#her: since I can’t bring you soup

[booksinpiles]

[jinhyun]

—catalyst.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s little brother au

word count: 5.4k

summary: when your best friend points out how there seems to be something more than just a platonic friendship going on between you and hyunjin, you couldn’t help but start questioning everything you’ve been doing together so far.

a/n: and we finally get y/n’s pov!! (and a little bit of hyunie’s as always lol can’t help myself). there is a lotttttt of overthinking on her end so please go easy on her, she just got hit by facts she hadn’t thought twice about before (thank u chan).

if anyone comes across this in the tags, this is part 15.2 of a social media series called heart out! you can read it as a stand-alone but i wouldn’t recommend it since there are a lot of references to the previous parts of the story.

as always i hope you all enjoy! if you do, please let me know your thoughts on it<3

When you woke up that day, you never would’ve expected to end up with so many unanswered questions by the end of it.

It was supposed to be a normal day — a great one, actually. You were having lunch at the Hwang’s household, and that itself was enough to make you happy as ever.

It had been a while since you’d last seen Hyunjin and Yeji’s parents, let alone shared a meal with them, so you took it upon yourself to get up extra early that morning in order to make some dessert for them —a lemon pie and a chocolate one, as they were Mr. and Mrs. Hwang’s favourites— and still have enough time left to get ready.

Yeji called you out as soon as she and Chan arrived to pick you up, ranting about how it wasn’t necessary for you to bring anything, while you and Chan could only laugh, knowing well enough she was already eyeing the lemon pie and thinking of how many pieces she would have.

What only made it funnier to you was that you knew you’d get a similar reaction from Hyunjin once you met him at his parents’, only he’d be eyeing the chocolate pie instead.

Said and done, as soon as you entered their house and Hyunjin came up to greet you —not without first letting you know just how hurt he was over you sharing a ride with your friends instead of him—, he began to go on about how he told you that you didn’t need to bring their parents any presents, like you said you would after his mother had so generously made you some soup when you were in bed with a fever a week ago. Nevertheless, you could see the way he stole a few glances at the chocolate pie, before offering to take it to the kitchen, while Yeji did the same with the lemon one. You could never get bored with these two.

Their parents, you knew very well by now, were just the same as them. It was clear where Yeji and Hyunjin got their humor and antics from.

You always had a very nice time with them, as they’d always find the right topic to keep the conversation going. But then for some reason your dating life made it to the conversation at one point and Mingyu was brought up by their mother asking you about the ‘handsome young man’ they met a couple of times; and somehow that alone would be the catalyst that set off a series of events that ultimately left you questioning your entire relationship with Hyunjin later that night.

“So you are definitely not getting back together with him?” Their mother asked at last, once the whole ‘Mingyu lore’, as Yeji called it, had been covered.

“Um…” you hesitated, eyes unconsciously locking with Hyunjin next to you, before you looked for Yeji, who was in front of him. “No, we’re not”.

“Oh, dear” she lamented. “What he did was such a shame, the two of you certainly made a very nice couple”.

“You heard how he turned out to be an asshole, though” Yeji pointed out, taking the words from Hyunjin’s mouth and inevitably having him and Chan nod in silent agreement.

“It’s a good thing you’re moving past him” their father chimed in this time.

You nodded, giving him a gentle smile. You were trying your best, for sure.

“His parents must be devastated” Mrs. Hwang lamented again, bringing your attention back to her.

This time, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, I got along really well with them, but I wouldn’t go as far as to think they’re devastated”.

“Losing a daughter-in-law as beautiful and attentive as you…” she explained, bringing some heat to your cheeks that you tried to play off by taking a sip of water. “The two of you would’ve made such beautiful children”.

The water you were drinking didn’t follow the path down your throat it should’ve at the sound of her statement, and you inevitably ended up choking on it.

“Yah, mum” Hyunjin called her out, gently patting your back as you tried to catch your breath. “Can we not mention children and her ex in the same sentence?”

“Right, sorry” she apologised, handing you a napkin and giving you a soft smile before her eyes focused on her husband; ignoring the way Hyunjin’s hand remained unconsciously drawing small circles on your back until you were able to breathe normally again. “But just imagine if we had that kind of genes in the family”.

“Did she just call us ugly?” Yeji frowned, locking eyes with Hyunjin, who couldn’t help but chuckle instead of acting offended like his sister — in his eyes you were on a whole other level of beauty after all.

“Honestly though, even I feel offended now” Chan butted in. “I don’t recall you wanting my genes this bad”.

“They met you when we were already a couple, she probably would’ve tried to bribe you too otherwise” Yeji let him know with a cynical laugh, having you all follow right after.

“Trust me, she’s already pictured how cute your children will be” Mr. Hwang let the couple know.

“Can we not?” Yeji pleaded with red cheeks this time. Chan, on the other hand, could not let the opportunity to tease her pass, poking her cheek and repeating in a squeaky voice just how cute their kids would be. “Back to the topic of Y/N’s genes, please” she begged.

“Jeez! Thanks, best friend” you ironically said amidst an incredulous laugh, earning a finger heart and an obnoxious smile from her in response.

“My point was,” their mother resumed her previous train of thought. “Now that Y/N’s single, I’m kind of wishing we had an older son. Imagine how beautiful their children would be if she became a Hwang”.

Well, that certainly felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown right at Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin’s right here, though?” Chan pointed out before the youngest could begin to get lost in his —quite angsty— thoughts. “They’re both in their twenties, I’d say there’s hope for Y/N to become a Hwang”.

And maybe, if you weren’t too busy kicking Chan under the table, you would’ve noticed the shy smile curving up Hyunjin’s mouth, as well as his slightly rosy cheeks as he looked down to his still nearly untouched food.

Maybe if Yeji wasn’t too busy laughing at her boyfriend after getting hit and ever so poorly trying to comfort him, she would’ve noticed her brother being all flustered, too.

But, thankfully for him, his parents did. And that was enough for them to nod their heads in silent understanding.

That was the last comment they made about your dating life that afternoon, having no trouble directing the topic once again towards Chan and Yeji’s relationship instead.

You, on the other hand, although had managed to do a pretty good job at following whatever topic was brought up for the rest of the meal, could not seem to let Chan’s comment go.

It was out of place. Way out of it. What did Hyunjin have to do with it anyway? Like, yes, they were talking about you becoming a Hwang and, yes, he was the only son they had, but that didn’t immediately make him an option?

He was three years younger than you. He was only seventeen and still in high school when you met, whereas you were in your second year of university. It felt wrong to even think about it. And it was even worse considering that there was a reason his mum had explicitly mentioned her wish to have an older son instead of pushing you towards Hyunjin right away. It didn’t seem right for them either, as far as you could tell from what had just gone down.

Which is why you couldn’t let it go. Not even after you and Hyunjin got back to your place, like you had agreed to earlier that day when you decided to share a car with Chan and Yeji instead of him, and he wasted no time to secure his much needed alone time with you once you were done at his parents’.

You’d excused yourself to the kitchen to make some popcorn while Hyunjin was comfortably resting on your couch as he looked for any romcom movie to watch while he sipped on the hot chocolate you made as soon as you got home, and you took those few minutes away from him to text Chan and ask for an explanation.

And, God, did you get one.

You re-read the conversation over and over after he went offline, unable to understand where the hell had it all come from.

“He’s 23 now”.

“You may have met when he was 17 but he’s an adult now”.

“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.

“I’m just trying to make you see and actually consider all your choices”.

“Hyunjin is not a little boy anymore”.

Every single text, hitting harder than the other.

Of course he was no longer a little boy. He stopped being one a long time ago, you weren’t stupid. But he was still Hyunjin, Yeji’s little brother. Nothing would ever change that.

You were supposed to care for him just like she did, to be there for him and protect him when the time came. He wasn’t supposed to be ‘a choice’ for you like any other guy could.

He was Hyunjin, the teenage boy who hardly talked to you the weekend you first met and would stutter almost every time he did, and who would so shyly let you and Yeji know dinner was ready whenever you stayed at theirs after that.

Hyunjin, the high school student you’d give some advice regarding the university admission test and applications throughout his last year of it, and whose graduation you attended later on.

Hyunjin, who made it to your university and would constantly ask for your help in his assignments, regardless of him having chosen a completely different major; and who you’d constantly check up on to make sure he was doing okay in his first year of it.

Hyunjin, who held you tight as ever the night Mingyu left you, and refused to go home like Yeji told him it was okay for him to until he was sure you were sound asleep and no longer crying, which didn’t happen until way past four in the morning.

Hyunjin, who would text to check up on you every single day after your breakup, even if it meant getting very short, cold answers from the heartbroken and detached persona that had taken over your body the following weeks.

Hyunjin, who included you in his New Year’s Eve plans and kept you company the entire weekend Yeji and Chan were away.

Hyunjin, who made it known he missed being as close as you once got to be years ago and took the lead to propose picking up where you left off.

Hyunjin, the man who had spent the entire past month making your days better by simply texting or showing up at your place — being there for you even when you didn’t need him to.

Had you really missed how much he was there for you? When was it that the roles reversed and he started to look after you instead?

You jumped when the microwave started beeping, letting you know the popcorn was ready. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you rushed to pour the popcorn into a bowl before making your way back into the living room.

Hyunjin’s head snapped in your direction, unable to hide his smile as soon as he saw you.

You gulped, trying your best to calm your heartbeats down before you took a seat next to him right as he placed the now empty mug on the coffee table. Maybe you should’ve texted Chan later that night, when Hyunjin was back at his place and you wouldn’t have to face him right away after being hit with so many questions.

“I was like one minute away from going over there to see what was taking you so long” he confessed.

“Just making us a small snack” you smiled cutely, shaking the bowl in your hands to make your point.

“I’m pretty sure popcorn takes like three minutes to make in the microwave,” he pointed out, shoving a single one into his mouth. “You took like seven”.

You scoffed in amusement. “Did you set a timer or something?”

“No, but I watched three whole movie trailers,” he admitted, earning a breathy laugh from you. “And that without counting the minutes I spent scrolling through movies to watch. I’d say you took at least ten minutes, actually”.

“Did you miss me that much to actually count the minutes?” You couldn’t help but joke.

“Well, yes” he answered with no hesitation, and no signs of joking either; very unfortunately for your already shaken up heart. “I told you earlier that I hadn’t seen you all week and wanted to spend time with you”.

“We’ve been together nearly all day” you reminded him sweetly.

“Not alone, though” his words made you feel warm inside, like they seemed to be doing a lot lately. “It’s not the same”.

“Sorry,” you pouted, and that was enough for him to melt. “I got kinda caught up texting and… here, I’ll just leave my phone on the table so we’ll just focus on the movie”.

Placing your phone next to his on the coffee table in front, you leaned back against the sofa, tilting your head up towards the TV, so he’d hit ‘play’ and you could get started on your movie night.

When five seconds went by and he didn’t move an inch, you focused your eyes on him instead.

“Hyunie?” You called him, moving your hand in front of him to pull him out of his thoughts and smiling once you did. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, um, I just…” he struggled, having his eyes going back to your phone. “Was it work related? Like, was it… was he…”

“I was talking to Channie” you clarified when you got what was going through his mind. “Don’t be silly now, you really think I’d spend ten minutes of my life texting my ex boyfriend?”

“I mean, you guys have a project together now, so…”

“Still, we can just get it over with by email” you stood your ground. “I only spend that long texting people I actually enjoy talking to”.

He smiled, happy to know you would usually spend that amount of time texting —if not more— and, therefore, he was one of those lucky ones you enjoyed talking to.

Beaming after that realisation, and with the possibility of you talking to your ex out of the way, he grabbed the remote and pointed it to the TV.

“Is this one okay?” He asked, motioning towards the title ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ displayed on it.

You nodded quite effusively. “What are you waiting for, it’s one of my favourites”.

He bit his lip, but not even that was enough to hide the wide smile taking over his face as he leaned back against the couch as well and finally hit ‘play’. Of course he knew you loved that movie. He wasn’t choosing one only he enjoyed after all, and maybe knowing you’d get happy about it was the reason he ended up going with this particular one.

To be fair, he knew he’d spend half of the movie looking at you instead anyway. It was quite cute how you wouldn’t notice, being way too immersed in the plot you must’ve watched a hundred times by now.

Every now and then, he would reach for the popcorn at the same time as you, with the mere intention of his fingers faintly touching yours, but by the third time they touched and he got no reaction from you, he decided he wanted more — having your fingers touch without you noticing was not enough.

So, he slid slightly down the sofa, just enough for his face to be on the same level as yours, and then he rested his head on your shoulder.

That, you noticed. Hyunjin realised by the way your body tensed up under his touch.

And, for a moment there, he considered sitting up and going back to his previous position, hating the thought of his proximity making you feel uncomfortable; but you greatly surprised him by leaning your head on his before he could do so, silently letting him know right then that you did in fact enjoy being this close to him.

In the end, he had nothing to worry about when it came to touching you, for you had made it clear a while ago that it didn’t bother you. But, then again, he wasn’t sure whether you were only enduring it or actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know which touches were okay and which ones were crossing the line. And the thing was, so far, you enjoyed every single kind of physical contact he had tried with you. They were all brief, innocent even, sweet.

Him leaning his head on your shoulder hadn’t made you tense up because he crossed some kind of line, but because, unknown to him, your head was a complete mess right then. Unable to let your previous conversation with Chan go, you were now questioning the meaning behind this small action of his.

“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.

Was this what he meant by that? You and Hyunjin being this kind of close?

