#i assumed u meant something long that will sit with u for quite a while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years ago

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Enable ~ J.V.

A/n: There were two #8 prompts, but I already did the other one so I assumed you meant this one. I am actually so sorry this took so long ahhhh.

Request: “...number 8 with jerome? with a similar reader, just as hyper and insane as u can muster 🥰” by @lunaticsandidiots (like... so long ago. So, so long ago. Dear god.)

Prompt 8: “Y/n no-“ , “Y/n YES”

Word Count:

MASTERLIST

You know usually when people talked about having a shoulder angel or demon, they didn't mean literally. And, sure, Jerome and Bruce didn't sit on Y/n's shoulders. But if you ever wanted a more perfect example of the good one encouraging you to be better, and the nasty one breeding the worst parts of you... it really doesn't get better than this.

Y/n and Jerome had known each other for years. Y/n was a runaway who had joined the circus when they were twelve, and had stuck around ever since. Early on they'd made a friendship with Jerome, the only other kid their age. Now, six years later, they were still going strong and close as ever.

Which meant that when Jerome killed his mother, Y/n was the first to know. They hadn't participated in it but they had helped cover it up. If not for the police getting involved quite so soon they might have actually gotten away with it. But... well, Jerome had gotten caught and had left Y/n out of it completely. Suddenly he was in Arkham and Y/n was all alone again.

Y/n left the circus after that. It was too lonely, especially without Jerome. It wasn't fun anymore. It wasn't home. They settled in Gotham instead, getting a job and buying a cheap apartment as well. Once a week, on one of their days off, they'd go to Arkham and visit Jerome. The visits were nice but always too short and then Y/n would be alone again.

When Jerome busted out, Y/n was immediately out into protective custody. The fact that they insisted they didn't need it was apparently very worrying and ended up reinforcing it even more.

Y/n was in said protective custody when Jerome was killed.

They heard about it in the paper the next day. When they were released, no one could explain exactly why - they were just handed that morning's paper. They had gone back to the apartment they hadn't seen in quite a while now and they pretended it still felt like home, even with Jerome gone from the world completely. They pretended that it was okay, and for a while it was.

Then the nightmares started.

When Y/n began to wake up screaming, the cops began to be called. And from there, somehow Bruce Wayne found out about it. Y/n wasn't as surprised as they should have been when a knock on the door lead to an interaction with the young boy who shouldn't know what they were going through. But he did, so here he was, and Y/n was too in need of a distraction to discourage him.

The first conversation lead to many others, and before long Y/n's weekly visits to Arkham became weekly visits to Wayne Manor for tea time and chatting. Bruce had been there when Jerome had died, and had actually ended up front and center for most of it. Jerome had apparently mentioned Y/n in his ramblings, and when one of the cops that Bruce was friends with mentioned that calls to Y/n's address had been because of their nightmares, Bruce hadn't been able to settle his curiosity until he at least looked into it.

And look into it he did.

He wanted to know everything about Jerome and Y/n, and what kind of relationship they had. Y/n should have maybe been more cautious, but Bruce had found their weak spot - they loved nothing more than to talk about Jerome. They didn't hesitate to answer any and all questions they were asked. No detail was spared until Bruce asked them to not share it. Within a month Bruce knew everything.

Even that Y/n had run away to the circus in the first place because of their abusive parents. They had ditched the house and the family for something more fun. They ran away so they could live instead of just surviving. Jerome and Y/n understood each other on a lot of levels, but that one resonated the most.

The more they talked, the less Bruce treated Y/n like he was solving a mystery, or getting to know someone, and the more it felt like he was preparing himself for a bomb to go off. He looked at Y/n with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He shot a lot of looks at his butler, and was returned with just as many meaningful glances. They were having secret conversations and Y/n was missing them completely.

Not that they cared, though. They'd long since forgotten what normal conversations were like and really any excuse to dive into memories and hold onto the past was one Y/n was willing to take.

Eventually Bruce seemed to think that Y/n needed an anchor to reality. Their energy and unhinged nature that had been encouraged and grown by Jerome was trained and steadied by Bruce. One day they were having visits, and the next Bruce offered them a room at his place and they were practically family. Y/n felt a but like a project, and was constantly being lead one direction or the other. It was kind of annoying and took all the fun out of everything, but Y/n had always been one to go with the flow and let things happen. New experiences were always worth it, even if they sucked. Your learned no matter what happened.

So when, a year later, Jerome came back...

Jerome Valeska was standing in the living room, goons around him and his face falling off and his mind almost separate from his way of being. He didn’t remember Y/n. He just remembered Bruce. He remembered wanting to kill Bruce, and that was it.

Well that was the last straw. Bruce and Jerome went on a carnival trip and Y/n moved out of the manor and wrote everything off. No more going with the flow. No more following orders. No more experiencing just to learn. No more Jerome Valeska and no more Bruce Wayne.

Well now here they were. Y/n had gotten a job with the mayor. Just as an assistant, but it was still incredibly fun. Y/n put their own twist to it and came in every day with a chipper attitude and a wide smile. Their colorful clothes and the odds and ends they decorated their desk with set a really fun aura in the office that went ever so well with the blood that smeared on the carpet every time someone crossed Mayor Cobblepot. Blood that Y/n had gotten very skilled at cleaning.

It was like being with Jerome again, but a lot more smooth and laid back. Jerome had an energy sometimes. One that could be exhausting... one that Y/n missed if they were being honest.

Time passed. Y/n worked. Bruce tried to keep up the friendship. Jerome broke out of prison.

Wait.

Jerome broke out of prison!

Y/n tried not to get their hopes up. They really really did. But right before that the mayor went missing and ended up in Arkham and then Jerome was out and right as all of that was happening, Y/n got a call from their parents.

See, Y/n’s position with the mayor meant they had a certain level of influence. All of Oswald’s connections were also all of Y/n’s connections, and adding that with their relationship with Bruce Wayne as well... They’d gotten on TV. The second their parents had seen it they had come running, posing it as finding their long lost child even as all of their old bullshit cane rolling back in waves.

Y/n’s Old anger was coming back. A new mayor took Oswald’s place and work became painfully boring and dull. Seeing Y/n hold a stable job and reunite with their parents have Bruce the push he needed to reinforce their relationship and encourage Y/n more than ever to be a good person and blah blah blah.

It was perhaps why Y/n had ended up in the diner at all to be honest. They were trying to make sense of everything, and somehow along the way wires got crossed in their brain and in the sudden chaos their parents asked to have dinner together to catch up and...

Y/n said yes.

Now here they were, right before closing time. The man who ran the place was closing up and the food was long gone. They were just talking. Or, Y/n’s parents were. Y/n was picking at the chipping painting on the wall, eyes unfocused and brain empty as they tried to tune out the two people they hated the most. A fact they were being slowly but surely reminded of.

That was when Jerome came in.

Y/n’s eyes went wide, body freezing as air caught in their throat. They hadn’t noticed him right away. They were still a little unfocused. A little out of it. But then he spoke and their head shot around like a whip, gaze locking on Jerome immediately.

They slid out of the booth, to their parents disapproval. “Jerome?”

He turned at the sound of their voice and his eyes widened too. Seeing the recognition there was such a relief they almost cried. “Y/n.”

While Jerome was looking at Y/n, he didn’t notice the big, bulky man approaching him from behind. He didn’t even try to hide himself from Y/n, apparently assuming Y/n was just as willing to stop Jerome and prevent him from hurting the diner man as Y/n’s parents were.

Unfortunately the assumption was incorrect. They grabbed a butter knife on instinct, flinging it. It was a trick they’d learned from their time with Oswald. A lot of days had been quiet and Zsasz had gotten bored so he had taught Y/n a few tricks. Now those lessons came in hand as the blade sunk into the big man’s neck with such force that the hilt almost disappeared entirely.

Y/n’s parents screamed.

The diner man stumbled back, eyes wide with horror.

Jerome turned, saw what Y/n had done. His eyes filled with glee. “For a second there I thought you were aiming for me, old bud!” Jerome turned back to Y/n, grinning. “When did you pick that up?”

Y/n felt something release inside of them. He was here. Everything was okay again. “It’s been a while, J,” they breathed out gently, relaxing. They nodded to their parents. “The folks found me.” Jerome’s eyes landed on the quivering pair still in the booth. Y/n chuckled at the murderous look he held. “Yeah,” they agreed. “Pretty much.”

The bell over the door went off and all eyes turned to see a boy with a domino mask and a suit. Y/n recognized him immediately. It was Bruce. Someone who didn’t know him as well wouldn’t have recognized him at all, but Y/n had seen him up close for about a year and they knew him very well.

Bruce looked at the burly man, who was now dead on the floor, then at Y/n and Jerome, and the diner man, and Y/n’s parents. Jerome cocked the gun, thinking that was threat enough before he turned to Y/n. “You want to get rid of them for good?” He turned the gun around, offering the handle.

Whatever reason Bruce had been in here before, his focus immediately changed. “Y/n don’t do that.” He took a step forward and Jerome’s face twisted in disdain. “Look I know what Jerome means to you-“

But Y/n had long since had enough of listening to Bruce Wayne. “You also knew what my parents meant to me and you still encouraged me to reconnect with them.”

Bruce’s eyebrows pulled together in disapproval. “That’s not the same. Jerome is a psychopath - and a mass murderer.”

“And the fact that you think my parents weren’t bad enough to stay away from speak volumes.” Y/n shook their head. “Just because yours are dead-“

Bruce’s face tightened at the blunt reminder. He had moved closer since entering and now tackled Jerome, cutting off the conversation to focus on pinning and stopping the red head. The gun he had been offering fell to the flor and slid across the ground to rest at Y/n’s feet. As the two men wrestled and the diner man shot out the back way, Y/n picked up the gun. They held it for a second before raising it to their parents. The two people looked at him with terror in their eyes.

Y/n smiled. “Do you remember when I was young and I would look at you in this exact same way?” Neither responded at first, leaving Y/n room to slip in a cruel laugh. “We’ve come full circle.”

Their dad’s face twisted in rage. “You deserved everything we did to you.”

Something inside of Y/n snapped. Whatever tie Bruce had put around them before fell away and disappeared. Their face dropped, turning from a grin to a calm smile. Their eyes calmed, and their finger found the trigger.

Bruce’s head spun around at the sound of the clicking barrel. “Y/n no!” He shouted.

“Y/n no,” Jerome mocked, even as his face was smeared with blood.

Y/n shook their head slowly. “Y/n yes,” they whispered with ease. Two shots rung out in the diner and their parents lay there. Dead. Bruce looked on with horror as Y/n turned the barrel to face him. “Get off of him. Now.” Bruce stood, stepping away from Jerome who scrambled to Y/n’s side, giggling hysterically.

“Y/n-“ Bruce began.

“No,” Y/n snapped. But they weren’t angry anymore. In fact, their smile grew and a feral giggle slipped from them - one that matched Jerome’s perfectly. “Get out.” He cocked the gun again, tilting his head. “You only get one warning. Stay away from me. You’re just like them. You wanted to change me. To fix me. You didn’t care about ME, just the person you wanted me to be.” They scoffed. “Jerome is the only person who had ever cared about ME.” Bruce hesitated, but when Y/n let off a shot as his feet the boy scattered.

Y/n sighed in content, resting the back of the barrel in their shoulder so the gun was pointed at the ceiling. “Sorry we missed the diner man, J. Wanna go chase him down and get what you needed.”

Jerome’s grin was stunning. “Only with you by my side.”

Y/n winked. “Always, pudding.”

Jerome Taglist: @sharklight-express

#Jerome Valeska #Gotham #Cameron Monaghan #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Jerome Valeska x reader #Gotham x reader #Gotham imagine #cameron monaghan x reader #Jerome Valeska imagine #cameron monaghan imagine

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goldengoddess · 3 years ago

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hi i have a kaz x reader request!! can you do one where kaz proposes to the reader?? that seems so cute tbh

will you marry me - kaz brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x reader

a/n: i listened to helpless from the hamilton musical while writing this so do with that what you will,,,, kaz would definitely do this just so u know (idk if kaz would consider marrige but if he did this is how it would go)

warnings: nothing ?? proposals ? kaz it a tiny bit more touchy :)

kaz brekker was not one for romantic gestures, frankly he it quite the opposite. every confession of love was silent, hidden, usually given in the privacy of his room.

but he knew you.

and he knew that proposals were meant to be romantic gestures. they were meant to represent the start of a different era of love. he’d heard you tell nina about a hundred times how romantic your parents proposal had been. he’d seen the dreamy look in your eyes the time a public proposal had happened in front of the two of you.

so he was dead set on making sure his proposal to you was everything you wanted it to be. and if there was one thing dirty hands was good at, it was making a solid plan. and a couple solid back up plans.

so he was very annoyed to see your annoyed face on the morning he was going to propose to you.

you grumbled as you walked across the room to the kitchen where you could finally get some coffee. over her own mug, nina chuckled at your state. “looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed” she giggled and took a sip of what was probably hot chocolate.

you mumbled a quick ‘fuck you’ and made your way closer to kaz. you quickly planted a good morning kiss on his cheek like you always did. it was part of your routine, that way he knew it was coming and was never surprised or taken aback by the act. your grumpy mood chipped away a little at the way that kaz’s lips quirked upwards as you pulled away.

you shuffled over to the coffee pitcher just as jesper made his way into the room. he was humming something under his breath and you leaned your head closer so you could listen.

you furrowed your brows in confusion, “jesper? why are you humming the wedding song?”

he stopped in his tracks and shared a quick look with nina and then kaz. he turned to you and grinned, “no reason! just in a good mood, excited for our job later today.”

you huffed and shook your head, “at least one of us is.”

the rest of the day went by the way they always do before a big heist: slowly. it consisted of jesper running around the slat pumped up with too much adrenaline. inej taking out all of her smaller knives from their hiding spots (who knew she kept three under the couch cushions) and strapping them to her sides. wylan drawing out the outline of the mercher house one more time. matthias grumbling about the legality and necessity of what they were doing. nina sitting on his lap so he would shut up.

and kaz, your sweet kaz, going over the plan in his head while observing you.

later on, as you were all in your respective positions for the job, you couldn’t help but wonder why kaz had paired the two of you together. when the two of you had started dating, he had told you that he couldn’t trust his own instincts around you. and for that reason, you were always paired with another crow and he usually worked with jesper of inej. but not tonight.

“kaz?” you questioned, “why are you and i working together tonight?”

you didn’t notice the way his hands hesitated on the lock that he was currently trying to pick. he turned to you and your breath caught in your throat, like you were seeing him for the first time again. it was midnight, there was little light anywhere. but somehow the moonlight illuminated kaz’s face perfectly. he looked beautiful.

he shrugged and went back to his lock, “just thought it could be interesting to switch things up. this job is simple enough, nothing will go wrong.”

his words set you off slightly. your kaz would never take a chance like that. it wasn’t his style. kaz tended to ignore the odds, but never when it came to you. he’d promised a long time ago to not let his own grudges or greed put you in harms way. what was different about tonight?

before you could ask him, the lock clicked open and kaz swung the door to the hallway open. he extended his arm in invitation, “after you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him but stepped into the room. you took a deep breath and felt yourself relax at the oddly familiar scent of roses. you scanned the room and felt a smile slip into your face at the sight of yellow roses. waking closer to them, you ghosted your hands over the petals.

you looked over at kaz with a small smile, and found he was already smiling at you. “your favorite flower” he said, stepping right next to you.

you nodded your head in awe, you hadn’t seen yellow roses in a very long time. kaz dipped his hand into the vase and snapped the step of one of the flowers. he turned to you and handed you a single rose. you grinned and took the flower from him, tucking it gently into your backpack. “thank you honey” you giggled and then quietly moved down the hall.

kaz stopped you in front of a room with a golden and elaborately decorated door. he motioned for you to open the door and you nodded your head, following his instruction. when you walked in the room was practically empty. the only thing inside was a glass case at the center of the room. you tip toed closer and found a tiny jewelry box. you slowly opened the glass casing and grabbed the small jewelry box, assuming this was the ‘big prize’ kaz had claimed they would find during this job.

