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evanchantingpeters · 8 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on.

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?”

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?”

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face.

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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rebelrebelwrites · 2 years ago

Text

I’ve decided to resurrect…

Fic Friday! ❤️ Weekly Fic Recs

Years ago, I did this back in the Reylo fandom, but I’m bringing it back for the Saurondriel/Haladriel fandom because: A) I’m still obscenely obsessed B) I’m all about supporting creators and C) Since I’m not currently writing for this fandom, I want to contribute how I can. 😊

Let’s do it!

This week’s recs are…

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal reading preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: Across That Fine Line by @myrsinemezzo

What you need to know going in:

A post-S1 that’s got hype for great reason. After stealing the mithril and Fëanor’s hammer, Sauron spirits away to Mordor with Gal hot on his heels. Once they reunite, things get spicy — we’re talking banter, manipulation (on both sides), a devious and devoted Sauron who’s also terrified of falling too far in love (too late, bro), and a Gal who’s rightfully wary but wants to believe that there’s a way to thread the needle with him. As their journey progresses, so does the depth of their dynamic. Plus! Some awesome inclusions/characters from Tolkien lore. All in all, an absolute must-read.

WIP, Rated Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and on AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: our souls were made from the stars by SilverWing12

What you need to know going in:

Oh gosh, where to even begin??? This lush, brilliant, meticulously measured slow burn of an AU is something I bask in every update. This story sees Mairon delayed in joining Melkor, and instead, he meets Galadriel in Valinor while she's still a child. Hundreds of years pass in which their friendship grows and grows, building to a point of mutual attraction and affection that is stifling in how well-realized and precarious it feels. The world-building, intentionality, pacing, characterization, and mounting pressure in this fic as Mairon falls deeper into darkness and Galadriel grows more suspicious (though both are clearly in love with each other) is simply luxurious.

WIP, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: Queen of the Southlands by @formerlyir

What you need to know going in:

Gal doesn’t find out about Sauron’s deception for years, and as a result, she becomes his Queen. The post-S1 ensuing romance, angst, delicious tension and SCORCHING smut is sublime. Get ready for a delightfully unhinged, very devoted Sauron and a Gal who’s rightfully sharp, incredibly brave, and demands what she’s owed. This fic more than sticks the landing at the conclusion — it shreds it. In the absolute best way. I cheered, folks. Cheered.

Complete, Rated Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Twitter, Instagram, on AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): Litost by @demonscantgothere

What you need to know going in:

It’s no secret that this story, as with every other story I’ve read by Helholden, is wonderful — expect to see their work on this list a few times at least. That being said, I think Litost might be my favorite. It’s post-S1, but by many years, starting with Galadriel being captured and brought back to Numenor as a prisoner of Ar-Pharazôn and his new High Priest of the Cult of Melkor… wonder who that could be? 👀🙃 You guessed it, everyone’s favorite Dark Lord! The resulting twists and turns in this fic continue to surprise, and the angst and longing (on both sides) simmers. The dialogue between these two, when they really communicate, is stellar at getting at the heart of their every conflict. It will pierce you — and you’ll love it.

WIP, Rated Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr or AO3.

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The Can't Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: Instruments of Salvation by @scriberated

What you need to know going in:

It's Gal who gets hurt when Orodruin erupts, and as a result, Sauron must save her the only way he can — by forging a bond, all while she still believes he's Halbrand, rightful king of the Southlands. As with all of Scriberated's works, the writing is impeccable, the smut is steamy as all hell, and the characterization is 🤌🤌🤌. As Gal and Hal/Sauron's bond grows in strength, so does the pace at which you'll consume this tantalizing treat of a fic. Stop reading because it's bedtime? Doubtful.

WIP, Rated Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr or AO3.

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don't see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don't fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend... ❤️

Until next week!

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #galadriel x sauron #galadriel x halbrand #halbrand x galadriel #sauriel #fanfic #fic recs #saurondriel fanfic #haladriel fanfic

76 notes · View notes

stayxlix · 2 years ago

Note

I've been saving off the deep end to read once I had a break between exams

BRUH THAT STORYYYYYYY!! Pls don't mind my analysis and play-by-play reactions😩

You're writing style is so good I love the descriptions and how you manage to make everything so vivid. District 7's description was so on point, I really like how I could visualize it.... The tavern, the roads, the forests, the people...