This was the first time he rested his head on your shoulder out of all the times you’d been sitting down on your couch just like this, and now you couldn’t tell whether you were overthinking too much because of your friend’s words, or whether you would’ve started overthinking just the same regardless of it.

Yes, he had held your hand before, but it was an act for the hotteok lady not to feel ashamed after thinking the two of you were a couple.

Yes, you had cuddled through the night on this very couch, but it was only because you passed out without either of you noticing.

Every other ‘major’ touch you shared had an excuse behind it. Hyunjin lying his head on your shoulder, however? It didn’t have one. He just felt like it, wanted to be close to you. And ultimately you ended up giving in and resting your head on his simply because you felt like it, too. It felt nice. Regardless of the mess going on in your head, you wanted to be close to him, too.

Was it even an overthinking matter anyway? Friends did this all the time, right? Both you and Chan used to do it a lot before you and Mingyu started dating. You and Yeji still did it a lot, too, up to this day. Why did it suddenly feel different with Hyunjin?

Damn you, Bang Chan. You certainly didn’t need this right now.

Once again, your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. This one was softer than your microwave’s beep, though, more like a buzz coming from one of the phones on the coffee table. Considering your phone wasn’t on silent mode right then, you knew it was Hyunjin’s.

“Your phone just buzzed” you let him know when he wouldn’t budge.

“Leave it” he replied simply, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“What if it’s important?” You wondered.

He sighed, already giving in — as easily as he always did when it came to you. “I’m too comfy, can you pass it to me?”

You nodded in a second, unable to hold back the chuckle that escaped your mouth when you leaned over to grab his phone and he followed your movement, as he refused to lift his head from its comfortable spot on your shoulder.

Just as you were back in your place and about to hand him his phone, though, its screen lit up, letting you see a single message from Dahye.

As soon as you saw it, you panicked, practically shoving the phone into Hyunjin’s hands.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have read that” you apologised, shamefully looking away.

Hyunjin frowned, sitting up in clear alert before he could check what you were talking about. His eyes opened wide once he read Dahye’s text and he immediately realised what it must’ve looked like to you.

It was a simple question: “Are you coming over tonight?”

No hello, no ‘Hyunjinie~’; just straight to the point, which couldn’t help but lead you to wonder whether texts like this and him going over to her place at night were an usual occurrence by now.

Hyunjin had told you all about her at New Year’s Eve. From how they kissed when he was drunk to how she wouldn’t leave him alone even years after it happened. He told you it was one sided, that he was tired of her constant insistence. But then why did that one text from her make it seem like that wasn’t precisely the case?

Unlike him, you hadn’t read Han’s message following Dahye’s, for it had just been delivered when he checked his phone right then. You hadn’t read the one message that gave the whole context to Dahye’s obscure text.

“She means to the pregame,” he was fast to clear up. “Han just texted me and apparently we’re going to a noraebang tonight and pregaming at Haeun’s. Dahye’s staying with her, so…”

You nodded, feeling like you weren’t in the place to say anything. It was his life, after all. He could be with whoever he wanted. He didn’t owe you any explanations. Fuck, did you want any explanations?

You didn’t know if you were feeling embarrassed for reading a text message that was supposed to be private, or if you were upset over the idea that Chan had just planted in your head being tainted not even an hour later.

Maybe you’d been thinking too much over something that wasn’t even there, being influenced by your best friend and what he thought was going on between you and Hyunjin. Maybe it was nothing after all.

But you couldn’t deny that you did feel quite uneasy over her text.

Were you upset that she was talking to him? Were you upset they were possibly hooking up? Was it being about Hyunjin you were upset about? Or were you just upset over how much the scene playing right in front of you resembled the times you’d just started questioning Mingyu’s relationship with Hayun while you were still together?

The times you’d catch the suspicious text messages popping up on his notifications, how nervous he would get and how he would start to throw excuse after excuse for you to believe he had nothing to do with her… You knew this feeling all too well, and you hated that you were feeling it again, with Hyunjin of all people, when you were not even together, you had no feelings for him as far as you knew, and, most importantly, you knew he was nothing like Mingyu at all.

And yet, here you were, feeling the goddamn lump in your throat you had felt one too many times by now because of a guy.

“Y/N?” He brought you back to reality. He looked worried. “I promise it doesn’t mean what it looked like”.

You had to hold back the hopeless laugh that threatened to escape your mouth at the sound of his words.

Words you had heard and decided to let pass way more times than you were proud of, and which brought you right back to the downfall of your last relationship.

You didn’t know which one of your concerns had to do with the trauma of your past relationship and which ones were actually related to the current situation you had just found yourself in.

When did it all stop being about Mingyu and it started being about Hyunjin?

“It’s okay” you gave him the most genuine smile you could give him, to let him know you were alright. Still, he didn’t look convinced. “You should get going, though”.

“I mean it, though” he pushed it when he could tell you weren’t convinced. “You can go through the t—”

“Hyunie,” you cut him off, this time with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay. I believe you”.

Did you?

“But apparently there is a pregame taking place in a bit, so you should get going”.

“You don’t even know at what time it is” he pouted.

“It’s a little past seven right now,” you pointed out, checking the time in your phone. “I’m guessing at seven thirty? Eight at most?”

Looking down to the group chat with his friends and realising you were right, he only made his pout more prominent.

“Am I right?” You wondered with a teasing smirk.

“Yes…” he let out a defeated sigh.

When you laughed triumphantly, he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“I don’t wanna go yet” he mumbled.

“You have to if you wanna make it in time with your friends”.

“I can always just skip pregame” he suggested, then sitting up again and looking at you with a mischievous smile. “Or skip night out as a whole”.

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you scolded him. “You are not pulling a New Year’s Eve stunt on me again”.

“A New Year’s Eve stunt?” He wondered rather amusedly.

“You know, when you said you’d only stay with me until midnight and then ended up not going back to your friends that night” you explained.

“This is different, though. We had plans before”.

“Staying on the couch watching movies with me can’t even compete with going out with your friends”.

“No, you’re right” he nodded. “It can’t compete because staying in with you would win every time”.

“Hyunjin…” you tried your best to sound stern and not melt over his words. “Go”.

“But…”

“I’m not letting you skip yet another night out with your friends because of me”.

“Come with me then?” He asked with puppy eyes.

You were quick to look away, knowing well enough you would fall for his charms otherwise. “I’ll have to pass this time”.

“Is it because of Dahye?” He carefully wondered, taking your following silence as a yes. “We can skip pregame and then I’ll tell my friends to make up some excuse for her not to join us at noraebang”.

“Hyunjin,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t have to do that, just go have fun with them”.

“But I wanna be with you” he pouted once more.

“Hyunie…” it sounded like you were begging by now. “The movie’s about to end anyway”.

“And we were supposed to watch another once once it did” he reminded you, later allowing a taunting smirk to curve up his lips when a certain idea made it to his head. “Are you so set on making me leave right now because you’re afraid you might not want me to leave at all if I stay any longer?”

You snorted, playfully yet gently poking his forehead. “Someone’s gotten a little too cocky, don’t you think?”

“Am I wrong, though?” He pushed it. “Do you really want me to go?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want me to go?” He repeated.

“Your friends—”

“That’s not what I’m asking you” he cut you off. “You have this really bad habit of always avoiding my questions, you know?”

You found yourself lowering your head, feeling oh-so-little under his piercing stare.

Although Hyunjin loved seeing you nervous because of him and it was a very rare occurrence coming from you, right then, he wanted your eyes on him. So, placing two fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back to his eye level — both of you only realising how close you actually were when your eyes met.

“It’s a simple yes or no question” he specified, gently removing a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me to go?”

“No” you answered truthfully this time.

He smiled brightly.

“But—BUT,” you emphasized before he could celebrate, leaning slightly back and lifting your index finger for him to pay attention. “Like I said, I’m not letting you bail on your friends again, there will come a time they’ll get tired of it. You deserve to let loose and have some fun only with them”.

“But we were supposed to hang out today…”

“And we did?”

He frowned, clearly not happy with your answer.

“Come onnn,” you tried your best to convince him. “We’ll hang out again tomorrow anyway”.

“We will?” He perked up instantly, enough to make you feel shy all over again.

“I mean, if you want to, of course…” you corrected yourself. You had really become that used to seeing him both days every weekend now for it to be more of a given, huh?

“I believe it’s pretty clear by now that I always want to hang out with you”.

You tried to hold back a smile — needless to say, your efforts were miserable. “Okay then, we’ll see each other tomorrow”.

“Okay,” he smiled, satisfied with your new plans. “Let’s go out this time, since staying in is too boring for you now”.

“When did I ever say that?!”

“When you said that this,” he motioned around your place. “Wasn’t competition for a night out”.

“That is so not what I meant?” You argued.

“Still,” he laughed, eyes softening when they locked with yours. “I’m taking you out for lunch, okay?”

You smiled timidly, nodding your head. “Let’s see if you’re not too hungover first. Might have to end up taking care of you instead”.

“Now I might get blackout drunk just to have you taking care of me tomorrow”.

You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hide your amusement as you looked away. “Never mind, I will be sending either Yeji or your mum instead”.

“I’m joking, I’m joking” he laughed, looking for your eyes to lock with his again and gently grabbing your hands that were resting on your lap. “I’ll behave. Just let me take you out for lunch tomorrow, hm? Just us two”.

Staring down at your hands in his warm, soft ones, you couldn’t help but get invaded with more questions than answers.

It felt nice… being touched by him felt nice. Being close to him as a whole made you feel all warm inside. And he was right when he joked about you being scared you wouldn’t want him to leave at all if he stayed any longer, because truth was you already didn’t. You wanted him to stay, as close as you were minutes before.

Was it okay for you to be this close? Both physically and also emotionally? To the point of talking every single day and finding a way to see each other more than you saw your own best friends?

Did you enjoy his touch so much because it came from him? Or was it because you missed being touched?

Was he like this with everyone else? With Dahye? Anyone else at all? Did he treat you differently from them? Or was he just a flirty person and what you were now considering to be some kind of special treatment was just him acting the same as he did with every other girl?

Were you beginning to fall for him? Had you really been that oblivious to your own feelings? Or were you just looking too much into it now because of Chan’s influence, and mistaking a platonic —and rather strong— connection for something more?

Would Yeji be okay with it?

Too many questions were invading your mind, one right after the other, and you couldn’t find a single answer to any of them just yet.

However, although you didn’t know what you were feeling and were unsure about what demons were from your past and which ones were new, you did know one thing for sure: You were never as happy as when you were with him.

So, with a soft smile and a nod of your head, pushing any other thought for later tonight when you went to bed, you said the only thing you could answer to his request right then. “Okay”.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Song Inspiration For The Series: You Call It Madness But I Call It Love By Russ Columbo

Series Playlist (Spotify)🥀

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Chapter 6: Batter Up

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me

Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?

Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct

Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are

Chapter 20: You Were There

Chapter 21: Try To Understand

Chapter 22: I May Be Right Or I May Be Crazy

Chapter 23: Extreme Makeover Backyard Edition

Chapter 24: What The Past Held

Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?

Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You

Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

Last Updated: 10/08/2024 (Series Complete)

One Shots:

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose!

[Extras]

Chapter 7.5: The Only Escape (Unused)

Happy Halloween! (Takes Place After Main Series)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated  @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim  @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

 @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

 @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@livya99 @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline @impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he’s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

sick day (next part)

summary: you’re sick and paige looks after you

content warnings: none!

mainly because im sick and dying rn and wish someone would look after me lol 🥲

“You said you had a slight cold, Y/N. This is not a slight cold, you look like death.” Paige says as she looks at you from the end of your bed.

You’re bundled up under your covers shivering and the light Paige just turned on hurts your eyes so you keep them closed, not wanting to worsen your already brain splitting headache.

“It is a cold.” You grumble, your throat hurting with every word.

“Uh huh, that’s why you haven’t moved a muscle since I’ve been stood here, when usually I can’t even make it through the door without you being in my arms.” She says matter of factly and she’s right. Whenever Paige comes over, you’re practically bouncing at the door waiting for her and tackle her into a hug as soon as she comes into sight.

“I’m fine, just tired.” You try and lie but Paige knows you better than that and you know her well enough to know she’s about to challenge you.

“Come here then.” She remarked and you peeled your eyes open, squinting at the bright light to see her stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a knowing look on her face but you was not about to admit defeat.

You begrudgingly flipped the duvet off your body, arms aching at the slightest of movement and you manoeuvre your body to the edge of the bed before bracing yourself to stand. Your legs were weak and wobbly as you took small steps towards Paige and just as you were about to reach her and prove her wrong, your knees buckled beneath you and she lurched forward, catching you in her arms.

“Easy baby, it’s OK, I got you. Let’s get you back to bed.” Paige says, effortlessly hooking one arm under your legs and the other around your back, lifting you off the floor to carry you back to the safe surface of your mattress.

“You’re burning hot too, Y/N. I think you have a fever.” She notes as she lays you back down, the back of her hand coming in contact with your forehead, then your neck and finally your chest.

“But I’m so cold, I can’t get warm.” You mumble, burying yourself back under your duvet trying to stop the shivers taking over your body.

“Definitely a fever. I’ll be back. Stay here.” She tells you, fixing the duvet over your body as you had done a bad job doing it yourself.

“Do you think I can go anywhere?”

“Sick but still got an attitude, that’s my girl.”