“open it” you heard kaz say from behind you.

so without looking at him, you opened the tiny black box. what was inside, took the air out of your lungs. it was a tiny silver ring with a shiny black stone at the center. without realizing, you let out a little gasp.

you started turning your body to face kaz, “kaz what is-”

but before you could say anything you found kaz kneeling on one knee, firmly holding onto his cane for the balance. you let out yet another gasp and nearly dropped the likely expensive ring in your hand.

“angel” he started speaking

“kaz,” you interrupted him breathlessly, “what are you doing?”

he gave you his favorite mischievous smile, the smile that didn’t quiet reach his eyes but shined playfully in his eyes. “i’m doing my best to propose darling.”

another gasp on your part.

he chuckled, “i have spent a lot of my life closing off my heart. making it impossible to reach. but then you came along and broke down my walls brick by brick. and impossibly, my heart became yours forever. so i thought it was only appropriate to put a much deserved ring on your finger. so, what do you say angel? will you marry me?”

you let out a small sniffle, happy tears falling down your cheeks. “yes! i want to marry you, i do!” you laughed happily and rushed over to kaz.

you helped him to his feet and he smiled, “excited are we? you’re not supposed to say ‘i do’ just yet darling.”

you lightly punched his shoulder. you moved your eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes, asking for permission. his grin and the quick nod of his head told you everything and you surged forward to kiss him.

after a few seconds you pulled back and you know that you’ve never smiled as brightly as you are in that moment, “you never fail to surprise me brekker. can’t believe you pulled off a fake heist just for me.”

“i’d do anything for you” he answered quickly.

“even marry me?”

“especially marry you.”

taglist;

@vintagebitc @obiwansjedi @thegirlwiththeimpala @hybrid-in-progress @mrs-brekker15 @mrsbrekkers @simplyluvzuko @ode-to-joy @gallysonegoodlung @sixofshadowandbone @castielcouldbeasecretdentist @meiitanoia @caaarstairs @itisroe @the-jess-life @xsamsharons @heavenlymidnight @wtfrae @dreamer-writer-fangirl @bookishcrows @tulipsxbooks @thehighladyofday @seven-halfbloods

if your name is in bold it means i couldn’t tag you!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #jesper fahey #six of crows imagine #grisha #nina zenik #leigh bardugo #shadow and bone imagine

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venusiangguk · 4 years ago

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hand-picked | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / famous!jk x sex worker!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, teaser, drabble

>>word count: 2.8k

>>warnings: glory hole au!!!, cocky jk, bad boy jk, stripper oc, sex work, sexual tension, awkward tension, hand job, blowjob, cumshot, cum on tits, pay for play, semi-anonymous sex, dirty talk, dishonesty... that’s it i think zzz

>>notes: if u don’t like sex workers ur ugly and i hate u 😌 also ty to @wheresmymoniat for betaing n helping me out, ily <3 *repost bc tag issues don’t mind me 🙄*

>>summary: glory holes weren’t a real thing... at least until you’re on your knees for a stranger, cock in your face, with nothing but a curtain between you.

Despite your nerves, you grasp the semi-hard cock in front of you, attached to a nameless person behind the curtain. For a moment you wonder what the hell you’re doing, but the soft sigh that you hear brings you back to the present. You stroke up and down, watching as he starts to become fully aroused. The foreskin rolls over the pink tip on every upstroke. You bite your lip. The silence is awkward, but you think maybe the whole situation is.

“So... what do you do? Like… not specifically of course, but are you an idol? An actor? You can be vague…”

Behind the curtain, Jeongguk, whom you don’t know the identity of, stiffens just a bit. Will his voice give him away? Maybe, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to boast about himself and his achievements.

“I’ve done it all,” His voice is airy, softer than he would like, but your hand on his cock is speeding up, and so is his breathing. “I’m good at all of it too.”

You hum at the man’s response. Cocky. “Isn’t saying you’re good at a lot of things just another way of saying you’re not good enough at one thing? So you have to compensate by spreading yourself thin?” You gasp a small giggle when you feel the cock in your hand jump a little at your words. “Did you like that? It wasn’t meant to be degrading, but if that’s what you’re into-“

“It’s not- that.” He doesn’t know if he’s denying your psychoanalyzation, or your keen interpretation of the way his cock reacted to your psychoanalyzation but one was more inaccurate than the other. He actually was great at most everything he did, no need to overcompensate like you assumed.

Your small hand tightens, and you rub your thumb at the underside of the head, you let out a small pleased noise when you see a bead of precum well at the tip. “Really? You’re starting to leak a little.”

You sound amused and humorous and if Jeongguk had it in him he would be annoyed or even upset at the way you’re talking to him. You were basically hired help, a means to an end. He glances down his torso at his hard cock in your tiny, well-kept manicured hands. Your nails are a dark red, burgundy color. It complements your skin well, he thinks. He can’t see much of you, just your forearms, along with the bottom part of your tummy and your legs. You’re sitting on your knees between his spread out thighs, feet tucked under you. From the tight black leggings you’re wearing and the slim-fit long sleeve white crop top you have on, Jeongguk can tell you have a good figure. Your waist is tapered in, tiny and cinched, and your hips are wide enough to accentuate it, letting him know you’ve got a petite hourglass frame. You aren’t too skinny though, there’s a softness to your body that he likes. It’s not like he needed the tight fitting clothes to know what your body looked like, though. He’s already seen more of it than he is right now. His mind flashes to the club.

You may be hired help, but you were hand-picked by him.

“It’s just-“ He contemplates what to tell you and settles for, “It’s been a while.”

“Since?” You push. You hear footsteps outside and you hand stops, scared for some reason that you’ll get caught doing something bad. As if the door wasn’t locked and being guarded. Behind the black curtain, his hips lift just barely, urging you to keep going. Don’t stop.

“Since someone’s helped me.” Jeongguk’s head rolls back when your hand starts moving again. It’s been at least a few months since he’s gotten off with someone, his hand being his only companion. After the situation blew up even more than it had in months prior, his leash was tight. No wiggle room at all. He was suffocating and desperate. He almost cried when his team propositioned this arrangement, embarrassing as it was.

When he speaks, his voice is soft and everything is said with a sigh. He sounds so relieved, like it feels so good to be in your palm, like he’s been waiting for your hand on his cock forever. You blush, and right your thoughts. You don’t even know who he is or what he looks like. Still, you ask, “Does it feel good, do you like it?” Tone soft to match his.

Jeongguk nods and swallows thickly. Eyes still closed, letting the pleasure slowly work its way through his veins. Then he remembers you can’t see him. “Yeah.” He breathes.

You hum and keep up your ministrations. Not slow, but not fast either. You’re not quite sure what he likes yet, but the soft moans that flutter through the curtain at least let you know what you’re doing isn’t wrong.

“I like your hands,” He surprises you by saying. “They’re so small; soft,” A more vocal sound falls from his lips when you twist your hand on the upstroke. He’s chuckling when he says, “Kinda strokes my ego a little bit.”

You glance at the cock in your hand. It’s pretty. Thick and pink. A pleasant kind of heavy in your hand. The veins running over it are subtle enough to not be ugly or intimidating. The only intimidating thing about it is the size. He’s big. And you’re sure he already knows that.

You snort. “I don’t think you need that stroked.”

This makes him laugh a little harder. It’s a nice sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He hums, you think you can hear a smile in his voice. It’s quiet again for just a moment before he says, “Will you- faster? Make your hand a little tighter too- yeah, like that.”

His hips sink into the chair when you comply with his requests before he’s bringing them back up, subtly thrusting into your palm. You fight back a moan; you shouldn’t be getting hot for someone you don’t even know right? This was strictly business. Still, you can’t help the slight shifting you do, squeezing your legs together for a little bit of pressure on your pussy.

Jeongguk notices. “Are you turned on?”

“No!” You squeak.

“You can touch yourself,” He offers.

“No!” You insist, “I-I’m fine.Thank you though.” You say dumbly.

He doesn’t say anything more, focuses on your hand on him, tugging just how he asked. His hand rubs over his stomach, flexing as he teases himself, his own light touches mixed with your strokes brings goosebumps over his skin. “Feels, so good.” He groans, eyes watching your hand under the curtain.

Encouraged, you bring your other hand up and massage lightly at his balls. They’re hairless, the only hair he has is the small trimmed patch above the base of his cock. He’s well kept and has good hygiene. That alone was attractive to you, stranger or not.

When you palm his balls, his legs spread as far as they can with his black cargo pants still around his calves, his big black stomper boots keeping them from being shed all the way. “Fuck,” He moans deep and loud for you. One of his hands comes down past the curtain and reaches for you before he quickly pulls it back. You think you saw a flash of ink on it, but you can’t be too sure, mind kind of fuzzy with poorly hidden arousal. The opposite hand comes into view, and your mouth parts in awe as he covers your own hand with his. It’s so much bigger than yours, completely enveloping it as he strokes himself off, using you in a way. Then again the whole arrangement was you both using each other.

“You’re mouth- put your mouth on it,” He sighs, pleasure just dripping from his lips. His cock is rock hard in both your hands, and you can tell he’s getting close.

You hesitate. “Will… will you be able to see me?”

Jeongguk comes out of his desire induced high a little bit and realizes what he said. He wants it, fuck does he want your mouth, but he probably should have asked. “No, no. I’ll lower the curtain a bit more if you want, and you don’t have to swallow. You don’t even have to suck it if you don’t want- like I know we have a thing going on but I would never like- force you I-“

He’s rambling a tad so you cut him off. “I want to, I think,” You whisper, taking in his intimidating size again, “I just- if I can’t know who you are, you can’t know who I am.” You blush feeling a little childish.

Jeongguk keeps the fact that he already knows what you look like and more or less who you are, at least on a surface level, to himself as he moves the curtain to the next lower notch, the bar resting just above his pelvis now. He can’t really see much of you at all anymore. “That’s fair, yeah, just-“ With your confirmation that you do in fact want to suck him off, he can’t keep the lustful neediness out of his voice, “Please.”

You take a deep breath as you wrap both of your hands around his cock, the tip still poking out the top. Tentatively you lick at his frenulum and the sound that comes from behind the curtain is obscene. His hips twitch and everything. You want to hear his noises, all of them, so you do it again. You flick your tongue fast over the most sensitive underpart of the head, before placing wet sucking kisses to the same area, almost making out with the tip of his cock.

“Oh my god-“ His body is pulled taut, and his hands are gripping the chair that he’s sitting in. “Fuck that’s- I love that.” He says, head dropping back, mouth open in a silent moan.

You moan against the tip of his cock, not able to hold yourself back anymore. Wrapping your lips around it, you take the head all the way into your wet, hot mouth, and suck. You lap up all the precum that leaked out, and point your tongue to play with the slit. The man behind the curtain is loud for you, letting you know just how good you’re making him feel. You get so lost in it that you don’t register him raising the curtain bar just enough for him to slip his hand past and push you off.

“S-sorry,” He says, panting, “I was about to cum.”

You make a small sound of confusion. “That’s okay, I can swallow- If you want me to.”

Jeongguk shakes his head behind the curtain. “No, I- I wanna watch… see your hands stroke me off.” His request is quiet but his cock pulses in your hand, needy and hot. Already begging for release, despite you not being at it for that long.

Wordlessly, you start stroking again, gathering the spit that’s on his tip to make the slide easier. It doesn’t take much time at all before his thighs are flexing and you can see the lower part of his abs tensing.

“Close,” He whispers.

Jeongguk watches as your tiny hands fly up and down his cock, grip tight just like he showed you. He’s doing his best to not fuck up into your hands, wanting to just rely on you and your movements, but it’s hard. Small eager little thrusts of his hips show you how ruined he is. And it’s just a handjob. He knows. If he was present enough he would probably be embarrassed by how angry and red his cock is, swollen and hot in your palm. And he’s just so wet, leaking all over the place making the strokes of your hand loud in the room.

He watches as you hunch over some, to where he can see everything below your neck, and your free hand comes up to your shirt. He sees you struggle a little bit as do your best to get the collar down under your bra, with only one hand before squeezing at your tits. “Do you want to cum on them?” You whisper.

“Fuck, please.” He whines high pitch and needy, all reservations out the window.

You hum, and work your arm faster over his cock, the rapid movements making your tits jiggle. “Do it, cum for me… cum all over my tits.”

You can’t see him, but Jeongguk’s face is lewd. Pleasure so apparent on his features, it almost looks painful. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are wet and glassy, so overwhelmed by finally getting help after so long of cumming by himself. He’s chanting soft, pornographic yeah’s and yes’s until his whole body curls in on itself, you can see the way his legs tremble as he moans, “Fuck, I’m cumming.”

He forces himself to keep his eyes somewhat open, lidded and heavy with arousal, as he shoots all over your chest. You’re moaning with him behind the curtain as you work him through his orgasm, despite no physical pleasure being given to you, and that makes another small shot of cum dribble from his spent cock. You lean forward, careful of your identity, and wipe the leftover milky substance on your already soiled skin and black bra. You slap the slowly softening cock on them for good measure and Jeongguk groans.

You keep playing with his cock, not sure if he’s the type to like it or the kind that wants you off right after he finishes, but he winces and reaches his hand under after not too long, stopping you.

“Please,” He whines.

His voice is fucked out, and your pussy aches, needy and wet in your panties. “Oh, sorry…”

He laughs lightly. “No, no. Don’t say sorry… You’re like- so good.” Jeongguk sighs to himself out of your view. He’s leaning back in the chair, while running a hand through his sweaty hair. Little tremors of pleasure are still coursing through him, when he closes his eyes, blissed out, dazed and relaxed. Finally, after months of being pent up. “So, so good.” He murmurs softly, distractedly.

His hand that reached under the bar to grab yours to stop you, is lazily rubbing over the back of your hand, hold light and subconscious against his thigh. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it and you blush, shyly pulling your hand away. He doesn’t show any sign of even noticing and you both settle into a soft quiet, only your breaths sounding in the room.

“Um.” You say eloquently.

“Fuck sorry.” Jeongguk says, scooting the chair back to put his now soft cock away. He rolls his eyes to himself. Way to get stuck in the afterglow by himself with his flaccid cock in some girls face. “Let me get you a towel.”

“Should I put the blindfold back on?” You ask.

“Uh- Yeah.” He says stilted. This is weird. You just made him cum so hard he almost knocked out, and now he’s making you cover your eyes so you don’t figure out who he is.

You hear the hesitation in the man’s voice and assure him that it’s okay, while grabbing the blindfold you tucked into the waistband of your leggings. You knew how it went, you signed the papers. Patiently you wait until you hear him coming back and sense a soft moist towel being shoved under the bar. You blindly grab it with a soft, “Thanks.”

“I’ll go wait in the bathroom so you can- I don’t know…? Get ready to go I guess.” You hear his heavy boots retreat to the bathroom, that’s located on his side of the curtain, assuring that he wouldn’t be seeing you on his way.

With the blindfold off, you go about cleaning yourself. Your knees crack when you stand up after being sat on them for so long. Wincing, you run a hand through your long hair and walk over to the table where you left your bag. You leave the used rag in its place and you shoulder the purse. About to make your way to the door, you pause.

“I’m uh- leaving?” You yell unsure.

“Okay,” He yells back through the door. “Did you- did they- your- did they give you the-“ He stutters, not sure how to ask if you got paid.

The wad of cash in your purse is heavy. Figuratively and literally. “Yeah, they did.”

“Okay… Good. I’ll um see you next time?” He sounds hesitant and shy.