"Cold rings on his fingers pressed into bare skin" goodbye I'd fold so fast✋✋✋ like yes he's a stranger but BRO

"He hesitantly brought his thumb up to run it over your bottom lip," I- 😀

I'm barely 2k into this story and already feeling a scream creeping up my throat.

"Without another word or giving you the chance to respond, he turned to go." Now excuse me dear sir✋ Get your outer district ass back here👹

How are you gonna make out w/ me then just dip💀 survival ig but STILL

"....so many eyes on you, permanently associating you with your father and his regime," SO WELL WRITTEN UGH CHEF'S KISS

I love the mc (main character) so much. They've won my favour so fast, uncharacteristically so. This is the kind of 'y/n' that we need to see more often! The change, the hero.

"A life with him certainly wouldn't involve tight corsets and suffocating lies." How are we so sure about the latter sweetie👀

But mc is better than me I'd probably be going there (district 7) every night in hopes of seeing him. But the chances are low considering he was on the run😔 Rational thinking ftw I guess?

"He had probably already forgotten about you." NAURRR😭 (I could never be this mature... To admit this to myself in such a situation? Nope)

"...followed by the glass walls of the hall shattering to pieces around you." Ok THIS PART IN THE STORY✋ Loveeee the build up of tension. I feel like I'm there omg.

"six..seven..maybe eight figures dressed in all black with bandana...." OOOH👀👀👀 !!! STRAY KISS WOO

"a group of your father's guards run up and make contact with the boys, tossing a couple of them their own guns."😨 HUH? OMG WHAT???? Betrayal of the century purrr😻

"The boy who had kissed you in the alley two weeks ago." GOODBYE CBFNFNFBFV

I should've seen this coming butt I'm FLABBERGASTED

Let's goooo😩😩✋ Also thank you for making it brown hair Felix, like THANK YOU😋 (btw this ask is so long sorryyyy)

"You swear you saw the faintest hint of a smirk... " OFFICIALLY HOLLERING RN AARGHHHH

No bc I hope he kidnaps mc😘 and Jisoo ofc😻 let's go live in the trenches 😋

NO the guards ruined it😒 Can they duck off istg

"Were you protecting him? " Dgfhgkhmkdxnh

"You mouthed "go" and if you had blinked you would have missed the nod he gave you in return." I need a minute🤒 A longgggg minute to process this

"Why would the boys risk their lives to send a message? " THIS IS SUCH AN ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF SKZ HELP

Like that's LITERALLY THEM

"As far as he knew, you were just like the rest of them." Bro this story is INTENSE

On that more I will be leaving for now, I need to eat and process this story before continuing it is so bloody good

Again, I'm so sorry for how long this is

omg so i just want to start by saying that from the bottom of my heart i am so touched by this. i seriously think i re-read it at least 7 times and i can’t even begin to express how much it means to me that you took the time out of your day to go through and immerse yourself into the story the way you did.😭💕 the play-by-play literally had me giggling to myself like a CHILD lmao you’re actually so funny like i wish i could hire you to narrate my life.😂

this is the first/only fic i’ve ever written and you complimented some of the parts i was most insecure about without even knowing it and i just. thank you.🥹💕 like your comment about the mc i could actually cry. and it’s always nice to find another dark hair felix stan because as much as i love the blonde (and i really do) i just couldn’t imagine him any other way here.

please don’t ever feel the need to apologize for how much you write this is what i LIVE for and it gives me so much motivation to continue the story. you could write an entire novel and i would happily sit down and read every single word.😊 i hope you got something good to eat (and that your exams went well) and i hope the rest of your day/night has been just as good as this made mine.💕💕💕

#alex answers asks♡#otde.

