that one or more of your teeth had been knocked loose or even came out permanently, but nothing solid landed in the sink. As you began to calm down from your spitting into the basin, your eyes began to well with overwhelmed tears. You gazed at Law in the mirror, his golden eyes locked on yours as a small dribble of blood and spit slid down the skin of your chin.

Wordlessly, your friend stepped into the bathroom with you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and wetting it with warm water from the tap, wiping away the bloody drool that left your lips.

“I know it hurts, but I need you to open for me,” he muttered, gently holding your cheek in his hand as the other one balled up the toilet paper and discarded it into the open toilet bowl.

When you opened, Law reached into the back pocket of his speckled jeans and procured his phone, clicking on the flashlight without looking at his screen. He shined the light into your mouth and, to his relief, didn’t see any chipped, broken, or missing teeth. He did, however, see a substantial gash on the side of your tongue. You must have clamped down hard on the muscle with your teeth thanks to the force of the punch. The thought made a silent rage build in Law’s gut. He turned you around and closed the toilet lid, sitting you down and proceeding to rummage through your medicine cabinet.

He handed you two pieces of gauze wrap from below your sink. “I need you to hold these against the cut on your tongue, okay? Don’t remove them until I say so.”

You diligently followed his orders, taking the dry cloth from him and inserting it painfully into your mouth to rest on the stinging wound that cut your muscle. You watched as he continued to rummage through your supplies, pushing aside boxes of tampons and toilet cleaning chemicals and finally finding what he was hoping he would see- a brown plastic bottle. He stood from his crouching position, the bottle in his firm grasp. He spun the item around to gaze at its expiration date and hummed approvingly under his breath. He quickly exited the bathroom, leaving you alone for a few fleeting moments.

While he was gone, you were able to take a better look at your face. While one of your cheeks was puffed up slightly with the clump of gauze against your tongue, you could still make out the swelling of your skin on the same side. A large, black and blue bruise was quickly blooming along your jaw and up your cheek, your fractured capillaries leaking into your epidermis.

Law finally returned, a very small cup in his right hand and a bottle of diluted bleach in his left from the kitchen. You watched as he poured a small amount of clear liquid from the brown bottle into the small cup before running the sink tap and filling it the rest of the way with plain water. He handed the cup to you with no instructions before lightly spritzing the porcelain basin with the diluted chemical, running the tap once more and washing your blood away, making sure to scrub the entire bowl. He finally turned around to face you.

“I need you to swish that in your mouth for a few seconds, and then spit it out in the sink,” he directed. “It might taste kind of bitter.”

You carefully pulled the gauze out of your mouth, wincing as some of the light fibers pulled against your wounded muscle, but followed his directions and tossed the contents of the small cup back into your mouth, swishing with your cheeks puffed, trying to focus the liquid onto your wound. Just as Law warned, the taste was bitter, vaguely salty, but definitely not pleasant. Law finally stepped aside from the sink after a long 30 seconds and let you spit. Both the gauze and the clear solution you rinsed your mouth with were lacking blood, meaning your wound was already on the clotting and healing path.

After sputtering for a few moments, the faint smell of diluted bleach filling your nose from the sink, you placed the cup down on the counter and gazed at Law, who watched you with a keen eye. “What was that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide and water,” he uttered. “To disinfect your tongue. Luckily, peoples’ mouths tend to heal much faster than other body parts, so after a day or two of discomfort, you should be back to normal.”

Cleaned and disinfected, you finally started to let your mind sink on the gravity of the situation, your heart rate increasing and your eyes once again growing heavy and blurry with impending tears. You watched as Law, avoiding your gaze with a deep frown on his lips, grabbed your rinse cup from the counter and turned to head back to your kitchen. You quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt sleeve to stop him in his tracks, the fuzziness of your vision causing the colors of his form in front of you to waver and warp, but that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his lean torso in a hug, the warm wetness from your eyes soaking the cotton of his clothing.

“Please don’t leave,” you uttered into his chest, your body trembling. With the adrenaline finally subsiding, the pain radiating from your jaw grew more and more noticeable. Every movement seemed to irritate your bruised bone, and talking felt like trying to articulate with a lead weight attached to your mandible.

With your face smushed into his clothing, you didn’t see when Law placed the cup back down on your counter, only hearing the soft tap of the plastic against the linoleum surface. His arms carefully, as if to not shatter you where you stood, wrapped around your waist, one hand coming to rest comfortably in between your shoulder blades, his fingers sprawling out over your spine before retracting and collecting some of the fabric from your own shirt into his inked fingers. It felt like his hand was made specifically to bring you comfort.

—

It took some time for you to calm yourself down enough to relocate from the bathroom doorway to the small living space you typically shared with your roommate when she was home. You listened with your head resting on a soft pillow and an ice pack nursing your jaw as Law busied himself between your bathroom and kitchen, washing the cup, cleaning off the bathroom counter and sink for a second time, and disposing of the small garbage bag where your bloody gauze had ended up. Your living room was dark, with the only light coming from the kitchen, just enough to catch glimpses of Law’s shadow moving about the space. Your face ached from the force of crying against your bruised jaw bone, your eyelids uncomfortably sliding over your corneas, dry and fragile after expelling what was easily the rest of the water in your body.

After what felt like an eternity, Law finally emerged from the kitchen, carefully approaching your laid out form on the couch. He kneeled in front of you and adjusted the ice pack against your cheek slightly, the tenderness of his fingers ghosting over your own. Your heart galloped in your chest.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess,” you groaned, forcing your dry eyes closed to avoid Law’s pensive stare.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I acted on my own,” he replied stoically, his hand remaining within close proximity to your own. His tattooed fingers flexed a few times, eager to take your hand in his, but he eventually relented and let his limb fall back to his side.

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch, curling your legs up toward your chest. “But you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek at your words, his own chest clenching in disdain, not for you, but for the hyena that had left you feeling such a way. “I don’t care if I get hurt if it means you stay safe.”

When your eyes opened, they were small. Weak. Like you had been fighting some unknown battle in your skull for as long as you could remember. You truly looked tired and ragged, and Law wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms until all your life’s woes flushed away like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

“Law…” you began, your mouth opening and closing a few times, at a loss for what to continue with. “I never really liked Bellamy.”

The man stayed quiet, his lips pulled in a taut line.

