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winterzsurprise · 25 days ago

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Change My Mind [6]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 6.9k

If you weren't able to catch the author's note, update will be very slow due to my campus enrolling us to a government extracurricular that spans for three months so updates with be VERY slow until then. Sorry this one took long, had to remove one chunk out of this chapter so I could have it posted as soon as I could. Also ik the last chapter's ending was so rushed, I'll try to fix it once I get the time so for now, ignore that mess ;-;

EDIT: plenty of details edited out but nothing too important, also fixed a few mistakes.

Please vote Jimin in Visa Choice in MAMA voting and push Namseok to the top 10 for Fan's Choice award! STREAM I'LL BE THERE

<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>

________

“Noona, please… Just turn around…”

“I would if I could, but I'm at my limit here!”

“I will break your fingers if you don’t move.”

“Try it and I’ll tell Namjoon you were the one who spilled alcohol on the book he was reading the other day!”

“Just turn around damn it!”

“I already am! I'm not gonna take a fucking peak!”

You're living through a nightmare.

Never in your life did you think working as a make-up artist for an up-and-rising boy idol group would eventually lead you to where you are now; with half of your body out of the bathroom with an arm stretched inside to hold Jimin’s hand that's also reaching out for yours while he stands in front of the toilet.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists doing, holding onto one of the member’s hands while he’s in the bathroom exactly?

Soulbond strain, that’s what the doctor had said. That's what caused the constant fatigue you and Jimin were feeling yesterday which eventually caused you both to pass out from exhaustion. Due to how ill-informed they are of both your marks, they weren't aware of how fragile your new bond was and how much touching should be involved for the first few days.

So now, you are sentenced—sentenced because having to hold your soulmate's hand while you piss, and eventually, shower and shit is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you—to nonstop skinship with Jimin for a week. Though after a few days, your body could withstand not holding his hand for almost a minute and you hoped it goes past an hour when the week finally ends.

Today marks the last day you both will be confined to the hospital as they've finally cleaned up one of the spare rooms in the dorm so you could move in.

You were so glad you could finally eat something more nutritious than bland soup. It should be a talent to be able to cook a soup so tasteless it would even make a white person frown despite the numerous vegetables and meat on them.

Since Jungkook's Birthday, you found yourself more often than not staring at the ceiling after eating, dreaming about eating other food so intensely it's like you could taste them in your buds.

A few days have passed since you found out you were soulmates with your best friends but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

The thought that these five—possibly seven depending on Seokjin and Hoseok’s test results later today—down to earth, aphrodite-blessed men with even more beautiful traits were tethered to you is bizarre. The idea never fails to short-circuit your brain every time you think about it.

And it's hard not to, not when you wake up sleeping next to the peaceful face of South Korea’s IT boy—with his arms wrapped around you and his head nuzzled under your chin; Its something you’re still trying to get used to as you’ve never dared to sleep while cuddling with your friends, no matter how tired you might be. It was far too intimate of an act, reserved for those who are romantically involved and for someone with feelings as fickle as yours back then, it was inappropriate.

Not that it mattered much now but it's still difficult to be comfortable with the domesticity of it all.

Save for Taehyung and Seokjin, everyone else has continued working, although you had advised a weary looking Hoseok to take a break, he insisted that he's fine whilst practically dragging himself out of the room. Namjoon had assured you that he'll watch over his hyung but you had threatened Yoongi for extra measures.

Speaking of work, your friends have been blowing up your phone since Jungkook's birthday, asking why they were required to sign a whole different NDA and you told them about your soulmates.

All of them reacted positively, Minhyuk had even pleaded to hear about how you discovered and had asked to be informed of all the latest happenings, from the courting, dates, and even the bedroom—something you had promised to hit him for once you're back to work.

But for now, you were stuck with a foot out of the bathroom and body turned to the opposite with an arm stretched far out to hold Jimin's hand as he finished his business.

So far, there's been no accidental flashing, to which you've been thankful for. The whole ordeal is already awkward as it is with only having to hear each other pee.

Jimin couldn’t even jokingly flirt with you the whole time, far too mortified with the idea of both parties being able to hear the stream of piss to even bother coming up with jokes to lighten up the situation, nor could you dare look into his eyes after the first few times you both had to go through this. You had refrained from eating too much in fear of having to shit during the week but you knew it would eventually happen.

Especially since you both have been greenlit to eat take outs and Seokjin had generously offered to buy you both food—bless that wonderful, handsome man—and dragged Taehyung out with him.

You had been hesitant to make a few demands at first because do you even deserve the kindness Seokjin is showing you after hurting him for years? But the man proved himself devoted once more when he listed down the food you’ve been craving desperately for without hearing it from your lips.

(Tae had joked that maybe it's the soulmate mark manifesting a little late and Jimin elbowed him for that.)

You didn’t even get to tell him not to bother when he began to loudly chant gibberish as he pulled Taehyung out of the room with him.

After all the babying and princess treatment you've been receiving in the short time of knowing you were soulmates, it's hard not to feel frustrated having your best friends become your beck and call when they—save for Yoongi—hadn't been doing so for the past few years. It was somewhat pressuring that you could ask Jungkook to brush his teeth and immediately drink orange juice and he'd do it without question, if not gargling the juice for a little while longer just because you asked him to do it.

From living alone and getting used to doing things by yourself, to suddenly having five people who'd follow your whims almost blindly, was overwhelming and slowly becoming more annoying than it is helpful.

If it wasn't for the guilt from getting irritated, you would've blown up on the first day when most of your soulmates had refused to let you stand up and walk around the room in fear of having you collapse.

Sure you had passed out from the soulbond strain but that same bond rendered you invulnerable to most things, you're not about to die walking around the room with Jimin, Yoongs.

You couldn't fault Jungkook and Tae for wanting to baby you. Jungkook never had someone to pamper and spoil, and Taehyung only had Jungkook; Even then, it wasn't in a romantic way and Jungkook was also being taken care of by the others so he didn't need to do much. His ex and him didn't last long enough for when BTS’ fame had skyrocketed and he had more money than he could ever spend in his life and is quickly running out of things to spend it on.

Still, it was hard to take all the coddling. It was better when they treated you with the distance platonic relationships had granted you.

The sound of a zipper broke through the awkward atmosphere before the flush of the toilet came. With a tug on your hand, you stepped back into the bathroom to follow Jimin to the sink so he could wash his hand, eyes still refusing to meet.

God, how did a friendship where he could literally strip off to his underwear in front of each other could turn so awkward like this?!

After spraying his hands with an overloading amount of alcohol—”Noona that’s overkill, I’ve already washed my hands.” “That’s just water, I’m not letting you touch me with a hand only washed with water!”— you and Jimin returned to the bed, huddled next to each other as you both scrolled on social media with both your bare legs thrown over his.

There's been comments left on your instagram page asking for Jimin's health and you decided to reply to one comment to say that he's fine and recovering. Silencing the app, you move to twitter when the door suddenly opens and in comes Seokjin holding up two plastic bags of takeout, flexing them as if they were golden medals and you sit up.

“Your handsome savior has arrived with fries and actually good food!”

“Hi noona!” Taehyung greets as he steps out of Jin's shadow.

“Jin you're actually the most good looking man I've ever seen in this forsaken planet, did you get me cheese and sour cream flav—”

“Of course I did,” He scoffed, putting down two paper bags and one drink carrier on your bedside table before placing the rest on the table near the bathroom door. “Who do you think I am?!”

“He almost ordered it all in cheese until I reminded him that you wanted sour cream too, noona.” Taehyung chimes in with a grin as he closes the door, a hand hidden behind his back while he holds a covered cup in the other.

Seokjin snapped his head towards him with an indignant ‘Ya!’, to which Tae only giggled at.

“You bought that heinous, god awful sweet tea with my money! How could you do this to me?!”

“I offered to pay but you—”

“WITH MY MONEY!”

Everyone only laughed and Jin trudged over with Jimin’s lunch in hand, offering it with an outreached arm and he took it. At least, he tried to. Jin suddenly raised his hand over his head. You watched as Jin continuously teased Jimin whose reach is limited due to the need to be holding your hand.

Jimin then finally got a grip on the plastic bag’s bottom and suddenly, their fishing game became a tug of war.

“Wait wait wait! You're going to tear it! It's going to spill!”

“Just fucking give it to me, hyung!” Jimin grunt, tugging one last time and the side of the bag rips, immediately Jin lets go.

“Why would you pull that hard?!”

Jimin ignored him in favor of pulling out his container, which he realized is overwhelmingly little compared to your three packages.

“Hyung!” He screams with his bottom lip jut out, dragging out the word. “How come I only have one food package? I'm also a patient, you know?!”

“You didn't request anything.” Jin says nonchalantly, shrugging.

“We've been together for years hyung! You should've known what I wanted like you did noona! This is blatant favoritism hyung!”

Seokjin ignored him, handing you a large bowl of mixed flavored fries, a large boba tea, and a plastic container where an aroma of caramelized fried chicken is leaking out of it the moment it leaves the paper bag. Next to you, Jimin scoffed, incredulous as he crossed his arms.

“She gets fried chicken, fries and boba but I only get Jajangmyeon?!”

Once again, he ignored the younger man, rolling his eyes as Taehyung bounds up to his disgruntled best friend to reveal the half occupied half empty paper beverage carrier hidden behind his back, grinning widely as Jimin’s face morphs into disbelieving betrayal.

“Wow, so this is how we do things now, huh? I can’t believe you’d do this to me when I’m a patient!”

“I’m so sorry, you poor poor thing.” Taehyung pouts as he offers out the food and Jimin spared no time in swiping the bag from him.

With their bicker finally coming to an end and Taehyung comfortably sitting crossed legs at the foot of you and Jimin’s bed, you turned to your food.

After eating nothing but bland, runny soup since the night at Jungkook’s birthday, tasting the cheddar almost made you tear up. You had taken advantage of the privilege of tasting far too long, being able to finally ingest something else felt euphoric, as if you were given the chance to walk through the garden of eden.

Exaggerated much but it's the only way you could explain the feeling.

Wasting no more time, you dug into the french fries bowl.

You hear Seokjin whisper something underneath his breath, sounding incredulous. You watched as he crossed over to Taehyung and snatched his cup, ignoring the younger man’s indignant yelp and took a sip.

Instantly, the mixed taste of cheddar and sour cream was washed away by the familiar taste of Taehyung’s heinous tea preference of illegal amounts of tea and milk. The harsh difference of the three flavors along with the texture of fries gliding on your tongue makes you gag. Your soulmates react, Jimin placing his food down to place his cupped hands under you as if trying to catch your puke while Tae flinches, about to reach over until he sees his brother already positioned to help you and turns to fetch you a glass of water instead.

“You ate too fast noona, try to chew it first.”

“You ate too fast noona, try to chew it first.” You mimic in a tone far too high to be his and Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Why are you being so annoying today?”

“I’m sorry I’m getting cranky after someone disrupted me eating—” Your words abruptly end as Jin suddenly surged in to hug you.

You look at Taehyung who’s staring longingly at his tea still in Jin’s grasp behind you before turning to a similarly perplexed Jimin mid-bite of his tteokbokki. Raising an eyebrow at him, he responds with a shrug before continuing to stuff food into his mouth.

But as you rested both hands on his shoulders, Jin suddenly sniffled.

“Jin?”

Alert, you gently push him off and your eyes meet with his misty pairs, matched with a teary smile stretching plush red lips. Your heart leapt to your throat as both his hands cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead in under a second. But instead of getting a seizure or being struck with an overwhelming amount of pain, nothing happened.

Instead a warm feeling, akin to what the rest of your soulmates caused you, wrapped around you like a thick blanket and you froze.

Then, Jin stands with an excited yip and excused himself out of the room, leaving you and the others confused.

What?

You didn't need to look at Jimin or Tae to know they all had huge question marks hanging over their heads as they stared at where they last saw their hyung disappear out of the room.

Why didn't your body react from having someone kiss your forehead while your bonds were still unsettled? From what you've read, there's always a chance of it happening, yet even if your relationship with him stretched over years, there shouldn't be any reason why he's not causing you and Jimin pain.

Unless he's also a soulmate.