You laugh. “Yeah I guess so.” And with that, you make your way out of the hotel, thinking that he sounds a whole lot less entitled and cocky than he did when you first got there.

~~~

hiii guysss! thanks for reading this lil drabble! This is kind of like a teaser for a longer fic i have on the back burner (let me know if you like the concept and want me to continue!) but i wanted to post something because i havent for a few weeks bc i have been soo busy with school pls i want to cry 🥲 i should be doing maths as i post this lmao. ANYWAY! thanks again for reading, if u liked it, pls like, comment, reblog, or even send an ask! love talking to u guys n feedback is always lovely <3

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting one

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k

notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺

There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students.

Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.

Except this one.

Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…

Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.

It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.

Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.

The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.

You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.

So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.

Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.

In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.

He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.

And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.

The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.

You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates

Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.

Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.

You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.

Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.

Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.

Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.

Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.

He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.

A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”

You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4

Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?

As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.

Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”

His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.

By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.

“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”

Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.

Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.

Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.

Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.

“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”

And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.

Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.

“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.

“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.

He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.

“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”

“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.

Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.

With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.

Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jjk♡#jjk fic #bts smut #bts fic #mine

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yoichichi · 4 years ago

Text

Sitting on Karasuno’s Lap

Karasuno(sep) x reader

warning(s): reader insecurity about size, v slight timeskip spoilers Kageyama being grumpy and stupid and some grammar issues prolly 😬 i think that’s about it but lemme know if you think I need to add anything else!

a/n: got a request for reader being apprehensive about sitting on the boys from karasuno’s lap cause of their size so this is what that is! I hope this comforts u anon ily :(

And lemme say this: all these boys would most definitely love to be smothered and cuddled under their s/o pls they quite literally live for it <3

characters: daichi, sugawara, asahi, tanaka, noya, tsukishima, yamaguchi, kageyama, hinata

Daichi

I really feel like Daichi’s the kind of guy who loves picking up his s/o when they hug

He always does the classic bear hug grip around your midsection and then before you know it he’s squatting a little and lifting you up - ur size does NOT matter, if he can get your feet off the ground even a little he’s cheesing big time

He just thinks it’s so cute when you squeal or laugh and smack his arms, and you always get a hearty laugh out of him after before he grabs your face - kind of aggressively - and is leaving silly slobbery kisses all over it :((((

So basically there’s no way you can escape his infamous hugs

BUT ANYWAYS

Because of this he’d also definitely love for you to sit on his lap too!

And because he’s always lifting you when you least expect it, when you mention why you’d rather not sit on his lap he’d respect your answer and reassure you it’s not a problem,,,, while also kind of being >:( and passive aggressively explain why you most definitely wouldn’t crush him

Now next time he comes home to you, not only is he lifting you, but he’s carrying you to your bedroom to cuddle, and then maybe you’ll sigh and give in to sitting on his lap <3

Suga

He’s generally more of a lay down cuddly or holding hands in public kinda guy

But there was something about sitting down on the couch after work and seeing you come out of the kitchen with a big smile on your face that just made his heart melt and shoot his arms out with grabby hands

Of course you oblige and sit next to him and start playing with his hands, waiting for him to talk about his day, but then he’s looking at you like :( and tugging at the hem of your shirt

“No, I want to cuddle.”

When you look at him confused he groans and tugs you onto his lap with his face buried into your neck, and almost instantly you can feel him relaxing into the couch

As soon as you think he’s relaxed enough, you go to move off him, anxious you’ve been sitting on his lap too long, but when you go to move he grabs on tighter and looks up at you like 🥺

You realize that maybe he’s just fine when he pulls you father into him - if that’s even possible - and starts to drool cause he’s passed out from being so comfy <3

Asahi

It’s pretty common for Asahi to come home from a long day at work and then rest his head on your thighs while you play with his hair and let him talk about your day

It’s something he looks forward to when he’s driving home :(

Being held and comforted by your s/o is absolute heaven to him, so when you walk through the door with a big sigh while you’re rolling your shoulders, his first thought is to return the favor !

The two of you are standing in your living room now with your head in his chest while he’s rubbing your back, periodically kissing the top of your head

“Wanna sit down angel?”

When you agreed you didn’t know that meant sitting on the couch with you straddling his lap, his hand still holding your head in his chest

But before you can protest and squirm away he’s kissing you and humming while he’s still rubbing your back and soothing you :(((

This baby wouldn’t even give you a second to think about your insecurities:(

Tanaka

He’s gonna assume somebody’s said something about you almost immediately

Cause he just can’t grasp that you yourself have decided you’re too big for him

He just kind of looks at you like 🧍🏻🤨 uhhhh sit tf down I’d like you to cuddle me please 🤨?

“Tanaka, I’ll crush you.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point babe! Smother me ☺️❣️” really does not get the message here

Once you explicitly tell him you think you’re just too big to sit on his lap he kind of freaks

Like full on grabbing your face and shaking his head trying to do anything to convince you, you most definitely are not too big to sit on his lap

Once he convinces you he’s kissing you everywhere until you giggle cause he hates seeing his baby upset :(

Noya

I’m so sorry but at first he doesn’t even comprehend it’s an insecurity you have and thinks you’re nervous about it because of his size

“Wow, never heard ‘tiny but mighty’ babe?”

Like noya baby pls, this ain’t about you 😭

Is quite literally begging you to sit on his lap at home until you get frustrated and tell him you’re worried you’ll “crush” him because of your size - not his

He’d be kind of caught off guard at first but within seconds he’s reassuring you that’s not something you need to be worried about at all, not with him

Very similar to Yamaguchi he’s gonna convince you to give in and then absolutely smother you with affection afterwards

He’s now made it his goal to change your mindset about your size and add some more positive connotation - baby boy loves you :(

Tsuki

Will not take no for an answer either 😭

AT FIRST HE TAKES IT PERSONAL NGL

LIke he’s sitting there looking at you thinking you’re commenting on his body type like “what, you think I’m built like a string bean so I can’t handle you sitting on my lap 😐.”

AGAIN, this isn’t about you babes

So once you explain to him that no, it’s not about him it’s about you, he just:

“That’s stupid.” LIKE he’s very upset that you feel that way and doesn’t know how to express to you that you aren’t gonna crush him so the only way he knows how to tell you that is that you’re stupid for thinking that way 😭

He’d try to be physically reassuring afterward though

Kissing your forehead and telling you how it makes him sad you think that way, and why don’t you just sit on his lap so he can prove that’s not the case

You’re upset and uncomfortable at first, not really being able to relax, but after some lovin from tsuki and distraction you relax into him and bit and get comfy

He definitely makes it a regular thing so you can feel more comfortable with him :(

Yamaguchi

One of the most reassuring for sure!

The moment he felt your unease or a hint of apprehensiveness at the idea of sitting on his lap he’s investigating

Holding your face in his hands and asking you what’s wrong like 🥺

When you tell him you’re insecure about being too heavy to sit on his lap he’s definitely heartbroken, but knows this isn’t about him

So he’s quickly leaving really light kisses on your cheeks and hands promising you that’s not the case whatsoever all while he’s slowly coaxing you onto his lap

Once he’s gotten you to actually do it he’s all smiley and blushing - he’s smiling so big you can actually feel it when he’s kissing you

“Mmmmm, wanna nap?”

Just overall very affirming and attentive to your feelings :(

Kageyama

If you acted any bit shy or insecure about sitting on his lap he’d be ~so so confused

He’d be home from a long day of practice and flop down on the couch and all he wants is to be smothered by his baby 😭

He’s grumpy and just kind of grunts when you sit down next to him to talk about your day and ask about his and he just kinda reaches out to you and starts grabbing at your hips and you’re like 😳 uh yes?

You wouldn’t be budging and he’d get this pout and be all “sit on my lap 😡 I wanna cuddle”

Him asking for affection so bold like this isn’t always common for him so you don’t wanna say no BUT you’re also insecure about being too heavy so you just kinda pull him towards you and shake your head

“Why don’t you lay on me instead? I’ll play with your hair hmm?”

He’d just kind of look at you like ..... but I want you to lay on me and I can play with your hair

LMAO AND NOW YALL ARE JUST LOOKING AND KIND OF GENTLY TUGGING AT EACH OTHER LIKE 😕

But unsurprisingly the 6’2 beefy professional volleyball player is stronger than you so he just stands up and PICKS you up instead and then carries you to the bedroom where he flops down with you laying on him

At first you’re kind of frustrated and insecure cause you didn’t tell him why you were avoiding it cause you didn’t want to bring it up but then you hear Kageyama sigh and start rubbing your back from his spot underneath you and you soon realize this mf just passed out

Surely if he’s ok with you LAYING on him maybe sitting on his lap next time won’t be so awful

Hinata

Another confused baby but actually realizes somethings wrong 😭

Y’all are having a simple movie night with some pals all cuddled up on the couch and he notices there’s not too much room there, unless you sit on his lap of course, which he obviously likes the idea of

The movies playing so he tugs on your shirt a little to get your attention and whispers to you about sitting on his lap

But instead of happily hopping on like he imagined, you look away and shake your head, mumbling something about paying attention to the movie

There’s people over so he knows now isn’t the right time to pry, but he can also tell when you’re even the tiniest bit upset so he’s not gonna forget to mention something to you later tonight

You two would be getting into bed that night when he’d bring it up

“Hey, did something happen today?”

You’d tell him no but unfortunately for you he doesn’t stop asking different kinds of questions until he gets you to talk about it

When you mention that you’re insecure about being too heavy for those kinds of affection he would get so so sad, like looking at you like this ☹️ nearly tearing up

Cause he just sees it as him not doing his job as your s/o to make you comfortable and happy with him - even if that’s not actually the case

He won’t stop asking always for you to cuddle him like that but he won’t pester if you say no - you will see him get a lil pouty though

——————

I hope you guys enjoyed!!

requests are open ( I miss hq pls feel free to send some in :((()

taglist: @plutowrites @sweet-darling91

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years ago

Text

OHSHC: Mitsukuni (Honey) x Fem!Reader Fluff

A/N: Okay so this was something I wrote WAY back in 2013 when I was obsessed with Ouran Highschool Host Club. So I did make a bunch of revisions (like fixing typos and changing up some of the events that occur).

But if you wanna read the original check it out on my DeviantArt!

Welp, hope ya'll enjoy this!

It was a lovely Friday afternoon. School was out and most students were eager to go home.

But you, on the other hand, decided to visit the Host Club for a few hours. You always looked forward going to it everyday after school, though not just because you desperately wanted to be swooned by handsome men.

You just liked to observe the hosts indulging in their element, be it Tamaki’s flamboyant acts or the Hitachiin twins’ performances. All the while, you drank tea and ate delicious pastries whilst chatting with other ladies who babbled about their crushes.

Most had their eyes on Tamaki, for obvious reasons, but for you there was a different host that stole your heart every time, without fail:

Mitsukuni, or “Honey” as everyone liked to call him.

You did have a slight crush on him, considering you both shared classes and hung-out quite often on the weekends. But even after all the years you’ve known him, you never actually acted on this crush, not wanting to take away his duties as a host.

Besides he might treat you extra “sweetly”, but you assumed he was like this with all the other girls.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Honey didn't see you the same way as he saw them. To him you weren't just another visitor to entertain.

He saw you as something, well, more.

........

'Okay this wasn't...what I expected. But I guess I'll have to stay for a little while longer..' You sighed as you looked down at the blonde who was now laying on your lap.

Honey must've had a sugar crash, since he fell asleep on the same sofa you so-happened to be on, even though the club meeting had ended fifteen minutes ago.

'Poor guy must be tired, running around and entertaining..he deserves at least this.' Relaxing back against the sofa, you gently stroked his hair with one hand, and kept Usa-chan wrapped around your free arm. You were sure he wouldn't mind it, given that he's let you hold it before.

All the while, you hummed a gentle song, taking note of the tiny smile that adorned his sleeping face. You knew very well that you shouldn't move, but you didn't mind it.

Being able to get this close to him made it worthwhile.

Haruhi, Mori, and Kyoya would glance over every so often while they were cleaning up, smiling at the scene. Meanwhile, Tamaki and the twins were hiding behind a nearby couch, looking at you with comically-wide eyes. They wondered how you've managed to not wake up Honey at all, and how you were so calm.

You looked over and gave them a bemused smile, waving politely. Honestly you didn't know what their deal was. They were staring at you like you were about to invoke the wrath of god.

Or in this case the wrath of the loli-shota.

"H-How does [y/n] do that?" The frenchman stammered as he gazed at the twins.

""It must be Nekozawa's sleeping magic. Maybe she's in cahoots with him."" The brothers replied, trembling too.

"You guys are acting insane." Haruhi sighed as she walked past the three with a porcelain tray in her hands. "She’s known Honey-senpai for years, so..it's obvious they're close. Doesn’t take a genius to know why she’s not afraid of him.”

"But why does she keep choosing him every time she visits?!! A-Am I somehow unworthy?!!" Tamaki cried out, already tearing up. "It makes no sense!! Mommy!! What do you make of this?!!" He swung his head to the already-annoyed Kyoya.

"Tamaki..our job here at the club is to make every girl happy, right? That includes Miss [L/n]-"

"B-But-But..she could at least give me a cha--!!"

"If you'll let me finish..." The black-haired male huffed. "Like every girl here, she has the right to choose whichever host she desires. You don't get to make that decision for her. So I suggest you keep it down, lest you wake up Honey-senpai." Fixing his glasses, he turned back to his laptop, ending the conversation.

Tamaki pouted in defeat and got up from his hiding spot. The twins followed him to where you sat and crouched down, now more curious than fearful.

"Gentlemen." You sighed quietly, waiting for them to get to the point so they could leave you alone.

"How are you able to keep so calm??" Hikaru hissed.

"We told you how he acts when his nap is disturbed.” Kaoru added. “You’re taking a big risk-”

“You’re overreacting a bit.” Finding it hard not to chuckle at their bewildered expressions, you kept your gaze on Honey instead. "I see no reason to be terrified of him waking up from a nap. People get cranky after naps all the time. But they eventually get over it, don't they?"

Then you glanced back up at the three, smiling reassuringly. "I do believe that little “horror story” you told me. But don't worry, if anything happens I'll protect you guys, okay? Nothing bad will happen to anyone here...especially not Honey.” You patted the sleeping blonde’s head.

The twins were relieved--moved, even--by your response, but Tamaki on the other hand seemed a bit freaked out by your promise to protect them. He tried grabbing your shoulders to yell about how “guys should protect girls, not the other way around”, though the duo managed to restrain him.

"B-Boss!! Cut it out!"

"You're gonna wake him!!!"

Unfortunately, the commotion they were making was exactly what stirred Honey from his rest. The three hosts immediately retreated back to their hiding place, expecting their fellow club member to awaken in rage.

But all he did was open his eyes and rub them tiredly.

"Morning, Hon." You chuckled, ruffling his hair lightly.

As he realized you were still in the same spot as before, he smiled up at you. "Did I really sleep all night, [y/n]-chan?"

"No, only for a little while." You allowed him to sit up, and you handed him Usa-chan. "Have any good dreams?"

"Hmm..yeah, I did." Honey took his rabbit plushie, legs swinging as he tried to recall the details. "I..we were at a fair with lots of cake and ice cream! Then I...o-on the ferris wheel I might've..." He hugged the rabbit closer, to the point of hiding his blushing face.

You tilted your head in curiosity. "Might've what?"

"A-Asked you out and..and k-kissed you."

His response stunned you, and you could feel your heart skip several beats. In truth you've had similar dreams, although you never did get to the kissing part--instead you'd wake up with disappointment, never knowing if he accepted your confession.

"You know I dreamed of that, too. But..I never knew what your answer would be." You sighed despondently. "No matter how much I try to fall back asleep..I can't finish that dream. It's a shame.."

He shyly looked up at you, and he set down Usa-chan before taking your hands into his own. You gazed at him with surprise, wondering what he was going to do. "Honey? What-?"