“But sometimes, when you get really uncomfortable, all you can do is laugh and smile. Because you hope that acting friendly and cordial and cute will keep you safe from danger.” Your voice was so fragile, your words mumbled as you continued to cradle your jaw with the thawing ice pack against your skin. “I never wanted to hang out with Bellamy, but he scared me so much and I just… didn’t know how to say no. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

Again.

Law’s own jaw clenched, suppressing a bubbling rage as he relived the blonde’s actions from a few hours prior. A deep-rooted maniacal side of the medical student wished he could gut the D-1 athlete in his sleep, but what good would that do? It certainly wouldn’t help you in the way you needed it. And the fact that your attempts to protect yourself had only led you to getting attacked in the first place made his blood boil in his veins. But he needed to stay calm for you. Anger solves no issues. He learned that from Cora, his best friends, and now you.

A bout of anger got you out of the situation you were stuck in, and now you needed comfort.

“What…” he began, stumbling. “What do you want from me? To help you?”

After a few brief moments of silence, the only sound cutting through the darkness being the faint wrrr of your air conditioning unit, you finally spoke up. “Can you spend the night with me?”

Law blinked once, then twice. “Here?”

“Yeah. In my room.”

He gazed at you through the darkness, his golden eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You emitted a small gust of air through your nose. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Fair enough. “Do you have anywhere you want me to sleep?” he asked, helping you sit up against the couch cushions and carefully easing the ice back off of your jaw. The swelling had gone down substantially, but it would still take a week or two for the bruise to fully heal.

One of your hands remained planted against his shoulder, gripping the cotton of his shirt. “In my bed. I feel safe with you, Law. It’s really okay.”

After receiving your words of affirmation, Law stood from his crouched position and guided you to stand through the darkness, his hand in yours and the other clutched around the ice pack. He discarded the item on your kitchen counter to be dealt with in the morning, keen on getting you comfortable under your secure blankets. You gladly followed him, stepping carefully through the dark home into your bedroom where you blindly navigated to your bedside lamp, pulling down on the cord to activate the light. The warm orange glow flooded the room, making the two of you squint your eyes.

Law could finally see just how bad your bruise really was. A large, black and blue swollen welt tinged with red the exact size of a harshly clenched fist was carved across your skin. The sight of the impact was much more swollen compared to the other side. You had taken a hit most street thugs hadn’t ever dealt with.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it,” you asked, voice still paper-thin and anxious.

“It’s… definitely a decent injury,” Law responded bluntly, inwardly cursing himself at his awkward language.

You didn’t hold it against him, however. Instead, you stripped off your clothes, crawling into bed and leaving the other side open for Law.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, one more time.

You nodded. “Yes.”

Law followed your initial lead, taking off his jeans, followed by his shirt and socks, leaving only his boxers covering him. He carefully crawled into the space in your blankets you had left open for him, laying on his back like a plank with his hands awkwardly draped over his abdomen. You pulled down on the cord to your lamp once more and flooded the room with darkness.

The med student felt the mattress dip as you moved closer to him, effortlessly draping yourself over his body, as if you were made to fit into the crevice of his neck. His hands found their position around your back and waist yet again, surrounding you in the comfort you had been longing for all night. You nestled your face into the soft skin of his neck, slow, deep breaths setting a hypnotic, drowsy pace for the both of you to fall into slumber.

No words had to be exchanged, not until the morning at least. Your legs tangled together and your hearts beating in sync did all the talking for now.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #request fics

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 46 minutes

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As if I wasn't already exhausted enough this morning...

It's been brought to my attention that people are taking my fanfics, editing them, and sharing them around. I don't have the words to describe how not okay this is. If you don't like something about my fanfic, then I'm sorry to hear that, but there are a lot of other fics out there you can read instead.

I put time and effort and care into my writing, as does every writer. To take my work without permission and change it feels like someone just punched me in the gut. Frankly it makes me not want to share my work at all and to take down all the writing I do have up, because why should I share anything with people if all they're going to do is decide it's not good enough and they're going to do what they want with it and make it "better"?

And before anyone comes at me, this is not what a transformative work does. This is not the same as fanfiction. I'm fucking exhausted from working two eleven hour shifts over the weekend so my brain is not working so someone smarter and more articulate than I am can explain why. I'm tired.

This genuinely makes me want to take down all my works and not share anything new. It's very simple, kiddos: Don't like it? Don't read it. You will miss out on some fanfics that way, just like you'll miss out on some films, or books, or TV shows. I've missed out on really good fic, novels, films, etc, for the same reason. We all do. It's a part of life. Stuff will sometimes have things in it that you don't like. Skim those parts, fast-forward those scenes, grin and bear it, or just go and read/watch something else.

Normally I would make this post unrebloggable but I worry other writers in this fandom might experience the same thing and not realize it. So people are welcome to reblog this. Anyone who's an ass on it will be blocked, no second chances.

Just. Don't do this guys. Holy shit don't do this. What the actual fuck.

#mads writes stuff #911 abc #911 fanfic #yes unfortunately tagging the fandom since that's the fandom it happened in #I'm just #holy fuck #genuinely I want to message every writer I know in this fandom #even if we've never spoken #to like... warn them this is apparently a thing #I wish I could make my brain work right now but I'm so fucking braindead #I'm working three jobs and this is my fun relax safe space except NOT ANYMORE 'CAUSE PEOPLE ARE BEING DICKS #just... don't fucking do this what the FUCK is wrong with you #actual CHILDREN are more respectful holy fuck

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vscabarca · 3 days

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could you write a fic ab ferran being super jealous, you guys aren’t together only friends but you seem to be getting super close to one of the other barca boys and he doesn’t like that. so when you’re at a party one time he gets a bit drunk and pulls you away from everyone to confess his feelings for you

jealousy, jealousy - ferran torres

summary: ferran caught feelings for his childhood friend and gets jealous once he hears you might be seeing someone.

genre: fluff

a/n: thank you for the request anon💕

———

„dude you can’t just stare at her and do nothing about it.“ Gavi nudged Ferran‘s shoulder as they were walking onto the pitch before the game against Villareal. You sat at your usual spot, the one Ferran got for you, waving at the two boys with a smile once you saw them already looking at you.

Ferran had been a close friend of yours ever since your brother met him with fourteen during a tryout at the Valencian football academy. Sadly your brother didn’t make it into the team but Ferran never stopped coming over, even though his schedule was extremely busy.

You always had a different relationship with him than your brother, one that was much calmer and more gentle. Throughout the years, friends teased you two of becoming a couple eventually and you almost believed it, until Ferran moved to Manchester to pursue his dream. You couldn’t be more proud of him and even flew over to watch his games, but it just wasn’t the same anymore. So when you heard he‘d transfer to Barcelona, the city you moved to years ago, you were so happy to finally be spending more time with him. Then, you were told he had a girlfriend.