Immediately you were reminded of the time he had carried you and wondered why no one ever questioned why nothing fatal had happened when he had done that in the DFA. Even if it had everyone in a flurry of panic, someone should've noticed and questioned it right? Yoongi should have at least.

There was also that one time Hoseok had held your hand in the car, it was brief but it should've done something still with a Nexus bond as complicated and huge as yours. Yet like with Seokjin, nothing happened.

“What did I just watch?” Taehyung began and you wish you had the answer. “Did I just witness my soulmate get stolen by Seokjin hyung?”

“No,” Jimin says, eyes thoughtful as he looks at you before turning to the bathroom door. “I think we just discovered that hyung is also tethered to her.”

Both your head snapped to the man next to you.

In the small amount of time you stared at your soulmate, the pieces began to click as the cogs in your mind whirs with all the possibilities before it took you back to the moment the horrendous taste of Taehyung's tea violated your tongue. Your mouth falls into an ‘o’.

“Shared Tastebuds.” You mutter.

Jimin opens his mouth to ask you to elaborate when Seokjin reenters with a doctor following behind him, red faced but the blinding wide smile he wore was enough to make you forget he was crying not a second before. The doctor next to him looked ecstatic, eyes a little crazy at the newfound discovery.

“Congratulations, it seems that also Mr. Kim here is a part of your Nexus bond!” He says a little cheerily as he hugs the clipboard close to his chest. “It would do you all well to inform the rest of the group of this finding. From a professional standpoint, I do think that Mr. Jung has a huge chance of also being a part of your Nexus.”

To say you never had doubts that the other two members were a part of your nexus would be a lie, you had hoped they were but the absence of mark manifestation symptoms made it hard to believe they’ll be one of your soulmates.

Who knew all it took to find out if you and Jin were connected was eating while in the presence of each other? If you hadn’t fainted from the lack of food and the Soulbond strain, would you have found out about it earlier?

Was he the reason you’d taste the savory taste of a well-seasoned grilled meat or the sweet fizzling taste of a soda late at night yesterday?

Or is the bond you both have will allow for long distance sense sharing? There are two types of Shared Tastebuds after all.

“The results are due today right?” Jimin asks and the doctor turns to his watch.

“This afternoon I'm sure just before you both are discharged. But,” He turns to Jin. “For now I'll be taking Mr. Kim with me to register his soulbond and involvement in your Nexus.”

When they left again, the three of you remained unmoving, stunned.

It must be Jimin’s touch that had kept you calm throughout the revelation because you didn’t know how to react. There’s no doubt joy in the hurricane of emotions swirling in your chest, as well as the pacifying effect from both your and Jimin’s touch overwhelming the rising stress and conflict at the back of your head, forcing and pushing them back into the shadows.

You knew you should be stressing over the possibilities of having seven soulmates and how you’d divide your time to be able to equally spend time with everyone, it was already difficult having five these past few days. More often than not, you found yourself suffering a headache caused by the constant noise and overwhelming sensations each individual soulmarks gave you.

From the constant sounds of Namjoon’s heartbeat at the back of your head, and Jimin’s touch making your skin thrum, even the Amoneuron in your blood is having a hard time keeping you away from soulbond hyperactivity.

Someone’s phone erupted into a shrill scream, it was Taehyung’s. Picking it up, he automatically puts it on speaker and holds the end of the phone close to his mouth.

“Is it true? Please tell me it’s not true! I’m already competing with most of my hyungs for noona’s time!”

“This isn’t a competition, gguk.” Yoongi drawled in the background. “Didn’t we already establish that? No fighting for her hear—”

“What soulmark do they have?!”

“Manager Sejin is already on the way with a lawyer to handle the legal side of things, how are you guys doing right now? Is noona good?” Namjoon asks, sounding closer to the mic.

“She didn't faint if that's what you're asking about. If anything,” Taehyung turns to you. “She looks a little out of it.”

“How did it happen? Is it the test? Is it out already?” Hoseok's voice came through, nervous.

“Yeah we'll deliver it to you later also, remember hyung complaining about tasting something weird? Apparently he was tasting the hospital special soup—”

_______

On your dismissal, the doctor had handed the eldest their test results. Seokjin had thrown him out since he already knew what it'll entail but held on protectively on Hoseok's envelope.

Jimin had proposed a small celebration for the mark's manifestation for everyone, nothing too grand, just a few take outs appropriate for tomorrow’s dinner—because Jungkook and Tae had requested pancakes and waffles for whatever reason—and a small cake.

With five—not counting Jimin as he insisted that you both sit the activity out and Hoseok who visited his sister but promised to return the next day to read his result at dinner—men at your disposal, boxing up and moving your items into their dorm was easy, even if Yoongi has noticeably slowed down the stairs carrying the same one box he’s picked up since earlier; not that you’d call him out on it but you knew Seokjin and Jimin would to do it instead.

If it wasn't for Jungkook's eagerness to have you move in, it would have taken you all longer than you had today.

It was surreal seeing the items in your home slowly decrease, the mass on your shelves and all the personality of every room disappear with every box filled. You had been staying in the same apartment since you were 21, to have its familiar sights and spots be slowly stripped off of its glow felt sadder than you thought it would be.

BigHit had requested your company friends do all the basic packing such as your clothes and products while you were at the hospital, it wasn't forced but they acted like it was anyway. They (read: Minhyuk and Nabi) had jokingly complained about being tasked with doing things your soulmates should’ve been doing, Minhyuk going as far as threatening to sneak off something into one of the boxes and you feared for your life for what that something might entail.

You offered to buy them anything they want the next time you all visit the mall in exchange for their full cooperation and Minhyuk had vowed to run your bank dry with a sly grin.

“It's not like you’d even need them anymore when you’ve got the world’s biggest boyband as your soulmates, might as well spend your hard earned money on important things; friends, especially me though.”

You wouldn't deny the fact that you tried dating Guwon with the hopes of living lavishly without lifting a finger but the world would have to bathe in fire and water before you'd let them buy you expensive things outside of food; that you accept because you'd be able to taste and experience delicious dishes. Not to mention, it's practical.

Having your furniture moved out as well was out of the question after an hour of argument with Jimin and Jin who insisted on having you buy new decorations, except for the books, trinkets, and plethora of BTS collection you were given by the members themselves every comeback.

You argued that you didn’t need them to buy new furniture when you already have working ones.

But that argument was easily disproved when the maknaes (plus you as an unwilling participant and Namjoon because: "hyung you’re big, we need to weight test it!") had jumped into your bed and the frames creaked and trembled.

He was right, as much as it pains you to accept it.

But just because he's right doesn't mean you agree with him.

In the end, with one against eventually all of them, you were due for furniture shopping with Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon the next day. Today though, you were bunking with Jimin due to the need for constant skinship and the lack of bed in your new room.

You spent the better half of the afternoon unboxing and filling your closet with your items which barely filled two shelves out of six that were bolted onto the wall of the small well-lit room.

“Noona, your closet is a bit… barren.”

“The closets are just huge, I have plenty.”

“I’m concerned that you think this is plenty.” He says, thumbing the material of your cream cardigan.

“Don't you fucking dare Park Jimin.”

He smiled. “Who says I'm the one who'll do the buying? I don’t gift clothes noona, you should know that.”

After finding out your and Jin’s soulmark, you had thought deciding what you ate for dinner until the bond settled would be a hassle or until you both learn how to disable it. But Jin had simply agreed on your choices that night with a shrug of his shoulder.

And that amount of trust in whatever you’ll pick scares you in ways you never thought it would.

It's just a simple decision, one would say, but the ugly voices at the back of your head wondered if you even deserve this amount of consideration from him when you hadn’t noticed his lingering feelings for you for years.

But it seems like that fact has long been swept under the rug when the maknaes bounded up to you with mischief in their eyes.

Upon the realization that their Jin hyung would agree to almost anything you’d eat for a while, Jungkook and Taehyung wasted no second running up to you to propose the idea of ordering you a strawberry ice cream for dessert, claiming it was the only way to test their hyung’s love for her.

“You see noona, if hyung really loves you like he said he does, he would suck it up like the man he is.” Jungkook had reasoned to you with Taehyung nodding behind him and Jimin grinning mischievously next to you.

Fortunately for Jin, you don’t think forcing him to taste strawberry flavored things on the day he found out he wasn’t untethered would be a good decision despite the loud voice at the back of your head goading you to follow through their plan for fun.

But you promised the maknaes that you’ll do it someday.

Dinner was surprisingly uneventful with a few talks about the schedule changes and the rumors Jungkook had read and heard from his small friend group outside his brothers. If it wasn’t for the soft glow of gold at the edge of your vision from where your foot is resting on top of Jimin’s under the table and the faint outline of the red string of fate stretching across to Yoongi’s right pinkie, you would’ve tricked your brain into thinking it was a normal dinner with your friends.

With the words streaming out of Jungkook’s mouth, Tae and Jimin’s additional information and the scandalous gasp and widened eyes around the table once the pieces began to form a picture, you almost thought it was an average weekly dinner with your bosses.

But soon enough, plates are taken into the kitchen and Jimin is already pulling you up to your room, saying how he wants to take a shower and that you should take your toiletries.

Something you had dreaded since you heard the doctor had sentenced you to be in constant skinship with Jimin.

Why are you even nervous?! You had seen him and his brothers in their boxers from being one of their make up artists yet your heart had been thudding loudly in your ears the moment you had entered his room with your travel bag in hand.

Turns out, there was a truth in the saying “Ignorance is bliss” in the fact that knowing something could alter the way you think and perceive even the smallest of actions. In your case, knowing Jimin's your soulmate while facing the dilemma of showering together had you completely fucked up.

On the verge of a breakdown, half a foot on the ledge and the other hanging over the fall.

You had swam in public pools with him before but it was always with the presence of others, to be alone in a small room in nothing but your undies while maintaining skinship with your soulmate—

Isn't that a bit too intimate?

Will you even survive?

To stand half naked in a minimal space alone with Jimin, your heart might just collapse.

Seeing him in his underwear shouldn't faze you as much as it should. He and the others has stripped in front of you in a haste of changing into the next costume for the next performance but in the minimal space of his bathroom where you both are secluded away from the other dwellers of the building and he's already topless and is now unbuttoning and sliding the zippers of his jorts, the mass in your throat kept on thickening with the tension in the air.

Your eyes roamed the soft, flatness of his stomach; from up his lightly freckled bare chest and down to the thin trail of hair down his abdomen. The prominent bones of his adonis belt had your throat drying up.

Seeing him topless shouldn't affect you the way it should yet you found yourself heating up at the sight of them.

When he begins to remove his pants, you force yourself to look away, cheeks burning hot as you thumb the top buttons of your—Taehyung’s—polo before beginning to undo them all with your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

The string tied to your finger lights up in a rhythmic beat, persistent and hurried. Wrapping your fingers around it, Yoongi's loud concern immediately washes over your body. You respond to him by pushing down reassurance down the lane and the thread dulls from one side.

“Did hyung contact you?”

You turn to Jimin, already stripped down to his boxers.

God is really testing you today, putting a handsome man in his underwear in front of you and tempting you to let your gaze fall down for a glimpse of his thick muscled thighs you always saw through the fabric of his skinny jeans.

“Ye-yeah, nothing to worry about though. Give me your foot, I need to remove my shirt.”

Obediently, he puts his foot forward and you step on it before making quick work of your shirt. You feel his burning gaze roam your skin and you shiver from its intensity.

By the time you had your pants pooling on the floor alongside his, your heart is thudding uncontrollably in a way that might concern Namjoon at how fast it's going.

Why is the calming effect of Jimin's touch absent when you need it?

“Ready to go?”

You almost jumped at how hoarse his voice had gotten but recovered quickly and nodded, stepping first into the shower and twisting the valve towards the hotter temperature. Jimin hissed the moment the water touched his skin, breaking the stifling tension for a moment.

“How are your skin not burning off?! It's so hot!”

You rolled your eyes. “You're being dramatic, it's not that hot.”

“It is! The mirror is literally steaming!” He exclaimed, pointing at the long horizontal mirror above the sink which is indeed, fogging up.

Jimin then leaned over, his naked chest touching your back. Goosebumps prickled your skin and you barely stopped the urge to shiver as he manipulated the valve until he was satisfied with the temperature. When he steps back, you finally let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Hearing your exhale, he laughed lightheartedly. The fucker did it on purpose.