His face inched closer to yours, and before you knew it, he kissed you perfectly on the lips.

Yep! Right here and right now he was kissing you!

The kiss tasted sweet, much like his personality and all those desserts he's had throughout the day. And you were in shock that this was really happening, but you smiled into the kiss, wanting to return it before he got the wrong idea.

When you both broke apart, Honey's eyes were large and tearful. But they were happy tears. "Y-You really do like me? But..I-I thought...I was too-"

"Honey, there's nothing about you that I don't love." You chuckled. "You're a good-hearted, smart, strong, and kind man. And that's all I could ever ask for. We've been great friends for a while and...the fact we share the same dreams must mean something."

"Something like...u-us being a couple, right?"

"Exactly, and right now..I wanna make those dreams a reality. Will you help me make them so?"

He was so overjoyed that he embraced you tightly, nearly crushing your spine. But you hugged him back, resting your chin on top of his head. You could feel his vigorous nod and knew that this is what he wanted for so long.

Of course he was probably still worried about his position as a host, so you looked to the others in question. "A-Ah..I meant to ask-"

"I see no issue with this," Kyoka smiled lightly. "I trust that this newly-blossoming relationship will not interfere with club activities."

""We knew you two were gonna get together eventually."" The twins spoke in unison once more, although they were just glad that Honey didn't snap at anyone this time.

Haruhi and Mori only flashed smiles at you two, the latter happy about his cousin finally confessing to the one he loved. He’s known about it longer than anyone at the club.

Once you let go of Honey, he jumped up and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet. "Takashi!! Can [y/n] come over for the weekend??"

"Sure, why not?" The tall male nodded.

"Yaaaay--huh? Tama-chan?" Honey blinked as he noticed the only one who didn't react positively was the club leader himself, who was sulking in the corner. "Aren't you gonna say anything?"

"Yes..I'd say we're all done here," he sighed in an exasperated tone. "If [y/n]'s happiness lies with Honey-senpai then...that's how it is, I guess. The host club is dismissed. You’re all free to leave now."

Of course, that wasn't the kind of send-off anyone expected. But the other hosts left, figuring Tamaki would eventually get over it. Though you told Honey to wait outside for a moment, not wanting to end this day on a sour note.

You reentered the now empty music room, seeing the princely-type staring out the window solemnly. Part of you felt guilty for not spending more time with him, even though he was often a nuisance trying to steal your attention.

"Hey, Tamaki-senpai..I have a feeling I somehow offended you by choosing Honey over you. And I'm sorry-"

"Nonsense." He glanced back at you, the brightness returning to his violet eyes. "I'm so obsessed with trying to charm every lady that it turned me into a blind fool. Until now I never realized that, in the end, it's what makes you happy, not me. I won't get in the way of your relationship with Honey-senpai. Cross my heart."

He made a gesture to seal that promise, smiling softly. "I mean it. I'm very happy for you two and I wish you all the best."

Knowing that he wasn't angry or upset anymore, you smiled and rewarded the "king" with a peck on the cheek. He gasped lightly and stared at you, touching the spot where you kissed him.

"Thank you. It's because of you and this club that I got to know Honey even more so...I owe you at least this. Have a good weekend." You winked before you turned on your heel and ran after your new boyfriend, leaving an incredibly flustered Tamaki alone in the room.

'Ahaha..her heart may belong to another, but she took the time to repair mine.’

#ohshc x reader #ouran highschool host club x reader #honey senpai x reader #mitsukuni x reader #mitsukuni haninozuka x reader #fluff #ohshc fanfiction #ohshc #ouran high school host club #mitsukuni haninozuka #honey senpai

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Note

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now.

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too.

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy.

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English.

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke.

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that.

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her.

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest.

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over.

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language.

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing.

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly.

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors.

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest.

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay.

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together.

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions.

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately.

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes.

“I hate you, you know that right?”

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it.

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.”

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction.

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat.

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees.

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips.

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous.

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #fluff #Tom Holland angst

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Down (Pt.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you’re picked up by a kind couple who apparently have a thing for picking up hitchhikers, judging by the boy in the back seat. What started as a ride turns into a horror story.

Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS (it’s Carl and Sandy and if you are reading this, you’re damn well aware of what they do - no full on rape though! Just noncon touching), murder/ serial killers, being held at gun point, description of blood and violence, typical Carl and Sandy stuff

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: There are parts of this that are from the movie directly and I do not claim to own those parts. All other original parts are mine though!

Part 2 out now!

____________________________________

It was no secret that Sandy was unhappy with her life with Carl anymore. She wasn't quiet about it- not even to him. Any logical person would think that she'd be scared to tell her serial killer partner that she was tired of killing people but she wasn't sure if she cared about the outcome anymore. She already felt dead inside.

"Carl, I'm done."

"C'mon, Sandy. It's not that bad." Carl tried to convince his partner, looking over at her from behind the wheel.

Sandy scoffed sadly, "I don't like when they cry."

"But they take the best pictures," Carl responded insensitively. They drove on in silence for a while down the highway, ever consciously looking for their next victim. "You know what? How about we try something new, huh? We can try to make this next one a little more interesting."

Sandy rolled her eyes and stared out at the landscape as it blurred past on their trek along the highway. That wasn’t what she meant and Carl knew it. She didn’t want to make things more interesting. She wanted out. She knew it was no use arguing, though. Carl always got his way.

You stood at the edge of the road, thumb extended as the occasional car passed by, to no avail. Your car sat dead in the turn out behind you. Your duffel bag was laid down on the ground by your feet, your dark blue floral skirt blowing against the material when the breeze blew. Of all the roads to break down on, it just had to be the one in the middle of nowhere Ohio - West Virginia border where almost no cars drove past. It was beginning to get dark and your nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being stuck in the woods alone at night.

Finally, a car drove up to you and you waved your hands to get their attention, put on your nicest smile, and stuck your thumb out. The vehicle slowed to a halt beside you and you saw three people in there, a woman driving, a man rolling his window down to talk to you, and a young man in the backseat. "What's a sweet girl like you doing out here stuck on the side of the road?" The man questioned with a smile.

"My car broke down and I just need to get into town to call a mechanic." You gestured back to your old yellow Ford that had started acting up a little ways back. When you pulled over to take a look at it, it just wouldn't start up again.

He looked over at the pretty blonde lady driving, giving her a look you couldn't see but she returned one that you couldn't quite read. The man turned back to you with a smile, “Well we’re dropping this fella off in Meade but I’m sure we could drop you in the next closest town. Shouldn’t be too far if you’d like a ride.”

A smile spread across your face, “Thank you so much.” You picked up your duffel bag and hustled over to the side of the car that was bordering the road, sliding into the seat when you threw the door open.

“What a good day for makin’ new friends, huh, honey?” The man said chipperly before turning around to look at the two of you in the back seat. “What were your names?”

“Y/N.” You answered warmly, glancing over at the boy beside you who sat stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. You’d assumed he was with the couple but it seemed you may have been wrong.

He swallowed after a brief pause, his eyes widening in fear for a moment, “Arvin, sir.”

“Well, Arvin and Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Carl and this is my wife Sandy.” He patted Sandy on the shoulder and she gave him a small forced smile. Trouble in paradise, you thought. “Where you from Y/N?”

Your hands laid prim and proper in your lap, holding your skirt down from the breeze from Carl’s rolled down window, “Just a small town not too far from here actually. Barren Springs? Not many people have heard of it.”

“Can’t say I have,” Carl shook his head.

Arvin chimed in for the first time since you’d gotten in the car, “I've been through there for work before.”

“Yeah? You live nearby?” You asked, looking over at him. A blush heated your cheeks at the site of the handsome young man. His curly brown locks were messily pressed down against his head from the baseball cap that he had curled up in his lap.

Arvin just nodded a little when he made eye contact, “Coal Creek.” He swallowed hard, before his eyes darted away from yours and bounced off every moving object he could see.

“Oh, nice! I’ve only ever driven through it on the way to my grandparent’s house but it’s a cute little town.” You chipped, waiting for a response from Arvin but he only gave you a curt nod and fidgeted his hands along his legs. A thick silence settled over the car for a moment and you cast your gaze away from the attractive boy down to the mechanism that allowed the driver’s seat to adjust on the ground of the car, suddenly feeling like you overstepped with Arvin with your seemingly innocent comment.

“Looks like you’re set for a trip. You leaving or coming home?” Sandy asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror.

“Comin’ home,” You responded, replacing that polite smile and slightly higher voice you did when speaking to strangers, “A friend of mine from high school moved to Blacksburg with her sweetheart. I just went out there for their wedding.” You smiled at the memory of their ceremony. It was one of those marriages that you just knew was meant to be.

“Awe, I just love weddings.” She said dreamily, gazing nostalgically out across the road.

You smiled and made a small noise of agreement. At the thought of weddings, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea of marrying the man sitting beside you. It was silly, you knew, fantasizing about marrying a complete and total stranger. Barren Springs didn’t have many good suitors to pick from and you had yet to make it out on your own into the world. It had been a long time since you’d been physically attracted to anyone as strongly as you were attracted to Arvin. Besides, you weren’t fantasizing about marrying him, per se, but more so just having a wedding with him. The thought of seeing him so handsome and dressed up and the way his eyes would sparkle with adoration when he saw you walk down the aisle in your dress. It was ridiculous! You could have laughed at yourself. You just wanted to think that maybe there was some possibility that he thought you were half as beautiful as you thought he was.

After some time driving in silence, with you sneaking many glances at the man sitting beside you, Carl spoke up, “Oh shit, my old billy don’t work like it used to. I’m gonna have to pull over and take a leak.” He trailed off, looking over at Sandy with a smile. She gave him a sharp look but slowed down. You wondered just how often of an inconvenience this must have been if she seemed so annoyed by the request. “Is that alright by you two?” He asked a little louder, directing the question at you and Arvin.

You and Arvin both got strange looks on your face, finding it strange that he felt the need to ask if he could use the restroom. “Sure,” Arvin muttered.

“Yeah, of course.” You added, eyes flicking between the man and woman up front.

“There should be a road up here on the right,” Carl directed Sandy, “Little further. Little further. Slow down. Right here.” The car slowed and rolled to a stop, rocks crunching beneath the tires. “This is good.”

You craned your head to watch the main road disappear a few dozen feet behind you and your nerves perked up. Arvin must have noticed the way you sucked a deep breath in, louder than usual, because he glanced over at you with a look in his eyes that told you that your sudden uneasiness was not unfounded. You watched as his eyes shot back and forth between the couple and then around at your surroundings.

You began to pick at the hem of your dress. Hitchhiking was something you tried to avoid at all costs and managed to do so successfully until this very day because the idea of getting in a car with a stranger made you nervous. You knew that in all likeliness, Carl probably was just going to use the restroom and then return and you’d be on your merry way. The little indecipherable looks he and Sandy kept shooting each other didn’t escape your notice though.

“I won’t be long.” Carl reassured, opening the door and stepping out. As he did, his jacket lifted and you saw the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants clear as day and your eyes widened in silent panic.

A lot of people own guns out here, you tried to rationalize but it still didn’t sit right with you. None of this did. A rock the size of Texas sat heavy in your gut and you had an extreme urge to get as far from here as possible without raising suspicions. For one, it would be extremely awkward if you were wrong and you were freaking out over nothing. On the other hand, if they were planning to kill you, it could speed up the process before you could think up a way out of it.

You glanced over at Arvin and it was clear that he had noticed the gun as well because his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes followed Carl like a hawk watching a rabbit. Your hand slid across the seat and you nudged his leg, nodding ever so slightly towards Carl with wide implying eyes. Arvin breathed deeply and nodded, having seen exactly what you had seen. It was validating to know that Arvin didn’t feel right either but it was also even more unnerving because it meant the likelihood of danger was more likely.

Arvin rolled the window down to watch Carl more clearly and Sandy shifting up front drew your attention. You looked up to see her absentmindedly trying to light a match for the cigarette that hung between her lips. Finally, she got it lit and brought the flame to the tip of her cigarette. You watched her do this with intent, so much so that you jumped when Carl leaned through Arvin’s window and loudly announced, “Damn. That’s gonna be one fine sunset. You have to be patient with me while I get a few shots off. Hon, give me the key.”

He must have noticed the uncomfortable looks on yours and Arvin’s faces because he reassured, “Don’t you worry none. We’ve got some hooch in the back and… well, you got two pretty ladies with ya.” Carl raised his eyebrows at you and his partner before looking back at Arvin with a wink, “And Sandy’s good company.”

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the way Carl added that last part, not liking the way his tone implied certain things. Sandy turned around to shoot the pair of you a smile, one that both of you returned with a hard swallow in an attempt to not show that you were highly suspicious of whatever the hell this was. Your gaze went back to Carl, where the keys made a bulge in this back pocket and your heart fell at the sight. Those keys were your only chance of getting out of here.

The back of the car opened and you turned around to watch Carl retrieve a camera and a blanket, the gun still firmly in his waistband, before walking up to the side of the car and opening the door. Arvin flinched and looked over at Carl who motioned outside, “How ‘bout we all share a drink over this beautiful sunset. What y’all think?”

Your voice came out shaky, “Thank you but I don’t drink. It might be best if we get headin’ out sooner than later though. My ma’s expecting me home soon and I don’t wanna worry her.” Whether or not your words were lies was a moot point. Getting out of the car just felt like a bad move.

Carl shrugged, “Well, then, you can just watch the rest of us share a drink then. And don’t you worry. We’ll be on the road soon enough- just as soon as the sun sets. Your mama shouldn’t be too worried. Now why don’t you two come join us.” This time, it didn’t sound like much of a question.

Sandy had thrown her door open and stepped out onto the earth outside, slamming the door shut. You were surprised when she opened up your door and leaned against it, “C’mon, hon. You don’t have to drink any. Wouldn’t wanna miss such a pretty sunset, though, would you?”

With a partner on either side of you, you and Arvin looked at each other, knowing neither of you had a choice but to get out of the car. Reluctantly, you stepped out and walked around the back of the car towards the clearing that Carl was now leading Arvin too as well. He laid out the blanket on the ground and gestured for you and Arvin to sit down. Sandy followed shortly after with a mason jar full of a light peach liquid. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig straight from the jar, “I made it myself out o’ some strawberries I grew back home.”

“The best stuff in Ohio. My girl’s got a real gift.” Carl winked at his wife, who handed him the jar. He too took a sip before passing it to Arvin. Arvin just shook his head before murmuring a polite decline. Carl tsked, “C’mon boy. Don’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.” Arvin’s jaw tensed before he slowly took the strawberry hooch from your host and tilted it till the liquid touched his lips, though you couldn’t quite tell if he actually let any of the liquid enter his mouth or not.

He handed the jar back to Carl, not offering you any and you wondered if he was trying to respect your comment about not indulging in alcohol or if he was trying to keep you safe. Regardless, you were grateful. Carl raised the jar towards you, offering it silently, but you put your hand up, “Thank you but I’ll have to pass. I’m sure it’s delicious though.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” He said with a shrug, taking a sip himself before screwing the lid back on and setting it on the blanket.

Sandy came to sit just beside you and Arvin on the blanket, looking up at her husband who was still standing. “Wouldn’t they make a cute couple, Carl?” She pondered out loud and you couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks at the thought. Arvin shifted beside you, most likely feeling just as weird about the comment as you did.

“Now, Sandy, no need to make the poor kids uncomfortable,” He chided lightly, turning around, “But, y’know, this is a real nice picture. Do y’all mind if I take a few shots for posterity’s sake? I mean, seein’ as we probably won’t see each other again after today.”