Sira, a gorgeous girl and Luis Enrique’s daughter. Your heart sunk once he‘d told you, not because of jealousy, but because you always thought he had feelings for you too. Seemed like you misinterpreted his words and actions when you were a teenager.

For a bit more than a year you gave him and Sira more space, not wanting her to think you were jealous and tried to distract yourself with other guys. You dated one here and there, but your mind never could stop thinking about the boy you knew since you were fourteen.

„I can’t. I think she’s seeing Moha from the Barça B team.“ Ferran explained to Gavi, his hand covering his mouth to avoid lip reading.

„I don’t know him too well but I‘ve never seen him with Y/n. Balde‘s throwing a party next weekend, then you‘ll see if you fucked up or not.“ Gavi snorted but gave his friend an encouraging tap onto his back.

Even though Ferran had been happy while he was together with Sira, his feelings for you came back once she had broken up with him over a year ago. He always had been attracted towards you, having a crush as a teenager which turned into real feelings over the years you were his friend. Sira made him forget those feelings when they were together, but once the relationship started to crumble, he knew you were made to be his. The thought of you seeing Moha made his gut wrench. Sure he was a great guy, but he couldn’t let you go for a second time.

Barça won the game 3:1 with Ferran even scoring a goal. He made his signature celebration, then pointed towards the stands where you sat at. After realizing the goal was dedicated towards you, a shy smile spread across your face.

„Great game Fer!“ You complemented him once you sat in his car and drove you home.

„Thank you, hermosa. Are you busy next Saturday? Balde‘s throwing a birthday party. He told me to bring a plus one.“ Ferran grinned, still on a high from the victory and having you in his passenger seat.

„Sure I‘d love to!“ You agreed with a smile.

Saturday rolled around quickly and throughout the day your thoughts wandered back to what Ferran would like you to wear. Eventually you decided on something comfortable and were just done with getting ready as you heard a car honk outside.

„You look pretty.“ He said as you sat down and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

———

Throughout the party you felt Ferran‘s eyes on you, leaving you all flustered when he made eye contact from across the room.

Your heart beat faster when you saw him smile or when you felt him put his arm around your shoulder. Ferran wasn’t much different. He wanted to impress you, to leave you wanting him as much as he wanted you. There was for sure jealousy behind it, silently wanting to show off how good you two got along.

All went great until Moha showed up. He immediately spotted you and you two immersed into light conversation, laughing together as he whispered something into your ear. Ferran didn’t think it was funny. After he saw you two so close, laughing, you touching his shoulder, he felt the jealousy build up in his system. Maybe it was also the alcohol he drank, but something about seeing you with Moha just wasn’t right. Especially not how the two of you seemed to be so close.

Gavi came up behind Ferran, immediately knowing what his friend was thinking.

„I swear Ferran if you don’t do something tonight and tell her, she‘ll leave with him.“ He threatened but Ferran knew he was right. He put his cup down after Gavi‘s words and walked up to you, interrupting the conversation you held with the Barça B player.

„Can I talk to you? It’s urgent.“ You sensed something was up. Usually he was talkative and smiled but now he looked distressed and upset, his gaze flickering between you and Moha. Moha awkwardly smiled after greeting Ferran and stepped a bit away to give you more space.

You nodded and gave your friend an appreciative smile, when Ferran took your hand and led you outside. Even though the atmosphere between you two was tense and irritating, your cheeks heated up once his hand grabbed yours.

He sat down on a bench, secluded from the other guests and motioned for you to sit down next to him.

„I can’t pretend anymore Y/n.“ Ferran said, his voice shaking once he turned his head to face you. You became nervous even though you didn’t know what he was saying.

„Pretend what?“ You softly spoke, trying to ease the unsettling tension around you two. Your hand wandered to the back of his neck like it often did before, and played with the short ends of his hair.

„pretend that I don’t love you.“ His word made you stop, his eyes never leaving yours once he said the words.

„I‘ve caught feelings for you when we were fifteen, going on vacation together with our families, sneaking out to the pool, telling each other the most embarrassing stories. I never had the courage to tell you because I was so scared. I was scared you‘d reject me and once I moved to England, I tried to forget you. When Sira broke up with me last year, I realized all I wanted is you. For you to be my girlfriend, not my best friend. It always had been you. Please tell me there’s nothing going on with Moha, and if yes, then I‘ll let you alone, but please think about this. About us.“ Ferran took your hands in his, silently hoping you’d say something, anything. The shocked expression on your face scared him even more, already wanting to apologize for his rambling, thinking he had officially messed things up. But you on the other hand could feel your heart beat out of your chest. The teenage love just confessed his feelings for you, but mixed Moha up for one of your potential lovers.

You couldn’t put your feelings into words, so you just grabbed Ferran by the back of his neck and crushed your lips lovingly against his. He was surprised at first, then immediately kissed you back, holding you by your waist and pulling you towards him. Forehead against forehead, you smiled sweetly at each other, both cheeks flushed from the kiss you just shared.

„I love you Ferran. And I don’t want to let you go too, I want to be with you.“ You whispered, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

„So there’s nothing going on with Moha?“ He asked rather surprised. You did understand why he would think that, but you guessed it was time to tell him.

„I‘ve spend so much time with him lately because I babysit his little sister. His parents are out of town for a while and he knew I babysit besides university.“ You grinned, gladly clearing up the misunderstanding.

„He came to me tonight to tell me his sister had a crush on my brother. That’s why we laughed so much.“

Ferran‘s eyes went wide once he realized everything was a big misunderstanding, but was even more glad that you always waited for him too.

„Oh.“ Was the only answer he could muster to which you only shook your head.

„Stick to football, you’re still not the smartest.“ You joked but Ferran acted offended.

„Hey!“ He laughed, but was quick enough to lean back in again to kiss you passionately.