Trying to ignore the thumps of your racing heart, you busied yourself with the task of washing your hair. You reached for the shampoo bottle and popped open the cap, body still facing the wall.

“Noona.”

You looked over your shoulder and Jimin was scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“Can I wash your hair for you?” He shyly asks, his sly attitude from earlier nonexistent. “I've never done that with someone else before. I-I’ve always wanted to do that now and now that we're soulmates, I was–I was wondering if maybe I–we could—”

“Not even with that girl you’ve dated before?”

He shook his head. “We were too busy to do something like that, noona. Idol lives and all that. It's one of the reasons why we broke up.”

“She was pretty nice though.”

His lips quirks up. “Don’t get jealous noona, you’re my soulmate after all.”

You hit his shoulder and he brought his arms up to shield himself, giggling. “Do you want to wash each other’s hair or not?!”

Despite your agreement, you were beyond nervous as you handed him the shampoo and turned around to shut the shower off. The string on your finger thrummed once more, still concerned as your heart leapt up to your throat when Jimin's fingers began to thread and scrape his nails against your scalp.

A thrill of pleasure shoots down your spine and you hold back the urge to mewl as he begins to put more pressure on his motions.

It stayed like that for a while and you reveled in the pure domesticity of it all.

When Jimin retracts his hands, you reach for his shampoo and order him to turn around.

“What if I don't want to?” He challenges with a mischievous smirk.

“If it gets in your eyes, it's your fault.”

He giggled and shrunk down to your height, to which you hit his shoulder for and he laughed, standing back up.

“Can you even reach the top of my head like this?”

“Fine but don't complain about your knees hurting, you wanted this.” You jokingly say as he bends his knees once more, a playful lilt in his eyes.

Once you lathered the shampoo enough, you began.

You’ve seen multiple couples on screen shower together and had once wondered how it’d felt having someone to help reach the spots you couldn’t as well as do those domestic things such as brushing your teeth together and just washing each other in general. The actors always made them natural and romantic, with the soft lighting bouncing off their skin and their laughter ringing in the small space.

But showering with Jimin is anything you’ve ever thought of.

Against the other members, Jimin is easily dwarfed by them, matched with the constant jokes about his height, it's easy to forget that the man is still taller than the average man. He towered over you, his eyes intense and lit with a playful sultriness. His lips twisted into a mischievous smirk as he bent his knees low enough where you could touch the top of his head without risking a stiff neck or standing on your tiptoes.

He’s peering up at you yet you feel smaller under his gaze.

He had always done this, getting into your face while you retouched his makeup. In a way, it was nice that you’re slowly regaining the normalcy

But it's not appreciated when he’s doing it when you’re already fighting demons trying so hard not to ogle at his body and explode from how flustered you are.

“Are you seriously getting flushed now noona? We’ve done this plenty of times already, why now?”

Is he seriously asking you that?

He laughed. Your thoughts must’ve reflected on your face.

“Didn’t know you’d be affected by something as normal as this. Don’t you see us naked at least every other day?” He asks with a quirk to his eyebrow and you narrowed your eyes further at him.

“You know damn well why,” You say, slapping his shoulder before turning to open the shower once more. Laughing when the water burst open above him, cutting him off from replying.

With the tension dissolving with the shampoo on his hair, a playful grin replaced the coy smirk and with his newly washed hair, he grabbed your arms in an iron grip and began to shake his head at you, flicking water from his hair and onto you.

When he was done, he then pulled you into the stream with a bubbling laugh as he watched the shampoo suds dissolve with the water. But with both your arms pinned in place, you weren't able to wipe your eyes and had them closed the moment he had you under the shower head.

“I'm—I’m going to put chili in your fucking water, I can't see!”

With sorrys in between fits of giggles, Jimin reached up to wipe your face for you when he realized this.

Shower with Jimin sailed smoothly from that point on. After his teasing, he made no more attempts to fluster you, even when he was scrubbing your back a little longer than it should've taken.

He had, however, made comments on how many steps there are for you to shower.

“Why do you need to shampoo twice, use soap AND body wash? It’s not like you’d ever get sick anymore when I’m here.”

You just rolled your eyes and told him to leave if he’s going to complain about your routine. Eventually though, you speed through your routine due to him whining about how he’s starting to feel cold, lightheaded—to which he dramatized by leaning his hurting head on your shoulder—, and is suddenly sleepy.

Changing into your pajamas was a little hard as you attempted to do it all under the safety of a towel while also maintaining skinship with Jimin every other ten seconds who's also doing the same.

You managed somehow and soon enough, you both situated yourselves into the bed, with your legs thrown over his and backreading the bangtan gc that had awakened the moment Jimin had his phone.

Surprisingly, even Jungkook was active.

[21:24] Mimi: It's so weird tae [21:24] Mimi: I’ve never seen someone use soap AND body wash THEN washes their hair t w i c e [21:24] Hoba: I do that… [21:25] Mimi: That’s expected hyung, you’re a neat freak. [21:25] You: Why are you so weird about me being clean?! [21:26] Mimi: ITS PSYCHOPATH BEHAVIOR [21:26] Jinnie: hoba I think he just called you a psychopath [21:26] Hoba: 🙁 [21:27] Ggukie: NOW YOU MADE HYUNG SAD [21:27] Hoba: 🙁 [21:27] Hoba: you think im weird jimin-ah?🙁 [21:27] Yoongs: why is this even a conversation [21:27] Joonie: Jimin just because you don’t do it, doesn’t mean it's unorthodox. [21:28] Minnie: you’re one of them, are you hyung?! [21:28] Tete: I still cant believe Jimin just showered with noona… [21:28] Tete: why are we breezing through that information? [21:28] Jinnie: ok so lets not talk about that [21:29] Jinnie: what do you want for breakfast, beautiful?

Reading his message felt like cold water dousing you awake and you’re suddenly attacked by a wave of guilt.

Is it okay for you to even make demands like this? Do you even deserve being Seokjin’s dearest?

“Ask him for waffles, I'm craving for them.” Jimin says, his voice slicing through your thoughts and you turn back to your phone.

[21:29] Ggukie: ask me too hyung! [21:29] Jinnie: alright I’ll bite [21:29] Jinnie: what do you want brat? [21:30] Ggukie: noona’s love :DD

You watched as Jin’s profile pic pop up and came down multiple times, and each time they do, your and Jimin’s giggles multiply.

[21:32] Jinnie: I’m blocking you [21:32] Joonie: I should have you kicked out for that stupid, corny ass joke oh my god [21:32] Yoongs: that activated my fight or flight [21:32] Yoongs: don’t do that again [21:32] Ggukie: hyung ask me again [21:32] Ggukie: promise I’ll respond properly this time :] [21:33] Jinnie: Y/N? [21:33] Ggukie: HYUNG [21:33] Minnie: she says she wants waffles :> [21:33] Jinnie: I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Park Jimin [21:34] Minnie: D: [21:34] You: I want scrambled eggs and pancakes :D

“Betrayal!”

“You shouldn’t have played around earlier then.”

“You shouldn’t have played around earlier then. Give me that!” You stretch your arm away from him but Jimin was faster, managing to pluck your phone from your grasp and moving to place it on his side of the floor.

Without hesitation, you launched yourself at his hand making him yelp before it dissolved into giggles when you managed to catch him and had curled up around his arm, fingers attempting to pry him away from your phone.

It was how Tae had found you both in and immediately lept in, taking your side the moment he had seen you and Jimin tussled for your phone.

With Tae’s help, you were able to take back your phone only to see that it had locked itself from the many times the screen had picked up on both you and Jimin’s palms and had typed in the wrong combination after the other. For that, you slapped his arm.

“What did I do wrong?! It’s not my fault the stupid phone couldn’t differentiate between palm and fingers!”

“If I wasn’t required to touch you, I’d have you kicked out of this room.”

Jimin pushed himself up, face incredulous. “This is literally my room.”

“Next week you should sleep in my room instead, noona. I’d love to have you there.” Taehyung says, pulling you to his chest and side-eyeing his friend. “I wouldn’t be as mean as Jiminie.”

“Why am I getting disrespected in my own room? Is it gang up on Jimin day?!”

“When is it not gang up on Jimin day?”

“Why you—GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

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#bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader poly #bts x y/n #bts x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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razrbladekiss · 28 days ago

Text

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller — Part Three

SUMMARY: joel’s misery is palpable. you’re oblivious to it. until you’re not.

PAIRING: no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.9k, you are welcum.

WARNINGS: angst. reader is an eagles fan (do NOT come for me, they are my boys. go birds 🦅). F L U F F. mentions of reader’s dad. tommy and joel are jerks, but joel redeems himself. tommy can suck a fat one. i kidddd <3 this is probably the angst-iest this story’ll get because im addicted to the fluff so. enjoy. 🤞🏼 not proof read or edited, i cannot be fucked for that.

TAGS: if you would like to be added for future installments, then let me know besties!! if i’ve forgotten anyone that’s asked to get added, then please slap me. @millersleee @goodvibesonly421 @j0elmlllers @scorpio-echo

SERIES MASTERLIST

Joel’s hands seize the steering wheel of his truck—the same one that’s presently stationed on your driveway—knuckles turning sheet white for the hold that he has is completely unforgiving. And sore.

He’s irascible. Livid. His anger is sheathed by shame and hatred for himself as the way that he conducted himself this morning was unseemly. Even for Joel, it was appalling. And though you didn’t appear to have any reservations, he knew that he bothered you. Your face didn’t allude to irritation, nor did your tone or mannerisms, but Joel was more than conscious of your internal hurt.

He just knows you that well.

But now he’s sitting—legs numb and cheeks charring red—striving to conjure up an apology that’ll help to shirk any ill-feeling that you may have toward him. Because he was a fucking jerk this morning.

And it was all because of an Eagles sweater, believe it or not.

9.42 AM

Birch Grove is bustling. It's considerably brighter, this morning. The doom and gloom that enveloped your small town yesterday has now dissipated, leaving nothing but small puddles of rainwater and grit in its wake, and it’s beautiful. A sight to behold when you’re leaving your house today.

You avoid the wetness on the road—hoping not to muddy your shoes—and bounce onto the sidewalk, admiring the oil slick that blankets damp gravel on your way over to Joel’s. You swear that there’s a divot in the concrete that holds semblance to a heart, but you’re not sure if that’s just a delusion from lack of sleep or some sort of sign from the universe telling you that perhaps it’s time to find a significant other.

Nonetheless, you take in the scene. How yesterday—in the midst of a storm—not a single body littered the crosswalk, therefore leaving Joel’s little coffee shop completely empty. But today—now that the air has cleared and rain almost dried up—it’s like nothing had even happened, and the entire town is out in force. Like they always should be.

Joel watches in awe as you make tracks across the street toward the cafe—wondering how he ever deserved such a buoyant presence like you in his life despite the fact that he’s a perpetually miserable middle-aged man—and busies himself so you don’t think he’s been ogling you this entire time.

But then the bell rings, Joel’s eyes flick up—against his own will—and you bound over the threshold with the biggest smile. He swallows extremely thickly.

“Good morning.” You say, as happy as ever—clearly on a high from your not-date—and pad through the room toward him. “Can I please have a—“

“You’re late.”

One of your perfectly tweezed brows raises.

“For work.” He elaborates. Joel clears his throat. “You’re late for work.”

“I got the day off.” You remind him. He vaguely remembers you saying something about this elusive break on Monday, but was honestly too distracted by his brother attempting to use the coffee machine.

Joel nods, taking your favorite mug off of the shelf. You smile at the sentiment.

“Ah, you’re going shopping. Right?”

You nod. Your stomach gurgles when your eyes satisfy the gaze of a perfectly plump cinnamon roll. Not too thick, not too over-done, and the right bun to icing ratio. It’s sitting—alone—in one of the little cake cases.

“I am.” You reply, taking the glass dome off of the top. Like last time, you swipe the sweet treat right from underneath Joel’s nose. Only, today, you slide two dollars across so he can’t complain.

But he wouldn’t anyway. Not today. Because he admires the fact that you’re ungovernable, while simultaneously respecting him. To an extent, anyway.

“I can get you some fall decor.”

“No—“

“He needs to spruce this place up.”