You drift in and out of sleep while Paige is gone and your headache only worsens and you hope she comes back soon because you need a drink but you can’t move. Your limbs feel like lead and your head spins at the smallest of movements.

You hear the front door to your apartment open and close and the taps of familiar footsteps walking towards your room and you immediately know it’s your girlfriend and you’re thankful you’re no longer alone because you genuinely feel like you’re dying.

“You’re back.” You whisper and your voice comes out low and weak you barely even recognise it.

“And I brought supplies.” Paige announces and you flutter your eyes open and she’s holding a huge bag, packed full with God knows what.

“Tylenol, DayQuil and NightQuil, Gatorade because you need electrolytes, soup, tissues, herbal tea, oranges for vitamin C, your favourite candy and water because I just know you’ve not been drinking enough.” She reels off what she bought as she lays it out on your bed.

Paige helps you sit up, propping up your pillows behind your back for support. She pops a few pills into her hand and unscrews the cap of a bottle of water, “Open up.” She says and you’re in no position to argue so you open your mouth and she drops the medicine inside before bringing the bottle up to your lips for you to take a sip.

“Thank you.” You croak out and she just shakes her head, “I wish you would have told me you were this bad. I would have been here straight away.”

“I didn’t want to worry you…or being a burden.” You admit and she sits on the edge of the bed, her hands taking yours, “You are not a burden. Far from it. I want to help you get better, just let me.” She practically begs and you could cry. You were so used to looking after yourself and always being the one to take care of others, it felt foreign being on the receiving end of such selfless actions.

“I’m going to make you some tea and soup. You think you can handle that?” She asks, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

“Maybe just the tea?” You suggest not feeling particularly hungry.

“OK, but soup later because you have to eat, Y/N.” She insists before taking the pack of tea to make you a cup.

Paige returns with a huge mug of hot tea and a damp cloth, “For the fever.” She says placing it on your head and even though you feel freezing cold, your teeth are chattering, the cool cloth is a soothing sensation against your burning skin.

You take the tea with shaky hands and immediately take a sip, the hot liquid mellowing out the pains in your throat. Paige positions herself next to you in your bed, tucking herself under your covers. Her body next to yours is comforting after laying alone, sick and suffering for the past twenty four hours.

“I don’t want to get you sick.” You sniffle, weary that whatever illness had attacked your immune system is probably contagious.

“Don’t worry about me baby, let’s focus on getting you better.” Paige replied hooking an arm around your shoulder.

You take a few more sips of tea before placing it down on your beside table, starting to feel tired as if sitting up in bed had taken the last of your diminishing energy.

You shuffle your body down so your practically laying in Paiges lap and her hand falls to your head and she runs her fingers through your hair, repeatedly. Her actions are slow and soft and full of love, you knew you’d be asleep in seconds.

“I’m tired, P.” You mutter, feeling guilty that you were about to fall alseep, leaving your girlfriend nursing you.

“It’s OK, go to sleep baby, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You give into your exhaustion at Paiges words and your eyes fall shut to the feeling of her fingers in your hair, your head on her lap and her scent being the only thing you can smell.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: don’t forget to send me requests if you have any! ily 💋

[daycourtofficial]

Come to Bed

Summary: based on this request - a text from Azriel was meant to go to you, but went to his entire family instead.

Author’s note: I loved this idea this was so fun and definitely very on brand for the inner circle tbh

Az: Come to bed :(

It was a short message. Azriel had been sick for two days now, and since meeting you, he can’t remember how he’d just go on during his sick days.

He used to go to work just fine while sick. He’d wear a mask and keep his distance, but he’d be able to go no problem.

But ever since you came into his life, now he was too spoiled when he was sick to go anywhere or do anything. You had insisted that your cuddles would heal him, along with the various soups you made him eat every day.

Honestly? It was a little awesome. If it weren’t for how shitty he felt, that is. You rubbed his back until he fell asleep, whenever he got up to shower you washed his sheets, and you brought him medicine every few hours. He didn’t have to lift a finger, and he was soaking in every moment of your attention.

But now you were downstairs, talking with Elain about something or another. You had told him what for before you left, but his feverish haze had made him forget. He woke up alone, having dozed off in your absence, and all he wanted was you to come back. He had just texted you to come back to bed when his door creak opens.

Azriel pops his head out of the nest he made to find Cassian crawling up his bed on top of the covers, wrapping his arms around Azriel, and spooning him over the covers.

Azriel coughs, “what are you doing here?”

“You asked for me to come to bed.”

Azriel’s head hurts trying to figure out what he means when his door opens once more to Rhysand strolling through the room, lying on Az’s other side.

“Ah, come on Azzy. It’s just like when we were younger,” Cassian tells him, his body heat helping with the chills taking over Azriel’s body.

Azriel sniffles, “we were like eight years old.”

“Well, Cassian hasn’t matured much since then,” Rhysand chimes in, staying on the bed but not too close to Az. He’ll provide some level of comfort with his presence, but he’ll be damned if he lets his brother get him sick.

“Why are you two here?” Azriel croaks, every word hurting his poor throat.

Rhys opens his phone to show him the family groupchat they had, the last message coming from Azriel saying, “Come to bed :(“

Azriel groans reading it, “I’m sure you could guess I sent it to the wrong person.”

Cassian chuckles, causing vibrations through Azriel’s back. He’s too weak to fight Cassian off of him, and the weight of him actually feels nice. Maybe Cassian would make a great weighted blanket after all.

“I never second guess any texts I receive. I assumed you missed me, it has been days since you’ve seen my glorious face.”

Cassian and Azriel continue bickering while Rhysand watches in amusement.

Mor comes in shortly after, bringing a warm cup of tea for both herself and Azriel, handing one mug to him while lounging across the foot of the bed. The tea soothes his throat, and he hates to admit it, but he does appreciate the presence of his family. He had been quarantined for days, trying to keep to his room as much as possible. He had grown quite accustomed to his big, invasive family. Your company was more than enough, but he did miss Cassian’s daily debriefs of his day.

Feyre comes in, taking residence next to Mor, as Cassian tells them all ridiculous versions of how he managed to destroy that building in the Summer Court. Each tale more ridiculous than the last, with Feyre even adding her own absurd version of events.

“I heard that a dragon flew in and Cassian fought it off with his bare hands and the only damage was that one building!”

Their laughter rings in Az’s ears as he closes his eyes, dozing, but not truly asleep.

You were shocked walking back to Az’s bedroom to find both of his brothers, Feyre, and Mor all lounging in bed with him. Azriel perks up at your figure in the doorway, somehow knowing you were there despite his resting state. His voice crackles from his sore throat, “save me?”

You walk in, squeezing yourself between Rhys and Azriel, and your boyfriend melts in your arms, falling asleep quickly as his family still chatters around you.

The next time Azriel wakes up, it’s dark outside, but he’s still cuddled to your chest.

“Hi sweetheart,” you tell him, setting your book down. He practically purrs at you running your hand through his hair.

“Sleep well?”

He presses his face back into your chest. “I would have slept better if they weren’t all annoying.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss the crown of his head.

“Poor baby with a loving family,” you coo, and he huffs.

“They’re not loving, they’re annoying busybodies. Except Feyre. She hasn’t gotten that bad yet.”

You smile, untangling his hair with your fingers.

“They might be annoying busybodies, but they love you and you love them.”

He squeezes you a little tighter. “I’m sick. I only have so much love to give and it’s all going towards you.”

You laugh, your hand moving down to stroke his back. He relaxes in your embrace, your fingers soothing his clammy skin.

“Okay, you can wait until you’re feeling better to love them again.”

“Deal,” he tells you, eyes growing heavy once more. “Just - don’t tell Cassian. He’ll get upset.”

[blaydie]

ᥫ᭡ Hidden Eyes — “Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.” Jiaoqiu x GN reader.

Word count: 1.8k

Contains: Jiaoqiu x GN reader, fluff, subtle jealousy, protective Jiaoqiu (in a good, non-toxic way!), light teasing, clingy Jiaoqiu, kisses, long cuddles, Jiaoqiu taking care of reader, + more!

Rousing from your slumber with a pounding headache, you sit up in the unfamiliar environment and groan. No matter what you do to recall your previous whereabouts nothing comes to mind. A knitted blanket covers you, and your head is propped against a plush pillow. After batting your lashes a few times to clear the haze cast over your eyes, you are able to make out that you’re inside a living space of some sort. 

Overhearing the shuffling in the other room, Jiaoqiu turns the heat down on the stove and saunters into your view, an apron snugly tied around his slim figure. He greets you with his usual friendly smile, now approaching your resting body. Crouching down, he presses his hand to your forehead, his tail swaying slowly behind. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop over-exhausting yourself?” He feigns disappointment, letting his breath breeze down onto your face.

“I haven’t done anything to be exhausted.” 

“Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.”

“But—”

“I ordered you to stay in bed and you go out on a date the next day. Don’t be ignorant.” He opens his eyes, glaring at you while his lips remain in that pleasant expression. Though his smile seems sweet, his gaze is a threat.

“A date?” You raise a brow, unaware you had gone out with another person, let alone left your house this morning. 

“Hm?” Jiaoqiu cocks his head to the side, tapping his index finger against your cheek. “You don’t remember?”

“No. Who was I—”

“Never mind.” Jiaoqiu drags out his speech, squishing your face before standing up straight. “Your soup should be done!”

Jiaoqiu had always had an unsettling energy around him. Upon meeting him a few months ago, you had noticed his strange behaviour patterns, though no one else did. It may just be in your head; you have a common issue with judging new people in your life too harshly. Trusting a stranger takes a lot of effort, but since becoming acquainted with Moze, you realise that the image you crafted of Jiaoqiu may be a spout of nonsense. He has nothing bad to say about him, he praises his work ethic and commitment. For someone who always presents himself so content, there must be some facade in place.

It didn’t take long for you to become friends with both men. They were welcoming and extremely kind; even Feixiao had surprised you with her demeanour behind closed doors. Knowing you have a group of people to fall back on when things get rocky is reassuring. Having a person like Jiaoqiu in your life is a bigger benefit than it is a drawback. Your health is his main concern, making it clear that it should always be your priority above all else. It’s a topic he doesn’t deal with lightly. 

With the steaming bowl of soup in hand, Jiaoqiu returns to his living space and kneels beside you. When you went to free your arms from the swaddle you’re in, he held you down, shaking his head. Raising the soup spoon, he brings it towards your lips, waiting for an opening. 

“I’ll do this since you can’t follow simple instructions.” His tone was snappy, his ears flopping down while he rubbed the spoon against your closed lips. The smell of the soup was enticing, prepared to the standard of all of his other meals. 

“I can feed—”

When you opened your mouth wide enough, he inserted the spoon and dumped the liquid in, grinning at you when you swallowed it. Since you are too tired to protest, you accept defeat and comply with his demands, drinking the soup as he feeds it to you.

“Is it tasty?” Jiaoqiu rubs his thumb over the small spill travelling down your jaw, licking the remnants from his fingers.

“It’s nice. You already know that.”

“The chef appreciates your compliments.” Jiaoqiu hums, stroking your face with two fingers.

Whether it be the heat of the soup or the tenderness in his touch, you felt yourself becoming warm. You began squirming under the blanket, the bowl of soup almost empty. After the final few spoonfuls, he places the leftovers on the coffee table and takes you into his arms. You whine, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I know. You’ll be in bed soon.” He speaks quietly, trekking up the stairs and pushing his bedroom door open with his back.

Lowering you carefully, he lies you on the mattress and covers you over with the duvet. Undoing the bow on his apron, he tosses it into the laundry basket and climbs in beside you. Dragging you over, he wraps an arm around you and holds you in his embrace, his tail brushing up and down your leg in a soothing motion.

“Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you. We’ll see how you are in the morning.” His lips are pressed against your neck when he talks, the movement almost feeling as though he is pampering you with tender kisses. Perhaps he was, but you don’t feel the need to raise attention to it when it feels so good. Within seconds, you fall back into a deep slumber. 

With your droopy head hanging low, he supports you with an arm and wraps himself around you, burying his nose into your flesh. Jiaoqiu loved your scent. It bothers him when you’re away for too long, always lingering on his mind. No matter what he does to replicate it, he can’t craft it to perfection. Burning different candles, sniffing perfumes you use—anything he could think of led to failure. It would explain why he’s been lingering around for longer than he would usually. 

While his recent observations have been unknown to you, it grew increasingly harder for him to leave you alone. He would never want to scare you by admitting all of this—none of his actions carry ill intent. He simply believes you wouldn’t understand his reasoning due to you being human.

It was when you were at the food market that he noticed a shift in your scent. A smell of death. The day prior, you had received a rough blow to the head in battle which had left you tremendously dizzy. It took you two hours to stand, and even then you were still clinging onto his clothes for support. He gave you medicine and advice which seemed to go in one ear and slip out of the other. While with the dark-haired man who was accompanying you, you stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground before he could catch you. That’s when Jiaoqiu decided to reveal himself from the shadows and usher you back to safety.

That barely present beat of your pulse was something he’ll never forget. He should’ve known you wouldn’t take your medicine; you’re usually one to forget things like that. You were ice cold in his arms, fingernails darkening to an almost navy shade. Seeing corpses was not uncommon, but seeing your corpse was something he knew he wouldn't be able to handle. He just wishes that you’d listen to him. While he’s not angry at you, it still upsets him that you disregard your health so easily like that. The warmth you radiate now brings him comfort; he keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, waiting there as time ticks throughout the evening.