Before you could answer, Sandy was already scooting in close to Arvin and forcefully initiating a pose, “Alright, now you,” Carl pointed at you, “Scootch in just a little closer.” Your arms shook as they lifted your body enough to move a few inches closer to Arvin. “Perfect. Now everyone smile.” You tried your hardest to force a smile but you couldn’t get one out that was worth any photo.

Carl stood up, as if he was in thought, “I’m a photographer and I would love to get some posed shots if y’all wouldn’t mind. Now, Sandy, why don’t you step back for just a moment while we get these two together. Good. Now, Arvin, you put your arm around her- good! Just like that.”

Arvin awkwardly placed his arm on the ground behind your back, just close enough to look like the two of you were leaning into each other. Carl pulled away from the camera with a smile, “Sandy is right. You two would make a cute couple. Now, Sandy, why you don’t hop back in there. Perfect.”

Carl paused for a moment to ponder his next pose, “Now, Arvin, why don’t you lean back and touch my wife. Y/N, I want you to kiss him while he does it.”

The instructions slipped from his lips with such little reservation that you were convinced you misheard him for a moment. The man had been fairly polite thus far, if not a bit odd with his quips and pryingly friendly remarks, so the bluntness with which he just told you and Arvin to perform semi-sexual acts on each other and his wife took you off guard. “Excuse me?” You shrank back, ripping your body away from Arvin and Sandy with a velocity that almost jolted you.

When you did, your hand grazed a large patch of skin that had previously been covered with her fuzzy cheetah print coat. You whipped around to see her sitting behind you in nothing but her underwear and you quickly realized that you had grazed just beneath her bare breast. “What the fuck!” You jumped, moving away from the nearly nude woman.

Arvin jumped when her hand rested on his shoulder and moved away as well, looking between the man and woman who clearly saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we’re leaving.” Arvin pressed with a firm voice, standing up and offering his hand to you, pulling you up to almost be tucked into his side, his hand staying on your arm protectively.

Carl looked at him like he was some naive boy. “Boy, I’m giving you the opportunity to fuck my wife and that beautiful girl over there while I take pictures. You’re a damned fool if you turn this down.”

“You guys are sick. I will not be having sex with anyone here today!” You exclaimed indignantly at Carl’s implication that you were going to be just fine with this.

The older man looked over to you and waved his hand with a cocky knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you lookin’ at ‘im the whole drive. You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to make love to this boy right here? And what about my wife? You ever been with a woman?” Carl asked, eyes flicking back to Sandy, who wiggled her breasts and gave you a comforting look that told you she would help you through whatever experience you may have lacked.

You found yourself stepping backwards, away from Arvin even. Your head shook, a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and embarrassment burning inside you, “I-I-I already told you. I ain’t doing no-”

Words failed when Carl reached behind him and pulled out the gun you’d noticed earlier, pointing it right at your chest, “Now look, I hate pointin’ a gun at a pretty young thing like yourself but I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t start doin’ what I say. You and my wife are gonna give this boy the best time of his life and I’m gonna take pictures while you do it. That’s it. You understand?”

The world around you seemed to freeze while you stared down the barrel of his pistol. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Sandy moved closer to you, her lips coming to your neck in a gentle kiss that made your skin crawl. A single tear rolled down your cheek while you stared at the gun that was still pointed at you, Sandy’s hand moving to brush your hair off your neck so she had more access. There was nothing you could do. If you made any move to shove her off, he’d shoot you. If you made a move to run, he’d shoot you. If you tried to knock the gun out of his hand, he’d shoot you. All you could do for the time being was let Sandy do what she would until you could find the right moment to disarm Carl and get the hell out of here.

She looked up at Arvin with sultry eyes over your shoulder, “C’mon, Arvin. You ever thought about being with two women at once before?”

Arvin swallowed hard as he watched how you sat with tears welling in your eyes, trying your hardest not to break in this impossible situation. He stood in seething anger and fear, his heart breaking a little when your hands snapped up to grab her wrists as her hands crept around your front and unpopped the top two buttons of your blouse.

There was a click from Carl cocking the pistol and he took a step closer to you, “I told you I would shoot you if you don’t start playin’ along. This is your last warning. You’re testing my patience, girl.” Your legs were nearly giving out on you when Sandy popped open another two buttons, your bra clearly exposed for everyone to see. Your shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go before disappearing into the waistband of your skirt where it was tucked in.

Arvin looked away from your exposed upper body, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable and violated than you already were. Suddenly, there was a small flash and the click of a camera and Arvin snapped his focus over to Carl to see him snapping pictures of you, half nude and trying not to fall apart. A coil of pure hatred had been building in Arvin since the first direction of sexual acts but now he was on the verge of tackling and killing Carl right now with his bare hands.

When he looked at you, eyes clenched shut now and silent tears pouring out the corners, he could see Lenora. Both of you were just fearful girls being taken advantage of by someone with too much power. He couldn’t save his sister but maybe he could save you. Arvin could feel his father’s Luger in his pocket but he wasn’t sure if he could draw it and shoot Carl before he could pull the trigger on you. His father’s words came back to him. Wait for the right moment.

Carl whipped his head over to look at Arvin and snapped at him, “I ain’t askin’ again, son. Get in there and start touchin’ those girls!” Carl took the gun off you for just a moment to point it at Arvin and encourage him to approach you and Sandy.

Now, it wasn’t that Arvin had no regard for his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was die, especially after how hard he’d had to fight his whole life, but he was more willing to risk getting himself shot than you. His hand had been gripped around his pistol in the pocket of his denim jacket, just waiting for the right moment to get the two of you away safely. In a second, he cocked the gun and drew it quickly, firing sloppily in Carl’s direction.

Two gunshots rang out.

You screamed, thinking that Carl had just murdered Arvin before your eyes and that you were next. Your eyes were clenched shut until you noticed Carl seethe in anger and pain, “Fuck! Fuck you boy!” And then multiple more gunshots.

This time, there were no more groans of pain, only the heavy thud of Carl’s body on the ground. His gun fell to the ground when his hand loosened and you dove for it, snapping out of Sandy’s grip. You landed hard, your bare chest and abdomen scraping painfully against the sticks and rocks when your body slid against the rough ground. You grabbed the gun and turned to point it at Sandy, who had also procured a gun from God knows where and had it aimed right at you. You didn’t hesitate.

Again, there were two bangs.

You fell back after you fired off your shot and in your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if you’d been hit, your arms had given up supporting your weight on the ground, or if the recoil from the gun was that intense.

There was the sound of another body hitting the ground.

Arving rushed to your side, falling to his knees and inspecting you for immediate signs of physical distress. “Are you okay? Were you shot?”

Your hands ran all over your body, trying to feel for any signs of being shot. You couldn’t feel any part of your body right now, the adrenaline distorting your perception of pain. Even the large bloody scratches on your chest, breasts, stomach, arms, and knees weren’t causing any discomfort at the moment. You shook your head, “I- I don’t think so. Were you?”

He shook his head, helping lift you to sitting, “No-no, I’m alright. We need to get out of here though.”

Your knees were shaky as you tried to stand up but they almost gave out on you when you saw the dead bodies on the forest floor. Carl had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the arm. Sandy was already pale with a bloody entrance wound in her throat.

“Oh my God… we killed them.” You were nearly hyperventilating, stumbling backwards. Arvin walked with you, holding you up until you stopped moving.

“They were gonna kill us. We had no choice.” He held you tightly by the shoulders, looking straight into your teary and panicked eyes.

“The police ain't gonna believe that.” Your entire life just crumbled to pieces before your eyes, all because you hitched a ride with some strangers.

Arvin shook his head, “That’s why we gotta get outta here. Leave ‘em. Don’t tell anybody about what happened.”

His words sunk in and you nodded in agreement. The honest part of you wanted to tell the police. Maybe they could help you but you knew that there was an equal chance they’d lock you up for murder as well. You couldn’t risk it. Running was the only option.

Carl’s gun was still in your hand and once you realized it, you wiped it down on your skirt before placing it back in Carl’s hand. “What’re you doin’?” Arvin asked, watching you meticulously place it as if it had just fallen in place.

“Makin’ it look like a murder-suicide. They can’t pin it to us if it don’t look like they were just murdered.” You explained, leaving the gun in his hand and taking a few shaky steps back as you stared at the corpse. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You had never imagined yourself shooting anyone let alone fixing a crime scene to get away with murder. This was an extreme situation though. You had to shoot Sandy and Arvin had to shoot Carl. They were going to kill you two if you didn’t kill them first.

Arvin noticed the way your face had noticeably paled and how your eyes were glued to Carl’s body and the splatters of crimson liquid that pooled on his shirt and dripped onto the earth beneath his body. He stepped between you and Carl’s body and put his hand on your shoulder, the other gently on your face. His beautiful face blocked your view but you still struggled to fight the tunnel vision. “Hey, look at me. Look at me!” He urged, his grip on your face getting ever so slightly more firm when he noticed your eyes try to dart around his frame to see the body again. Arvin wasn’t hurting you by any means, just trying to keep you focused on him. “You did what you had to do, ya hear me? They was gonna kill both of us. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Now we just gotta get outta here, okay?”

You swallowed hard and nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tightly for just a moment to ground yourself. In your brief moment of meditation, you tried to focus on anything to ground you but the only calming thing you could process was Arvin’s comforting hands on your shoulder and face and the way you could feel his gaze still on you with so much concern and determination, even with your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you breathed out, “Okay.”

Arvin glanced down and noticed the thin trails of blood that were starting to dribble down your torso from the deeper scrapes and at first reached out to button your shirt for you but hesitated, his hands shrinking back when he realized he wasn’t sure whether that was the appropriate response. You flinched back a little when he reached for your top out of pure instinct but quickly relaxed. You glanced down, just now noticing that your shirt was still unbuttoned. “‘M sorry, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your new reaction in light of the trauma you’d just gone through. Your fingers nimbly began to button up your shirt but you hissed when the fabric tightened around the copious lesions.

“No, it’s alright. Here, take my jacket.” He was already shrugging off the denim jacket before he finished speaking.

You put your hand up, clutching the opened fabric of your shirt together in your hand in front of your chest instead of buttoning it properly, finding this way you could keep the fabric from sticking to your wounds. “I can’t take your jacket. I don’t wanna get blood on it.” Arvin’s eyes followed yours until they landed on the small spots of blood already seeping through your thin blouse.

Without allowing you to protest, he slung in over your shoulders, engulfing you arms and all. “It’s fine, really. I insist. You can’t go walkin’ ‘round all exposed like that. I can try to help you clean up if we find any rags.”

You sighed when the fabric covered your arms and his scent engulfed your senses. Yet again, you found yourself numb to the world, if only for a second, but this time because all you could experience was Arvin Russel. Tunnel vision made him your only view and all you inhaled was the scent of clean musk, wet earth, and the faint scent of car grease. “Thank you.” You whispered, gripping onto the open sides just enough to keep the garment from slipping off your shoulders.

Arvin just nodded reassuringly before wordlessly taking off towards Carl and Sandy’s car. You followed curiously. He searched around frantically and, while you were unsure of what he was looking for, you were curious to see what he’d find. For the most part, there was nothing out of the usual, until he came across a roll of film in the glove compartment. With trembling hands, he unrolled the small canister and looked at the negatives. “Oh my God-” He trailed off in horror.

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the film. The images nearly made you throw up. Even though they were difficult to see because they were only negatives, it was still fairly clear what they were. Pictures of men and Sandy filled the roll but they got progressively more violent and graphic, sexually and gorily. At first, they were just sitting together but then Sandy was topless in the next one and then they were kissing in the one after that and then the man would be naked in the following. Eventually, there’d only be a pool of what you assumed to be blood where his genitals should have been before finally just shots of a motionless bloody corpse that used to be whoever that poor man was.

“Shit… we were next, weren’t we?” You asked, images of you and Arvin facing this same kind of torture flooding your mind and making your stomach churn. The guilt you had felt for shooting Sandy was melting away and you actually felt almost glad you and Arvin had ended this pair of monsters. They couldn’t hurt anyone else the way they had brutally slaughtered these other men.

“I think so. Fuck, there’s a bunch of ‘em.” Arvin pulled out at least four other canisters, too scared to open them. It was safe to assume what they were photos of and you really didn’t want to see anymore.

Your hands shook so much you could barely keep your grip on the negatives, “We need to give these to the police. If we prove they were serial killers, maybe they won’t send us to jail. It was self-defense.”

Arvin really did appreciate the fact that you so badly wanted to be good and honest. Killing people wasn’t easy and he was pretty damn sure you’d never done it before. Hell, before today, neither had he. Maybe it would be easy for you to get off without any charges if you came clean but he was sure the police would be looking for him for killing Preston Teagarden any moment now. The note he’d left for his uncle and grandma back home was pretty much sure evidence that he was the murderer. If the two of you went to the police, he’d be practically turning himself in. He couldn’t do it.

“I-I can’t go to the police. I can’t tell you why but I can’t. If you want to go to the police, you can’t tell ‘em I was here. Tell ‘em you was by yourself.” Arvin looked up at you from where he sat in the passenger seat.

You looked down at him, realization dawning on your face. “You did somethin’, didn’t you? That’s why you were hitchhiking. You were runnin’ away.”

Arvin got quiet and looked down at the ground where your white shoes, now scuffed up from the encounter, made contact with the soil and leaves that covered the ground. He shouldn’t tell you the truth but for some reason he really wanted to. There was an energy radiating off of you that felt safe and understanding and maybe he shouldn’t trust you but gosh did he want to. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he answered, still avoiding your gaze, “I- I didn’t want to but… he hurt my sister real bad.”

Your silence scared Arvin. He shouldn’t have opened up, especially to a girl that was practically a stranger. Being nearly killed by a pair of serial killers creates a strange bond between two people though. Arvin’s heart stopped beating until you finally spoke again. “I believe you. It’s okay.”

The surprise was clear in Arvin’s scared eyes when he finally looked back up to you. You didn’t look scared of him like he had feared. You actually looked almost sad for him.

Inside, you were. Arvin Russell was a good man - you could just feel it. From your brief but intense experience with him today, you could tell that he was a kind, polite soul but there was clearly a fire that burned inside him, an urge to protect those he cared about. You had seen first hand that he was more than capable of protecting himself and others, even at high stakes… and now so were you. You were no different than him now so you were in no position to judge for what he may have done.

“If you don’t want to go to the police, we won’t. We can get as far from here as possible and keep this our secret.” You assured, uncomfortable by how comfortable you were with the idea of running from the law.

Arvin took a moment to try and figure out the next step. Whatever it was, it needed to happen fast so you two had enough time to put space between you and the crime scene. He thought to the next closest town and groaned, “What’s wrong with your car?”

“I don’t know. It just started actin’ up while I was drivin’ and when I pulled over, it wouldn’t start up again.” You thought back to the vehicle, which still sat on the side of the road no more than three miles back.

Arvin stood up from the passenger seat and you stepped aside so he could have some room. “I know a little ‘bout cars. It might not be too bad a fix. Walkin’ back and fixing up the car wouldn’t take as long as walking the next ten or fifteen miles to Falksville.” Arvin was right. You were right between Coal Creek, where apparently Arvin was on the run from, and Falksville, the next town over. It would take hours to walk there.

“Alright,” you agreed. You walked to the backdoor and opened it to grab your duffel bag, handing Arvin his bag as well. Before the two of you started your trek back to your car, you couldn’t help but look back at the crime scene - the two dead bodies lying motionless, knowing you did that, the way that you had manipulated the scene, the way that you were running away with Arvin to literally flee the police. The weight of the situation weighed on you with a heavy sigh.

A hand rested on your shoulder, “We did what we had to.” You tore your gaze from the scene, the image burned into your memory for the rest of your life. It was difficult to argue with those beautiful brown eyes that looked at you like you were someone he genuinely cared for, not like you were the stranger to him that you actually were.

You stood up a little straighter, cast one more look over at the scene before turning around to face the road. “I know.”

The walk took almost an hour and neither of you tried to hitchhike your way there. Once you arrived, you attempted to clean your wounds with a pile of napkins you had hidden in your glove compartment and a water bottle while Arvin tinkered under the hood of your car. it didn’t take long for him to figure out the problem and with the help of the tool set your father insisted on you keeping in your trunk in case of an emergency (like this), he was able to get the car up and running.