His eyes roll when he’s pouring the frothed milk atop your latte, hardly going unnoticed by his larger-than-life, sometimes a bit too overbearing brother.

Tommy acknowledges you by saying your name, and you grin back at him. It’s nice to see one of the Miller’s with anything but a stoic expression slapped against those rough, rugged features. Though there’s something about Joel’s that seems rather superficial.

Despite being perennial at times, you feel as though you’ve cracked through his tough exterior and. You’re certainly able to decipher between his real and mock revulsion. Last night was the first time that Joel’s guard had truly been down, and it was wonderful.

“Get him some pumpkins. A wreath—“

“I don’t need no pumpkins. And what the hell is a wreath?”

The youngest brother pulls a stool out next to you, and bumps your shoulder as he sits. He looks at you as if to say get a load of this guy, and you laugh. Joel passes you your latte, and you think that you see a hint of a smile tugging at those plush lips. But you won’t swear to it.

“A wreath is what Mrs. McKlaren has on her front door for each season.”

“Yeah.” Tommy chimes in. He pulls one of the Birch Grove Gazettes from the pile beside the cake case, and opens it up. “But you knew that. You’re just playin’ dumb in front of—“

You elbow him. “Quit teasin’.” Further defending your friend, you say; “it’s not his fault if he’s not too polished up on the names of things. He’s not pussy-whipped like you are, Tom.”

Joel chuckles at that comment, thanking you with a nod. A man of few words, though you get him. Down to a fine art.

“True.” He flicks through a few pages, before he’s turning to you with a grimace when you take off your jacket to reveal one of your dad’s old Eagles sweaters. “Oh, God no.”

You frown, putting it to sit on the seat next to you.

It’s common knowledge around these parts that there are two teams, and two teams only that it’s acceptable to support. Unless you’re flaunting the badge of the Texans or Dallas Cowboys, then you’re basically committing a federal crime. And the men of Birch Grove take this very, very seriously.

“Joel. I know you’re friends with this broad—“

“Watch your mouth.” He grumbles, appearing from the kitchen. He has his head down, hands full of cutlery.

“Sorry.” Tommy says oh so quietly. “But—but look. She’s wearing the mark of the devil.”

Your eyes are rolling so hard you fear that they’ll roll straight from their sockets and into your coffee. You just know that beneath the green flannel, Joel is donning an Aikman jersey.

“That’s so dramatic.” Arms are being folded over as you speak, and he still hasn’t looked in your direction. “It’s just a football team—“

“Woah.” The two Millers harmonize. Joel eyes you directly and turns his nose up as soon as he heeds the shade of green that should be classed as blasphemy, not midnight.

He didn’t know that you liked them. Tess liked them, too. But you know that. You’re not fucking stupid.

And perhaps she might’ve aided the disgust that percolates through Joel whenever he hears someone utter the name Brian Dawkins, but he can’t help associating them with her. That same way he thinks of her whenever Fall rolls around, or whenever you step into his little cafe.

He has such strong feelings for you, but needs to put them aside. He needs to bury them deep for fear of the past repeating itself because he isn’t sure if he can go through that again. His guard goes up, and eyes go down. He busies himself with cleaning.

“Sacrilege.” Tommy spits. “It’s not just a football team, woman. It’s Irreverent. To come in here and wear that is absolutely ridiculous.”

Your jaw rolls and you look down at the faded logo.

“I respect that you root for the birds, I do. It must be hard to support such a shit team—“

“Language.” Joel scolds, a little heated. “But, I agree. Can’t go wearin’ that ‘round these parts. It’s almost as bad as you comin’ in here wearing a Steelers jersey.”

Tommy grimaces. It’s not quite as bad, but it certainly sucks.

But, to you, what sucks is the fact that these men—grown fucking men—are chewing you out over a sweater. It’s child’s play.

“They’re not a shitty team. They’re great.” You defend your guys, watching Joel try to control the bitterness threatening to bust right out of his lips. “I’ve always loved them. My dad is from Philly—“

“Explains why you have such crappy taste.”

You blink at Tommy.

“Anyway.” You clear your throat. “I’ll always root for the birds, because they’re my favorites. I also, believe it or not, enjoy the Cowboys when they play at home, or against the Giants. It’s patriotic. But they are a pretty shitty team—“

“No, they ain’t.”

“They are.” You uphold, making direct eye contact with the youngest sibling. “Remind me, when was the last time they went to the Superbowl?”

Tommy’s jaw rolls, and Joel can feel himself slipping.

“Ninety-five.” Begrudgingly, he says. “But that don’t mean shit—“

“Kinda does.”

“No it don’t.” He growls. “When was the last time those damn birds won the big game, huh?”

Without missing a beat, you say; “twenty-eighteen. They beat the Patriots by eight points, Brady sucked and Foles was the MVP. I tailgated at the stadium with my dad and uncle—“

“In Minnesota?”

“Yessir.” You tell Tommy before taking the last sip of your—now lukewarm—coffee. “I’ll also be heading to Philly to see the Eagles v Steelers game.”

Joel scoffs.

“Got somethin’ to say, old timer?”

He grinds his lips together before saying; “just baffles me s’all. Don’t get how someone—Dallas born ‘n raised—can root for a team from Philadelphia.”

“Just the way it goes. But I did say that I enjoy them from time to time.”

“Shouldn’t be that way.” Tommy interjects. “Texans are meant to support Texan-made teams all the time. Not fuckin’—“

“Tommy.” Joel gestures to the customers, scolding him again for his crudeness.

You pull cash from your purse while the two of them bicker, putting atop the counter before Joel can even refuse. You shrug on your jacket, too, promptly doing up the buttons so the tension can dissipate a little. But it doesn’t.

“I’m not arguing with you two morons over football any longer.” A little meaner than intended, you tell the two of them. You turn to Joel, brows furrowing. “And I know why you despise the Eagles; I’m not an idiot. I saw her walking ‘round the place with her scarves in the winter, ‘n the occasional jersey on football Sundays.”

Tommy looks between the two of you, sensing some friction.

“Don’t project Tess’s shit onto me, Joel.” Blunt, you say. “I’m sorry that I was the reason for her leaving, but it ain’t my fault we have the same interests. You can’t pussyfoot around forever, and I don’t appreciate gettin’ admonished for a fucking football sweatshirt.”

“Don’t.” He warns, wrenching a dish rag between calloused fingertips. He knew that last night’s conversation was deep-rooted in something more than just you being curious. “I’m not pussyfootin’ ‘round. I just don’t wanna talk about her.”

“I know.” You say—realizing that you were a little too hot off the mark—but you don’t feel sorry. “But there’ll always be people who like the same things that she did, or say the same things, or remind you of her.”

He looks at you. He knows what you mean. He knows that you know that—in some kind of way—you make Joel think of her. You’re so strong, like Tess. So outspoken, exactly like her. But you’re caring and kind, and don’t get jealous over the slightest little things, and you let him speak.

You let him tell you about his troubles, not that he shares too much. And you’re not pushy. But now, it feels like you’re being exactly that.

“I’m sorry that my mere presence as a Goddamn Eagles fan pisses you off, Joel, but I’m not going to be able to change that. You’ll just have to try and detach those memories—“

The dishrag is being hurled onto the bar along with his fists. “I’m not gonna detach those memories! I ain’t gonna forget her just ‘cus you think you know me and my relationship with that woman so well! You don’t know shit. All you do is come in here ‘n drink coffee, rant about crap that nobody cares about, make me listen to your stupid fuckin’ problems—and I’m sick of it!”

You blink back tears as you stare at him, for the volume is intimidating and completely unwavering. You’ve never been yelled at before—in front of customers, by Joel—and you want to be sick. Everyone is staring. Some people are even leaving.

Has he always felt this way? You wonder. Has Joel always thought that your ramblings are pointless, and that your issues are facetious? You’re sure that he’s just spewing nonsense at this point, but it still stings.

“Joel—“

“Get out.” He looks down, hands gripping tightly the wooden countertop. He refuses eye contact.

Tommy gives you a weak smile, immediately regretting setting foot into Joel’s this morning. Quite like you, really.

“I’m really sorry for bringing her up, Joel, I know how—“

“Go.” His eyes lift to satisfy your gaze, hurt written over his features. “Please…Just leave.”

“Okay.” You nod, lifting your purse from the stool. It’s a quick bye to Tommy that has those damn tears spilling as you walk to your car, not even looking back to wave or smile at your friend like you usually do.

You fear that this’ll change the trajectory of your relationship with Joel. And his brother knows that.

He knows that if he doesn’t say something—at this point, anything—then Joel will just let this sit and fester, and become something that it has absolutely no business being.

His brother knows that you’re the only constant in his life—aside from family—and if he lets you go, then he’ll be considerably more bleak. He’ll have his patrons to keep him company, but he won’t have you. The girl that has—unbeknownst to her—given Joel something to look forward to every day.

The girl that Joel can’t help thinking of, or talking about, whenever he gets the chance. And despite not always showing his admiration, he’s besotted with you. Infatuated, perhaps. His fondness so clear that everyone can see it. Everyone, aside from you.

Especially after that.

“You’re a fucking jerk.” Tommy chastises. “She shouldn’t have mentioned Tess, but that was horrible—“

“I don’t care.” Through gritted teeth, he tells him. “She took it too far—“

“No, we did.” He admits. “She probably wouldn’t have brought the bitch up if we didn’t tease her for wearing her dad’s fuckin’ sweater.”

Joel swallows the lump in his throat, refusing to admit that Tommy could be right about this.

“You need’a get a hold of your emotions, brother. Can’t be sendin’ her away like that when we both know you’ve got feelings for her—“

Joel grumbles as he rounds the counter, polishing a few tables in hopes that his sibling will go and leave him to it. But he doesn’t.

“Can’t let Tess be the reason you two ain’t talkin’. ‘Specially ‘cus she ain’t even in the state anymore.”

Fuck. Off.

Tommy watches him feign emotion, knowing deep down that his brother wants to beat himself to a pulp because you didn’t deserve any of that.

“She’s right, y’know?”

“What?”

Tommy says your name. “She’s right. If you don’t cut ties with the things that remind you of Tess, then you’ll never be happy. Always be comparin’ shit to her, and makin’ yourself miserable. Or miserable-r.”

“That ain’t even a word, dipshit.”

“True, though.” He says. “Joel, you’re so in love with this girl, you can’t let her go over a Goddamn football team—“

“Not in love.”

“Bullshit.” The youngest spits. “You get literal heart eyes whenever you look at her, and don’t even try ‘n deny it ‘cus Maria notices too.”

Joel blinks at him, wondering how he’d been so openly vulnerable. He‘a confused at how he’d unintentionally let his guard down enough to display his feelings. The ones that he wasn’t even certain about.

“It mightn’t be love, Joel, but you’re mad about this girl.” He says a bit softer. Quieter. “And you can try to put these feelings aside, but what’re you gonna do if she walks in here with another man? Or she goes on more dates and finds the one? You just gonna live with it? Just gonna be jealous and miserable for the rest of your life?”

Joel walks to the café window and just stares for a few moments, secretly hoping to see you stomp across the street to give him a piece of your mind. But you don’t.

“Think you’ve done enough wallowin’ in the past, don’t you?”

He supposes that he’s right. Joel knows that there’s some truth to what is being said to him, and so he turns the Open sign to Closed, and gestures for Tommy to get the remaining customers to leave.

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Make things right.” Joel grabs his jacket from the coat stand beside the door, and throws the shop keys to his brother. “Close up for me, will ‘ya?”

Tommy shakes his head. He gets off of his stool and goes behind the counter, grabbing one of the aprons from the hook beside the kitchen door.

“Turn the sign back ‘round. You might’ve just lost your most loyal customer, you can’t afford to fuckin’ lose no more.”

Joel just nods. He has no fight left inside of him. He does as told, and storms across the sidewalk to his truck.

He’s been stationary for the last fuck knows how long, just mentally preparing himself for whatever bullshit will spill from his lips the second he sees you. If you even want to open your door to him. He wouldn’t blame you, if you didn’t. He gave you shit, and kicked you out when you spoke your mind. And the truth. Because, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? As harsh as it might’ve been, it was the truth and it was what he needed to hear.