Unsure of how many hours have gone by, you stretch out your legs and reach to rub your eyes, only to find another hand with its fingers linked between yours. Jiaoqiu’s soft breathing was directly down your ear, his hand squeezing yours as he mumbled something barely audible. You knew Jiaoqiu was touchy, but the position you found yourself in made you flustered. 

“Morning…” He whispers, kissing the side of your face. His voice was raspy and his tail was still brushing against your skin.

“How long was I out?”

“Nearly eight hours. You slept through the entire night.” Even though you’re conversing, he doesn’t release you from the cuddle he trapped you in.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“To you? Yesterday?”

“Yes. Why am I here?”

“Mm, I saw you unconscious at the food market. Your dark-haired friend didn’t know what to do with you, so I told him I’d handle it.”

“Dan Heng?”

“How could I forget?” Jiaoqiu responds, his voice laced with sarcasm while he pulls you close. “I’ve heard a lot of that name from you.”

“Well, he—”

“I wasn’t asking to hear more.” Jiaoqiu nips you with his canines, earning a small yelp. “What I want to know is why you didn’t take your medicine. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I was going to take it when I got back home from shopping…”

“No. You take it at the time I tell you to. There are reasons behind it.”

“Did I make you mad?”

“I’m not angry; I was worried about you. I’m tired of seeing you push yourself to the side. You’re just as important as anyone else in your life. Other people can wait when you need to put your health first.”

His chest falls as he exhales, hurling you upwards to rest his lips on the top of your head. 

“All I want you to do is listen. I’m not yelling at you.”

“I’ll listen. I promise.” You smile at him, watching as he closes his eyes from the relief of hearing those words. “You’re awfully clingy today.”

“I can’t help it. You made me sick with nerves; my emotions are not behaving as they should be.”

“Besides…” Jiaoqiu trails off, redirecting the topic of conversation. “If you’re going out for food, just come to me instead. I have the superior options.”

“You just want me to be around you so you can make sure I’m okay.”

“Is that such a bad thing? I thought you’d appreciate the fact I care for your well-being. And for your knowledge,” Jiaoqiu leans his face closer to yours, “I would’ve caught you before you hit the ground. Foxian reflexes are like no other.”

He pouts before connecting his lips with yours, sharing a brief peck momentarily until he backs off. His thumb rubs under your lower lip, his eyes widening as he sees your smile grow. Repositioning himself, he pushes down on you and engulfs you in his desire with another kiss.

It was both fiery and packed with raw emotion, his trembling hand stroking your cheek. You have no idea about the amount of dire situations you wind up in, but those near-death moments are something that will forever haunt him. As the kiss breaks, you feel his tail batting against your leg rapidly, his ears twitching from thrill. 

“I have some more medical advice. Are you going to listen to it this time?”

“Tell me.”

“Based on my judgement, I think it would be best if you stayed here and got proper rest for the next few days. Cancel your plans and let me take care of you. You’ll be better before you know it.”

“You cancel for me.” You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, “Hearing a doctor’s note directly from the source would cut the hassle.”

[absfawn]

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who takes care of you to the best of her capabilities when she wakes up one day to find you with hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, constantly sniffling and wiping your nose with an endless stream of tissues, looking at her on the verge of bursting into tears. she knows you hate getting sick. knows that you feel completely useless when you get in that much pain, you can’t move. it takes her over 30 minutes to even get out of bed, each time, when you fall ill. clinging onto her arm, weakly mumbling not to leave into her shoulder, and while she doesn’t want to, she has to, to be able to get everything you need. always leaning down and kissing your forehead, leaving her lips resting against your skin for a couple more seconds, frowning at the obvious rise in temperature on your forehead, blatantly ignoring your whines about her needing to stay away from you for a few days until you get better. simply getting out of bed with a grumbled “you being sick won’t stop me kissing you, now, shut up and wait here” knowing damn well you can’t exactly get up. 

౨ৎ tender and careful abby who spends almost a full hour in the kitchen making you some honey tea and soup, soup that she knows you don’t normally eat when you’re not sick, but will eat gracefully when you are. her body moves quickly as she reaches over the counter and grabs one of the lap trays she bought for you the last time you had gotten sick, and carefully places the bowl of hot soup with the tea gently, not scolding herself in the process. something she does quite a lot. eyeing up the candy drawer, abby looked back over at the bedroom door, back to the drawer, and dropped her head between her shoulders slightly. it wasn’t that you weren’t allowed chocolate, you were and abby knew that. but it always made her feel worse because when you got colds, or sick in general, you couldn’t taste the food, and sweet treats like you could, but regardless, your girlfriend shrugged, opened the drawer and snatched a few bars of chocolate, and a bag of candy before placing them on the tray too. 

you were still slumped under the covers and blankets when abby appeared in the bedroom. finally. the messy bun she let you do last night, won’t admit she loved it, but you know, now even more messy. strands of hair stuck to her now sweaty forehead, this is what rushing around to make sure her girl has everything does to her.

wiggling her eyebrows at you when she makes her way to the side of the bed, places the tray on the nightstand, and carefully places the back of her hand on your forehead, pulling it away instantly when she feels just how high your temperature has gone up since she left. “s’not good baby, we need to bring it down, yeah?” she mumbled, handing you the mug of tea carefully. “drink that, then eat your soup. i brought you some chocolate, and before you say anything, yes i know you can’t taste it when you’re sick, but it’s there in case” abby trailed off, waving her hands everywhere while you simply giggled behind the mug of honey tea.

“thank you, abs. always taking care of me” you whispered, almost like a secret between you both.

“it’s my job, yeah? and you always take care of me when i get sick. we take care of each other.” the blonde smiled, holding out yet another item towards you.

a damp washcloth.

“what’s this for?” you grumbled, looking at the wet cloth like it personally offended you. taking it from her hands carefully, placing it on your forehead nonetheless, and sniffling quietly.

“for your temperature, you’re too hot” abby laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“you told me that 3 days ago” 

“well, you’re hotter today because you’re sick”

“so you’re telling me i’m not hot when i’m not sick?”

“baby, love of my life,” abby paused to laugh again and shake her head at you. “you are always hot”

“even now?”

“yes, even now. very hot, especially with your blocked nose and wheezy coughs. s’cute when you suddenly sound like a cute duck” your girlfriend winked, disappearing into the bathroom before you could blink. 

quickly gasping in realization at her choice of words.

“abigail anderson, you did not just refer to my coughing as a duck!” 

“i love you!” she laughed from the bathroom.

“yeah, yeah. i love you too” you couldn’t help but smile.

tender and careful abby always being there to take care of you.

[bunnywonyo]

I THINK I READ THE WRONG PINOCCHIO

g!p puppet yujin x toy maker’s daughter! reader

synopsis: classic puppet becomes a human but instead of going out to get swallowed by a whale, this puppet fuck their toy maker’s daughter.

word count: 1.8k

tags: agalmatophilia, smut

growing up with your father, you grew to also love the toys he made. from the wooden dolls to the mini animal sculptures that he himself carved. but your favorite type of toys that your father has made were the puppets.

the puppets, there was something about them that has drawn you. it might be their realistic faces or their names or even the fact that they kept you company whenever your father goes out of town to buy toy making materials. this day is another one of those occasions when your father will be gone for a few days to buy materials.

“it won’t take long y/n, i’ll be back in no time. now you be careful here, ok? you know where our food is kept right? i also asked our neighbors to occasionally check up on you, if you run into any trouble just yell for them. also, don’t for to lock the— ”

“i know dad, we go through this every two months since i can remember, i’m already used to it by now.”

“i know, but your old man just can’t help himself. i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“It’s ok dad besides like you said the neighbors are here plus the puppets keep me company!”

"alright, but promise me you'll be careful," he added, hugging you tightly before grabbing his travel bag.

"i promise, dad," you said with a smile, hoping to reassure him. You slammed the door behind him and turned to face the room full of his works.

you approached the shelf, where the puppets were carefully placed, each with its own unique personality. there was wonyoung, the elegant princess; kazuha, the graceful ballerina; and giselle, the trendy fashionista. however, one puppet struck you the most: yujin, a mysterious puppet with hauntingly gorgeous eyes and a face that was both feminine and masculine.

yujin was by far your favorite among the countless puppets that your father has created. the way her face was sculpted to perfection, those dark brown eyes that seem to be alive, and the way her skin looks so soft despite being made of wood. her unexpected appendage down there was also a bonus(your father explained that yujin was supposed to be a boy but later changed his decision).

you reached out and picked up yujin, feeling a sense of comfort rush over you while holding her in your hands.

as the day passed by, you always had yujin by your side. whether it was to feed the chickens or to bring in the clothes that were set to dry. there was something about her that drew you in, something that, unlike everyone else, gave you the impression that you in some way, were understood.

before long, darkness fell and you had to remain indoors with your puppet companion, even though you have kind neighbors all around you, you never know when danger is around.

after making sure that you’ve locked all possible entrances, you’ve decided to light a few candles and turned on the kitchen light, creating a cozy, warm atmosphere. you then decided to cook some warm vegetable soup. the comforting aroma soon spread out through the whole house making you hum in delight.

once in a while you would glance at yujin who you propped by the dining table. the gentle flicker of the candles danced across yujin's face, giving the puppet an almost lifelike appearance. time passed by and you were soon done cooking. you prepped up the table and got all the necessary utensils to finally eat.

“yujin!! dinner’s ready!” you yelled even though you knew she was a puppet.

‘damn i must be going crazy’

sitting down, you took a sip of the soup, moaning in delight at the taste.

“you know yujin,” you started. “with you here, it doesn’t really feel lonely at all”

the puppet, unresponsive, just sat there yet her wooden eyes somehow looked like they were focused and listening intently to you.

shaking your head, you continued “i wish you were alive yuj, oh the stories i could tell you and the things we could do together.”

“you could walk independently, you could taste my cooking, you could……you could feel love—my love” you lighty ranted

but what you didn’t know was this simple wish of yours could lead to you getting any sleep at all tonight wink wink

after finishing dinner, you cleaned up the dining room and kitchen and also put away the leftovers. you did your nightly routines before putting yujin beside you in your bed.

“goodnight yuj” you say before kissing her on the lips and turning off the lights. you glanced at her one more time before closing your eyes as your consciousness drifts off to dreamland

“y/n”

“psst y/n”

“y/n wake up”

rubbing your eyes, you groaned in annoyance as your sweet slumber was interrupted.

“who is it? what happened? is the kitchen burning?” you asked but you were only answered by the sound of someone giggling.

“who the—WHAT THE FUCK!” you began to talk, but your words were cut short when you lost your balance.

falling off the bed with a bang, you landed on the floor in a tangle of bedding and limb. the force of the fall jolted you completely awake, and you sat up, scratching your head and looking around in confusion. as you struggled to get your bearings, you noticed Yujin sitting up on the bed, her eyes wide with concern. except yujin was no longer a puppet; she was fully alive, with human-like features and a concerned look.

"are you okay?" yujin asked, her voice quiet but filled with concern.

you blinked, trying to fully take in what you were seeing. "yujin? how... how are you alive?" you gasped, looking at her with surprise.

yujin looked down at herself, then back at you, equally bewildered. "i don't know," she said, shaking her head slightly. "one moment i was a puppet, and the next... i'm like this."

you stood up still trying to take in the whole situation when she spoke up again

“y/n i think it might be the kiss” she said

“the kiss?” you repeat feeling your cheeks flush as you remembered what you did a while ago

“yeah the kiss, it might’ve been some kind of magic” she explained while standing up, her tall figure towering over you.

as everything sank in, you realized how close yujin was standing in front of you. you stared at her and you could see her staring back at you. slowly, like a dream, you both leaned in. your breaths mingled, your eyes locked, and suddenly, as if driven by an invisible force, your lips touched in a soft, long kiss. it was delicate at first, but soon turned rough.

yujin placed her hands on your shoulders and deepened the kiss, her lips soft and warm on yours. your heart raced in your chest, and you felt yourself melting into the moment. before you knew it, yujin has already pushed you back to your bed, her body hovering over you.

the two of you locking lips for a while before you broke the kiss “i can’t believe this is real,” you gasped “i’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time now.”

yujin smirks, hands squeezing your ass before replying, “me too princess, ever since i became conscious.”

you blush at the nickname before feeling something hard press against your thigh.

“yujin is this?..........” you trailed off, pertaining to the ‘thing’ poking your thigh.

“it’s exactly what you think it is princess” her smirk still there, her hand now rubbing your crotch. “i know you want this too.”

“let me take care of you” she whispered, her voice dropping an octave.

you nod in response, heart beating rapidly in anticipation. yujin’s hand moved smoothly across your bodies, slowly undressing the two you. your body shivered at the cold air when she finally finished undressing you. yujin stared at your body with a predatory gaze causing you to cover yourself with your arms. she chuckles at your attempt to cover yourself before grabbing your arms, preventing you from further trying to.

“don’t cover your body princess, your beautiful” she says as she leans to your neck, gently nipping it making you blush

with the two of you now bare, you could finally properly her length. if you had to guess, it was around 8 inches and it was quite girthy. it was veiny and had a huge prominent vein stemming from the base to the underside of the tip.

yujin positioned herself between you, looking into your eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. seeing none, she guided her length to your core.

she penetrated you with a slow, deliberate thrust, and you yelped in pleasure. yujin stopped, giving you a moment to adjust, her gaze never leaving yours. "are you okay?" she said softly, her voice full of worry and love.