“Alright, try it now.” He instructed from under the hood. You sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition whenever Arvin instructed to see if the car would turn over. You twisted the key again and the car struggled at first, the pulsing mechanical sound of the car trying to turn over tearing through the quiet woods. Just as you were about to admit defeat this round, the roar of the engine came to life and just like that, your car ran again.

A big smile spread across your face and you jumped out of the driver’s seat to stand beside Arvin, both of you looking down at the engine beneath the hood. “I can’t believe that worked! Thank you so much!”

Arvin reached up and shut the hood. “It’s no problem. We should get goin’ though.”

You nodded in agreement, “Where do you need a ride to?”

He thought for a moment. Arvin wasn’t quite sure. He had been hitching rides to Meade so he could see his old home but you weren’t going anywhere near that way. He didn’t want to ask you to go so far out of your way but then it occurred to him…. “Where are you goin’?”

“Back home. My parents are expectin’ me home tonight but I can give you a ride where you need.” You answered as if it were obvious. The best way to act normal was to do exactly that: act normal.

Arvin chewed his tongue, “You don’t live too far from here. It might be easy to link you to the crime if they catch you.” He didn’t want to scare you but he also didn’t want to see you get locked up.

You rolled your eyes, “If that were true, they’d have to suspect every person in a thirty mile radius. It’s illogical for the police to single us out. You can stay at my house for a few days, if you need.”

Arvin just shook his head, “I got some things I gotta do. Look, I really think you should get away for a little while so they can’t connect you to the crime but I understand if not. If it’s not too much to ask, though, would you mind possibly given’ me a lift to Falksville so I can hitch a ride there? I ain’t got much money for gas but-”

“I ain’t lettin’ you hitchhike your way to Meade. Not after what just happened. I can give you a ride there.” You leaned against the hood of your car and looked up at him sincerely.

“You sure? What ‘bout your parents? Ain’t they expectin’ you?”

You just shrugged, “I’ll call ‘em in Fawksville and tell ‘em I decided to head up to Meade for a few days. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. That way I can give you a ride up to Meade and then you can take the bus there to wherever you wanna go.”

“That’s real kind of you. Thank you.” His hands twitched in his pocket, wanting to reach out and hug you but physical affection had made Arvin nervous ever since his mother got sick.

You nodded your head back to the car, “Hop in. We can head out and get as far as we can tonight. Either find a hotel or we can switch off when we get too tired.” Arvin listened and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat.

The two of you drove off into the night, the stars beginning to shine brightly in the lightless woods. You weren’t quite sure what your life would be like now and neither was Arvin. There was blood on your hands and there would be a constant paranoia that one day the cops would catch up with you and throw you in prison, even if you ran away like Arvin had suggested.

And then there was Arvin. Handsome, altruistic, and brave, you were bonded to this stranger by the horrors you had endured and the blood you had shed. Though the two of you were strangers, there was a closeness that you felt to him that seemed impossible to feel with anyone else- a bond between survivors that would always be there, even if you never saw each other again. Something told you that this man would be a salient figure in your life, though.

As you drove off down the highway, the only sound being the faint crackling radio, you tried to leave the horrors of the road behind you but there was a feeling in your gut that this was far from the end.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagine #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel imagines #arvin x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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wlntrsldler · 4 years ago

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Hii, was wondering if I could request you belong with me with oliver wood? Thank u :)

PROMPT: based on you belong with me by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N is in love with her friend with benefits, oliver wood.

WARNINGS: light smut

WC: 1.8K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

you belong with me (o.w one shot)

“Always a pleasure, Y/L/N,” Oliver quipped, putting on his shirt as he shot you a flirty smile.

You giggled under his stare, slipping on his discarded jumper to cover yourself. You inhaled his scent, feeling yourself fall deeper for the boy in front of you. “I can say the same about you, Wood.”

He cocked an eyebrow, motioning over to the article of clothing you decide to drape over your body. “I take it that you’ll be adding this to the collection you have?”

“Course,” you hummed, staring at him as he began to get ready to leave, as usual. “Need to have something to remember you by.”

Oliver cheekily snuck over next to you, pressing his lips against your neck, making you moan out. You pulled his neck back, connecting your lips together, making him groan. You pushed him down to the bed, straddling his thighs, your body bare from the waist down. He pushed you down onto his body, deepening the kiss. You pulled back, now peppering kisses down his exposed skin.

He massaged the skin of your thighs, licking his lips, “And the marks I left on your body isn’t enough of a reminder?”

“They are,” you murmured, sucking softly on his collarbone. He took in a breath, feeling himself growing hard under your rolling hips. “But it makes it easier to think about you when I touch myself when I can smell you.”

Oliver threw his head back, taking all the strength he possessed to remove your body off him. You whined in protest, laying down on your back, defeated beside him. He propped his head with his hand, smirking at you, “You’ll be the death of me, Y/L/N.”

“Good.”

Oliver left a few minutes after that conversation, making you sigh and bury your head in your pillow. You were so in love with the Quidditch captain and you knew you shouldn’t be. When you and him agreed to be friends with benefits, you both agreed that it meant absolutely no feelings, whatsoever. As far as you knew, Oliver was upholding his side of the bargain quite well, while you were failing miserably.

It was hard not to fall for the boy. He was charming, kind, and not to mention, a great kisser. Whenever you two laid together, it almost didn’t feel like a mutual agreement. He has so much passion, so much care, every time you two were alone. Oliver would always ask you if you were okay, always made sure you were comfortable, and showered you with praise. He would bury his head in the crook of your neck, stating how good you made him feel.

It’s been a few months since the start of your agreement and after each night, you felt yourself love him just a bit more than the previous night. In front of other people, you two acted like perfect friends, like everyone knew you as, but behind closed doors, you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. He would pepper your face with soft kisses, tangle your fingers together, and murmur words of adoration in your ear the minute there were no eyes on you two. You knew it was a dangerous game you were playing but you couldn’t help but not care. Oliver Wood was addicting.

The following morning, you winced as you hobbled down to the Great Hall, legs sore from last night's activities. You grimaced as you sat down at the table, across from Oliver who had a smirk on his face that he was trying to hide behind his cup. Fred chuckled beside you, nudging you, “Fun night, Y/N?”

“Shut it, Weasley,” you hissed, taking a bite from a piece of toast you plucked off his plate. “I may be feeling a bit injured at the moment, but I can still hex you into next Sunday.”

“One day, Y/L/N, we’ll meet the bloke who’s making it difficult for you to walk.” George added.

“Why do you assume it’s because of a bloke?” you grumbled, stuffing your mouth with eggs. “What if I just fell off my broom at practice? Maybe I have cramps. Did you ever think about that, hmm?”

“Sure,” Fred said, he motioned at your neck, reminding you of the marks that probably littered your skin. “But I’m sure your fall didn’t cause all that.”

You blushed under their gaze, lifting your fingers up to trace the tender skin. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, Y/L/N,” the younger twin shrugged, looking at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. “One day we’ll meet the bloke you say is the best lay of your life.”

Your eyes widened at his words, completely forgetting that you confessed that to the twins during one party after drinking too much. You heard Oliver snort in front of you, smiling in a teasing manner. He raised his eyebrows as if saying, “The best lay of your life, huh?” You flipped off George, making him and his twin burst out in laughter. “Shut up, please.”

“I think it’s cute,” Oliver chuckled, leaning over to stare at you. “You’re smitten with him, aren’t you?”

“You can shut up too, Wood.”

The three boys howled in laughter. Oliver sent you a wink when the twins were too busy joking around to pay attention to the two of you. You blushed, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. Merlin, this is going to be difficult, you thought.

Unfortunately, it’s been weeks since your last night with Oliver. The Quidditch team has been practicing more than ever and you were both too tired to really do much. When you weren’t practicing, you were doing homework, already behind on at least three of your classes because of your rigorous practice schedule.

Oliver’s jumper no longer smelled like him, making you upset that you had to settle for friendly glances and secret touches in the hallways. Your love bites already faded as well, disappearing with time. You missed seeing the red marks on your skin, reminding you of your heated rendezvous.

You were walking out of Potions when Blaise came up to you, a flirty smile on his face. He stopped you in your tracks, leaning against a pole. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hello, Blaise,” you raised an eyebrow, confused as to why the Slytherin was talking to you. You clutched your books closer to your chest, “Anything I can help you with?”

“Actually yes,” he licked his lips, reaching down to grab your hand. “I was wondering if you could accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

You looked down at your hand sitting idle in his palm, stuttering over your words and you spoke to him for conformation. “L-like a date?”

“Exactly like a date,” Blaise nodded, placing a kiss to your knuckles. “If you’re up for it.”

“I-”

“Leannan,” A voice spoke from behind you. A hand snaked around your wait, pulling you close to them, and ripping your hand from Blaise’s grip at the same time. You turned your head to see Oliver, staring down Blaise. “What’s going on here?”

Blaise stared back, “Just asking Y/N on a date, Wood. None of your concern.”

“Actually it is,” Oliver replied, pulling you even closer to him. Your body grew hot, feeling Oliver’s protective grip on your waist. “We have plans this weekend. So I’m sorry that but she’ll have to decline.”

He nodded, reluctantly, shifting his attention from Oliver to you. “Hm, maybe next time then.”

Oliver grinned, a condescending smile on his face, “Sure, mate.”

Blaise raised his hands up in defense, shooting you a confused wave before walking away. Oliver didn’t dare to remove his hand on you until Blaise was nowhere to be seen. When he finally let you go, you looked at him in disbelief, “What was that for?”

He rolled his eyes, “You should be thanking me, Y/N. I got you out of a date with him.”

“What if I wanted to go?”

“Please,” he chuckled, now taking Blaise’s original spot, “You wanted to go on a date with Zabini?”

“Maybe,” you huffed but you knew you had no interest in the Slytherin.

“Why would you want to?”

“He’s fit,” you stated simply, shrugging like it was no big deal. It wasn’t really a lie. Blaise was fit, but you weren’t interested. “Plus, I could get to know him and see for myself if I see something with him.”

Oliver scoffed, “Don’t waste your time with someone like him.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so harsh right now.”

“Because you deserve better.”

“Oh right,” you spat, “And better in your definition is to be hidden away as nothing more than a nice quickie, right?”

Oliver blinked a few times, trying to process your words. He held your upper arm, concern over his features, “What are you on about?”

“All I am is a friends with benefits right, Oliver? That’s all I’ll ever amount to? Merlin forbid that someone would find interest in me beyond that.”

“Y/N, where is this coming from?”

“You really are thick,” you chuckled, tears now spilling from your eyes. “It stopped being a quick fuck for me a long time ago Oliver. I’m bloody in love with you.”

You stood there in silence, breathing ragged as you spilled your feelings to Oliver. You shook your head, turning around to walk away from him. You took a couple steps before you felt him grab your hand, twirling you around to push you into his chest. He chuckled, ignoring the way your books fell from your hand, as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “You wanna know why I told Blaise off?”

“Why?”

“Because you belong with me, leannan,” he mumbled, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m in love with you, too.”

You gulped, looking into his eyes, “You are?”

“Mhm.”

You placed your lips on his, sighing in content knowing you no longer had to hide your affections. Oliver wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up as he kissed you passionately. You squealed, sneaking short kisses on his lips as he laughed. He put you down, kissing your lips one last time before pulling away.

“Oi, Fred!” George called his brother, a smirk on his lips as he hid behind a wall.

Fred walked over to him, “What’s up, Georgie?”

George pointed at the two of you ahead of him, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Oliver leaned down to kiss you again, this time backing you up against the wall to deepen the kiss. George grinned knowing that he won the bet. The younger twin held out his hand, “Five sickles, please.”

Fred rolled his eyes, fishing in his pocket to get the money he now owed his brother, “Here.”

George replied in a sing-song voice, “Thank you.”

“Shut up.”

TAGS:

@rexorangecouny

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #oliver wood #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x yn #oliver wood fanfic #oliver wood drabble #frances writes #frances x taylor swift x harry potter #frances song fics

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jikyuz · 4 years ago

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♡ the shivers ♡ p. jihoon (m)

“i never sent a request before, idk how to properly do this lmao! but can u write a jihoon smut where he comes to your warm home after practice and he’s missing you & your touch so much, pls? (with 17+28) - 🌼” - anon || 17. tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin. + 28. one person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss. words: 1.321k warnings: smut, fingering (fem receiving), mentions of masturbation (male) a/n: i got quite carried away with this one so instead of a blurb i made it into a full scenario! also,,, i’m tempted to write a part two to this but idk we shall see 0_0 anyways, i hope you like it and it’s to your expectations! <3 - bee

The distinct smell of Jihoon’s cologne made you smile, burying yourself deeper into his hoodie that was draped over you. He had always bought hoodies that were too big for him and ever since you started dating, you found comfort in throwing on one of his hoodies. On days that he wasn’t there with you or even the longer stretches of time that you were apart it felt like he was right there next to you.

This hoodie, however, was starting to lose the citrus and wood smell that you had always associated with Jihoon. It was about time to give it back to him, you thought as you threw the hood over your head.

It wasn’t long after you felt yourself drifting off, the clock on your coffee table reading just past 9, that you heard loud footsteps outside your door along with the sound of a key slipping into the lock. You watched as Jihoon’s jacketed figure quickly entered, the door almost slamming behind him as he shivered slightly.

One long shiver racked through him before his shoulders dropped, his body relaxing under the warm heat that was circling through your apartment. As he turned around, he saw you sitting on your couch, your face barely peeking through the hood of his hoodie. Wordlessly he smiled, stripping himself of his large jacket and taking his shoes off before walking towards you.

“Hi, angel.” He plopped onto the couch with a sigh, eyes widening when you silently swung your leg over his lap, thighs caging him in as you snuggled yourself into his embrace.

The action itself wasn’t meant in a sexual way, you just wanted to share some body heat in an attempt to get Jihoon to stop shivering. It worked, his teeth stopping the loud chattering that echoed through the walls. But you also felt the way his breathing sped up, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs and his thumbs coming dangerously close to your core.

“Hi.” You replied, your breath hitting his neck and making a low groan escape the man below you. The effect you had on him was obvious, the goosebumps that appeared on his arms and the way his heartbeat sped up underneath your head giving him away almost instantly.

“I missed you, angel.” Jihoon’s thumbs began rubbing your thighs, arms tugging you closer so your hips were touching. With your body now practically lying on top of his, you could feel every muscle in his body move as you pulled away from your place on his chest to look at him.

His eyes raked over every part of your face, a small smile peeking out from behind his slightly chapped lips. If it weren’t for the hard bump under his pants you would think he was just innocently admiring you but as soon as one of his hands trailed up to your cheek, thumb tracing the outline of your lips, you knew you were in for a night.

“I missed you too, Ji.” Your warm breath hit Jihoon’s thumb as it stroked your bottom lip. Suddenly the air around you two was warm, like you were in a hot tub or a sauna.

Jihoon’s thumb continued to outline your lips, his eyes following the movement of his finger. Words almost made their way out of your mouth, asking what he was doing or even a simple plea to just kiss you already but Jihoon beat you to it, his hand trailing to your chin where his thumb and index finger clamped down slightly. He tilted your head towards him, pulling you so your lips met in a sweet kiss.

It was the first kiss you shared in quite a while, with Jihoon being busy preparing for a comeback and you being busy with your own responsibilities. Although it was the first kiss in some time, you still remembered all the small details, like the way he would tilt his head to the right or how his tongue always traced your top lip to ask for access.

As if on cue you felt Jihoon’s warm tongue glide against your top lip, head already tilted to the right and you immediately opened your mouth. A small moan escaped you when his hand traveled from your chin to your cheek, his soft touch and cold hand making a spark of electricity jolt through you.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” Jihoon pulled away just enough to stutter that out, and your hands threaded through his hair, pushing him back against you. A low groan, akin to a growl almost, vibrated through his chest and you felt your underwear dampen at how he was reacting to your touch.

“How many times did you touch yourself thinking that it was me?” You asked, your hands moving to rest on his chest and you swore you could feel his heartbeat against your palm. It was a question that you didn’t think you would ask but you were extremely curious.

“Too many times to count, angel. I just missed your touch so much.” He replied, his eyes darker than they were before. A soft pink hue dusted his cheeks and his chest heaved with each breath he took. Jihoon pulled you back into his lips, warm tongue brushing against yours and you gasped, breaking the kiss when you felt his hands slip under your (his) hoodie, his cold hands resting on your bare back for the first time that night.

“But nothing,” Jihoon’s hands moved from your back to the waistband of your pajama pants, “could compare to the way your hands feel.”