It’s been two hours since getting a verbal beat-down and, strangely, he really misses the sound of your voice. The oddly dulcet tone. The sweet, honeyed rhythm that slips from between two of the plushest, softest looking lips he’s ever bared witness to in his entire life. And even though some of the words that fell from them were harsh, he no longer cares.

If he doesn’t apologize, then he might not get to hear you speak again. And he’ll take several scoldings if it means that he can listen to your beautiful tone.

Fuck.

“C’mon, dickhead.” He tells his reflection in the mirror. He eyes himself, wondering whether the hat should stay on or off. Because if he takes it off, then his hair might look bad, but if he keeps it on then you mightn’t be able to take him seriously.

He’s overthinking it.

It stays on when he’s lugging his body—warm and palpitating—from the cabin, and onto the gravel of your driveway. He minds the flower beds when his boots hit ground, knowing that he’ll have hell to pay if he crushes your blooms or kicks up any mud.

His breath is hot and heavy. It’s like he’s just ran the Boston fucking marathon, not sit in his truck for the better part of twenty minutes being too much of a pussy to knock at your front door.

But now he’s strolling to your porch, and can’t put it off any longer. He doesn’t even know if you’re home, but he guesses that you are. The wreath that you got today—golden leaves adorned with acorns and berries—is hanging proudly against the wood that you’ve painted sage.

He laughs to himself when his hand comes up to knock, number eight. It’s almost comical how the number of your house coalesces with the number of his favorite ex-Cowboys player. But he’s not going to bring that up. Maybe another time.

Joel takes a few deep breaths, heart only stuttering when he hears your footsteps approaching over the suspended wood flooring. The one that he actually had to help you sand down just eight months ago because you always felt that they looked too dark. Depressing.

He smiles weakly. It doesn’t last long. When you swing the door open and your face falls, then so does Joel’s.

“Hi.” He whispers, internally kicking himself for being such a wimp. He clears his throat. “Nice wreath.”

You fight a grin. Your disappointment outweighs any semblance of softness at this very juncture.

After a few hours of mulling it over—and rage shopping—you’ve come to the conclusion that you were at fault. But Joel certainly didn’t make it any better when he kicked you off the premises after his hurtful monologue.

“Thanks.” Your cardigan is pulled tightly around your body. Cream always looks so good on you. “Is—uh—is there something that I can help you with?”

Joel looks down for a split second. It feels like forever before he’s looking directly at you again. The thumping inside of his chest hasn’t once subsided since appearing at your street, he’s never felt like this before. At least, he can’t ever remember feeling like this.

And it’s because of this—feeling—that he’s struggling to extrapolate his inward thoughts. You heed it. You know him like the back of your hand, apparently. His face is sullen—almost remorseful—and eyes hazy.

Has he been crying? No. He’s probably just really annoyed. He looks like that sometimes when Tommy’s pissed him off, and he needs to vent.

You shift aside, gesturing for Joel to come in. He hesitates for a moment, before he’s stepping over the threshold and into your beautiful home. The home that presently smells like a mixture of Sandalwood and Lavender, but Neroli and Bergamot in the summer months.

What the fuck is Bergamot? Why do I know what that smells like?

He takes it in. The subtle scent, the fall decorations that make your cozy home look even more appeasing. It’s cute. It’s put together, clean, and inviting. It’s so you.

You shut the door behind him when he takes a few paces into the entryway, just watching him. His broad shoulders swathed in soft, green flannel are tipped slightly forward. He’s not holding himself the way that he usually does.

“Is everything okay, Joel?” You break the silence, shuffling past him through the hallway and to the kitchen. You hear him follow behind. Those heavyset footsteps make your heart ache, for some reason.

Even by the way he walks—slow, long strides—he seems down. Remorseful, perhaps. And though he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, it’s always easy to tell how he feels.

“Tea?” You offer without turning around, taking the kettle that’s just come to a boil on the stove. “I have chamomile, green, or English.”

“No coffee?” Your head shakes, pulling two mugs from the small shelf above the counter. Joel sits at your kitchen island. “How come?”

Two English teabags are being lifted from the carton—he didn’t specify, you just guess—and plopped into ceramic.

“I don’t make my own coffee. Don’t taste the same when I do.”

His heart aches. After skipping a beat, of course. He takes a seat at your kitchen island, watching you potter around, clearly not prepared for a guest.

“Tea is a little more warming, anyway.” You gesture for the sugar and he shakes his head. “Don’t enjoy coffee when I’m on my own. Only when I’m with someone.”

“That why you always come to see me in the mornin’?”

Faintly, you smile. Your head bobs a little bit, hanging low.

He says your name. You look at him. “Y’know, if you ever want a coffee outta hours, I’m usually at home. You can come ‘round, if you wanna.”

That strange gnawing sensation returns beside a debilitating thumping. He feels the same, but you don’t know that.

“Same here.” A weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you bring Joel his tea. The white ceramic is festooned with acorns and leaves, and he swears that you’ve just given him one of your best mugs.

You sip quietly your warm beverage, standing opposite to where he sits in an uncomfortable silence. A lull that neither of you realize lasts an entire minute before you’re clearing your throat, and Joel is still trying to find his words.

“Listen.” He sets down the tea—the best he’s ever had—and shifts a little bit. Joel tries to avoid eye contact with you, but understands that this is one of the times that he needs to show you just how important this is. It’s not just a casual conversation at the coffee house, anymore.

You’re facing him fully, now. Eyes wide, lips parted a little bit.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.” His tone is honest, wreathed with a hint of genuine sadness. “I had no business being such a jerkoff to you, kid. I said some hurtful shit, and I let my mouth get away from me.”

“You were a total dick, Joel.”

He nods. “I know.”

“And I know that I never shoulda brought her up, but I didn’t think you’d yell at me. In front of everyone.”

He starts to cringe as he remembers what he said. How he said those horrible things. You’re such a sweet girl, he can’t believe he flipped out on you that way.

“Do you really think that what comes outta my mouth is crap?”

“No, of course not—“

“Is everything I say fucking pointless?”

“Hon—no—no, of course not.” Joel fumbles his words a bit, just glad that he didn’t refer to you as any other embarrassing fucking pet name. He's not even sure that you caught it, what with being blinded by such a haze of anger.

You do, though. You just don’t acknowledge it.

Your thumb loops through the glossy handle, and you look into your mug.

“I choose to start each morning the same way; at your café. I don’t do it because I want to come in and ruin your day by ranting, or spillin’ my guts about shitty dates and bad friends.” You refuse eye contact, still watching the tea slosh around as you move the cup ever so slightly. “I do it because I like you, Joel. You’re a great guy, and make my days a little bit easier. I’d even go so far as to consider you one of my friends. But, if you don’t feel that way—“

“Hey.” He reaches out for your hand. He’s surprised that you don’t pull away when his tan flesh meets yours so suddenly. Joel asks you to look at him, and you oblige.

It’s so sad. Your eyes—so full of hurt—now locked on his. Soft, warm fingers wound between his thick digits. He frowns.

“Listen to me.” Stern, though soft, he tells you. “Of course I feel that way. I tell you shit that I ain’t even told my own brother, ‘course I see you as a friend. Probably the only person I’d even wanna spend time with, if I’m honest.”

“You’re just sayin’ that, ‘cus you hurt my feelings—“

“No, I ain’t.” Joel shakes his head, trying to ignore the fact that he hurt your feelings. “I’m serious.”

“As a heart attack?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo, as a heart attack.”

Eyes roll at the sentiment, wondering whether there’ll ever be a time where Joel doesn’t refer to you as kid or kiddo. He tells you that it’s because he’s a lot older than you, but you both know there’s not even a ten year gap between the pair of you. He’s just dramatic and wishing his life away.

“I’m—uh—I’m no good at this shit.” He looks down, a little curl poking through the back strap of his cap catches your eye. “Feelings, ‘n all.”

Instinctively, your thumb traces over the skin of his hand. You nod. You know.

He's not the most sentimental person—nor does he cogitate with his heart—but Joel is one of the most thoughtful men you’ve ever met, and these last few days have you feeling a different way about him. You can’t say that it’s a crush—crushes are for kids, is what your mother often tells you—but it’s certainly something.

You’re just worried about the fact that he can’t let go of Tess.

“Don’t gotta explain feelings, sweetie.” You tell him with a smile, reaching for your mug. The tea is cool, now. A little bit easier to drink than when it was piping hot and burning the roof of your mouth. “Just gotta feel ‘em, that’s all. Explain once you understand.”

You take a sip of the drink you made a short while ago, hands detaching. Joel almost feels weak without your touch, now. But he supposes that had it lasted any longer, he’d crumble.

“Always know what to say, dontcha?”

“I do.” Conceited—though completely satirical—you say. He smiles, and so do you. “But in all seriousness, Joel, I know that you appreciate me. And I know that today was a complete one-off, but I just gotta know one thing.”

“Go for it.”

You suck in a breath, hating where you’re about to lead the conversation. “Did last night make you think differently of me? Y’know, when I asked those questions and pried a little?”

Joel’s heart thumps. Again. He doesn’t know how to say yeah, last night changed everything. But not ‘cus of what you asked me.

He supposes that he can’t lie to you. He’s as transparent as a pane of fucking glass, at this point.

“No. Definitely not.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Really. You had the right to know. Nothin’ has changed.”

Liar.

He’s looking at you with those big fucking heart eyes that his brother teased him about earlier, and he knows it. He knows that he’s smitten. Truly, Joel is more than conscious of the fact that he’s falling—or more appropriately, fallen—for you, but he’s not at liberty to say.

“You can tell me, y’know?”

He nods. “I know. There’s nothin’ to tell.”

“Okay.” Your tone is skeptical. He’s lying.

He’s also been sitting here for far too long and is in desperate need of a long, cold shower to wash away the day and shirk any feelings before they come to bite him on his perfectly round ass. So he gets up—pushing the seat back beneath the island—and smiles at you.

“Left Tommy behind the counter?”

Joel nods. “Yeah. He’s probably cussin’ me out right ‘bout now.”

Your laugh is genuine. Hearty. “Best get back then, hon.”

Joel’s mouth goes dry when his lips part to speak. Nothing materializes. Not even when he’s walking to the front door—you’re hot on his heels—can he figure out what to say.

He’s opening it before he’s even certain of what he’s doing.

“Miller.” You say and he turns around. He can’t help looking directly at your lips. “I’ll see ‘ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He coughs. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He’s about to walk away—and you’re about to shut the door—before he’s leaning over the threshold and letting all rationality dissipate. Joel’s left hand meets the doorframe—mere inches from your own—and his breathing grows sporadic.

Well, now or never, I ‘spose.

Your fingers tingle, legs weaken. It’s only a split second, but it feels like an eternity that Joel is just standing there; staring at you. He’s waiting to make a move, you’re almost certain of it.

“You gonna do somethin’?” You taunt, tilting your head a little. It almost snaps him out of his anxiety-induced haze. It eggs him on, if anything.

“Fuck—shit—yeah.” Joel steps forward so that he’s no longer leaning, and the tips of his boots meet your toes. He’s careful not to stand on them. It’s sweet.

He’s sweet.

“C’mere.” He’s telling you when one of his calloused hands meets the nape of your neck, and both of yours are instinctively pawing at his chest. The soft, white jersey beneath that customary flannel is like satin against your fingertips. He draws you in closer. “I lied.”

“‘Bout what?” You whisper, letting Joel’s hand shift to your cheek. It’s hard not to melt into his touch.

His thumb brushes over your skin. You wilt beneath it.

“Last night.” Your eyes are locked. “Everythin’ has changed.”

You nod. You feel the same way.

“And I dunno how to go ‘bout this, ‘cus I can’t do this whole lovey-dovey crap, but I do know that I wanna kiss you.”

He pulls you forward so that your faces are almost touching, and your hands have no choice but to rest atop the peaks of his glorious shoulders. This is something you only could’ve dreamed of. You and Joel in this position—on your doorstep—like something out of a fucking romcom, or Gilmore Girls.

C’mon, man. Kiss her.

The man’s heart juts in his throat. Two noses graze one another—when Joel angles his face so that he’s not pushing too firmly against yours—and you can’t help smiling wide at the prospect of Joel Miller, grumpiest man in Birch Grove, taking a liking to you.