"yes," you whispered, your body craving more. "please, yujin... don't stop."

with your consent, yujin starts thrusting. each thrust harder and faster than the last one, this lead to you being a moaning and panting mess.

“you like that?” she pants, sweat running down her cheeks. “you like it when i turn you into a moaning mess?”

“yes!” you gasped. “i…–ahhh love it yujin! harder please i–ahhh want more.”

hearing this, yujin smirks before gripping your hips as she increases her pace, her eyes locked straight into yours. her gaze making you feel small.

"you're mine," she whispered, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "and i'm gonna make you feel so good."

her words drove you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. you screamed out her name, your nails clawing her back, pulling her closer as your climax came.

yujin continued to thrust into you, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her release. when she finally reached it, her body tightened, a loud, guttural cry from her lips as she gushed inside you, filling you entirely.

for a few moments, you both lay there, tangled together, your breaths mingling as you came down from your high. yujin brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her gaze softening with affection that made your heart flutter.

“i know we might be going a bit too fast but i love you y/n.” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

you blush at her words before replying “it’s okay yuj, we’re in this together” you cup her cheeks. “and i love you too.”

yujin smiles at your words, leaning in to kiss you. “i’m gonna cherish this chance of being alive to prove to you how much i love you.” she promises.

you held her close, experiencing an overwhelming feeling of completeness and happiness you had never had before. the two of leaned in for one last before getting settled in bed to sleep.

“............”

“hey y/n?”

“hmm?”

“i think i’m getting hard again”

oh boy……..

[supernovafics]

eddie has a crush on you

wc: 683

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

eddie has a crush on you, and it’s become blatantly obvious to everyone except you. 

only days after he met you at the hideout when robin introduced you both, he made you a mixtape. you had half-mentioned that you wanted to get into new music and eddie ran with that information, putting the tape together in just one night and then giving it to robin to give to you since she saw you more often. 

the next time you saw him at some group hangout at steve’s house, you told him that you really liked the songs he put on the mixtape and his heart nearly exploded out of his chest. he happily smiled and rambled on and on about some of the specific songs you said you liked, recommending you more songs from the artist and promising that he’d bring you their full album or just make you another mixtape altogether. 

that was when everyone saw it, how much he obviously liked you. but, you didn’t. 

you saw everything he did for you as just a simple friendly gesture, which was great in your eyes because you wanted more friends in this small town that you moved to only a few months ago.

when he was the only one that would come with you to see some new horror movie at the theater, or when he showed up during your quiet shifts at the bookstore and stayed for a few hours just to keep you company, you simply felt lucky to have him as a friend. 

robin was the only one to tell you differently, though. 

“oh, come on. he’s looked like a little puppy pining after you these past few weeks. i can’t believe you don’t see it.”

you laughed at her words. “you’re insane.”

“no, i’m right,” she said and you only shook your head in response, another laugh falling from your lips because you still couldn’t really believe it. 

that changed only a week later, when you got sick and robin told eddie, and then he showed up to your place armed with chicken noodle soup, cough syrup, and a few movies that you had mentioned to him one time that you really liked. 

“you made this yourself?” you asked as you poured the soup out of its tupperware and into a bowl. 

he smiled sheepishly at you as he nodded. “yeah… it actually wasn’t that hard, though. this lady at the grocery store helped me get the ingredients and then basically wrote down the instructions for me too.”

you gave him a small smile. “thank you.”

you looked down at the bowl of soup. him making it was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for you, and that was when you finally knew. it was also when you realized how you felt too. 

you both settled on your couch after you ate the soup. one of the movies eddie brought over was playing in front of you and your head was against his shoulder because the cough syrup was making you a little sleepy. 

“eddie,” you said with a sniffle maybe halfway through the movie and turned your head to look at him. there was something about the drowsiness of the medicine that made you feel a little bold in that moment. “do you like me? like, more than just as a friend?”

how red his cheeks got at your questions told you everything you needed to know, but he still gave you a flustered response. “oh, um, yeah. yeah, i do… but, i completely understand if you don’t and—”

you cut him off with a quick shake of your head and you gave him a small smile. “no, it’s okay. i like you too.”

the immediate elated grin that broke out on his face at your words made you want to kiss him, but you refrained from doing so because you didn’t want to make him sick too; you were also too tired. 

“oh. nice. cool,” he said, trying to act normal about it all but was still smiling widely. 

you laughed a bit. “cool.”

[nightxcreature]

Hot-Blooded

Summary: Reader gets into a potion unknowingly that causes her deepest desires to rise to the surface.

A/N: @jacklesversebingo entry for the prompt "Love Potion", I took this in the direction of Love😏Potion so I hope you enjoy! This is the longest fic I've written since being back, over 1700 words!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Spicy language, Drinking, Ingesting a love potion without prior knowledge, smutty insinuation, cursing

Part Two

18+ ONLY

Music blasts from the small speaker on the counter as I whiz around the kitchen, spoon in one hand and drink the other, on a mission to finish dinner before the boys make it home. They had left on a hunt with Rowena earlier in the day, what should’ve been an easy salt and burn turned into something bigger and, while they would’ve rather enlisted the help of literally anyone else, the only person with a solution was the red-haired mother of the king of hell. I jump at the sound of the bunkers door slamming open and stick my head around the corner, the sound of heavy boots thudding against the stairs telling me that they’re right on time.

                “Good timing!” I yell as I hear them nearing the entrance to the kitchen, “I’m almost done!”

                “Good, I’m pretty sure my stomach ate itself 60 miles ago.” Dean grumbles as he turns the corner into the room, his deep voice pulls my attention from the pot in front of me. My breath hitches as we make eye contact. I almost drop the spoon from my hand at the want that fills my body. He always looks good, but today…he looks really good. His green eyes are somehow greener, the freckles scattered across his face more prominent, and his hair is tousled just enough to bring the filthiest of thoughts to my mind. He raises a brow at my staring and smirks a little, “You alright, Sweetheart?”

                I quickly clear my throat and nod, turning back to the stove to take a couple deep breaths, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I shake my head and turn down the stove eye as Sam and Rowena make their way into the room.

                “Smells great. Thanks for this.” Sam says as he reaches for the bowls in the cabinet above me, “We’re all starving.”

                I smile and nod, “No problem. I knew you’d all be hungry, it’s the least I could do.” I slide out of his way and head toward the table. My eyes immediately find Dean again as I make my way across the room. He’s removing the flannel covering his T-shirt and I can’t help the way my gaze rakes over his body. The way his broad shoulders look in that shirt should be illegal, the fabric stretching across his chest as if its very fibers were made specifically for him. He throws the flannel across the back of his chair and turns to grab a bowl from Sam, allowing my gaze to fall to his hips. Thoughts of my head between his legs and his hand in my hair cross my mind in graphic detail and I have to force myself to look at anything else. I’m practically drooling when Rowena catches my eye and raises her eyebrows in question as a blush rushes my cheeks. I fix my eyes on the table and grab a seat near the door in case I need to make a quick escape.

                Rowena takes the seat beside me and smiles sweetly, “You look a little flushed, Dear.”

                “I’ve been drinking.” I mumble back and pray she’ll drop it; embarrassment rises in my chest at being caught ogling one of my best friends. Of course, I’ve noticed that Dean’s attractive before, what woman wouldn’t? But I’ve never thirsted after him like a pre-teen seeing boobs for the first time, and I would rather not be called out on it in front of him.

                Rowena nods, pursing her lips and smiling in thanks as Sam places a bowl in front her, “I see.” She whispers, “And what, pray tell, have you been drinking?”

                I look at her quizzically, a frown forming on my face, “Uh, my usual stuff. Tito’s and Sprite, why?”

                She hums, taking a slow sip of the soup on her spoon before smiling sweetly again, “I may decide I need a drink soon, too.”

                “Uh, okay.” I reply, grabbing my own spoon and digging in.

                The chatter around the table is minimal as we eat, and, in my boredom, I catch myself staring at Dean again. His thick fingers are wrapped around the spoon loosely, his lips slurping the soup off the utensil lazily. My mind rushes to picturing his hands wrapped around my hips as his lips lazily move across my skin, his name a whisper on my own. I can practically see it happening in my mind’s eye, the wetness pooling below me becoming more apparent to me the longer I stare. My gaze slowly travels from his lips to his eyes, which are already schooled on me curiously and I can’t decide if the blush heating my cheeks is from being caught again or from the filthy thoughts running rampant through me.

                “Darlin’, seriously, are you okay?” He asks again, dropping the spoon into his empty bowl, “You’ve been staring at me since I walked in.”

                “Uh, yeah. I-I’m fine, I think.” I stutter out, shifting my gaze from his face to the food before me, “Just, uh, just got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

                Rowena lets out a chuckle at that causing the three of us to glance at her again, “Tell me, Dear, did you happen to pay attention when I was telling you about leaving some…supplies in your freezer?”

                I nod, “Yeah, you said you left them on the top shelf by my bottle and not to touch them.”

                She smiles again, “And did you happen to see what my supplies were stored in?”

                I shake my head, furrowing my brows and nodding toward my drink, “I wasn’t worried about what witchy-woo you brought in here. I was worried about getting buzzed while I cooked dinner.”

                She laughs again, louder this time, and stands to slink over to the freezer. My mouth drops when she pulls out two identical bottles of Tito’s, a mischievous smile on her face, “Can you tell me which is yours?”

                “Are you kidding me?”  I blurt out, "Why would you put your supplies in a bottle of Tito's? What the hell did I drink?”

                "It's inconspicuous," The smile remains on her face as she speaks, “Are you feeling a little overwhelmed, Dear?”

                A huff leaves me before Dean butts in, “Stop toying with her, Rowena. What’s in that bottle?”

                She turns her mischievous smile to him and winks, “It’s not me that’s toying with her, Mr. Winchester.”

                “Yeah, if you weren’t so damn pretty, I wouldn’t be in this mess! You should stop toying with me.” I grumbled, immediately snapping my mouth shut and staring wide-eyed at him.

                He jars back and glances between Rowena and I. Raising a hand, he points in my direction and then back to himself before smiling at the embarrassed look on my face. I fix my stare at the floor, feeling as if the blush on my cheeks is a permanent fixture there.

                Sam lets out a little laugh, “A love potion, right? Why were you keeping that in our freezer?”

                Rowena scowls and raises her bottle a bit, “Well, yes and no. It’s a love potion." She makes a pointed look toward me, "It brings primal urges to the surface for the one you truly care for. And, not that it’s any business of yours, Samuel, this was supposed to be shared with the Archangel…if he chose to make an appearance while I’m here.”

                I grimace and glance up at her, “That shit was for Gabriel?”

                She smiles softly and gazes at the bottle longingly, “Just to spice things up.”

                “Okay…” Sam mumbles, “And how long until this stuff wears off?” He asks quickly, giving me a worried look.

I’m trying my hardest to keep my gaze from Dean but losing the battle. His furrowed brows and hard jaw leave my wandering thoughts to conjure up plenty of other reasons he could be making that face, reasons that I could provide if he’d give me the chance. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and sigh, the thought of his body on mine overtaking whatever willpower I thought I had left. The heat between my legs is almost unbearable as I rub my thighs together under the table. What the hell did she put in that bottle?

Dean pulls his eyes from Rowena’s at the sound of my sigh, and glances between Sam and me, chuckling awkwardly, “Not that I don’t enjoy the ‘fuck me’ eye’s you’re giving me, Darlin’, I’ll have to agree with Sammy. We need to know how to fix you.”

“I can think of a few ways to fix me…” I mumble, looking up at him through my lashes and quirking an eyebrow, “It’s actually all I’ve been thinking about since you walked in.”

He chokes up a little on the beer he’s sipping and glances at Rowena, “What the hell is in that bottle?”

“Enough to keep Gabriel and I going for days, so if she wants to get over this she’ll need to sleep it off,” She states before giving Dean a small smile, “Unless you’d like to help with her little predicament…I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

A blush rises in his cheeks as she speaks and he turns to face me, “Listen, uh, don’t get me wrong here, I’ve thought about this before. A lot actually…” He gruffly whispers across the table, sending Sam an apologetic glance, “But, uh, I’d really rather do this when you’re of…uh, sound mind?”

“You’ve thought about this before?” I mutter, raising my eyebrows and smirking, “How often? Wait, don’t answer that…that’s the potion talking…I think.”

“Stop talking.” Sam groans, running a hand down his face, “Please stop talking.”

Dean glances nervously around, a blush across his cheeks again, “We can talk about it later.”

Rowena chuckles again and pats his shoulder, “Someone should tuck her in before she say’s something she’ll regret.”

I nod quickly, and turn to Sam, “I’m very sorry, but could you walk me to my room before I fuck your brothers brains out on this table.”

He grimaces and stands, turning to Rowena and pointing toward the bottle, “Keep that in your own freezer next time.”

“Or leave it here…” Dean mumbles, smirking at me as Sam pushes me out the door, “Sleep tight, Darlin’. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.” He winks and I outwardly groan, my bottom lip jutting out as Sam continues to drag me down the hallway.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: I have an idea for a smutty part two, if you'd be interested? Please comment and let me know!

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @enigmalynne @envysarchive @k-slla

If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know!

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (3)

Following Instincts

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 4,279

Work count for Story: 12,632

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, and Cultural differences.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Outside the break room, Yoongi is in Alpha space, catching your scent of sweet peas as it changes into a moldy pea soup smell after the comment from the redheaded playmate. Turning with a low and threatening growl, Yoongi’s eyes have gone to his hybrid's bright golden-yellow cat eyes as he blocks you from their sight. Zeroing in on the playmates, tail raised and puffed out, tip twitching back and forth with a snap of irritation, making them all step back and quiet down.