„But I was smart enough to make you mine, hermosa.“

#fc barcelona #football one shot #football x reader #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres one shot #ferran torres #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader

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disregardcanon · 23 hours

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this probably seems like a weird question from your end,but why do fanfic writers care so much about comments? aos already tracks hits and likes, sorry ""kudos"", so why are comments such a big deal to the point that people will stop writing?

okay, so i'm going to take this question very seriously and i promise it's not to make you feel bad. this is a comprehensive explanation of reasons that comments are important for me, both as a writer and as a reader

engagement vs numbers game

seeing trends

buy-in

community building

engagement vs numbers game

let's look quickly at two different fics of mine. this is the kudos count for a fic called Of First Kisses and Burnt Lips

it's old. it's been up on ao3 for almost 11 years now. 258 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, 12 people liked it enough for a bookmark, and it's been clicked on 3,859 times.

i have no clue what almost any of these people on ao3 THINK about it. beyond "huh. sure. i'll kudos that". compare this to its crosspost on ffn, where i got 5 reviews

3/5 mention it being cute. 3/5 give appreciation to me for taking the time to write it. 2/5 praise the writing itself from the attention to detail with grammar to the craft. 1/5 is an "um..." which is hard to decipher but appreciate and 1/5 is a silly reaction, but it's a reaction! look, someone felt a felling reading my thing! that made me giggle!

looking at the stats here from a purely numbers perspective, my fic DID better on ao3. it got a lot more kudos than it ever got faves or reviews on ffn. but those ffn comments are still what i think about when i remember this fic.

sure, a shear number like hits or kudos can be comforting and motivating. i'm definitely not telling you to NOT leave kudos! but the fics that i've come back to, recently, are the ones where i don't have a lot of kudos but i do have a few people who are invested in the stories and leaving comments to tell me

2. seeing trends

lets look at a few of the comments on my fic The Maid of Honor Made Them Do It

so just in these two comments, we see both commenters hone in on the same detail: my choice to include a special christian music playlist that this characters' friends made for her. a few other people in this thread mentioned that same detail, so i know this bit really worked well! it's great feedback that lets me know that a good chunk of readers agree with my characterization here.

these readers zoom in on specific details that they really liked! things that made them laugh, the absurdity of the concept, enjoying reading it, and that they could see it staged, which is a HUGE compliment for a work in a fandom for theater.

i've always had trouble with imaging where characters are in a space, how they're occupying it and moving, and how to use that for characterization purposes. however, i got more than one comment on this fic about how people could see it staged! that means that i'm improving in an area that i've always struggled with. that's huge. it makes me want to keep working on this thing! it makes me feel like what i'm doing here matters, because lots of people are picking up on similar things! they're invested enough to give me a comment! and it makes me want to keep writing for the hatchetfield fandom because some people are invested in my work here. that is BIG! seeing trends in the way that readers experience your story helps a lot with writer buy-in for a project and also for writers self-analysis.

as a commenter: this helps me JUST as much. when i really dig into what i enjoyed about a fic to tell the writer about it, that helps me analyze and articulate the strengths and things i might want to take away from the storytelling, and that makes my writing better too!

3. buy-in

this is a comment on a series that has less than 100 kudos across three fics, but has thoughtful, appreciative comments on each work. it's called Melting Pot

the commenter deleted their ao3 account. they may be one of the people who commented on the next fic, which i posted recently. they might NOT have been! honestly, it doesn't matter that much to me. this person gave me a gentle and nudge about a fic that matters to me and mattered to them at the time, and they were part of the push i needed to get back to it.

from a commenter perspective, i know that hearing a kind word can help someone keep up their motivation to write, even when i can't write in depth comments the way that i like to!

just recently i only had the time to comment "nice update" on a favorite fic of mine called Teeth That Turn. but they know that i come and i read and they know and talk to me by (user)name. because they know i care about this thing they care about! and it's way more fun to do something like this when i know i can chat with the author about theories and thoughts and ideas. and this isn't a "wow aren't i so cool other writers like me! tehehe" bragging thing, it's just evidence for the case of why comments matter?

if i didn't want this to be a two way buy-in, i'd ONLY read published fiction, you know? we're all playing in the sandbox on the playground and i like what they made. they like that i like what they made :) we're scheduling a play date to fight with sticks after school my mom said it's okay!

4. community building

now i know that i just mentioned above here why i like being a commenter and how it helps authors, as well as why i like HAVING commenters as an author. i'm still arguing those things as a lead up to this section, where i have two other points to make about community building here too.

1. you can comment on OTHER comments! if you go through and read to see what other people are saying, you can agree with them. you can add some commentary! sometimes you can make a joke! and i've only ever had fun responses from something like that. authors tend to love that their fics are getting such a response that people are talking to each other about it! like look!!!!!! my thing got you to talk to someone else about it holy shit?!??!

2. commenting on fics in your fandom builds you a good reputation and makes other authors you comment on more likely to read YOUR fic. i'm not going to post any screenshots on this one because it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, but there have been authors that i really admired who gave my stuff a try after i commented on theirs. and they've told me that's why they tried it! like obviously it's not just networking or whatever, but it's really nice to have someone give your stuff a try because you've been enthusiastic and thoughtful about theirs.

and you make friends this way! fandom friends! who want to talk about your blorbos! you get to go on little play dates in cyberspace with cool people who like what you like. you don't ever HAVE to be a writer, of course. if you don't want to throw your hat into the ring or make art or edits or gif sets or anything, that's cool. no one ever has to participate in fandom outside of their comfort zone! but if you want to, you know that you'll feel more welcomed if you have some people in your corner for it, and making friends in a space, screaming about how much you love the characters you love, and remembering that fic authors especially are just fans too will help you feel like you "deserve" to exist in the space. maybe you don't write, but you go here too. you've got a space in the fandom and your comments don't have to be, like, perfect literary essays for authors to appreciate them and get a motivation boost from them still existing and us being able to go back to them and go!!! look!!! i don't suck!!! this person liked what i did so i'm okay! :)

#anons #writing things #ao3 things #the case for commenting

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shotmrmiller · 21 hours

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The gossip ask with Gaz 10/10

Now imagine uf!Gaz. He’s whispering his opinions on the patrons in your ear every chance he gets. And then there’s you trying to keep a straight face. He’d also comment on the fights going on how he’d knock them out if he were in the ring. He’s making the evenings more enjoyable. If it weren’t for Simon’s stare boring into the back of your head.

uf!gaz i feel is the bodyguard.

i was gonna write about it in the fic but might as well do that here too. he's the one that keeps you safe when your boy's punching teeth down throats. he'll curl an arm around your shoulder and turn that worried frown upside down.

oh man wait because imagine kyle leaving your side for a bit, price gesturing at him from across the room and fine. "man business" or whatever the fuck.

but when he comes back, his arm cinches around your waist, fingers finding the curve of your hip. his brows are set, corners of his lips pulled down. you want to ask something, anything, but he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"don't. you sit still, keep your eyes lowered to the ground, and make yourself seem as small as possible."

now you're scared. fear pricks at your nerves, dread crawls up your bowed spine, anxiety sinks into your stomach like a rock does in a small pond.

mmmmmm something something crooked cop graves.