It’s almost as if your entire time with Joel flashes before your eyes—all of the early mornings and late nights spent at his coffee house, the stories shared and secrets told—and everything comes to a head in this particular moment.

Your smile doesn’t falter. Not even when his lips meet yours, and he pushes the most dulcet kiss against your mouth. It’s so gentle. Nothing more than a delicate peck, but so passionate in the sense that; the two of you need this. The tenderness of the other’s touch—the sweet, cloying taste of sugar on your tongue meshed with malt from the tea—is welcomed almost immediately, accommodated by an unexpected desire and thirst for intimacy.

And though it is but a peck, the two of you know that this is the start of something. Something completely unexplainable and somewhat unexpected, but something nonetheless.

You’re the first to pull away. He’s too enamored with you.

“Joel.” You breathe against his lips. Cheeks are flushed red, eyes hooded and completely blown with lust. “Thanks for comin’ here, and apologizing.”

“Thanks for acceptin’ my apology.” He tells you. Joel takes a step back—not before running his thumb over your skin one last time—for fear of initiating something else. “Wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t wanna.”

“Don’t go sayin’ that. ‘Course I’ll always accept your apologies.”

Joel’s heart rate must be through the roof at this point.

“Even if I run outta maple hazel syrup?”

A gasp falls from your lips and you feign anguish. You soon smile. He looks at his wristwatch, and sighs.

“I better get goin’. Left Tommy alone a while, now. Not sure if I’ll have a cafe to get back to, if I keep him any longer.”

You laugh. “Go on. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“If it hasn’t been burned to the ground, you mean?”

“Yeah, if it hasn’t been burned to the ground.”

Joel nods. He’s fishing about the pocket of his flannel for the key.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, hon.”

His cheeks heat up. “Yeah, you too, kid.”

You can’t help letting out a little ha ha when he’s getting into his truck, and you’re watching from your post against the doorframe. When he gives you a little wave, he pulls away and you’re ambling back into your hallway. Satisfied. Though somewhat confused.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the trajectory of this day, and you suppose that nothing will ever come close. You just need to figure out what happens next.

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imaginecolby · 1 year ago

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a drink and a cuddle || c.b.

summary: after a tough day, all colby wants is to come home to you.

“hey bub, am i gonna get to see you today?” you asked colby when he answered your phone call.

“i wish i had an answer. sam and i have a bunch of meetings and videos to edit today. im hoping we’ll be done by dinner so i can come over like i said i would, but im not sure.” colby sighed.

“if not, its okay.” you said softly. you didnt want to sound too upset and make colby feel bad, because you knew that he loved his job and worked so hard when he needed to. but you couldnt help yourself for missing him.

“if not tonight then tomorrow, i promise.” he said and you heard a smile in his voice.

“im holding you to it.” you laughed.

“baby, i hate to cut this short but sam and i are heading into a meeting right now. ill text you later.” he said.

“okay. have a good day. dont let yourself get too overwhelmed and take breaks when you need to. i love you.”

“i will. i love you too.” colby said, making kissing noises against the speaker. you reciprocated, said your goodbyes and hung up the phone.

you got ready for your day, finished up some work and ran a few errands. it didn’t take you that long to finish all that you needed to do, so you ended up spending the afternoon with your best friend, doing some shopping and hanging out at their house. you watched a couple of movies and as it started to get late, you made your way back to your place. just as you walked in, your phone buzzed in your pocket, a new text from colby flashing on the screen.

“hey babe, are you home? can i come over?” the text read.

“yeah, im here. come over whenever.” you replied. you freshened up and tided up the living room while you waited for colby to get there. you answered the door after colby knocked and took in his look. he was completely disheveled and looked like he hadnt slept in days. you glanced down and noticed a case of white claws under his arm.

“what's this?” you asked as you took them from and put them in the kitchen.

“i've had a rough day and all i want is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” he said as he plopped down on the sofa.

“well, room temperature drinks are no good. lucky for us, i have cold ones in the fridge.” you said as you took the case from him and put them in the refrigerator. you grabbed two cold cans and sat down with him. colby took the can from you and took a big swig as soon as he opened it. “you know my arms and always open for your cuddling needs.” your words caused a wide smile to spread across colbys face, but it didnt last long as he wiped the tiredness from his eyes.

you fixed up your pillows and blankets on the couch and lied down, holding your arms out to him. he made himself comfortable on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as you draped the blanket over your bodies.

“i love you.” colby said softly as you began playing with his hair.

“i love you too.” you said. you weren't sure if colby was ready to talk about his day, but you didnt want to push him so you and him lied there on the couch, a comfortable silence filling the room as the two of you began to slowly drift off to sleep, wrapped tightly in each others arms.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock imagines #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader

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gingerlee-holds · 6 months ago

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Letting Off Steam

this is a bday fic for @littleleesblog!! my first steps into the hazbin writing community heehee! idk if people like this one, ill write sequels about him getting charlie (me), angel, idk we'll see

btw yada yada this is a tword fic- Ler!Alastor Lee!Lucifer

Word Count: Reading Time: Warnings: Idk, swearing? Alastor bein a lil shit? barely any editing?

If you prefer a quieter living space, perhaps the Hazbin Hotel isn’t for you. Loud arguments and the commonplace occurrence of walls being blown in could make for a very harsh experience on the ears - not to mention the frequent singing. There were, however, a few locations at the hotel where it’s quiet, such as Charlie’s room, the library, and, shocking nobody, Alastor’s radio station, located on the far northern side of the hotel on the very top floor. Whenever Alastor got the chance, he stayed in that room for as long as possible during the day - usually to avoid being roped into the shenanigans of the other hotel residents.

On one particular day, however, it seemed like the radio demon couldn’t catch a damn break.

Charlie had called him to the lobby at 7 AM to settle a disagreement between Vaggie and Angel regarding “Breakfast Booze” at the bar. Then, not an hour later, Lucifer was badly practicing the accordion in the lounge. This was followed shortly after that by the TV demon, Vox, interrupting Cherri’s favorite show to deliver a laughably defamatory news segment on Alastor’s performance in his fight with Adam, accompanied by such phrases as ‘pussied out’ and ‘spineless.’ It should come as no surprise that he was already stressed when Charlie cheerfully gathered everybody in the lobby. His entire face hurt with the exertion required to keep a smile.

“Okay, everyone,” Charlie began. I was thinking, what better way to celebrate the grand opening of the newly refurbished hotel than by playing hide-and-seek?” She did a little twirl as she finished, trying vainly to excite her friends.

Angel Dust raised his hand and, not waiting to be called on, asked, “How the hell does that follow?”

Undeterred, Charlie continued. “Hide and seek is a game that requires exploration! We put a lot of work into rebuilding this place, so we should try to enjoy it! Now, who would like to seek first…?”

A hunt. Oh, what luck that on such a poor day as that, Alastor could finally stretch his legs a little and do what he did best: scare the living daylights out of people! His smile widened, and his eyes squinted like a shark when blood was in the water. He stepped forward with perfect posture as always, resting his hand on his cane. “I would be delighted to!”

“No-” Both Lucifer and Husker had begun to protest, but Charlie clapped her hands with glee. Everyone knew she was just happy to have someone invested in her activities.

“Perfect! Count to sixty, and then come look for us!”

“Oh, splendid.” The radio demon casually walked over to the wall, closing his eyes as if it mattered. Hands resting on his cane, he chuckled softly to himself. “One.” He heard silence behind him. “Two.” Again, he heard nobody move.

‘They must not be taking this seriously,’ he thought. Gradually, the sound of radio static began to hum through the lobby as Alastor’s antlers grew larger.

“Three.” Still nothing.

‘I won’t let them ruin this for me, not after today. Drastic measures, then,’ Alastor thought. He cleared his throat innocently. Then a deer call echoed around the room as he turned his head all the way around on his neck, eyes the shape of bright red dials and smile of sharp teeth impossibly wide.

“FOUR.”

It had its intended effect. All of the hotel’s residents yelped various exclamations and expletives and took off in every direction, unsure if they were now hiding for their victory in the game or their lives.

Alastor chuckled softly and turned back towards the wall, appearing normal again. He continued counting, interspacing the numbers with tunes he remembered from a past life, patting his cane to the rhythm. ‘I really should sing more often. It’s a shame I don’t often get the chance,’ he mumbled. Alastor knew he would find each hider eventually - after all, he had a lot of practice with hunting overlords - but Charlie had not mentioned a time limit, meaning he would take his sweet time to savor the silence and the hunt. When he finished counting, he decided to be a bit theatrical and sent a shockwave through the ground at the tap of his cane, instantly turning off every light in the hotel. He turned, smiled eagerly, and sank into the ground as a shadow, moving through the darkness like a cloud of smoke. ‘Now… who to look for first?’

Lucifer Morningstar, king of hell, didn’t realize how fast he was flying until about a minute after Alastor’s little scare. It upset him a little to discover how easily startled he had been, especially since he had easily beaten Adam, who had easily beaten Alastor. He sighed in annoyance as the lights above him went out, and to keep from flying into a wall, he flew to a stop, landing gracefully on the ground. With a subtle flap, his wings glowed softly, surrounding his hallway with a gentle golden light. He walked forward, not looking for a hiding spot. He had a feeling that that didn’t matter.

He suddenly felt a chill on his back. Lucifer whirled around, staring closely into the dark hallway behind him. Sensing no movement, he huffed and walked backward a bit, turning back around only to walk into the chest of the radio demon, letting out an indignant squawk.

“Ah, your highness! It seems you were the first to be found! You’re not very good at this, you know~!” Alastor said in that smug tone.

“Well, Mr. What’s-His-Name,” Lucifer replied as he wiped off the front of his suit before confidently resting both hands on his apple cane. “I’ll have you know I’m only doing this to make my daughter happy. I don’t fear you, busboy.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed in determination. There was no way he was letting any of the other hotel residents come out on the other side of this activity willing to mess with him. That meant attitude-correcting. “You know I mean no disrespect, your highness!” he said, twirling his cane in one hand while adjusting his tie. “I simply had higher expectations of you!”

“As did I for you! I cannot believe my Charlie put her faith in you of all demons to keep her safe. You had one job, and you-” Lucifer stopped when Alastor sank into the shadows again, disappearing. “Typical.” The king began walking forward again, doing all that he could to give off the impression that he wasn’t scared, but all the effort in the universe couldn’t have held back the squeak that came to his lips when he felt a poke to his side.

“Oh, my~! Someone’s a little on edge~!” came a delighted voice from the darkness. Lucifer growled in frustration and extended his wings to make the hallway as bright as daylight. Unfortunately, this is what Alastor intended, which Lucifer soon discovered when he felt claws scribbling in the pits of his wings, right on the sensitive area where they connected to his back. “Now, what an unfortunate weakness for royalty to possess~!”

Lucifer squealed, buckling over and landing on his knees on the floor. Alastor had suspected that the fallen angel was ticklish since Charlie was a walking tickle spot, but verifying it like this was nothing short of delicious for him.

“Youhuhu- youhuhuhu lihihihittle-! Cuhuhut ihihit ouhuhut!” Lucifer’s strength had left him for some reason, and he found himself powerless to defend himself from the radio demon’s attack. Giggling like a child, he tried in vain to reach around behind him to swat away the attack, but this only opened him up more. Alastor’s claws zipped around and wriggled into his ribs, causing the king to let out an outrageously embarrassing squeal. He swung around to free himself, extending his wing to fling back the demon. It made no contact as he landed with a thump on his back, his hat tossed aside.

“Ah, ah, ah~! I have to make sure you play the game better next time! After all, it’s only fair that there should be consequences for losing, especially being the first to lose!” From beneath him, hands grew from the floor to scribble into Lucifer’s wing pits again, making the fallen angel arch his back in surprise.

“DahAhahahamn yoUhUhuhUuHU!” he laughed, kicking his feet a little. He reached back again to defend himself, only to be met by his apple cane, quickly used to pin his elbows to the floor with a yelp.

“Fell for it again~! Tsk, tsk, your highness! We all must learn from our mistakes here at the Hazbin Hotel~!” Alastor suddenly materialized in front of him, leaning casually against his cane as he smugly observed the plight of the king of hell.