Hearing you murmur something in his native tongue and then the frantic footsteps, Yoongi snaps his head to watch your fleeing form disappear into a room down the hall. Taking a quick look back at the playmates, office staff, and then his pack, Yoongi huffs and quickly follows you, unable to fight his Alpha instincts.

The rest of the BTS packmates follow their bonded one closely behind as they feel his need to protect you from the others in the office. Namjoon catches Yoongi by the shoulder, stopping him from attempting to enter the room where you sought refuge. The rest of the pack forms a barricade around their Prime Alpha and packmate, who has entered Alpha space. They all are standing on guard, facing the rest of the people in the office, watching closely for any danger, and keeping the rude humans away. 

“Yoongi-hyung, you need to give her space. Remember, she is human and might get scared of Alpha Yoon. What is happening? I need you to get enough control to explain what is happening?” Namjoon calmly speaks to his older packmate. Pushing out calming scents, trying to bring him out of his Alpha space with soothing strokes along his shoulder and back. “Can you come back and explain why you are protecting Miss Y/n?”

Barreling into the front of the group of observers with his tail bushed out and scent smelling slightly panicked and concerned, Derek comes up to the defensive line of BTS, “You have to let me get to her. You have to let me help calm down Y/n. Can’t you scent her distress? She is not doing okay by herself. You can even smell her over the scent-blockers!  I am the closest thing she has to a family. Please let me in to make sure she is okay. Please.”

One of Yoongi’s black jaguar ears twitch back, hearing the urgency in Derek’s voice. He looks at Namjoon, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he turns to Derek with normal dark eyes, taking in his shifty behaviors and now partly distressed scent. 

Shaking his head slowly to Namjoon, Yoongi steps between his packmates and face-to-face Derek. “You are the closest thing to her family?”

“Yes, she and I were hired together when they decided to start this branch. We work together and spend time together at my den or her apartment. I do my best to protect her from situations like this because of her past,” Derek shares with a furrowed brow. Then he glares at the snobby-faced Playmates and says, “I normally try to keep her away from the Playmates in general so things like this do not happen.” 

“She is only here today because there was no convincing her otherwise. Since in the meeting yesterday with your manager and what was said on the phone, she thought it would be disrespectful if she were not in attendance,” explains the fidgety hybrid.

Looking Yoongi in the eye, he continues, “She was bullied a lot before, and while it is not something that is okay, unfortunately, it still happens to this day. I really tried but I couldn’t do anything to keep her away. She had to be here even with little to no sleep because of her nightmares.”

Bowing slightly but keeping an eye on the pack, Derek demandingly pleads, “Now, please, Mr. Min, please let me pass. Everyone can smell that something has happened. I think she is hurt in more ways than one.”  

The last comment got the attention of the whole pack on him, and everyone looked concerned. Several eyes flashed as their hybrid halves showed their displeasure with the news. Yoongi continued to fight his Alpha instincts with a deep growl and even breaths.

“How can you tell?” Namjoon asks from next to the door. He can smell the scent left in as you ran through the hall, but it tells him nothing for a few reasons: 1. He has never smelt Y/n and 2. Not all scents are pleasant to start with.

“That moldy smell, like veggies gone bad?” inquired Derek, watching the pack of hybrids start sniffing, searching for the smell, and scrunching their noses once it hits. “That is why I know something is not right. Y/n, her scent turns like that when she is hurt. I am not sure if it is just emotional. It could be physical, too. I can’t tell how bad it is because the scent-blocking measures she took for your arrival are still dulling it down.  Now again. Let me in to help my friend. I may be a Beta but she is a pack member and I will protect her.”

“Fine, but I am going in with you. I was the one who knocked into her and failed to keep her from falling. My Alpha instincts have gone haywire, and I need to protect her,” his eyes glaring back at the playmates, “from certain people here. Most of all, ensuring she is okay and make amends for my mistake,” Yoongi states without room for argument, moving to the side, nodding to his packmates to make room for them.

Once the two are through, the pack retakes their defensive stance, keeping everyone else out. They understand where their mate is coming from as they also want to keep the group of Playmates away from you, their disgusting words looping through their heads.

Namjoon shuts the door for privacy and protection while he stands guard just outside, with one ear listening to what is happening inside the room and one ear on the rest of the office. His mind racing from the powerful wave of rotten scent that has built up in the room.

The scent-blocking measures no longer mask your distress and pain causing your scent is much more robust in this room. This makes Derek and Yoongi to whine at the smell and quickly move to your side.

Derek pulled you into a tight embrace, pushing his scent out and over you and scenting the top of your head while murmuring soft, reassuring words. Yoongi comforts you with his own calming scents, pushing down the desire to pry you out of Derek’s hold to take you into his own. Much to their relief, your tears slow, and your breathing calms after what feels like hours.

“Derek, my nightmares, they came true. I ruined everything. I should have stayed away like you and Evie said. I should have been looking where I was going. Reina was right. The one with the black tail, did I hurt him? He... He tried catching me. Me! I weigh a ton,” you ramble as your panic is still racing in your mind.

At that last comment, a deep growl resounds throughout the room. It takes half a second to realize it is not from the hybrid holding you. Catching your breath and snapping your mouth shut, you cautiously peek through your hair to look behind you to see none other than Mr. Min Yoongi, who turns out to be the owner of said black tail, now snapping to and fro with irritation. 

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, your mind racing to figure out a way to get out of this situation without causing any further damage and how best to word your resignation letter.

“Miss Y/n, let us address a few things. Firstly, you do NOT weigh a ton, nor will you ever refer to yourself in that manner again. Secondly, I am not injured, nor could you injure me, as I AM an Alpha in my own right and am stronger than I look, even if I am not the Prime Alpha of the Bangtan Pack,” declares the hybrid, his eyes flashing a different color.

You shrink down to try to make yourself smaller. Seeing your reaction and realizing that his Alpha is trying to be in control again, he takes another deep breath to calm himself, looking between you and Derek. He can almost hear his Alpha stomp around his head, demanding to get you out of the other hybrid’s arms and keep you as his.

After a few controlled breaths, Yoongi says, “Lastly, would you be so kind as to allow my Alpha to inspect you for injuries? I came out of the observation room door unannounced and ran into you. I tried to prevent you from falling, but we are close in height, and I could not do much other than take what I hoped was the brunt of the fall.”

Turning more towards him but still staying in the safety of Derek’s hold, you look at him with confusion. “Your Alpha? Like your hybrid-side is not yourself?” Looking over your shoulder at Derek, you see him with a smirk and a chuckle on his lips.

“Missy here,” Derek looks at Yoongi, “has never met an Alpha male before. I am a beta, and her best friend is an omega.” Turning his attention back to you, “Unlike Evie and I, an Alpha has an inner animal that they can change into fully at will and it allows them to go into Alpha space to assist in protecting, hunting, and mating.”

You look at Yoongi with wide eyes, “You turn into a black cat?” 

“I am not a black cat,” he huffs in annoyance, eyes flashing a different color briefly. “I am a Black Jaguar hybrid, and I am trying my best to keep him at bay because he can sense that your emotions have calmed down, but you are still in pain.” 

His eyes roam over your figure, stopping when he notices you are cradling your right wrist. Standing up and motioning to a nearby chair, he asks, “Please, can I inspect you for injuries? I can see you are being careful with your right hand.”

With a gentle push from behind you, you move to the chair Yoongi gestured to. Derek also stands up but keeps his distance, watching how the two of you interact.

Yoongi kneels before you, “I have to let my Alpha see for himself. I promise he will not harm you. Mr. Gulley can attest to that at this point, my Alpha would have much rather hurt himself than you.” 

Glancing at Derek, he nods with a knowing smile while taking a seat a few tables over, so as not to interfere. Taking a moment to collect yourself, running your good hand through your hair and fixing your shirt, you look down at the hybrid.

With a slight smirk, he looks at you with kind eyes, “Miss Y/n, please allow me to check for injuries. You have no reason to be nervous. You look perfect as you are.” 

Blushing slightly at his words, you nod and tuck your hair behind your ear again. You watch him closely as his dark brown eyes slowly change into a stunning golden-yellow color, with the pupil elongating into a pointed oval. His ears and tail moved this way and that, never quite settling in one position for very long. Your scent turns slightly back to sweet peas as the sight makes you smile softly. 

Cautiously, Yoongi kneels closer to you to become within reaching distance. Taking your left ankle gently in his hand, he rotates it, bends your leg at the knee, and sniffs at each joint. He repeats the process with the other side as well. Finding that nothing in your legs seems to be hurting, he looks at your face again with a short, pleased chirping sound. 

Scooting a little closer, he reaches out to your left hand, bends your elbow, feels along your fingers one by one, then rotates your wrist and again seems to sniff along the joints. 

You fidget in your seat, knowing what comes next will hurt, but you don't know how the hybrid in front of you will react. Noticing your movements and the slight change in your scent, Yoongi wraps his tail around your ankle to offer support. A slight sense of pride fills him when your scent calms down at his gesture of comfort, even if you do not realize it. 

Taking your right hand, he follows the same steps, pausing slightly before he rotates your wrist. You let out a yelp of pain and bite your bottom lip as you try to pull your hand out of his grip, which only causes him to hold it just a little bit tighter with one hand while the other quickly reaches to the nape of your neck to bring you into an awkward hug. Your head is now resting on his shoulder with your nose breathing against his neck, your good hand going to his side and gripping his shirt. 

Once the pain has dulled, you realize you smell the rain, not like fresh rain but like petrichor or the earth after a good downpour. It is comforting and relaxes you even more until you hear a soft chuffing noise and remember who you are smelling. 

Pulling away, you shyly look back at Yoongi, still observing you with golden-yellow eyes and holding your wrist firm but gently. “Umm... I think I just landed on it wrong. Just some ice and pain meds should be okay. I will be good as new tomorrow,” you say with a false smile, trying to play it off as no big deal.

However, Yoongi’s ears flatten, and his feline eyes narrow at you while nodding down to your wrist. Following his line of sight, you now see that your wrist is slightly swollen and is covered with a lovely purple color. “Okay, maybe I won’t be as good as new tomorrow.”

Derek stands up and approaches the two of you to see the damage done. Taking a sharp breath, he looked at Yoongi and froze, noting that the Alpha was sternly watching his every move. 

Outside the breakroom, Mr. Johnson, the director of PMS USA, was informed there was an incident and is now standing with Manager Sejin outside the BTS barrier. He had ordered Reina and the other playmates to be escorted back into the conference room by some other staff. 

To say the Playmates didn’t attempt to excuse away their behaviors or tell a specialized version of the story would be lying, and BTS’s reaction quickly caused them to shut up and hide in the room like they were told to in the beginning.

Mr. Johnson had hand-picked you to be the friendly first face of PMS because you light up any room you walk into and are always willing to put in the extra time to help make things perfect on or off the clock. 

“Hello, I am the director, I really should go in there and make sure my employee is okay, Manager Sejin,” Mr. Johnson states, glancing at the members of BTS as they continue to block the door and growl at anyone who walks near them. 

“Why are they not letting anyone near the door? I am sorry. I know about hybrids from the symposiums and conferences but rarely interact with many. I typically leave that up to my staff,” says the director, glancing over at the hamster hybrid.

“Namjoon-ssi, do you want me to answer that, or would you like to?” Manager Sejin asks while watching Mr. Johnson. Namjoon redirects his attention from the breakroom door to the seemingly incompetent human before him. 

Taking a few slow steps forward, Hoseok takes over guarding the entrance. Namjoon comes to stand with his pack, but nearer to Mr. Johnson and Manager Sejin, he says, “Mr. Johnson, we are a pack. More so, we are a pack of Alpha hybrids. Ranging from prey to predator types. We are a bonded pack on top of that, which means it’s all or none. We all are protective of something or someone if one of us feels the need. When one of us is hurt, we are all hurting with them.”

Looking at each of his packmates, Namjoon is filled with a sense of pride. Though they don’t know the extent of what has happened, they still support their mate to the best of their ability in a foreign country without question.

“Yoongi-hyung is feeling protective of Miss Y/n because of a few things. Miss Y/n is injured because of an accident caused by hyung. She is not in a good emotional state because of your Playmates’ behavior due to the same accident,” the Prime Alpha says as he looks back at the Director, trying to maintain a more neutral expression to hide his disdain for the women now in some office somewhere.

“As an Alpha, our animals require us to hold ourselves to a higher standard than other hybrids or humans. We like to try and ensure those around us are happy. With a very select few, we want to make sure they are also healthy and protected, among other things. In Yoongi’s Alpha space, he has failed to meet these standards when it comes to Miss Y/n. It is now beyond his control, so to speak, to do anything other than fix his mistakes and ensure Miss Y/n’s safety, recovery, and happiness. This means the Bangtan Pack is now responsible for the same.”

“Oh well. Um. I see. I can reassure you that Playmate Services has a good doctor who can tend to her if she needs one, and of course, she can have the rest of today and even tomorrow off. No need to make a fuss,” says the director, trying to dispel the sense of doom he is feeling due to the power emanating from the six remaining Alphas.

A deep growl rips from behind Namjoon, causing everyone to look and see that Taehyung's eyes are flickering crystal blue. His scent of burning ebony wood crashed over the pack.