Another gasp followed by a moan fell from your lips as Jihoon’s finger instantly found your clit, moving in circles and applying pressure at just the right times to have you squirming in his lap. Your head fell to his shoulder, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as Jihoon sped up.

“You’re so beautiful, angel.” Jihoon grunted out, mouth moving to your neck to suck a bruise into your exposed skin. His finger slowed down it’s assault on your bundle of nerves, moving lower to tease your hole. Growling, he dipped his finger in once then twice, smirking at the whine that fell from your lips.

“Jihoon, please do something.” You pleaded, eyes closing and bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Anything, absolutely anything would push you over the edge. From the feeling of Jihoon’s throbbing cock beneath you and the thought of what would happen later in the night making you desperate for some sort of release.

“Whatever you say, angel.” He slowly pushed his finger inside you, and you moaned at the way he stretched you nicely, the other finger soon following while his thumb pressed back onto your clit. With a few thrusts of his fingers, curling them slightly and basking in the loud moans that you echoed into his ear, he continued his assault on your clit with his thumb.

As you assumed, it didn’t take you long for the knot in your stomach to burst, your walls clenching around Jihoon’s fingers as you rode out your high by gingerly riding his fingers. You twitched when he removed them, bringing them up to his lips and sucking your juices off of them.

Long, deep breaths fell from your lips as you laid on his chest. It was then you realized that Jihoon’s hard erection was still present, his hips stuttering as he chased his own high.

His fingers slipped back under your (his) hoodie and he squeezed your waist. When you looked up at him you watched as his dark eyes moved from the bruise on your neck to your lips slick with saliva to your hooded eyes still recovering from the electric high you just experienced and you swore you felt him throb beneath you.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, angel. I want to feel you completely.”

#treasure #jihoon #park jihoon #treasure smut #treasure imagine #treasure scenario #treasure blurb #jihoon smut #jihoon imagine #jihoon scenario #jihoon blurb #treasure imagines #treasure scenarios #treasure blurbs #jihoon imagines #jihoon scenarios #jihoon blurbs #jihoon + 17 + 28

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bikerjongho · 3 years ago

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santiago | choi san

genre: realistic fiction, humor

characters: restaurant waiter!san ft dancer!wooyungi and dancer!stray kids

description: San is a charming and popular waiter at his local Mexican restaurant. But when a rival Mexican restaurant opens nearby and steals many of his customers, San finds himself needing to expand his talents in order to keep his beloved workplace in business.

word count: 6.9k

warnings: N/A

author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAN!! you’re atiny’s stage demon and sweetie pie. I hope you have a lovely birthday and have lots of fun on your special day <33 also this post was inspired solely by this deadly post so thank u for sending me into outer space with your charisma mr choi

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant @blueprint-han

Once San had heard the giggling from the front of the restaurant, he knew that his shift that day was going to be substantially more exciting.

Dressed in a long-sleeved red button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and straight black slacks that matched with his polished and shiny black shoes, San was the perfect waiter at El Diablo Caliente, a local Mexican restaurant in his town. He sauntered over to the welcoming podium and gave a blindingly charming smile to the four girls that had just arrived.

And the smile did not disappoint. One of the girls burst into giggles while the rest of them managed to keep their blush to a light pink. "A table for four lovely ladies?" He said, and their blush increased as they nodded. "Wonderful." He slipped four restaurant menus under his arm and motioned for them to follow.

The restaurant interior, like San's shirt, was a wonderful ruby red. The lighting that casted over the booths and wooden chairs gave the restaurant a cozy and comfortable vibe. San enjoyed the vibe, it was one of many reasons why he loved working there. The other reasons were more superficial: his black hair matched perfectly with the color palette of the restaurant and he could swoon and charm as many customers as he liked as he worked. These girls were no exception to his magic and not immune to his allure.

"I'm San," he said as the girls sat down at the table he assigned them. "But you ladies may also know me as-"

"Santiago," a girl breathed, finishing his sentence for him. She looked a minute away from passing out onto the floor. San thought a beverage could fix that.

"Santiago," he nodded, and it was true. He had been working at El Diablo Caliente for so long that he had forgotten where the nickname had come from, but it was a nickname that was bestowed on him nonetheless by a few of the regulars. It had caught on, and he was then known as both San and Santiago. He quite enjoyed the name.

"You can call me either," he said, then took off the cap of the pen he was holding with his teeth with a flourish and quirked an eyebrow. "And what refreshments would you ladies like to start off with?" He asked, hovering the pen over his notepad.

The girls whistled off drinks, and when San went away they began to giggle. San smiled knowingly as he walked away from them and checked in on other tables that he waited for. His charm was something he was able to exude easily while at work, and the age of the customer didn't matter. San charmed older couples with his perfect manners and sweet smiles the same as he did with sugary compliments and alluring looks for younger crowds.

San finished up a humorous conversation with an older woman and her husband before strolling back to the girls with their drinks in hand. Once he was in sight, they sat up straighter and put on smiles. He returned them. He wondered if his presence or the food that would soon come would make them happier.

"Ladies, are we ready to order?" He asked as he dished out their beverages. "And let me know if there's anything I can help with regarding the menu."

"How hot is the habanero salsa?" One of the girls asked, looking up at him with curiosity and a little bit more.

San whistled and twirled his pen in his hands. "One of our hottest," he said, pursing his lips. "It's good, though. Quite delicious. Do you think you could take it?"

"I think I could," she said, staring through his eyes with a grand smile.

"As you wish," San murmured and scribbled it down with the rest of her order.

He finished taking the orders of the rest of the girls, all of whom had many questions to ask San about the menu. He theorized they just wanted to talk to him. He saw their faces fall in the corner of his eye when he walked away to place their orders.

"Santiago!" A familiar voice called out to him, and San turned to it with an enormous dimpled grin.

"María!" He returned and gave the older woman that was approaching him an enormous and warm hug.

María, or Tía María to San, was a long-time customer to El Diablo Caliente and an even longer friend to San. But despite their age and cultural differences, they found great joy and solstice in spending time together.

"¿Cómo estás, mijo?" María asked with a soft smile after they had broken apart. "Is the restaurant treating you well?"

It was a question that Tía María asked almost every time she saw San at the restaurant. San returned the smile and nodded. "Por supuesto, Tía María." He led her to her favorite spot in the restaurant, a window seat where the sun hit the vase of the flowers on the table and refracted a perfect rainbow onto it. San immediately pulled the chair back for Tía María to sit in, which caught the attention of the group of girls he was serving. He could hear them swooning from halfway across the restaurant.

"Those girls certainly love you," Tía Maria murmured as she settled herself in the seat and eyed the girls.

San shook his head with a smile. "They all love me, you know that. Everyone that walks into this restaurant does."

"Well, because you're charming," Tía María complimented. "Y," she continued, "guapísimo. You're a rare treat for them to be both kind and good-looking."

San felt a small blush creep up on his cheeks, something that only a few people could do to him. "Thank you," he murmured, then gave her his signature smile that he reserved for older crowds. "The usual, I assume," he said, tucking his pen behind his ear. There was no use for it when he knew Tía María's order better than his own. She nodded with a hint of a smile, and after a few more minutes of conversing, San went back to satisfy other customers and their orders.

It was finally time to deliver the group of girls' food when the cook signaled to him that the food was ready and neatly arranged on his serving tray.

"I suppose I'm not the only thing that's sizzling hot, eh?" He joked as he approached their table with the food, one of the items, a fajita, literally smoking.

"Oh, truly," the one that ordered the habanero sauce said, trying to stifle a smile. He gave her a captivating stare as he slid her food in front of her.

"Enjoy your meal, ladies," he said, adjusting his red collar as he said it. As he walked away from the girls and turned his attention to other customers, he watched the girl that had ordered the habanero sauce out of the corner of his eye. Focused on the food and not him for once, she spread it generously over one of her tacos. San had to bite his lip to keep from saying anything. He watched her, in slight amusement, as she took an enormous bite of the taco stuffed with the spicy salsa from hell.

The expectation San had for her reaction was fulfilled. Her eyes got incrementally bigger as the spice danced on her tongue, and her friends giggled as she began fanning her mouth and taking a large sip of her water beside her. "Perhaps it was too hot for you, after all," San murmured to himself with a smirk. "That's why we're called El Diablo Caliente."

And that day was not unusual of how San's waiter shifts usually went. While sometimes busy, San found happiness and pride at his job.

But that reality had all been turned upside-down when Ana's Taqueria surfaced.

Ana's Taqueria had snatched El Diablo Caliente's customers with a flourish of its hand even though it was only a few days old. With its lavish green walls and modern interior decorating, El Diablo Caliente customers flocked there like a moth to a flame. San's busy days as a waiter dropped dramatically, which meant that the lavish tips he had once received downsized dramatically. The mood of the restaurant dropped with the amount of customers as well, and San was plagued with the wistful thought that things would go back to normal. But it had been almost a month, and El Diablo Caliente's best days seemed to be behind him. All of the employees saw this. Tía María saw this. But most importantly, San's manager saw this.

"San," his manager began, sitting across from San in one of the restaurant'c chairs. She had called him to talk during an hour that wasn't busy - which was turning into most hours at El Diablo Caliente. Her hair being pulled back into a bun only accentuated the stress and tightness on her face as she spoke. "You obviously have seen and felt the effect of Ana's Taqueria. I've been thinking, and we have to make a few changes as to how we market ourselves if we want to gain back some of our customers." She sighed and shook her head.

"The restaurant owner, Ana, runs a tight ship. But it's effective, obviously. Their waiters are all just like you, bursting with charisma and passion. The place is cleaner than a biologist's laboratory. Their food, of course, is good. I tried it a few days ago." San's manager rubbed a tired hand over her face. "But," she said, raising her eyebrows, "it's not as good as ours. It's not as authentic. We still have a chance at coming back."

"That's all very hopeful," San said, "but why are you telling me this? Alone?"

"I'm telling you this," his manager smiled, "because you are our customer favorite. If anyone knows how to keep customers, it's you. Would you look at a few ideas I have for improving business?" She pushed a piece of paper in front of him.

San scanned the paper. His manager had certainly thought out of the box - from a an inflatable dancing balloon parked out in the front to weekly mariachi bands, San was thoroughly impressed. But the mariachis were expensive, and the balloon could only satisfy so many children. San read through the rest of the options and stopped at a dance team.

"A dance team?" He pondered, looking back up at her.

His manager smiled. "Just dancers from the town. We could ask the high school's dance team to perform every now and then."

"And the college students, since it's summer and they're home," San felt the need to note, being a college student himself.

His manager nodded. "Precisely." She then looked at him closer, like she wanted him to say something. San had a feeling she knew what she wanted him to say.

"Yes, I danced competitively in high school," San said after a minute. And though he was in college and wasn't a dance major, San was a part of a non-competitive dance team that did flash mobs in festivals and parades in the town.

His manager leaned closer to him. San leaned away from her, giving a nervous smile.

"You could really bring a lot of business if you danced, Santiago," his manager grinned. "I'm not trying to force you. But I've seen how you light up when you work with the customers. I've seen how customers light up with you. And if it doesn't work out, we'll come up with something else. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

San pondered his options. Accepting this would mean being around the restaurant a lot more. And although it was true he enjoyed working there, he found equal satisfaction in relaxing by himself at his home or walking around the town in the evening. It would also mean recruiting other members of his dance team. A few of them did live nearby, but it would still be work nonetheless to get them to cooperate.

But San thought of Tía María and the giggly girls he had served only a week before Ana's Taqueria had opened. He thought about the older couples that couldn't stop fishing bills out of their pockets for San after one of his usual waiter performances. This restaurant wasn't just a restaurant. It was important to both him, the other employees, and the customers that frequented there, even if they had found a new love as of late. San could have refused, but Santiago had an obligation to his place of work.

"Then let's do it," San said, and the manager's face erupted with joy.

"Thank you," she sobbed, and San smiled with the obliviousness of a person that had no idea what they had got themselves into.

Within a few days, San had contacted three dance college friends that lived close by to set up a few performances. All three of them were a part of the dance team at his college and seemed eager to get out of the house to do something fun. Yunho, San's friendly and sweet as sunshine friend from college, accepted with no problem. Mingi, another college friend, was just happy to not be cooped up in his house anymore. Wooyoung, his final dance friend from college, was eager to accept on the term that San provided them with food from the restaurant during their practices.

So when he met up with them outside the restaurant for their first practice, he had a bag of takeout containers filled with fajitas, tacos, and enchiladas. Wooyoung scurried up to San when he was in view and took the bag from his hands. "Thank you," he said cheerfully.

"Nice to see you too," San said and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. But Wooyoung simply put the bag of food on the ground and bounced back up with the energy of a newborn kangaroo. "Hello, Yunho, Mingi."

Both of them waved back, Mingi with his eyes wide and an even wider smile, and Yunho, who laughed as he waved. "So, what's on the agenda?" He asked while Wooyoung eyed the bag of food he had placed on the floor. Although San had briefed them all with the basics, none of them knew exactly what they were doing.

"This is dance for a Mexican restaurant," Wooyoung said logically. "We could salsa dance with each other." Mingi, who was standing next to him, took a few steps away from him.

"No," San laughed, and then pulled out his phone from his back pocket. "I was thinking of something a bit more... exciting." The three of them had their eyes on him while San scrolled through a playlist he had created a few hours earlier. "We can do a few songs that we already know from dance team, but like Wooyoung said, this is a Mexican restaurant. So I think it's only fair that we dance to some Latin artists." He clicked the song, and the sound of acoustic guitars filled the air.

Mingi began to nod his head and tap his foot. Wooyoung had gotten himself into the tacos and was eating one while swaying to the music.

"Oh, this is groovy," Yunho smiled. "What's the song?"

"This is La Camisa Negra by Juanes," San said with such a perfect pronunciation that the three of them whistled in awe.

"Ah, so this is why you're the hot and popular waiter," Wooyoung grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "You really know how to get them-"

San turned up the volume of the music to drown out Wooyoung. "So I was thinking we could dance to this song in black shirts. And perhaps we could have roses in our mouths to make it a little sexier."

"Business is going to boom," Mingi surveyed, and Yunho nodded in agreement.

"And a few more songs by Juanes and other artists as well. We can definitely don't have to do all of them, but we can survey them tonight and think of some light choreography. These will just be fun interludes for our practiced dances."

He must have looked optimistic, because the three of them smiled back. Mingi now had an enchilada on a plate. "Excelente," he said and raised his fork with a smile as if he was toasting them. "Let's do it."

Their dancing experience was an asset for the choreography. It didn't take long to come up with a small dance routine, and before San knew it, the sun was setting and all of the food was eaten.

"Thanks for making this easy," San said gratefully as the other three of them packed up their things. "And fun."

"No problem," Yunho smiled. "It will be a lot of fun. Especially when we pick up Wooyoung and shove a rose into his mouth."

"I will be incredibly sexy," Wooyoung chimed in, completely serious.

"And hopefully that will be promising enough for customers to come," San laughed, but he couldn't ignore the knot that was in his stomach. Despite their preparation and his confidence for himself and his teammates, he couldn't help but worry that they weren't doing enough. What if the restaurant had to close?

"I'm sure people will come," Mingi reassured. "And if they don't, then we can burn down the other restaurant."

"I don't think we'll need to do that," San laughed, but Wooyoung seemed more intrigued in this idea than San would have liked him to be. Even if business only increased by a little, San was certain that the business would at least be able to stay afloat for a few more months.

So two weeks later on the small outdoor stage of El Diablo Caliente, endless amounts of hungry audience members sat in front of the four of them. Dressed in black shirts that would come in handy for La Camisa Negra later, hair slicked back to give a more flattering and attractive look to the audience, and hidden roses in the corner of the stage, they were ready to completely rock the stage with their performance.

In the back of the audience stood San's beaming manager. San returned a smile to her, which caused a large group of girls to swoon.

"His smile simply makes me melt," one of them said, and Wooyoung snorted beside him.

"Let's not keep them waiting," Wooyoung then whispered to San with his eyebrows raised. "We've got an audience to entertain."

And entertain, they did. The customers of El Diablo Caliente were satisfied by the food that was brought to them and the incredible performance that the four of them displayed for their viewing. The crowd, mostly younger people, erupted when the roses appeared on stage and San felt the spiritual need to wink to them. The amount of tips and phone numbers that the four of them received was insurmountable. The show could confidently be marked as a success.