“Yeah, well, you’re a-” Lucifer’s taunt was cut off by his shriek when shadowy hands grew from the ground to wriggle their fingers against his ribs. Alastor’s cooing was absolutely not helping, and it took everything in him not to whine when he felt the hands undo his coat and vest, leaving him in his plain undershirt.

“There we are, now to teach you a lesson!” Alastor watched as his shadow hands continued their evil work, relishing every second of the king’s humiliation. He had ghostly digits wiggling against the ribs, scribbling in the wing pits, and he had just summoned two more hands to squeeze experimentally on the thighs, making Lucifer squeal like Angel’s pig. The fallen angel’s wings flapped on the floor, but his arms were pinned, keeping him firmly grounded.

Alastor smirked and stepped forward, leaning down to wiggle a claw against the king’s belly. “You’re far too precious to act all tough, Your Highness! Don’t worry, I’ll let the others know about this discovery of mine~!” With that, he stood tall, straightened his suit, and turned to walk away, fading into the hallway’s darkness.

“D-dohoHohn’t youhu fu-fuhuhuhCKING-!!” Lucifer couldn’t even get the words out as one final hand scribbled along his collarbone. He could do nothing but lie there on the hallway floor and laugh, hoping that Alastor would eventually have mercy. It might be a while before then since he was the first one found. Maybe he would have to put more effort into hiding next time…

Read the next part here!

#kayde wrote something woah #kayde's in a lee mood tag #ler!alastor #lee!lucifer #hazbin hotel tickles #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #tickle fluff #sfw tickling community #sfw tkl community #tword community

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kel-lance · 10 months ago

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Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 1

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.

- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.

- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.

- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/

Edit: I reread this a month later and guys oh my god. i wrote these time patches of time, right after hitting the rig, and then blacking out after a few paragraphs im sorry ill actually write this time.

You were coming back from a mission that took about 2 weeks due to traveling and tracking down a spirit as the higher ups were testing your Light Manipulation. You know it was hard for everyone the death of one of the freshmen, now you look after Nobara with Megumi.

You’re the only 3rd year and they all knew you loved your pride. Something about being the “oldest” (since the seniors are all granted weekly missions.), the authority that just made looking up at them, was just an excuse to point your nose up high, and only got depressed for a /day/ when you found out Kamo was 5 days older than you.

You’re like an older sister or mom to them, with a few exceptions. The days were leading up to the Kyoto sisterhood school match, while everyone was meeting up to train, Gojo introduces Yuuji back to everyone.

You’re all shocked to say the least. Gojo was acting normally the whole time, that bastard. “(Y/n)’s in charge of sparring today. I’ll come back later with Shoko in case Yuta’s too tired.” He teased at his baby cousin before he left. He was probably referencing to take it easy pn yuta, he probably beat his ass showing him a new technique.

You ignored him yet again and started to pair everyone up. “Nobara and Yuta, Panda and Maki, Toge and Megumi,” leaving you with Yuuji. “We’ll take it slow zombie.”

- Into the match you cursed, “Shit- he’s so durable.” But you loved that. You threw yourself back and used your fingers to catch and push yourself away from Yuuji’s next punch. “He’s a close range fighter, too.” You feel like you found your match in terms of adaptability.

You fix your stance, both legs balances one in front of the other, knees bend, your body lowers and fingers and knees bent, ready at any time to change from offense to defense. You find his eyes again and don’t dare break contact as he’s fast. Faster than you, a blink could be worse than a misstep.

This was new as you always held yourself back from seriously harming your classmates. That pride doesn’t come from nowhere. Your favorite sparring partner is Todo, because he can get close and handle/not hold back punches.

It felt like you were getting beaten with respect, not like what I want to do to my underclassmen. What good would they learn from losing a time from sitting in the infirmary so often? But this was different.

You felt like you were fighting Maki on drugs, or with cursed energy, and was face to face to Yuuji, as he pinned you down. He was almost like Todo, but you couldn’t read him since you just met.

“Where’s your pride now?” He had enough of your poking and prodding. No warm welcome, not even a nice reaction from his friends. But he knew it was serious to you, so out of respect, he’ll follow suite. He’ll show off what he learned in his training with Gojo.

“Shut up Cannibal Corpse.” You teased back, smashing your forehead into the T of his face, hoping he’d be able to take it.

He backs and stands up, hand covering his face. He stopped in a way to let you know he needed a second. Blood coming from his nose? Or his mouth?

“Oh shit, are you okay?” You stand up too, turning to yell for your medic. “Yuu-“ You’re thrown back by the scruff of your collar landing on your shoulder, butt and hands, scratching them.

“Woah, dude, look I’m sorry,” You huff, rubbing your scraped skin as you slowly stood again. “I thought you could handle it.” You tried to ease the tension, coming close to him to see if he was alright.

He doesn’t look at you, but you feel an energy forming around him. You didn’t know what this could be, his cursed energy? Why does it feel so suffocating?

“(Y/N)!” Megumi tries to get his shikigami to get you out of his proximity but they were slaughtered in a a blink of an eye.

“What the hell was going on, where is the enemy?” You quickly looked up and down, about to grab Yuuji and run.

But your face was cupped so hard your chin could’ve snapped. Pinkie was looking down at you with cold eyes. Why were you letting this happen? You were in charge, you’re the oldest. You don’t resist but give a look of what the fuck back to him.

“Sukuna! Let her Go!” Megumi screamed. The other students semi surrounding you both.

“She’s so fun, though.” Yuuji cocks a smile, your brain still trying to make sense of what’s happening and who was really in danger here. You glare harder at him, knowing if you struggled, he would like it, and that it was cause you more pain. You couldn’t freak them out anymore, you’ve gotta get this under control.

“Tell you what, since /I’m/ the oldest,” He gave your cheeks a squeeze. “I’ll take over this bonding sparring whatever ur stupid sensei said. Putting a woman in charge… ha! I’ll show you a type of bond you all can share.”

He tears off the front of your shirt, holding your body closer, but you still say nothing but feel hate for him. Trying to humiliate you in front of your classmates, like you’re not in your sports bra most of the time. It didn’t bother you that you were semi exposed, you knew you looked good, but what was the reason?

Everyone started to yell and tell him to stop, ignoring the embarrassing sight Sukuna tried to use. Of course they didn’t care about your body, they had to figure out a way to separate you both carefully. You turn to face your classmates.

“It’s okay guys, if he wanted me dead he would’ve killed me by now.” You shoot your eyes back and look glare into Sukuna’s eyes, not the same bright, round eyes you first saw before anything else. You look harder.

“Yuuji’s still in there somewhere.”

Sukuna laughs. “You guys misunderstand. I said I’m in charge,” His other arm that was holding your torso back starts to move down the curve of your body, stopping at your outer thigh and squeezing roughly. “Todays lesson is, endurance. This one here,” He holds you up by your neck, as you’re trying to use your upper body strength up get higher, to get some air but his wrists alone are strong enough for him to pick u up easily. “will stomach all I will give her.”

He brings you back down, coughing for air as licks a tear from your cheek. He reverts his eyes back to your helpless friends. “Your part now is to endure, all the way til the end, then my game can start.”

You honestly couldn’t care what he was talking about, you could take whatever ridiculous match he has set up but to involve your mates? it wasn’t a sense of pride anymore but of respect of your friends. You just met this prick, the only thing stopping you from beating his ass to hell is that you saw their reaction about his supposed death. You didn’t want to be the real reason this time, well could you?

If worse comes to worst, you should be fine. You could take a beating, you had no problem being fought by a special grade curses and even showing off before Gojo gets here. Once you get out of his grip you can get everyone to attack. You’re the only thing in the way though you wouldn’t mind being taken with him if it comes to it. how heroic would that date be.

“Interrupt at all, even think about it, and I will end them, you, then anyone else I can find after.” He says to no-one. The parasite everyone was so on edge about needed a moment to breathe?

He huffs for a second, you thought there was a light in his eyes as he tried to let you go. You soften your look when- “Ah ah ah.” Sukuna takes over again, pinning you back to him, his other hand clapping around your neck. “I said I’d end them, and then you all.” He repeats to Yuuji. “Just shut up, watch, and then I’ll go away. It’s so boring being cooped up in this brat all day.” In all this, Yuuji’s trying to fight back? He can see this? Was anyone going to tell you what the fuck was going on. “Id rather be in this one instead.”

You felt the energies around you shrink down, though, agitated. It seems they knew about what was happening to Yuuji and seeing them scared like this wasn’t really a good sign for you. They can get scared of course, but all of them? Together like this? This was not how you wanted to traumatize them, what would they learn other than powerlessness?

“Let go already, you’ll leave a mark on my neck.” You choked out.

“You don’t have the brains to worry about that after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes at him earning a slap. You fell the ground shake and your friends winced at the sound. “Fuck-“ You shot up from the ground holding your steering hot cheek, right before he kicks you back down, leaving you sprawled and confused at the assault.

You haven’t been hit like that in years. Tears weld up in your eyes and you choke on a memory that’s created this boastful monster.

Sukuna frowned, “I thought you were tougher than that. Maybe this won’t be as fun as I thought. I knew I should’ve started with the short girl over there.”

You spit at him. “Don’t touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.” You blink to clear your vision and suppress the overwhelming memory. You glare at him before finding Nobara’s eyes. If they were 2+ years younger than you, you’d joke that they’re just a kid, but Nobi, your new baby sister,Like hell you’d let anyone make her feel how you felt. She was tough like you, even tougher you thought, because of how different you were, but still ended up similar.

“Tell me have any of you tried her out yet?”

You could only look out to see your friends gritting their teeth and weapons. Panda speaks up, “She’s our best fighter.” Hoping to lead away from this devious situation. You’ve already fought them all, and won. Is kuna trying to piss you off more? You ignore his assaults, the unfamiliar hands now controlling you.

“That’s just perfect.” He pulls your hips to connect to his, and your heart stops. You can feel it.

You actually freeze this time. Is he actually going to do it? You’d rather be beaten half to death or even to death, but how hard he was behind you, it birthed a black hole in your stomach.

Your body goes limp, unconsciously submitting to him, your eyes fall, not being able to look at anyone else. Will he be quick, will they fight for me? Is this what he really wants? Or is this just the start?

He picks you up and drops you to your knees painfully, still holding onto your collar. “Don’t try to run unless u want all their heads stringed together.” He says to you.

Everyone else watches, clutching each other or their weapons tighter, trying to think of a way, when they can go in, or if they even see when Gojo was coming back .

Grabbing your chin and lifting it up, he looks down at you and smacks you again. Your ear is on fire. The strike of his finger felt like a whip onto the side of your face. He hits you again, then again, and again.

You huff, picking yourself up slowly each time. If you didn’t, he’d step on your fingers, almost trying to grind the bones inside.

Sukuna raises his hand as you stare down and with this one, he sends you to the feet of Toge, Yuta, and Panda.

They look down at you, mixed feelings of guilt, anger, sorrow,. You speak to them through swelling cheeks, “Don’t worry you guys, I’ll be even stronger after this. Get ready cause next tim-”

Sukuna comes by and grabs you by the hair, dragging you to back to your original spot, tears and blood now messing up your face.

“You look so stupid right now.” He sneers. “You should see yourself.” At this point you were exhausted from holding yourself back from beating the shit out of him.

“Everyone,” He raises his voice for an announcement. “take your phones out and take a picture from your favorite parts of the lesson, okay?”

He tilts your head towards his, takes out Yuuji’’s phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of you both. *click*

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smellss · 1 year ago

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Nudged - Sam kerr x singer!reader social media au!

summary: social media subtly is harder for some than others

notes: credit @chaosology @si’ve been obsessing over these and thought i’d try it for myself!

please let me know if you’d like to see a part two!