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sitp-recs · 2 years ago

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Hidden Gems by @blamebrampton

Anyone who’s been following me for a while knows I worship the ground BB walks on. She’s probably among my top 3 Drarry fic authors of all time and I can confidently say I’ve read her catalogue in its entirety but curiously enough, I still get the same thrill of joy and excitement revisiting her works once twice thrice a month. BB’s narrative is very unique with nuanced and refreshing characterization, and organic witty humour playing in an effective, effortlessly charming and clever way that feels magical. It creates immersive universes and atmospheres that invite you to lose yourself into, different from anything I’ve read before or since. Beyond the incredible world building, her dialogue is a thing of beauty in itself, delightful and brilliant, packing just enough emotional resonance to make you wanna scream after a particularly clever line. It makes my job to find a quote for my recs so much more challenging! The feeling of first exploring BB’s world is exquisite and her masterful characterization never fail to impress me, it’s truly genius.

It was almost impossible to make a short list of hidden gems and it hurt my soul to stray from so many personal faves since they’re a bit more popular. But I’m sticking to the rules and that means highlighting fics that could use more attention. Words usually fail me when I’m trying to convey how much I love certain fics so feel free to check the single recs I’ve linked below - if you’re willing to suffer through my rambling thoughts, that is! I’m sure I’ve recced most of her catalogue at this point. And please please go check it ASAP, if you haven’t yet. These fics have stayed with me for many years now, they helped me through dark days and still comfort my heart whenever I need solace in fandom, I can’t imagine letting go of them anytime soon. I think of them now, 10 years after they’ve been written, and I’ll be thinking of them for the next 10 years. If you’re having one of those days - or just looking for a new obsession a special, one-of-a-kind reading experience - you can’t pick a better author. Go check these right now then come into my DMs to scream about Little Red Courgette all of them! You’re welcome 😉

And Save Me From Bloody Men (2010, T, 10k) - the only war AU you’ll ever need to read, a true masterpiece of characterization and building tension with tender Drarry romance, badass redeemed Draco and a breathtaking open ending that will make you gasp out loud. A must read!

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching. Read my rec here.

Tidings of Comfort (2012, G, 10k) - this cathartic series is on my top 3 fave comfort fics, beautifully quiet and cathartic. Featuring a redeemed Draco and a gentle curious Harry, late night conversations and

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover. Read my rec here.

Of Hoof Picks, Centaurs and Flight (2012, G, 21k) - such a charming and fun adventure, I can’t get enough of it! Perfect Draco, lots of banter, centaurs, flying cars and the good old bed sharing trope 👌🏼

Harry has promised that he will not do anything to upset the new head of Magical Creatures. Even if it is Draco Malfoy. When three centaur foals appear in Cumbria, far from the Forbidden Forest and all too close to Muggles, Harry’s promise is thoroughly tested. To say nothing of his equestrian skills. Read my rec here.

For the Public Good (2008, T, 23k) - a brilliant satire of British politics and definitely a must-read if you’re into this genre. BB gets Draco’s snark just right and the banter is fabulous, not to mention the creative world building as per usual. Fun, smart, flirty, highly entertaining!

Harry is loaned to the Muggle government to assist relations between the two governments after the London bombings. When his counterpart in the Communications team comes to him with evidence of a plot to expose wizarding Britain, he is all ears. And only in part because the messenger has such a familiar voice.

Doing the Lambeth Walk (2012, T, 26k) - brilliant urban drama with fabulous world building, soft Draco and Harry doing good deeds and finding each other, slow burn, some family drama and non-graphic violence

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works. Choosing to lead it in Muggle Brixton comes with its own set of challenges, including Malfoys in the biscuit aisle. Read my rec here.

Beneath Boundless Skies (2008, T, 29k) - imho this fic is a the testament to BB’s storytelling skills as it will make you laugh, cry and fall in love within minutes. What a rollercoaster of emotions! Set in the Australian landscape it delivers brilliant OCs, organic character dynamics, and the most touching, heart wrenching funeral scene. A gorgeous and poignant post-war recovery story.

Home is a world filled with funerals, a girlfriend who can't bear the sight of you, and people who are convinced you came back from the dead. Bugger it, even Australia sounds good.