#toni asks

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glorious-spoon · 3 days

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tell me all the things that i wanna hear [9-1-1 | Buck/Tommy; Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

1.3k words | feelings realization | episode tag

about a week ago i wrote this post about an eddie feelings realization at the bachelor party, so naturally after last night's episode i had to write the fic.

tell me all the things that i wanna hear [on AO3]

He doesn't remember it right away.

Which is… not surprising, probably. The bachelor party that wasn't marks the drunkest he's been since before Chris was born, possibly the drunkest he's ever been in his life. He wakes up in a bathtub shirtless and so hungover that he wants to die, and then they discover that Chimney is missing, and it's a long, stressful, terrifying fucking day that keeps Eddie way too busy to focus on any of the garbled flashes of memory from last night. Busting down a hotel door and shouting off-key karaoke at Buck and tilting sloppily together while they poured each other shots—stupid party shit that he's honestly too old for. They're definitely going to owe the hotel damage fees out the ass.

But in the end, Chim is okay. Or, if not okay, at least safely ensconced in a hospital bed. Eddie leaves to pick Chris up from Pepa's and he's still there, shooting the shit with his abuela and slowly sipping his fourth Gatorade of the day in the hopes that it'll settle his stomach enough for him to eat dinner, when he gets the text from Buck that the wedding is still on and he needs to get his ass back to the hospital. So he packs Chris in the car, and doesn't fight it when his abuela also insists on coming—Pepa waves them off with an indulgent smile—and doesn't allow himself to be relieved that the short notice means he has an excuse not to mention it to Marisol.

It's a beautiful wedding, in the end. Perfectly imperfect, in the way all the best things in life are. Eddie gets a little teary-eyed when Chim and Maddie slip the rings onto each other's fingers, and he claps with all the rest, and he just happens to glance up in time to see a flash of blue as Buck slips out the door.

For a moment, he considers following, but Karen nearly trips bringing the cake in, so Eddie jumps in to catch her before tonight can turn into any more of a catastrophe than it already is. From there, there's the usual party bustle of divvying up cake and passing out paper plates, and he forgets about Buck for a little while, at least until he tugs Tommy through the door, the both of them beaming like fools and covered in soot in a way that makes it very fucking obvious what Buck just spent the last twenty minutes doing with his mouth.

Eddie doesn't remember it then, either. He snickers while he watches the rest of the room catch on, while Buck introduces Tommy around to the people who don't already know him, and he catches Buck by the arm as he's making his way over to the cake.

"You might want to go wash your face there, bud," he says.

"What?" Buck blinks at him. Then he rubs at his cheek, and looks at his sooty hand, and goes bright red. "Oh. Um. Shit."

"Yeah."

"I was wondering why…" To Eddie's relief, he's laughing. "Well, that's one way to come out to everybody. Right?"

Eddie laughs. "I guess so. You feeling alright about it?"

"Yeah," Buck says. He glances over to where Tommy is talking to Chim and Maddie. Like he sensed it, Tommy glances up and grins brilliantly at him, and Eddie watches something in Buck's expression go soft and warm and pleased. "Yeah. I'm—I'm feeling really, really good about it."

Eddie's heart gives a funny little thump in his chest. He pats Buck's arm, then lets go. "Well, good. Happy for you, man."

"Thanks, Eddie." Just for a moment, Buck turns that soft expression on him. Then he says, "I'm gonna, uh, go wash up. Save me some cake!"

"Sure," Eddie says, but Buck's already gone. He threads through the crowd to Tommy's side, says something in a low voice to him that makes him laugh and Chim put a long-suffering hand over his eyes. Then they're both moving toward the door together, Tommy's hand resting low on Buck's back.

"Dad, can I have another slice of cake?"

He looks down at Chris. "I don't know, mijo, it's kind of…"

"Come on."

"Alright, fine," Eddie says, caving, if only so he doesn't keep looking at the door that Buck and Tommy left through.

They reappear a few minutes later, freshly scrubbed, and Eddie watches Hen hug first Buck, and then Tommy, who looks startled but hugs her back. Then they head through the crowd together toward the cake. Their hands are linked together. Eddie decides that's a good moment to go give Maddie and Chim his congratulations.

He doesn't remember it then, either. It's not until later, when the crowd is finally trickling out ahead of the end of visiting hours and Maddie and Chim take turns hugging a sleepy Jee-Yun before handing her over to Mrs. Lee, that Buck sidles up to him.

"I'm gonna get going," he says. Then, to Chris, "Hey, Superman. Awesome party, huh?"

Chris shrugs, all studied adolescent indifference like he didn't insist on coming along. "It was okay. The cake was good."

"Actually, we should probably get going pretty soon too," Eddie says. "Abuela, you good?"

She flaps a hand at him and goes back to her conversation with Mr. Lee, and Buck says, "I'm gonna, uh, give Tommy a ride back to the station so he can drop off his gear."

He's blushing again. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. "Just to the station, huh?"

"Shut up," Buck mutters, but he looks pleased. He looks happy, the way a smile steals helplessly onto his face when he glances up at Tommy, who's standing by the door with his turnout coat slung over his arm, talking to Karen. Who glances up like he could tell Buck was looking at him, and smiles back.

"I mean it," Eddie says, instead of ribbing him some more. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Buck mutters, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a jostling half-hug. "I love you, man. You know that, right?"

Eddie tilts against him, his nose just bumping the edge of Buck's jaw, and that's when the memory hits him like a bullet, or a lightning bolt, or something equally sudden and devastating.

That couch in the hotel room. Sitting there with Buck's arm around his shoulders and one of Buck's legs flung over his knees—his shirt was gone by then, and Buck had lost his jacket, and Eddie could feel the warmth of his body through the thin tee he had on underneath. He was waving his hands as he spoke, jostling Eddie, and Eddie turned his face toward Buck and bumped his nose against his cheek just like he is now, and thought with perfect, sober clarity, I could kiss him right now. I want to kiss him.

He goes still. Buck must feel it, because he jostles Eddie a little, his warm, stubbled jaw rough against the bridge of Eddie's nose for just an instant before Eddie turns his head away. "Eddie? You good?"