Speaking through gritted teeth, he glares at the director, saying, “You seem to be in over your head, Mr. Johnson. Your company is built for hybrids, and you have hybrids working for you, yet you know nothing. Your incompetence is allowing bullying. From what one of your staff says, it has been happening for quite some time and yet you do nothing about it. Did you not hear our Prime Alpha tell you that she is ours now. We will take her to get treated by our medical professionals. We will take care of her to ensure she heals properly and regains a better state of mind. Not. You.”

“Hyung, it’s okay. Calm down, please. We don’t need two of you in Alpha space right now. It will not help Miss Y/n or Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook says as he steps up next to Taehyung, scenting his neck gently as his snickerdoodle scent pushes out, causing the blue to flicker to stop and remain his natural dark brown. 

With a last glare and a mumbled, “Pathetic, oblivious, 리더십이 부족한 사람, human.” He moves closer to Hoseok and, in turn, you. Jungkook quickly follows in an attempt to keep the high-tempered White Southwest African Tiger calm and get closer to you as well. 

“You may have misunderstood me, gentlemen. I have tried to deal with the playmates and their disrespectful actions towards Y/n and some of the other staff. Sadly, Reina is the top female pick and brings in a lot of money. Since we are the newest and smallest branch, the corporate office wants to refrain from taking any disciplinary actions for fear that she will quit. They think that any of the office staff are replaceable, whereas reliable Playmates are harder to find,” Mr. Johnson explains.

“Mr. Johnson, while that may be the case prior to today, their bullying has gone too far. Manager Sejin,” Namjoon says, “I believe it would be wise if the director took care of the bullying by the playmates and joined them for the time being. We need a few moments without interruptions to assess what is happening and how the Pack will move forward with this office, if at all.” 

Dismissing the director to be dealt with by Manager Sejin, Namjoon walks back to the door, which is now being guarded by Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook. The scent of snickerdoodle, ebony wood, and lilac mix together with the pack scent of vanilla underneath.

“... can’t tell?”

“Can’t tell what?” Namjoon asks the small group.

“Hobi-hyung can’t tell,” replies Jungkook while Taehyung nods in agreement. 

“The boys say that their Alphas are reacting to Miss Y/n but I can’t tell if mine does or not. You spoke to her, stood right in front of her. Namjoon, can you tell?” questions Hoseok with his arms crossed and hip cocked to the side.

“Oh? Hmm, I guess I haven’t really paid attention. After what happened with… you know who… I guess I have been pushing my Alpha to the back as much as I could. I have been focusing on taking care of you guys, my mates, first and I couldn’t do that with him pacing in my head so much. She really tore Yoongi-hyung, Jimin-ah, and well you, Hobi, apart inside with what she said,” reflects the Prime Alpha.

Namjoon started thinking back to hearing your voice, full of determination and strength, over the phone yesterday. Your care, intention, and respect for the pack that you have shown today. It would be simple to say that his Alpha was at least comfortable around you, and from how the pack’s scents have been, he wasn’t the only one who was.

“My Alpha is comfortable with Miss y/n, but I wouldn’t say that he is reacting in any particular way.”

A soft whine leaves Jungkook before he says, “Why do the older mates always walk with blinders on? Huh! You need to really let your Alpha look at her. My Alpha hasn’t wanted to look away from her since we walked into the office.”

“Joon-hyung, I am with Kookie on this one,” Taehyung nods, still in the bunny hybrid's hold. “While I wasn’t drawn in right away, I trust Yoongi's Alpha not to react this way with just anyone. So, when he ran after her, I was the closest one to the door, and before the pack’s scent took over, I could smell vanilla with something rotten. At first, I thought it was a candle or something, but I looked around. There are no candles.”

Taehyung’s comment on smelling vanilla caught Jimin and Seokjin's attention. Turning to join the conversation while trying to maintain the barrier, Jimin speaks up, “So it wasn’t just me. When Yoongi-hyung and that man went in, I smelled vanilla with almost a compost-like smell. After that, my Alpha wanted nothing but to keep everyone, human or hybrid, away from this door. He is really fighting to be at the front.”

“I figured that our muscle bunny was just leaning into his instincts of being a bunny when he was speaking about Miss Y/n in the conference room. Yet it didn’t explain to me why my Alpha felt awkward at her bowing to me when I spoke to her before going into the room,” adds Seokjin with a stern but thoughtful look. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok moves away from the door slightly, his expression confused and frustrated. “Are you telling me that you have all had some kind of reaction from your Alphas for the human lady behind the door? Some of you smelled vanilla, too?”

Nodding, they all look at Hoseok and then at Namjoon, waiting for them to come to the same conclusion. After a few tense moments passed, it was like a lightbulb went off over Hoseok’s head as his lilac scent burst with more hints of rose and vanilla.

Everyone now focuses on Namjoon.

Namjoon’s head is racing over every moment that has happened since walking in the door. As Prime Alpha, his responsibilities for the pack are more significant than others, and with what the boys are hinting at, the next few moments will change so much. 

“Her reactions were top-notch with our pack, and her showing an exceeding amount of respect to the packmates could be just her professionalism,” he thinks aloud, trying to find a non-life-changing reason for the situation only to be met with more whines and a few soft growls.

Looking up, Namjoon makes eye contact with each of his mates before continuing, “However, only the vanilla scent can mean one thing which won’t be easy for the human woman.”

Taking a deep breath, the pack turned their attention to the door.

“We have an American Mate.”

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Taglist - CLOSED

@braveangel777 @bethanysnow @smileykiddie08 @kayways @danielle143 @nenefix-on @im-gemmy @fluffy-canada-pancakes @juju-227592 @levislifeline @carolinexkpop

[starryeyedjanai]

@steddieholidaydrabbles valentine's day prompt | read on ao3 tags: established relationship, fluff

“Wait, how is it possible that you’ve never had a Valentine’s Day date?” Eddie asks. “You literally dated Nancy for almost a year.”

Steve shrugs. “She was sick that week. I had something planned, but had to cancel. I brought her soup and stayed with her for a little while, but it wasn't really the date I had hoped for, you know?”

In the nine months he and Steve have been dating, Steve has gotten better about asking for what he wants, but he still gets weird about some things though. So Eddie knows he’s bringing this up a couple weeks before Valentine’s Day for a reason—that even though he can’t really say it, he wants to have Valentine’s Day plans with Eddie.

So Eddie starts planning.

His plan starts with breakfast in bed because he doesn't want to take away from whatever Steve’s got planned for dinner — he knows Steve will probably plan something romantic for that.

His suspicions about that are proven right when Steve not so casually asks at the beginning of the week if he has “dinner plans on Saturday” as if Eddie won’t remember that’s the 14th. He plays along and says he doesn't have any plans yet, watching as Steve tries to hide his small smile behind his hand. He’s so fucking cute.

On Valentine’s Day, Eddie wakes up earlier than he has since he graduated high school and makes his way over to Steve's with his supplies.

He lets himself into the house with the key Steve had given him a few months ago and gets to work quietly making breakfast.

He mixes the waffle mix before he puts a pot of coffee on, fiddling with the coffee machine that he’s only used a few times because Steve tends to wake up before him and already have it brewed.

He hums quietly to himself as he cooks the bacon and eggs, the waffles cooking away in the waffle iron.

When the food is done, he grabs the tray he brought with him and arranges flower petals around the plate. He turns to grab a coffee mug and nearly has a heart attack at the sight of Steve leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asks, watching as Steve starts to walk forward towards him.

“A few minutes. I woke up and heard something and figured you must be down here,” Steve says, coming to a stop right in front of Eddie. He’s smiling softly and his eyes are fond and happy and Eddie gets lost in them for a moment before he remembers—

“Wait, no, go back to bed! This is supposed to be breakfast in bed!”

Steve brings a hand up to push Eddie's hair out of his face and cup his neck. He says, “Breakfast in bed is a really sweet idea, but I don't think I could handle the crumbs,” and Eddie groans.

He forgot how much of a stickler Steve is for not having food in his room. “I wanted to be romantic!” he whines, sticking his bottom lip out. Steve swoops in and kisses it softly.

“It was very romantic to wake up to the smell of coffee and come down here to see you singing and cooking me breakfast,” he says, thumb stroking over Eddie's cheek.

Eddie leans into the touch and says, “Go sit at the table and I’ll bring it to you. At least let me have that.”

Steve smiles wider and says, “Okay, love.”

Eddie pours them both a cup of coffee, adding sugar and cream to Steve's, repeating what he’s seen him do countless mornings, before he finishes plating the food.

He grabs the tray and his own plate and brings them to the dining room, setting the tray in front of Steve.

He’s about to go sit in the chair next to him when Steve pulls him into his lap.

Eddie laughs and turns in his lap so he’s sitting sideways and not blocking the food.

“You shaped the eggs like hearts,” Steve says, looking up at Eddie.

Eddie sets his plate down on the table and kisses Steve, soft and slow.

“I think this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Steve says when he pulls back. His eyes are shining a little.

“You deserve romantic things,” Eddie says, kissing Steve's temple. “You deserve all the romantic things, in fact. I have a whole day of romantic things planned just for you.”

“The whole day?” Steve asks, surprised.

“What, did you think I’d feed you breakfast and then just leave you alone the rest of the day?” Eddie asks with a playful scoff. “We’re gonna eat breakfast and then we’re gonna watch the cheesy romantic comedy I rented. Then we’re gonna go to Lover’s Lake and have a picnic in the back of my van. Then we’ll come back here and I’ll let you have your way with me before you whisk me off to whatever dinner plans you made.”

Steve has the nerve to look caught out at that last bit. “You knew?” he asks, mouth pulled into a cringing smile.

“I know you, darling,” Eddie says, grinning at him. “You’re a romantic.”

“This is going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever, spending the entire day doing what you planned,” Steve says, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s jaw. “But I hope you know I’m gonna woo you tonight. Sweep you off your feet.”

“Oh, are you now? How do you plan on doing that?” Eddie asks.

“It’s a surprise,” Steve says, voice teasing. He picks up his fork to start eating.

Eddie hums. “No thoughts about the having your way with me part of my plan?”

“Oh I have thoughts. Many, many thoughts,” Steve says, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Eddie's jaw. “I’ll try not to wear you out before dinner.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m holding you to that, big boy.”

[pianokantzart]

YES! GOOD! I’m going to just going to analyze the whole dinner scene, because it’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. 

Mario and Luigi walk in, and immediately the whole room lights up to greet them. Despite everything that follows, one thing is clear: The Mario Brothers are happy to see their family, and the family is happy to see them. 

The whole family confirms that they watched their commercial. Everyone except their mom insists the commercial was a bad idea, but the fact that they all watched it speaks to the fact that there is no indifference regarding Mario and Luigi’s dream. They’re eager to see where this endeavor leads, even if they think it’s going to end in failure. 

The moment Mario and Luigi sit down at the table, their uncles begin laying into them like it’s open season on financially struggling plumbers. Just full blown, no-holds-barred roast mode on their nephews.

Mario is on the defensive, but he doesn’t get angry, he’s just trying to argue his side. Clearly this is typical behavior for Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur. They’re loud, overly honest, and obnoxiously confident in their opinions. Uncle Arthur, thankfully, has his wife to keep him in check. Uncle Tony, however, who is seated next to poor Luigi, is an absolute menace.

Luigi ignores all the teasing. He is only interested in getting food, but this is not an easy task. Tony’s verbal arguments are all directed at Mario, but Luigi is the one who gets prodded and shoved around, and that makes getting dinner next to impossible.

Luigi attempts to serve himself salad, attempts to ask for a roll, attempts to eat the mushrooms being put on his plate, and at every turn he’s either pushed away or talked over. He is clearly very soft spoken compared to the other men in his family, and never quite had the strength to stand up for himself... after all, everyone means well, they just lack self awareness. It isn’t worth the fight. 

Thankfully, Luigi’s mom comes to the rescue, and puts a bowl of soup in front of her boy. She’s the queen of the caretaker role, making sure all the loose ends are tied up and that everybody eats.

But on the flip side, it’s interesting to note that once the uncles start tearing into Mario, Mario’s Dad serves him up a plate of food. He may have just been serving the person next to him because that was the polite thing to do, but I have a theory...

I think that this wasn’t the first night that Mario and his uncles went at each other. I think Mario’s Dad read the room, and figured that if Mario was going to spend dinner playing defense, he should at least remember to eat while doing so.

It also speaks volumes that Mario’s Dad doesn’t voice his disapproval until Mario asks for his opinion. Before then he avoids the subject and lets everyone else do the talking, but so long as he’s being questioned directly, he can’t help but be honest.

“I think... you’re nuts. You don’t quit a steady job for some crazy dream.” This sounds like a voice of experience. Mario’s Dad has the figure of someone who has worked physical labor for a good portion of his life (look the size of those arms). He may have had dreams of his own when he was younger, but he had a wife and kids to worry about, and family took priority. 

Speaking of family taking priority: “... and the worst part? You’re bringing your brother down with you.” That settles it. The conversation has gone from a casual roast session to dead serious. The entire room falls quiet as Mario puts down his fork and storms off. 

“What’d I say?” Everybody at the table (except the niece, she’s long since checked out) gives Mario’s Dad different versions of the look™. Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur have the same “Jesus Christ bro, you didn’t have to go there” expression, and Luigi just looks hurt on Mario’s behalf. His Dad, however, is just confused.  