The Consolations of a Summer's Day (2012, T, 32k) - this is such a delightful and well put together case fic, I adore Harry and Draco’s dynamics right from the start and how circumstances push them closer. Subtle romance, alternating POVs, a perfect Luna and a hilarious Kreacher as a treat! Cw: character death (Pansy)

Harry Potter is absolutely certain Draco Malfoy did not murder Pansy Parkinson. He’s almost absolutely certain he can prove this without sacrificing his career and having them both hauled up before the Wizengamot.

#hidden gems s2 #day 4

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hypnomastersworld · 3 years ago

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Tick Tock, Suck Cock

I'm sure most, if not all of you, watch porn, yes?

I'd be suprised if you didn't heh

I'd like you to remember the last time you watched a porn fully, from start to finish

Not just a simple click and move on, but really got into it, Can you remember?

You can remember how your eyes were glued to the screen, perhaps with one hand pleasuring yourself, and you just got so focused on the porn and pleasing yourself, weren't you?

Just imagine how it felt, so incredibly locked in, looking deeply into the screen as your eyes glaze over, your body writhing with need and pleasure as you edge yourself so you can enjoy all of it, longer, it's better that way, isn't it?

Just focused so deeply, so instensly, as your hands work their magic and your eyes focus on the screen

Everything around you, the room, any noises, any sensations, all of them cease to exist... it's why it's so easy to get caught while masturbating, dont you agree?

Because you're so focused on the porn, on watching such erotic smut, with all of it's pleasurable sounds, sights, and senses as you bask yourself in the erotic imagery you're locked into

Just imagine your favorite one, salivating at the the desire and thought of how much you wish you could really be experiencing it yourself...

As you slink back, relax, and just let your mind and hands work their magic... your focus narrowing as your eyes, glazed and focused, just start to slowly weigh down into half slits...

It feels so good to let go and leave everything behind, immersing yourself in the porn, into your pleasure, isn't it?

Let your hands wander freely over your body, letting your mind release any tension as the pleasure begins to build... and build...

As the pleasure and exictement in your body rises, your mind and thoughts sink deeper... and deeper...

Porn brings out such primal desires, such instinctual thoughts within us... turning us from intelligent humans into carnal beasts...

You don't need to think when you're lost in lust, do you?

It feels good to watch porn...

It feels better to be unable to think...

You don't need to think when you're watching porn, do you?

You just need to let go... the more your mind is blank.... the better it feels.... isn't that right?

Just imagine... Thinking of your favorite porn... feeling your eyes glaze over... your hands wandering... touching... rubbing... stroking...

Letting soft moans escape your lips... unable to control your lust... unable to control your mind as your thoughts dribble out...

The more you think of porn, the more you watch porn, the more your mind devolves... deeper and deeper...

You start to feel yourself making animalistic noises... feeling unable to think...

Animals don't need to think, do they?

Watching porn all day... You know you can't lie... You know deep inside how much you're addicted to it...

Just rubbing and watching... losing your mind each and every time

Slowly.... more and more you feel yourself transforming... losing your humanity as your lust becomes all that matters....

Feeling your hips thrusting... your mind empting out... such a thoughtless, primal, lustful animal you are... aren't you?

Grunting and grinding... Now fully feeling yourself letting go into it... Following me now down... and down....

As I count you further into it... further into your true, natural, primal state... Where you belong, deep down and blank... Deep down and empty... Ready to follow

That's right, admitting your truth, admitting how ready you are to count down from 10 to 1 with me... giving away the last of your humanity as you become your true form, your instinctual, lustful, carnal beast that you are Because it feels so much better when you're lost in lust, pumped full of pleasure, doesn't it?

Good... now count with me down.... 10

One, and drop deeper than before, deeper than you expected... down and down

So deep, so open, so ready to follow

Just a blank beast, an empty entity

Lustful and needy, yet completely devoid of thought, no mind only matter

Deep and ready, acknolwedge how you are

Good, and remembering how good it felt to give to your lust, your primal desires...

Now, focusing on my words as I teach you how to be an even better beast because good beasts are always ready to fuck, and suck, and lose their minds to lust.

Right now, in my hands, I am carrying a small clock

This clock carries the power to charm all kinds of beasts, Like a snake charmer's flute, the sounds it makes moves minds

Of course, it works best on primal, needy, porn addicted beasts like yourself

Are you excited to see how it works on you?