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't look up at Buck. Isn't sure he could stand to see his face, this close: his blue eyes, his soft lips, he was just kissing Tommy, he wants Tommy, not you, and anyway you're not—you don't—you can't— "Yeah, I'm good. Just kinda hoping I never see another shot of tequila as long as I live."

"Oh, tell me about it," Buck says, and finally releases him. "In retrospect, that was so fucking dumb." "Swear jar," Chris remarks, without looking up from his Switch.

"Put it on my tab," Buck says, ruffling his hair. "See you guys later."

"Yeah, later," Eddie says, a beat too late. Buck doesn't seem to notice, thankfully. He gives Eddie a quick grin and heads back to where Tommy is waiting. Karen hugs him, and then Hen does, and Tommy waves at Eddie, who manages to gather the wherewithal to wave back. And then they're gone.

Eddie rubs his knuckles against his sternum, where a dull ache has taken up residence, then lets his hand and pulls a smile on before anyone can see.

#911 #911 spoilers #buddie #bucktommy #eddie diaz #evan buckley #tommy kinard #my fic

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ragnarlothcat · 3 days

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I know I’m a chronic overthinker but I’ve been in the same fandom for three years or so now and I was reflecting that writing seemed so much easier when I first started out. Just looking at my output since 2021 shows a clear trend: I’ve been writing much less and it’s been taking me way longer.

I figured that I’d gotten a little burned out and that three years is a long time to focus solely on the same two guys making out and that there’s a limit to the number of situations I can put them in before I start to get bored. But I don’t think that’s quite my problem because even now, a million years later, I have ideas for dozens of fics and AUs that would be interesting to explore or funny to write.

No, it’s that I’ve let the larger fandom overwhelm me and it’s left me constantly second-guessing my writing. And I don’t mean that I’ve gotten nasty comments or asks, because I haven’t! All the other fans have been consistently wonderful and fun people with really valuable insights. And it’s not that I’ve been obsessing over stats or comments or worrying about going against popular headcanons. I mean, I’m just as excited as anyone else to see an AO3 email in my inbox but I’m also perfectly happy posting niche fics for an audience of me and my three weirdest friends.

It’s more that after so long engaging with other fans and other fics and the general meta, I’ve ended up writing too self-consciously. I’ve read so many interpretations of canon events, analyses of characterization and comparisons between fiction and real-world politics over the years, and I’ve enjoyed them because I genuinely care about these stories and these characters! I like seeing what everyone else thinks and then considering their points of view, no matter how bewildering they might seem at first.

But now it feels like I’m writing almost defensively, like I have to justify every choice I’m making based on this enormous and contradictory body of information. Three years ago I’d have written a scene in a few thousand words and moved on to the next plot point with my momentum intact. Now I’m constantly wringing my hands over things like physical details (I guess he’s not exactly a redhead) or broader social implications (is this trope misogynistic?) or finicky logistics (these locations are too far apart for this scene to make sense) or controversial character nuance (does writing this guy as a kind, doting husband make me an abuse apologist???) and the result is that I’m paralyzed with indecision and a ridiculous need to support everything I write with a lot of context that isn’t especially fun to write or, I suspect, especially fun to read.

I’m aware that this problem is entirely in my own head and that no one has asked me for any of this. And it’s not that all those questions aren’t interesting and important things to contemplate. But I miss the days of sitting down at my laptop and going “wouldn’t it be funny if these dorks played a video game together?” and then writing exactly that.

I don’t know. Were my fics better three years ago? I kind of doubt it. I’ve looked back at some of them and if nothing else I now have a better grasp of what tense I’m supposed to be using. But I definitely had more fun writing those older stories, which maybe feels more important.

#personal #rambling #and it's not that i want the fandom to change or anything #i think i need to reboot my brain back to obikin factory settings #where i saw two handsome co-dependent space wizards and imagined them having weirdly intense sex #idk i always assume that other people are rational #and that there's some validity to their interpretation of canon or characterization #but if you try to write a fic with all these ideas in your head at once you will literally explode #anyway i might delete this later #i am just staying true to form and ruminating pointlessly instead of writing something i might enjoy

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pockettwinzz · 8 hours

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Ours - L.HS | S.JY

🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎pairings🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : student!heeseung x student!fem reader x student!jake

🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎warnings🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : NSFW, smut, threesome, (adding more as I write...)

🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎A/n🝮︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ : It might take it a lil long to write so I apologise for the wait 😭 and this is actually my first time writing a threesome fic so I'll do my best :D

It's the first day of the rest of your life. Or, at least that's what they say. But as you lie here on your new twin-sized bed, the room cold and unfamiliar, it's hard not to feel a little uneasy.

Heeseung and Jake, your new roomates, are already unpacking their things, tossing clothes into the dresser and hanging posters on the walls. They're both pretty decent-looking, Heeseung, tall and lean, with bambi eyes that seem to see right through you, and Jake, a bit shorter but broader, with hair the color of rich mahogany and a smile that could charm the pants off anyone.

They've been talking about you, you can tell. You catch snippets of their conversation: "…think she'll fit in?" "…not sure if she's into us…" It's like they're sizing you up, trying to decide whether or not you're worth their time. You try not to let it bother you, but the nervous flutter in your stomach only grows as they begin to pay you more attention.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡@cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @hoonieshoney @emi-en

༘˚⋆𐙚Taglist(open) ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @woniefull @tanisha2060 @iheartjayke @brownsugarbaybee @deobitifull @sunghoonsgff

#pockettwinzz writes #divider by dollywons #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen #enhypen smut #jake x reader #heeseung x reader #heejake #jake smut #heeseung smut #heeseung x you #jake x y/n

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jeeaark · 15 hours

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in a timeline where the illithid invasion never happen, a world where the absolute never existed, what would greygold's life be like? or maybe even lae'zel's? a world where they stumble upon each other without all the destruction around them.

The funny thing is.

Without squids trying to ruin their life, Greygold would have never discovered the power of friendship

Worse even, they'd still be a dispassionate lone ranger with questionable bird ethics surviving the wilderness and living off raw eggs like a weirdo.

Meanwhile, Lae'zel is still a Vlaakith devotee and if they stumble upon each other without a plot to drive them to work together and get to know each other... Bad things would happen! Someone would probably die. Most likely Greygold. But! Lets say. A plot did happen.

Buckle up buckaroos. This train thought went off the rails enough that I had to draw pics. Faster than writing out a 13k+ fic (for me anyway).