He didn’t get the gravity of what he said. His relationship with his own brothers– loudmouthed schmucks who call their own shots – is completely alien to what Luigi and Mario have. He probably knows Mario is protective of Luigi, but he doesn’t realize the depth of responsibility Mario feels for him. Anyone can see that Luigi is loyal to his brother, but Mario alone knows how loyal he is, and the implication that he’s betraying that loyalty is intensely painful. 

I doubt Uncle Arthur and Uncle Tony truly relate to Mario and Luigi’s relationship either, but they’ve probably teased Mario enough to understand one thing: bringing Luigi into it is a line you do not cross.

Conclusion:

There is a lot of love in the Mario family.

Uncle Tony and Uncle Arthur are definitely the most insufferable of the bunch, but there is no malice in their teasing. While they are brash and overbearing, it’s all in good fun, and they get visibly uncomfortable when things go too far and someone actually ends up hurt. 

Luigi seems to take after his mother; kind, nonconfrontational, and happily invested in a supporting role. While his Mom cares for and assists the family, Luigi cares for and assists his brother, both emotionally and in his business ventures.

Mario, in the meantime, takes after his Dad, who appears to be the oldest of the three brothers. He doesn’t always think before speaking, but he isn’t constantly running his mouth like Arthur or Tony, and acts with the gravity of someone who bears a lot of responsibility. He doesn’t quite “get” his sons, but he knows enough to see that Luigi follows his brother everywhere, and Mario does not always think before jumping into things. Despite what Mario may believe, his Dad doesn’t see him as a “joke” so much as he sees him as an impulsive young man who doesn’t grasp the consequences of his actions. But Mario does understand the consequences of his actions, he just dreams big, and... thanks to Luigi... actually has the support he needs to pursue those dreams. 

[irndad]

maybe washing remus' hair after a full moon idk idk

wc: 1.5k~ a/n: ok so this is long and more than the prompt- friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love :) basically reader and remus have a situationship blooming but she finds out he's a werewolf and he thinks that she doesn't want him anymore !!! i hope you like first remus fic AAAAA

He’s exhausted. 

It’s the kind of tired Remus can feel inches bones- the ache seeping down past his muscles, a dull ache that threatens to knock him out of consciousness. The turn had been a rough one- not that there were any that were easy. If he’d had any sense he would have canceled on her, but the selfish urge to see her overwhelms the urge to keep her away. 

They’d had a bit of thing going, once. 

She’s gorgeous, in mind and in spirit. They had been friends at Hogwarts, but mainly the kind that you say hello to in the halls and don’t know much else about. Still, Remus had always loved when she looked at him. Sirius had brought her around soon after graduation, and Remus had felt the familial lick of envy at the prospect of her attention being fixed on Sirius. But it wasn’t. 

In the two years since the first time she sat on James’ ratty couch and looked so abjectly beautiful that he’s not sure how he ever took his eyes off her, they’d become quite close. She’s just lovely, is the thing- looks at him like she’s got nowhere else to be, like she’s so pleased to have him in a room with her. Remus doesn’t tend to believe he makes any room better, but she’s so open, and warm.

At one point, she thought he was pretty, too. 

He’s trying not to think about it anymore, but the memory of it is still fresh in his mind. How her gaze had raked over him slowly and carefully, like a long drag of a cigarette. He’s never know how to handle someone being attracted to him. Especially someone like her. It felt hedonistic, in a way he can’t believe he allowed himself to engage in. But she’s just so easy to want, the way her soft fingers brushed his when he walked by, in a way that could be played off as an accident. 

They almost kissed, once. She’d been over at his flat in the late hours of the morning, and whatever game they were playing seemed to be bending the rules. She was tucked neatly underneath his long, lanky arm, and for a second, he thought to himself you can have this. A lull in the sound of whatever advertisement was playing left him brave, and some force of nature was pulling him towards her. She smelled floral and like home. He’d gotten so close, felt the warmth of her breath on his mouth. 

The sound shook them apart, some infomercial, and they never spoke of it. Three days later, she’d caught him changing, seen the scars on his chest, and she hadn’t touched him since. 

It doesn’t sting. It’s okay that she doesn’t want him anymore. She never really wanted him- she’d gotten caught up in her nerdy friend, Moony, and once she’d found out who he really was, she walked away. Of course she did. She’d be insane not to. Except, she’s still around. Now, she has context for when he’s sick once a month, and brings by soup. It’s always comforting and she always sits beside him, and really, Remus is so grateful for her attention, in whatever form it comes in. This much of her is more than anyone could ever hope for in their sorry life. 

She knows he’s recovering, today, and even though it’s not everything he wants, Remus has been looking forward to seeing her all morning. He hears the sound of the light knock she always does on the door. 

“Come in, dove!” He yells back, even though his throat aches. He feels an inordinate amount of fondness for her as she lightly pads over to him. She doesn’t even greet him as he lays on the couch. He turns to see her, and she looks so, so lovely. 

“Oh my love,” her lovely voice wraps around him, her delicate fingers pushing his overgrown hair out of her eyes after she’s put her basket of goodies down, “How are you feeling?”

“Poorly,” he answers, feeling like a petulant child. It’s hard to keep up the facade around her, especially as she strokes the side of his face with such tenderness.

“Your hair is filthy,” she says, running her fingers through the length of it. 

“You wound me,” he says back, but his eyes close serenely at the sensation anyway. 

“We need to wash it,” she says, and Remus is pretty sure he’d give his left kidney to have her keep looking at him, so he nods. “Can you walk with me to the bathroom?”

They walk over together slowly to his bathroom, and she asks if he wants to be in the sink or the tub. 

“You don’t have to wash my hair, dove,” he says softly.

“Sink or tub?”

They lean over the tub. 

He feels small, but not in altogether bad way. Her expert fingers work through the tendrils and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine her doing this out of the same love he has for her. That his lover, the best person he knows, knows the truth of him and still loves him anyway. 

The process itself is quite quick, and she helps walk him back to the sofa. When he’s all settled, hair a bit wet and the collar of his shirt a bit soaked, she only lingers a moment. 

“I’ll make you a cuppa,” she speaks quickly, before disappearing into the kitchen. 

He does feel better with clean hair. It’s irrational, but he wants to beg her to love him. To keep building what they were making before. He knows that what he is, the thing he turns into that’s still just part of him- he knows that it’s hard to love. But if anyone could, it would be her, no?

It doesn’t take her long to make it. It’s just how he likes it. 

“Thank you, sweet girl.” The endearment slips out before he can stop it, not that he was particularly invested in trying. She’s the one that’s lost interest. He’s awful at pretending. Plus, her lovely flush is everything he loves to see.

“I’m glad I could help, Moony,” she says, unwavering doe eyes meeting his, “I’m sorry I’ve been so…weird since I found out.”

She hasn’t been weird. She’s been lovely. She’s come over and stroked his hair and fed him soup and taken care of him. She’d been kind and sweet and good to him. She just didn’t want him anymore.

“You’ve been lovely,” is what he says, instead. 

“No,” she laughs, tipping her head back, “Before I found out- I thought you wanted me over when you were poorly…I don’t know, for us to see each other. But you were sick, and I thought you might have fancied me, and it was fucking presumptuous of me, Rem, and I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to it.”

She tucks her hair behind her ears, a nervous tick.

“You thought I fancied you?”

“I…don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m really sorry, and I just want to be a good friend. You were dealing with something that’s so incredibly difficult and I thought you fancied me. God, how fucking self-centered of me.”

“I don’t follow- dove, of course I fancy you.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s saying something shocking, but apparently he is, the way her eyes widen like saucers. 

“When I was miserable and felt shit, you came over and made everything better when everything hurt.  And then you nearly kissed me and I-,” he sucks in a harsh breath, “I know that you probably don’t want to kiss me now, the whole being a monster thing, but even if you can’t love someone like me, that doesn’t mean I stopped.”

He feels unbearably naked- suddenly wishing he’d shaved, prepared a little for her visit. He’s got a band tee and some sweats on, and stubble, and he’d prefer if when she found out he loves her, that he looks halfway decent. Her gaze is heavy on him and he feels small, but truth is truth. Moments pass and his heart beat is strong, loud in his ears. 

“Listen, dove, I’m sorry-“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish before she’s kissing him. It’s a gentle thing in physicality but sudden, too. Her fists ball up his shirt, and Remus wraps his arms around her middle, the experience of being encompassed in her affection. 

“You silly, silly man,” she says, lips so close that they brush his as she speaks, “How could I ever not want you?”

He runs his hands along the length of her waist- a thing he’s fantasized about but is in dreams and in fantasy realized and wanted. 

He can’t think of what to say, doesn’t know what he can do to keep this, but it doesn’t seem like he needs to know what to say. 

When they tell the gang that they’re together (a fact that Remus can’t stop running over in his mind over, and over, and over again), no one seems surprised. 

If he didn’t know better, he thinks he might of heard James whisper to Lily, finally. 

[knavesflames]

i have a request if it is alright and you're comfortable writing this ! arlecchino x reader who refuses to eat because they are insecure, eventually caving in for their beloved peruere, who Always has her way with words . . . that said if you do write this take your time !! i hope you have a good day <3

Hi! I struggle with this myself tbh, it’s been an ongoing struggle since I was 12/13, so if you’re feeling like this I really hope you’re alright! That being said, I hope you enjoy. I tried to make it as close to your prompt as possible!!

Word count: 985

Contents: fem!reader with implied ed, nothing graphic but she struggles poor thing, husband material peruere fr, shes deffo so soft for her gf

utc!

You have always seemed to have your own silent troubles with body image and eating. Now of course, Arlecchino noticed the day she met you. You can hide it as much as you want to, but she’s become quite aware of your little tricks, and that convincing smile. For the peace of the house, she goes along with them, for the most part. What else can she do when you refuse to admit you have an issue? She instead opts to sit with you when you eat, always snacking on something herself despite her appetite being smaller than the average person. When you attempt to distract either her or yourself from whatever meal you both have sat down to eat, a singular finger will gently tap on the side of the plate or the bowl, a small but silent indicator that she knows what you’re doing, and it isn’t working.

You were getting a little bit better for a while, but someone you hadn’t seen in a while had commented on your body and it had gone downhill from there. Since then, she has watched you with a careful eye, and of course, taken the batteries out of the scale. Arlecchino is one to silently deter you, rather than intervene and make you feel attacked. She has learned from experience that it does not help.

However, when she notices that you once again have not eaten the entire day, she realises that giving you some fruit cubes or a bowl of soup will not suffice. So, she cooks for you. The woman can cook, yes, but not anything other than salt and pepper. She cooks a bland meal, a little variation of your favourite one. She just cannot bring herself to put in the chilli flakes. She casts glances at you as you sit in the living room, noting down each detail she notices about you— the way you’ve chosen baggy clothes over the usual outfits you love to wear. The sad eyes and the way you avoid any hint of a reflection as to avoid seeing yourself. Arlecchino thinks it is so, so sad when the person she loves so dearly cannot bring themselves to love themselves too.

When Arlecchino moves to sit next to you with two plates in her hand, you already know, and you’re already prepared to refuse. Before you could open your mouth, though, the plate is placed in your hands, with one word. ‘Eat.’

You take a few small bites, enough for her eyes to stop watching you constantly. Once you think she’s calmed down, you go about your typical tricks. Yapping on about anything and everything and always attempting to distract her. It does not work this time.

“You aren’t fooling me,” she hums, tapping the ceramic plate with her nail. “I made this for you. Please try to eat it.”

You find yourself faltering at the pleading tone in her voice. Arlecchino does not plead, nor does she ask, or beg. She doesn’t seem to be Arlecchino now, though. She is not The Knave. She’s how she is when she’s alone with you, where she allows you to call her by her true name.

“Peruere, I am not hungry.” You begin, eager to appease her. Peruere is stubborn, though, and wants to hear absolutely nothing about it.

“You are, and you will eat. Please. You look miserable, and I dislike when you are miserable. Why must you suffer for beauty standards that are so unrealistic?” For once, her voice is soft instead of the harsh, cold voice you’ve grown to love. It’s different, but you can’t say you mind it.

“You say that, but you’re beautiful,” you mutter, staring at the plate in front of you. Your hand absentmindedly twirls the fork around. “It’s not the same.”

“I am tall, and I have many scars. I wear a suit. My hands are charred to the extent that they will never return to their true colour. My eyes. I do not fit the so-called standard either, but there is nothing I can do about the issue, so why would I waste my hours suffering at the hands of myself because of it? Why would you, when you are so perfect to me?”

You huff in annoyance, but purely because you know she’s hit a nerve in you, and you know she’s right. It irritates you, because you can’t seem to find a witty comeback. You look at her, and her once stoic face has worry written into her features. You see it in the way her eyebrows crease, and the way her head has tilted to the side. It’s the most emotion you’ll get out of her. You stare at her for a little longer before you cave, and while grumbling incoherently, you stab the food with the fork you’re holding (a bit aggressively), before taking a bite.

You chew for a while, longer than necessary, and she cocks an eyebrow in a silent command. You continue chewing, staring at her for a beat before she realises why you haven’t swallowed yet. She sighs gently, but takes a bite of her own and, the second she swallows, you do too. Peruere decides she’ll take what she can get, and watches as you mirror her until the food has settled into your stomach. Peruere is acutely aware of your little habits, though, and pulls you close to her so you are not able to suddenly stand up.

“You did well. You already look less tired. I do despise when you mistreat the person I love.” She mumbles into your hair, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as you nuzzle into her. Peruere decides that if she has to do this with every meal, she will, because the way your eyes light up when you taste her ever so bland food warms her heart more than she’d care to admit.