I can feel your excitement... dripping from you, wet and hot... ready to please and be pleasured... aren't you?

Now, as I flip the switch on the clock... You start to hear a ***tick tock***

And with each and every word I type

Hear the tick, and tock, of this old clock

As the rhythm Flips a switch in your mind

You can't help but feel it... growing and growing

Sudden Need

Desire to Suck

You feel stronger and stronger

TICK

TOCK

The noise you hear

Becoming clearer and louder

Making it so clear

That you just need to suck

You feel it, in your mind, deep inside

It's not a want, it's a need

You hear the words ready to escape your mouth

***Tick tock, Must Suck Cock***

It's a need, a primal desire

Feeling inside so deep this fire

Repeating it again as the moan escapes your lips

Tick, tock, you hear this old clock

With each word, the sound grows louder, as does your desire to suck

In fact, if it's safe for you to do so, if you have something nearby that is clean and shaped like a cock, you should begin to suck it

Feel it passing through your lips, as your tongue wraps around it, and if you don't have something, you may still feel a phantom cock entering your needy mouth

As the clock ticks and tocks over and over

The urge grows louder and louder

Sucking, dripping your mouth all over it

Only feeling satisfied when you fufill that desire

That need

Such a beast you are

Repeat your truth again

It feels good knowing you can't control it

The clock controls you

Guides you

Urges you

Compels you

You don't have a choice

You must.

Again.

It feels best knowing that you can't help yourself

Such a beast you are, a helpless animal to your lust

Feeling your desire overwhelming you, growing as you edge yourself higher and higher

Salivating at the excitement you feel

Now, in a moment I will count up to 5, and when i reach 5 you will awaken... still horny, still lustful... still needy but with a sudden urge to watch your favorite porn. But this time, your excitement and lust will be twice as much as you've ever felt it... making your eventual release so much, much more exciting than ever before

And all the while you're watching it, feeling a strong urge deep inside to... ***tick tock***

That's right, but only if it is safe and okay for you to do so, otherwise you can find an object shaped like a cock that is clean and safe to suck

Is that clear?

Slowly coming up...

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

All the way up.

#brainwashing #hypno slave #hypnodoll #hypnokink #hypnosis #hypnotist #hypnotized #hypnotized girl #mind control #trance

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levicanpunchme · 4 years ago

Note

Hi i found your profile today and I read all of it I am SO IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING!!💕Hope u are doing well and getting enough rest!Can i please request Levixfem!reader where they watch scary movie and reader is scared during and after the horror movie maybe u can do hc with levi or one shot!If u like the idea and u are ok to do it can u put much fluff?💕🥺

Thank you for suggesting! Hope you enjoy ;)

——————————————————————

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warning: Contains a tiny make-out description

Movie Night Gone Right

The air seemed to be drowning in thick tension, terror bustling in your veins as you held onto the edge of your blanket. You scoffed to yourself: modern technology had really evolved so much: the large television screen amplified every emotion especially whilst watching horror movies. It felt like the heinous predators would jump out of the screen any moment, making you piss yourself.

The darkness in the room and eerie music from the television made it impossible for your mind to gravitate elsewhere. Your body was taut as you held your breath while the stupid main characters died one after another in the haunted villa.

You looked to your far right at your boyfriend, who seemed quite unaffected by the countless jump scares. Even whilst watching a terrifying movie, you didn’t see him bat an eye.

He was either too brave or-borderline sociopathic. You hoped for the former.

“Why’re you always choosing horror movies on our date nights, Levi?” You bitterly muttered, your annoyance visible in your tone. Every weekend, you both watched a new movie and he chose horror every damn time.

Your boyfriend looked away from the screen, his wolf-like eyes reading yours. His dark black hair attractively fell like curtains on his forehead, disheveled and messy.

“Because they’re fun,” he monotonously replied.

His response made you speechless. “Fun? What part of large scale man-slaughter and cannibalism, fun?” You cried, disturbed at his reasoning. Horror movies just gave you vivid nightmares and trauma. You usually spent weekend nights with Levi just because you were too scared to head back to your dorm.