San was beaming at the end of their performance. Because even if this didn't change their business, they had still raked in a hefty amount of money from this night. Subsequent nights would only be bigger.

But across the street, Ana's Taqueria was taking notes. Sitting at a comfortable distance from El Diablo Caliente was Ana herself. She was only a few years older than San, but she had the drive and determination of someone that had 40 years of entrepreneurship under her belt. A mischievous smile danced on her lips as she pressed her phone against her ear and let it ring. The recipient picked up after a few rings.

"I'm going to need a favor from you," Ana said softly as she watched San saunter off of the stage and into the crowd of customers with a rose in his mouth and a smile on his face. The smirk struggling to appear on her face broke through onto her features. "You know how to dance, right?"

If the drive home from the dance concert was exhilarating, the drive into work the next day was unparalleled. San walked into El Diablo Caliente feeling like he had just won the lottery.

"You were spectacular," San's manager said as greeting. He hadn't seen this big of a smile on her face in weeks. "The other three were also amazing. But San, you were truly possessed with some kind of dance God." She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. "These are the earnings from last night."

San's mind bobbled at the number. It was bigger than what they had received in a week ever since Ana's Taqueria opened. "That's phenomenal," he said breathlessly.

"You're phenomenal," the manager countered. "San, you saved the restaurant."

Needless to say, it was one of San's best days as a waiter. Customers that had fallen in love with his performance appeared today to have more of their delicious food and see the handsome waiter and dancer.

"Do you still have the rose?" A young man asked with stars in his eyes around midday. San was more than happy to oblige - when he brought the food over to him, a rose hung in his mouth. He was then subsequently tipped almost half of the meal price.

But San's good day, no matter how good it was, didn't last forever. Walking out of the restaurant to go home, San noticed a new sign on Ana's Taqueria's wall. His stomach dropped to his feet.

The sign advertised a dance night with "four phenomenal men" in two weeks from today. San read through the sign again and again. Each time, it sounded more and more like the exact show that he and his friends had put on the night before. He whipped out his phone and took a picture of the sign and sent it to his manager, his head swimming with thoughts and worries.

They couldn't do that, not when El Diablo Caliente had just hosted a dance night. San strapped on his seatbelt and started his car, but sat in the parking lot, staring at the rival restaurant. There wasn't much he could do. They hadn't trademarked or claimed dancing as their own original thought - Ana's Taqueria could do whatever they wanted to do. But that still left the knot in San's stomach unresolved, and he was filled with a sudden burst of anger and resentment for the restaurant.

San turned off his car and hopped out. He made his way across the street and walked into Ana's Taqueria.

"I'd like to speak with the manager," San said as greeting when he threw open the door. He must have looked odd still dressed in his work uniform. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but a good amount of customers still stared at him as he strode past the welcome podium and headed towards the cashier.

"Is Ana here?" He asked as evenly as he could to the young girl that was seated at the cashier with wide eyes.

"She is," the cashier said slowly to him, her eyes flickering around the store. San felt bad for a minute - perhaps he was being too harsh to a poor girl that had no decision in the dance night - but then someone that only could have been Ana appeared behind the counter, and the rage settled comfortably back into his chest.

She couldn't have been much older than him. Ana had curly blonde hair that was pulled back into a carefree low bun on the nape of her neck and had piercing eyes. She grinned with an alluring smile when she saw him and San's anger flared up.

"Hello," he said, giving her a small nod. "I'm San. A waiter from El Diablo Caliente."

"Your performance last night was truly something," Ana said softly and gave him a sweet smile. San wanted to punch her in the face. "I didn't attend, but I could see you and your friends performing from over here. You're all very talented."

"Thank you," San managed to say. "I noticed you're also having a dance night."

Ana's smile widened. "I do hope you don't mind," she said. "We're friends, are we not?"

San's mouth twitched. "Not just because we both work at Mexican restaurants that are close by," San said, trying to prevent any sort of emotion from appearing on his face.

Ana frowned. "Well, that's not very sportsmanlike, is it?" She said, resting her elbows on the counter. "We're simply hiring dancers as your restaurant did. There's nothing stopping me from doing this. It's simply a good idea."

Not when you're tearing our business to the ground, San wanted to say. Not when you're stealing and profiting off of our idea just because we thought of something better than you did.

"It is a good idea," San said instead. "But we thought of it first. It's abundantly clear that you copied us rather than simply taking inspiration. Four dancers? You at least have been subtle."

Ana's eyes shimmered with something that made San's stomach flip. "Well, I've already hired the dancers," she shrugged. "They're professional, actually. We paid good money for them."

San thought about how El Diablo Caliente's dancers were just college students and his blood boiled. "We're both Mexican restaurants, yes?" He started, not sure of where he was going with this. His emotions were driving this talk. Ana watched him in amusement like this was some mildly entertaining comedy show.

"Then let's have a dance competition," San offered. "If we're as good as you said we were, and your dancers are professional, it should be fun. Just some friendly competition."

Ana's eyes were shining now. "Sounds like a wonderful idea. At our restaurant? Our stage is much bigger than yours."

"Sure," San said evenly. "And also on the night that your poster says on your wall. Think of it as a community event."

They both knew that this competition wasn't just against the dancers - it was a competition against the Mexican restaurants. Ana had made this competition personal by twisting El Diablo Caliente's unique ideas into her own. San was ready to run her into the ground.

"I'll have the sign changed by tomorrow morning," Ana said idly. "It was truly a pleasure meeting you, San. Train hard. You'll need it." He could swear that he saw fire flare up in her eyes. She gave a goodbye wave, then disappeared into the back of the restaurant, her curly hair bouncing against her neck as she trailed away.

When San unlocked his phone in his car only minutes later, his phone was blown up by texts from his manager.

Copiers! She had texted. The nerve. What the hell?

San quickly texted the deal he had made with Ana to his manager, who responded with excitement. You four will destroy them, she said, and San could only hope she was right. In actuality, he had no idea how he was going to pull this off. But luckily, he wasn't alone.

"They sound awful," Yunho said during their second practice. Now that it had rolled into July, the sun beat down on them harder than ever. All four of them were sporting muscle t-shirts to feel more comfortable, but it was still sweltering.

"Right?" San could only agree. "They saw how well we did and decided to copy our idea."

"Do you have any idea who the other four will be?" Mingi asked, and then took a long drink of water. Wooyoung was crouched next to him, listening intently.

San shook his head. "I just know that they're professionals," he sighed. "Ana contacted my manager and said that there will be judges. I don't know exactly what will happen if we win or lose."

"It sounds like we just need to please the crowd, though," Wooyoung pointed out. "If it's just a dance-off, there's nothing that's directly on the line for the restaurants themselves. If I enjoy a performance enough, I won't care what the judges say."

"But we still should win," San said. "If we want to knock down Ana a few pegs." San crouched down and turned on his phone. The familiar sound of Juanes blasted through the speakers, and the rest of them stood up straighter.

"Let's kick ass, shall we?" San said while stretching his arms, and the others nodded with vigor.

The days flew by. Between waiting tables and practicing with Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yunho for the competition, San was booked. More than once he had collapsed onto his bed after he got home from his shift and fell asleep immediately. When he was awake, he spent most of his idle time worrying about the dance battle.

He was confident in their group. He admired and respected the other three tremendously and felt pride in his own abilities. But there was still that fear and that unknown element of the professional dancers. How good would they be? San imagined them wiping the floor with his team and his stomach did a backflip. They had to win. He had to win.

The days ticked down to the competition, and soon the four of them were entering Ana's Taqueria on the night of the competition. They wore clothes similar to they had in their first performance, but instead had matching shiny red vests. "They match with the roses really well," Mingi had said with his rose in between his teeth.

Once they were inside, Yunho scouted the restaurant and spotted Ana's professional group of dancers. He nudged San and nodded his head towards them.

The first aspect of them that San noticed about them was how young they were. The group seemed the same age as San's group, perhaps even younger than them. On the back of all of their black shirts in shiny lettering was Stray Dancers.

"They're not professional," Yunho hissed. "They're just another college group. I know them. Did Ana just tell us they're professional dancers to scare us?"

"Felix!" Wooyoung cried, oblivious to their nervous chatter, and clapped the back of one of the rival dancers. San, Yunho, and Mingi tensed.

"He knows one of them?" San asked to no one in particular.

"Wooyoung knows everyone, it seems," Mingi said as Wooyoung began to laugh with Felix and the other three dancers as if they were best friends.

"I guess it will be good for us if the tension isn't there," Yunho said, and they all nodded. "It's more of a friendly competition that way. We just need to beat them for Ana."

San let Wooyoung fraternize with the enemy for a while longer before he walked up to him and pulled on his shirt. "Woo, let's get ready," he said cheerfully, though his insides were starting to swim.

"San!" Wooyoung cried. "Meet the Stray Dancers. I've worked with them before." San opened his mouth to stop him, but Wooyoung had already started his extroverted spiel. "This is Felix, this is Chan, this is Hyunjin, and this is Minho," he said, pointing to each one of them, who waved kindly to San in return. San didn't love the idea that Wooyoung was friends with their opponents, but it helped ease the anxiety in his stomach.

"Hi," he said to each of them and nodded. "Nice to meet you guys," he said quickly, "but Wooyoung, we have to go." Without waiting for a reply or protest, San snagged Wooyoung and dragged him away from the Stray Dancers before he could strike up more conversation.

"I was having a nice time," Wooyoung whined when they were a good distance away and back with Yunho and Mingi.

"You can talk to them after the competition," Mingi said wisely, and San was relieved that someone felt similar to him. "The show starts soon anyway. We should stretch now, even if we're not the first ones on stage."

That was at least one good aspect of it all - San could at least gauge how good the Stray Dancers were before they took the stage. "Right, let's find a place," Yunho agreed, glancing around the restaurant to find a place to stretch. San was about to point out a room that seemed to be unoccupied when he saw Tía María in the crowd.

"Go on without me, I'll be there in a minute," San said, and rushed over to her. "María," he said, the happiness in his voice not unnoticed. "I'm so glad you're here. Thank you for coming here to support me."

"Make sure to wipe them to the floor, Santiago," Tía María said as greeting, and San was surprised at how upfront she was. She must have noticed the shock to cross his face, so she continued to speak. "I dislike Ana. I just want to see that smile gone from her face." She nodded over to the other side of the restaurant, and Ana was there. She was casually chatting with a customer, but San felt the resentment bubble in his stomach regardless.

"We will, Tía," San said, even if he didn't quite believe it himself.

Tía María smiled. "It's just like being a waiter, Santiago. You are here to cater to the public. You've already proven yourself to be wonderful to people - full of expression and charms. But you also are humble and kind. This competition is no different. Show them Santiago and they will come back to El Diablo Caliente in no time." She stood up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"Estarás asombrando, mijo," she said, and San's heart filled up with love. He was ready if Tía María believed he was ready.

Shortly after his warmup with the other three dancers, they situated themselves at a table to watch the Stray Dancers perform. While Ana walked up on stage and introduced the Stray Dancers, San glanced around and found the judges near the front of the stage. They didn't seem particularly uptight or fancy - all three of them wore casual clothing. It was odd how laid back Ana had staged this. Did she really think this competition would be easy to win?

And then the Stray Dancers began to perform. Unbeknownst to San before, their black Stray Dancers tshirts had little pins of the Mexico flag above their heart, and they danced with castanets that made pleasant clicking noises. San was impressed with their ingenuity. The clicks frequently matched up with their footwork and gave the illusion that they were tap dancing. Not only that, all four of them were equally mesmerizing and pleasing to watch.

Minho was frequently in the center and made most of the crowd members swoon. Hyunjin did a move with his legs that caused someone to whistle during their performance. Chan had wondrous arms that were mesmerizing to look at each time he raised them and clicked his castanets. Felix was more fluid than a river and made his intricate dance moves look easy. But as good as they were, San felt pride in himself and his teammates. He thought they could win.

The crowd burst into applause once they were finished. "It's time," Yunho whispered and stood up, the rest of them following suit. Wooyoung sauntered up to the stage first and high-fived all four of the Stray Dancers as they descended from the stage. San risked a glance at Ana and found her eyes already on him. She had a sinister sort of smile that, to a random onlooker, looked like she was amused. He looked away and tried to shake her steel eyes from his vision.

Ana, like she did with her own group of dancers, introduced San's group to the audience. "And San Choi," she finished, and the crowd whooped and cheered as he gave a bow and smile to the crowd. As Ana walked off of the stage, she glanced at San. However, this time, he was looking at her already. San raised his eyebrows and smiled a devious smile. Then, Juanes began to play, and San's body was taken over by the dancing demon that he had cultivated dearly in their weeks of practice.

The performance was exhilarating. It was a mass catharsis of the tension and stress San had built up from this competition, and the audience only saw it as marvelous stage presence. He took the time to do certain moves with more fluidity and sensuality. The rose was in and out of his mouth. He managed to fit in multiple winks, smirks, and run his hands through his gelled and dark hair. Every movement from the first chord of the song to the last made the entire culture of Mexico smile down on him. He knew this because when the music ended and the clapping started, Tía María's eyes were shining with a fondness and pride that could only come straight from the heart.

"San, you were insane on stage," Yunho commented when they walked off of the stage amidst the cheers and clapping. "What possessed you?"

"Spite," San said. He had found Ana's eyes once again. She seemed calm, as though San had not just delivered a show-stopping performance in a tiny Mexican restaurant. He gave her a wink and did not give any more attention to her. The judges may have had the final say in the competition, but San knew that customers would flock back to El Diablo Caliente regardless of the outcome. Their cheers were more like roars and were infinitely louder than the ones that the Stray Dancers had received.

"That was sick," Chan said to San as he passed them by. The rest of them gave smiles.

"Thank you, you four were also amazing," San said idly, thinking about the results. They reached their table and sat down.

"I think we won," Wooyoung whispered to them immediately after they were situated.

"No doubt," Mingi agreed.

"I hope," San said to them. He watched the judges shuffle around in their seats and finish taking notes. Then, one of them stood up and began to walk towards the microphone. San's stomach became a gymnast.

"Here we go," he whispered, his heart rate picking up. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, turning to Mingi. Mingi was the one that had told the judges their team name, like how Ana's group was called the Stray Dancers. "What exactly did you name us?"

Mingi smiled at him.

"Both performances were spectacular," the judge said into the microphone, surprisingly jovial. The Stray Dancers and San's group snapped their heads to the stage to listen. "But we think this group did an exceptional job of pumping up the crowd while also keeping the integrity of Mexican music, and therefore deserves the win. Congratulations to Santiago and his Rosy Men, you're our winners."

"Santiago and what?" San gaped at Mingi while the restaurant exploded into cheers. "Mingi, you-"

"We won," he said, clapping him on the back. "Go and celebrate. Don't think too much about it." He was smiling so wide. San sighed and matched his smile. They had won.

Tía María was glowing as she approached their table. She promptly went over to San and kissed his cheek before giving him the biggest hug he had ever felt from her. "Maravilloso," she whispered while she rubbed his back. San felt tears touch his eyelids and he hugged her tighter. They had done it, and had made one of San's most beloved people happy.

After Tía María left San's embrace, Ana approached them with a stiffness. "Congratulations," she said, giving them a smile. But San had seen Ana smile before, and this was not her usual snarky smile. This was a fake smile, a smile that had been punched with the loss of her dance team. San relished in her discomfort.

"Thank you," San said, giving her a smile that was genuine and a little bit more. "Maybe next time, don't try to copy us at our own game." He smiled as her face contorted with anger and frustration. She stormed off away from them, and the four of them high-fived each other.

The next day. business didn't just boom, it exploded. San walked into El Diablo Caliente the next day and it was like Ana's Taqueria had never opened. The restaurant was packed and the other servers were happy to see him. The customers were especially happy to see him. The girls that he had served months ago waved at him. "You were so cool on stage!" One said as he passed by, and San took the opportunity to give her a wink.

"I know."

He left their gasping expressions for the back of the restaurant where he clocked in and got ready to work. As he rolled up his sleeves, he couldn't help but look at how much more alive El Diablo Caliente was now. Although the store hadn't had a paint job recently, the red walls glowed with newness. People in the restaurant smiled extra widely as they feasted on their meal.

But that was not what tickled San the most about his restaurant. The icing on the cake was the amount of cars in the parking lot. Less than half of the amount of cars that they had were in the lot of Ana's Taqueria. Everything, finally, had fallen back into a blissful harmony, and San was elated to be a part of the melody of the restaurant once again. San let his charming façade wash over him like a waterfall and felt the tingling warmth of a new day in the restaurant he appreciably called home.

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