Let's say Greygold got the 'steal the githyanki egg ' job from Esther. Let's say they succeeded in sneaking in and out without too much of a fuss (mostly involving cat familiar distractions). And something Unfortunate happens before Greygold could complete the quest, leaving Greygold with an egg that eventually hatches:

And the githyanki child is not your average run-of-the-mill space lad either (Who loves eating raw eggs now too. It's fine. Builds character. Probably) But uh yeah, that whoosh accidentally cosmos-signaled all the githyankis and Vlaakith to which she reacts with a 'Wtf? Did anybody just get Prince of the Comet vibes from that? With a "I love egg" aftertaste? No? Just me? Hrm.... I do currently have a lot of free time on my hands....Fetch me that child. I want to study him like a bug. I'm suddenly feeling... Creatively ambitious with a side case of nefarious today. Might bury an old big secret if that kid is replacement-viable.' Thus search patrols investigate-

And never return.

After the first surprise patrol disaster, Greygold has been putting their danger ranger skills to good use via setting up counter-ambushes for all the constant surprise attacks. Classic "who is hunting who?" ordeal.

Nonetheless, there is more of them than there is of Greygold, so they resort to hiding in the Underdark after realizing the githyankis don't have dark vision and it's more environmentally dangerous than the surface. It is also a fun learning experience for the kid. Search patrols continue to never return. Until-

Lae'zel can't help but notice her mission orders do not add up and her rationality has a mighty need to make sense of it before solving problems with immediate hostility. Meanwhile this has been Greygold's first super tiny dose of kindness involving people interactions in years. Instant crush. Chase Shenanigans Ensue. Until child makes their first hunting trap. Instead of catching food, Lae'zel is captured. It also turns out the over-the-top trap involves sinking sand and a nest of Ankhegs (giant burrowing man-eating bugs). Greygold tries to help Lae'zel. For Reasons.

Something akin to mutual respect is formed. Stuck working together. Get to know each other. Discuss contradictions with mission. Verdigris worms his way into Lae'zel's heart (as much as she loathes his name). Escape the Ankheg nest which had terribly escalated because a giant fire ant invasion decided to overrun the ankheg nest at the same time.

Everyone is covered in bug guts after this.

Something something bond over experience enough to trust and listen to each other's opinions. Short Rest. Negotiate. Discuss plans to investigate Da Truth together. Shenanigans Ensue. Then Bad Shenanigans Ensue. Argument Ensues, resulting in Lae'zel Splitting Off. Verdigris disagrees with this approach and chases Lae'zel in order to bring back. Unanticipated Ambush happens at most inopportune moment. Greygold is Captured.

But they escape. Not before confronting Vlaakith's projection and discovering her plans and secrets thanks to one extremely curious Verdigrisgold (Verdi for short omg so long) with ridiculous super psionic powers.

And then they coincidentally interwovenly meet/save/recruit their bg3 companions anyway because there are no mindflayer abduction to stall certain ill-fated situations from happening to certain Companions-to-be and I need for them to be OKAY. So. Greygold discovers the power of friendship again. But is also now co-parenting a fate-of-the-githyanki-freedom child with Ex-Vlaakith-devotee Lae'zel. How's that for an AU timeline?

#What the hell do I even tag this as #bg3 spoilers #I GUESS ???????#lae'zel #Greygold #Bg3 AU #The only reason Greygold even knows that what Verdigris is is because of their craftsman background.#Originally was GreenGold. But. Easy Weed Joke.#Somehow. The Emperor is also involved -Somehow-#I am now suddenly realizing that I accidentally made up a mandalorian AU.... HRM. Still a fun thought.

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charlies-diary-entries · 11 hours

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Hi!! Your metamorphmagus!reader with poly marauders was so cute I can’t help but ask for more! Anything works but if you need a more specific request could you do one where they’re just pranking Slytherin with reader? Or a little aftermath of the confession and where they go from there?

Your choice ofc and I might just be your biggest fan 💗☝️

ugh lovey, im your biggest fan! trust darling, i will write a prank fic soon enough, but this was on my mind and i really wanted to get it out of my head and into words. hope you enjoy <3

Ever since you'd all confessed to each other, the boys had been loving on you almost non-stop. Walking you to and from class, study dates in the library, dates down in Hogsmeade, cuddle piles in their room, the Gryffindor common room, hell, sometimes James would skip class just to wrap his arms around you and hang off of your shoulders all day long.

All that time together gave them a plethora of opportunities to better understand you and your abilities. It thrilled each of them to know you better, to learn your likes and dislikes, but they were particularly fond of the way your magic always gave you away.

You, however, found it to be ridiculously embarrassing.

Memories and syrupy sweet thoughts of your boys chased around your head as you finished up their gifts, your 3-month anniversary coming up. God, to think it had already been that long!

It was a week after your shared confession (which had ended in maybe the best cuddles of your life and many very, very sweet kisses) as you walked to Herbology. Remus had just caught you in the hall before you went outside and pressed a kiss to your cheek, wishing you a good day. You were still adjusting to the boys' heightened presence in your life. The suddenness of it all, it felt... unreal. But you were happy. So, very happy.

"Hey! Gorgeous!"

Sirius's shout broke your reverie and you glanced up to find him bounding towards you, grin stretched ear to ear.

"Hey Siri," you smiled back at him, "What's up?"

"Nothin much. Love the pink by the way, why'd you change it?"

You could feel your face flush as your hair shifted back to it's natural color, Sirius pressing a loving kiss to your temple as his arm snaked around your waist.

"It's-" You had to consciously keep your hair natural, the tips of your hair settling to a nice pink. It was the best you could manage. "Well, I didn't really mean to, it just- Well, Remus he- he kissed me. A minute ago, in the hall."

Sirius's brow furrowed as you both continued to walk. "What's that got to do with your hair, Dove?"

"It just- It changes. Sometimes." You had a horrible, sinking feeling that Sirius would use this information completely to his advantage and you'd never get away with anything again. The pink continued to spread throughout your hair as Sirius pulled you both to a stop.

He brought a hand to your hair, fascinated as he played with it, watching the color creep up to your roots. His smile turned scary mischievous as he brushed a thumb over your cheek, before continuing to stroke your hair.

"Dove, is it that you're flustered?"

You stuttered and looked to the ground as Sirius laughed, guiding your gaze back to him before he kissed you. You sighed as your eyes fluttered closed, reaching up to place your own hand on his cheek.

You both had soft smiles as you pulled apart, foreheads resting against each others. Your hair was almost completely normal again when Sirius spoke.