Part Two | Part Three

liked by taylorswift, florencepugh, y/ngirlfriendfr and 240,870

y/noffical: Can't wait to look out to the crowd and see my beloved green and gold, I'll be home soon mum 💚💛

viewallcomments

taylorswift: can't wait to be down under with you 🖤

tayschaibiccy: reputation 👀 (Taylor's version) (down under edition)

masiepeters: go girl go!

matildas: loving the green and gold ✨

y/nsmummy: matildas social media slaying as always

baby/n: mother is arriving home!!!!!

floscrockpot: Ill wonder if she'll be bringing home other mother?

baby/n: idk they haven’t posted together for a while i hope everything is okay

dailymail: we'll we've got a story for you 👀

liked by gossipgirl206, msmarypeep and 40,789

dailymail: wlw power couple Y/n L/n and Florence Pugh have supposedly been broken up for over a year! Close source says the 5 year relationship ended amicably but both women did not want to create a scandal wave of drama and decided to keep it quiet. It’s even been noted Flo is in a new relationship with co-star Cillian Murphy, whilst Y/n is keeping things let’s just say down under… 👀

viewallcomments

y/nsmummy: we’ll i don’t believe in love anymore 🔪🔥

floscrockpot: i knew y/n wasn’t good enough for flo!

taylorschaibiccy: ma’am people like you are the reason they didn’t post it and make it public smh

baby/n: mmm i smell something going on here…

goodwitchymas: wait they were dating!

liked by masiepeters, matildas, skeggs and 610,780

y/noffical: perth night 1 ✨ never been so grateful to be back in this beautiful place.

viewallcomments

masiepeters: my girls all grown up 🥺

y/nsmummy: I REPEAT SHES BACK I REPEAT

matildas: thank you for having us queen 💛💚

y/noffical: i hope you ladies enjoyed the show ❤️

baby/n: huh

hugmetightly/n: no because this is interesting

liked by baby/n, kerrsboot, tilliescup and 27,608

captainkerrupdates: Sam Kerr and the rest of the tillies spotted taking a break watching another Australian icon Y/n L/n’s concert last night in Perth.

viewallcomments

kerrsboot: how very interesting

baby/n: oh yes i do agree

sammy123: odd sam is not a very big pop fan…

y/nmummy: something tells me sam isn’t going for the music

liked by samanthakerr20, alannahkennedy and 240,800

optusstadium: Our Matilda’s warm up session this morning good to see a lot of smiles on our nations gems 💚 #FWWC23

viewallcomments

samanthakerr20: thank you for having us 💛

haleyrusso: ❤️

kerrsboot: what songs do our tillies listen to while warming up??

alannahkenndey: strawberry kisses of course

samanthakerr20: nonsense by y/n l/n 🔥

baby/n: uh sorry excuse me pardon what.

captainkerrupdates: 📸 📸📸

mackenziearnold: oh sammy

liked by samanthakerr20, baby/n and 80,890

y/nultimategossiper: Y/n’s interview with Vogue Aus today talking about her favourite sport and the Matilda’s.

mummy/n: they are so dating are you kidding me

kerrsboot: they could just be friends

sammy123: either way it’s nice to see two icons supporting each other

mummy/n: sam liked this post

kerrsboot: damn i stand corrected somethings definitely going on

samanthakerr20 started following y/noffical

y/noffical started following samanthakerr20

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #samantha kerr #wlw #social media au #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso fanfics #fanfic #20

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rweoutofthewoods · 3 months ago

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Sorry i TECHNICALLY finished the chapter of Tennessee Baby as promised last night but I just kept writing and never broke for the next chapter so if it’s a slow enough day at work today ill try to edit it and break it up during my shift. If not ill post it when I get home 🤞

#fic: tennessee baby

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jerzwriter · 7 months ago

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A Novel Concept

Ethan Ramsey is in the dog house. It's apparently clear, and his buddy, Tobias, comes in with an assist. But will his advice help or hurt Ethan's chances of getting back in Kaycee's good graces?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Characters: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 1,778

A/N: Thank you, Nonny, for this ask from the @choicesaprilchallenge24 prompt “A picnic?! Have you swallowed a romance novel?”" It went a little longer than a drabble, I hope you don't mind! (Didn't have much time to edit... so hope it's all good!)

My Masterlist

The tension in the Diagnostic Team Office was almost palpable. So palpable that Harper retreated to her office nearly an hour before. But Tobias was braver than that – or just stupid; the jury was still out.

He remained behind, his eyes darting up from his laptop every time Ethan mumbled under his breath or Kaycee let out an exaggerated sigh. Both of them assumed Tobias was doing research on their recently admitted patient, blissfully unaware of the missive he was typing, all about professionalism in the workplace and why it’s ill-advised to date your colleagues. He’d shoot that to them in an e-mail once he was sure they were in better moods. But the truth was, Tobias Carrick was nosy and was not about to leave before he got the tea. And there had to be tea!

Tobias was in on the secret, but to most, Ethan and Kaycee were the worst-kept secret in Edenbrook. On a typical day, they were all heart eyes and butterflies, but today, they barely acknowledged each other during their morning meeting, and that hadn’t changed since its end. Even Kaycee incessantly tapping her pen against the conference table hadn’t earned any commentary from the stone-faced Dr. Ramsey. Not a single sarcastic comment, endearing remark, or complaint fell from his lips.

Kaycee was the one to finally break the standoff. Standing up with a huff, she pointedly looked at Tobias and announced she was going to make her rounds. With a side-eyed glance at Ethan, she slunk out the door without another word. Tobias waited patiently for his friend to open up... but that never occurred. If the man retained water as much as he did his emotions, he’d be their next patient, not to mention a sideshow act: Edenbrook’s human blowfish! Tobias laughed at the image in his mind, finally requiring his friend to acknowledge his presence.

“Care to share what’s so amusing?” He said after clearing his throat. “Did you finally figure out the knock-knock joke Dr. Lewis told at the conference two weeks ago, or are you imagining what your latest conquest’s reaction will be when she figures out how old you really are?”

Tobias pushed back from the table with a raised brow, “Really? Do you want to go there, Ramsey? Because according to my calculations, Kaycee is about three years younger than my latest... has she figured it out yet?”

Mouth agape, Ethan was eager to change the course of the conversation. “So... what were you laughing at.”

“I was imagining you as a human blowfish.”

“You know what... remind me to never ask you what’s on your mind again. It’s too dark and scary in there.”

“As if you could resist!” Tobias laughed. “But I want to know what’s on your mind. What’s with you and my buddy MacKlennan? You could cut the tension in here with a knife this morning.”

“Nothing is going on,” Ethan said, offering no genuine attempt at being convincing.

“You’re a shitty liar, Ramsey. What did you do?”

Ethan finally looked up from his notebook. “Why do you automatically assume I’m the one to blame?”

“Because you usually are,” Tobias smirked. “Now, what’s going on?”

Ethan took off his glasses, placing them on the table with a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Kaycee is mad at me because I forgot our six-month anniversary.”

“Man,” Tobias chuckled, “You suck.”

“That’s not the worst part. See, I didn’t forget. But it happened to coincide with me coming off my second double in three days. I was so tired. I truly thought it was still a day away.”

“But that’s understandable, and Kaycee is reasonable. Why would she be so upset with you over that?”

“Probably because I followed up with ‘who celebrates six-month anniversaries anyway? High school students and people who are certain they’ll never hit the year mark.”

“Really?” Tobias glared. “All these years, and still none of my charm and charisma has rubbed off on you? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” Ethan protested. “I was exhausted and cranky.”

“YOU?” Tobias teased.

“I’ve apologized a half-dozen times, but she still barely speaks to me.”

“Well, in fairness, she’s worked a lot this week, too. I doubt either of you are your best selves right now.”

“Thank you, Mother Oprah. Now, do you have any wisdom to help me repair this situation?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, wiseass... but keep talking like that, and you can add me to the list of people barely speaking to you.”

“All right,” Ethan surrendered. “I’ll be nice...how do I fix this?”

“A sincere apology, not the half-assed shit I’m sure you’ve mustered so far... and then you’re going to have to go all out to celebrate your anniversary.”

“I’ve already made reservations at Mistral. I just don’t think she’ll want to join me at this point.”

Tobias waved a dismissive hand. “Anyone can make reservations at Mistral. You need to do something better than that,” he snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. “A picnic! Show up at her place with a picnic basket filled with her favorite treats, then take her to a pretty, secluded spot... for a small fee, I can share some of my favorite places... you may even have to pick wildflowers for her, buddy.”

“A picnic?” Ethan sneered. “Have you swallowed a romance novel?”

“Fine!” Tobias said, shutting his laptop and rising to his feet. “If you don’t want my advice, figure it out on your own.”

“Wait, wait...” Ethan softened. “I’m sorry, did I mention the sleep deprivation?”

“You did... but face it, we all know you’re still an ass when fully rested.”

“A picnic?” Ethan asked, ignoring him. “Do you really think she’d like that?”

“Chicks, dig that shit,” Tobias insisted, pulling a pen from his lab coat to jot some notes. “Here... these are some very romantic spots within driving distance, and the name of a little gourmet deli in Cambridge that will make a great lunch and pair it with the perfect wine... I can write some of my go-to lines when I need to get out of the dog house if you like?”

“No... no... I’m good. If I’m honest, I don’t think you’ve had a relationship that lasted more than three months in the past decade, so I may need a different approach.”

“Yeah, but that’s not because they didn’t want them to last longer... I think you’re missing out.”

The sound of footsteps approaching caused the men’s heads to turn toward the door, where they saw Kaycee coming down the hall.

“Shh!” Tobias ordered. “She’s back! Here’s your chance.... turn on the charm, bro. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Oblivious to Tobias, Kaycee walked up to Ethan with a look of contrition. “Ethan, we have to talk.”

“No,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I have to talk. I am so sorry for being a jerk. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve been tired and more of a curmudgeon than usual. But of course our six-month anniversary is something to be celebrated. I hope you know how much each day I’m with you means to me, and I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”

Kaycee let out a breath, and her lips twisted into a tender smile. “I mean, I kind of like the fact that you’re a curmudgeon... just not when it’s aimed directly at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing a tendril away from her face. “If you’ll forgive me, I will make it up to you.”

“Oh, will you?” she simpered. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Ethan glanced at silent Tobias, who gave him the thumbs up. “I know this quiet little spot on Spectacle Island. I thought we could go there for a picnic. I’ll get your favorite wine, some baguettes, a nice brie... chocolates for after. Maybe we can pick some flowers before, you know...”

“Really?” she asked, “That’s what you want to do? A picnic?”

“Why? Don’t you like the idea?”

“I do,” Kaycee insisted. “It’s just... it doesn’t sound like you. Did you swallow a romance novel or something?”

Ethan's eyes shoot to Tobias, who bursted into laughter.

“Tobias?” Kaycee said, finally noticing he was in the room.

“I’m sorry! I’m leaving,” he grinned. “But you two need to work whatever you’ve got going on, and do it now... because, I swear, you two... you’re perfect for each other.

Ethan smiled proudly and wrapped an arm around Kaycee’s shoulder as Tobias slunk out of the room. “He’s right, you know... we are.”

“He is,” she blushed. “But be honest... the picnic... that was his idea, not yours. Right?”

“What? Don’t you think I’m capable of planning a romantic date for you?”

“Of course you are! And you have, but did you come up with this idea?”

Ethan leaned back against his desk with a sigh, pulling Kaycee against him. “How did you know?”

“Hon, do you have any idea how many people he’s brought to Spectacle Island? The stories in the hospital are legendary.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! Nurses...doctors... the new PT assistant in pediatrics.... the communications director....”

“All right,” Ethan laughed. “I get it... so that means we won’t be making a spectacle of ourselves on Spectacle Island?”

“Well, it’s not that I’m opposed – but we can do it our way, not Tobias’s.”

“Then what do you say we go with the evening I had planned for us?”

“Oh?” She asked curiosity piqued. “And what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could get all dressed up,” he said, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Mmm... go on.”

“Dinner at Mistral?” he offered, brushing her hair away from her neck as his lips traced her newly exposed skin. “Maybe a little dancing after... so I can show you off?”

“Mmmhh,” she sighed. “And then?”

“Then we go back to my place... and we get to take off all those fancy clothes...”

Kaycee pulled back with a playful smile. “To do what, exactly, Dr. Ramsey?”

“Things that will make you forget you were ever mad at me?” he winked.

“Now... how can I resist that. When will you be picking me up?”

“Saturday? Six o’clock?”

“It’s a date,” she beamed. “And Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pretty good at this romance thing all on your own.”

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I get it,” she said, stepping away and straightening her clothes. She was at the door when she turned with a smile. “We can’t have anyone thinking you swallowed a romance novel.”

~~~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesaprilchallenge24 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart fanfic #chocies open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #choices #playchoices

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