"Oh, you're so done, darling."

He grinned, mischievous and daring as he leaned near your ear.

"Now I know your secrets, I think I quite like the color pink on you."

You squeaked as he pinched your side, pushing you towards the greenhouse. You looked back to him waving his fingers at you, sly and with no kind intention at all. You huffed, turning and entering Herbology.

You got several compliments on your hot pink hair that class period.

You smiled to yourself, flushed with embarrassment thinking of that first time your magic had told on you. Sirius had since used it quite to his advantage, doing his best to get your hair to turn outrageous colors, loving the way it looked on you.

(Anytime a professor dared to think of dress coding you, he would jump in and take the blame for it every time. He would probably do just about anything for you, now that you thought about it.)

That first time was sweet, and it certainly wasn't the only time either. Getting used to having the boys around meant getting used to them knowing your tells; This meant more than just the sweet, romantic ones.

You sat, curled up and tucked away in some very far corner of the library, hands cupped around your ears as tears streaked down your face. The darkness and quiet were certainly helping, but panic gripped tightly at your lungs and seeped your air away from you.

It was torture.

Familiar torture, but torture all the same.

Eventually, the panic subsided and your tears melted away. With your breath finally returned to you, you swiped a hand down your shifting face to ensure you were put together, then shuffled off to the rest of your day. The attack irked you, certainly, but you weren't about to let something so infinitesimal derail your day.

Slipping into your potions seat, James perked up and turned to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and tugged you into his chest, humming and careless of the other students around you. He shoved his face into your neck and you sighed, stroking his hand as it rested on your tummy.

"How've you been today James?"

"Alright," he spoke, muffled into your skin, "S'been alright. Missed you."

You rolled your eyes, a small smile making it's way to your lips. You grabbed the hand you'd been stroking as you pulled away from him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Well, good thing you've got me now then, isn't it?"

"What's happened to you, Dove?"

The sudden concern pouring off of James as he met your eyes was unexpected and you awkwardly smiled, trying to put the past hour or so before this moment to the very back of your mind. (It did not work.)

"What d'you mean Jamie?"

"Your eyes-" he cupped your cheek, leaning in to get a better look. "They're blue. They're all ocean-y and iridescent."

Your eyebrow arched up as he frowned. He began to rub your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Dove, that happens when you've been crying."

Your jaw dropped in a quiet "oh". Had you really cried around your boys enough for them to discover another quirk of yours? You hadn't even known that happened. Really, something so simple as your eye color? You looked away, turning into James's palm and hiding your face in it, willing your eyes normal again.

"Didn't realize that had happened. Sorry."

"What do you have to apologize for Dove?"

He glanced around to ensure there were no snooping students or god forbid, the professor, before kissing you and pulling you into his arms fully. Your eyes welled again at the feeling as you returned the hug.

"It's alright Dovey. Let me hold you for a minute right now, and then the second potions is over, we skip the rest of the day so we can cuddle up in my room, alright?"

You giggled, "We can't just skip cause I'm a bit upset."

At this James scoffed. "As far as I'm concerned, the whole entire world should stop if your shoelace so much as comes untied. Everyone ought to kneel down and tie it for you, then give you anything you want."

This made you laugh more, a few tears streaking down your cheeks as James smiled and held you tighter.

"There you are, lovey."

Truly, you got all warm and fuzzy every time the boys pointed yourself out to you. That they cared to notice, that they cared to let you know, that they loved every little magical quirk so much, it made your heart pool with adoration for the boys.

Despite James's feelings on the matter, you felt the world should bow down to them. They'd given you so much love, made you feel so important and normal, it felt there was no possible way to thank them sometimes.

No possible way to love them back the way they loved you.

The bittersweet thought was chased away as the door to the boy's dorm creaked open and you rushed to finish off the very last bow on the presents for your darlings.

"Hey Dove, what're you doin' here?"

Remus draped his body over yours from behind, arms snaking around yours and trapping you into his chest. You laughed as he smushed his face into your temple, taking in a deep breath and then letting out a very long sigh.

"Nothing much. Finishing off a surprise for you all."

"A surprise?"

At this, he lifted his head to see the boxes placed amongst his, Sirius, and James's beds, all done up with a bow and a card each, then one card for all three of them placed on Remus's desk. He smiled, turning back into your neck and leaving a warm kiss there.

"This is lovely, but you didn't have to Dove. Thought we'd spend the anniversary just snuggling and drinking and eating and such. Celebrate each other."

At this he nipped your skin and it sent you into a short tizzy of giggles. While you laughed, he turned you around in his arms and began to place butterfly kisses around your entire face.

"I- I know, Remus. Just felt like doing something- stop!- something nice!"

You fought through your giggles as he pulled back to smile at you, placing one more heated kiss to your lips.

"Well, thank you Dove."

Another kiss, his hands tightening around your waist as he guided you towards his bed.

"Really, you're so wonderful, what are we to do with you?"

You laughed as he pushed you down onto the sheets, continuing to press hot kisses to your lips, then your jaw, then slowly down your neck. You breath hitched as he nipped at the bottom of your neck, beginning to kiss and suck at the skin just below the collar of your shirt.

"R-Rem-"

"Hurry up Sirius, I haven't seen either of them all day and I-"

And all of a sudden James rushed into the room, stopping short at the sight in front of him. A very pretty flush began to crawl up his neck as he stared at you, and then Remus, and then you, and then Remus as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

"What's finally got you quiet- Oh."

Sirius followed after him, a smirk growing on his face.

"Starting the festivities without us I see."

You could feel your own face grow warm as Remus sat beside you, tugging you up so you could lay on his chest between his legs.

"S'not my fault you two are slow-pokes."

With this, Remus pressed yet another kiss to your cheek, and you could've sworn you felt steam escape your ears as he began to travel lower again. Sirius barked out a laugh as this happened, noting the very real and very adorable steam that actually shot out from the sides of your face.

"Guess we've got to make up for lost time, huh?"

With that, Sirius pressed a kiss to James's cheek and slapped his ass before bouncing over to you and Remus, eager to participate. James (now sufficiently red in the face and very flustered) was quick to follow.

Your presents were easily forgotten in the way the boys completely filled your space and your heart and your mind. Their love was so overwhelming it left almost no room for anything else.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

apologies if anythings a little confusing, i'm finishing this off with a bit of alcohol in my system lol!! hope you enjoyed lovely! sorry it took so long! <3

#poly!marauders x you #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders reader insert #wolfstar x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader

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