Levi’s lips curled into an unapologetic smirk as he glanced back to the television screen. You glared at him narrowly and then resumed watching the movie. A few minutes in, another terrifying scream erupted from the television and your body grew cold, your blanket now scrunched within your clenched fists.

“You’re shaking,” Levi’s soft voice pulled you out of the gory massacres of the movie. He swiftly scooted closer to you as his arm found its way around the small of your back. He wrapped you close to him, your face resting against his chest.

Your chest ached with joy as you heard his heartbeat, trashing against your frame, sending vibrations through your body. His familiar soapy scent washed over you and ignited a deep fire within the pit of your stomach. Your scent mixing with his made your toes curl in pleasure. You liked stealing some of his sweatshirts to take them back to your dorm just to smell him on you. The warmth of his breath cascading down your forehead sent tingles down your spine, making your heart ache with jitters. It was the feeling of being beside him that gave you pleasure.

The movie watching experience was ten times better with Levi holding your body.

Levi’s arm around your frame never loosened. Your warmth embracing him gave him the unfamiliar feeling of a home. His head was filled with you alone, so much so that he didn’t even know who the hell the main characters were in the movie; a week of pent up frustration from not seeing you starting to quench as your warmth diffused into him, making him feel like he were a part of you.

He started dating you a few months ago and it was crazy how damn clingy he had gotten in just a matter of months. At first, he never intended on letting a woman into his territory but you defeated the strong walls that were guarding his heart. When he tasted the sweetness of your lips, he forgot every promise he had made to himself and felt his walls shatter into nothingness.

Levi wanted to snatch you away from the shackles of your university which constantly demanded your attention, keeping you busy with assignments and exams; he wished to burn the whole building down along with your dorm so you could live with him, giving him the epiphany of waking up beside you. He hated anything which took you away from him. Selfish, yes but he couldn’t help it.

He dug his nose into your silky hair, acting subtle so you wouldn’t catch onto his motives. He wanted to run his fingers down the long strands all day, but he couldn’t. No matter how weak you had him, he didn’t want that side to be seen by you.

If he scared you away with his carelessness, he’d throw himself off a rooftop.

He surveyed you, and rechecked for any signs of awareness but seeing the intense emotions in your eyes, he realised you were sucked up into the haunted world of the movie.

He silently smiled to himself and inhaled your scent. Your fragrance was so therapeutic, a fresh breeze of comfort to his exhausted body. His insides squeezed in joy. You were like a heavenly addiction, fulfilling his needs, comforting his emotions.

“Levi, that woman was the imposter all along!” Automatically, his eyes regained its indifference, the smile of his lips disintegrating as he peeled his eyes away from you to the screen.

You looked up at him while snuggling in his chest. Levi pretended to be immersed within the movie and then looked down at you; he almost stopped breathing seeing your lustrous, wide eyes looking up at him like he were the only one on this planet. His breathing became shallow as he quickly nodded, and looked away from you.

“Levi...” you noticed his heaving chest.

You stared at him doubtfully and then it dawned upon you. His eyes were cold but his body said otherwise. He was so warm and his heart was beating so heavily, your stomach flooded with a mass of butterflies.

“Levi, who’s the imposter?” Your heart was skipping a beat as you tried confirming your doubts.

He visibly froze, your question catching him off guard. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his nervousness like a deer caught in headlights.

“Why're you asking me that? Aren’t you watching?” He counterattacked, hoping this would divert your attention.

You stared at him for a good minute and then looked at the television screen. “Yeah but I was just wondering if you ever doubted that white haired lady. She looked so innocent, asking for help and stuff.” You watched his reaction, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, didn’t expect that.”

Chills travelled down your spine as you realised what had been happening these past few weeks: why he always suggested on watching horror movies; why he kept on asking you when will your semester end; why he didn’t like going out to the shopping mall for dates. Everything started making sense.

“Levi, there is no white haired lady asking for help in this movie,” your breathy voice made him flinch and tense up. You had never seen Levi outrightly display his emotions but right now, you could see the little rims of his ears going darker red, a pool of redness pumping through his cheeks as his bottom lip trembled.

Processing, you grabbed the remote from his lap and turned the television off. Your heart was thudding against your ribs as you observed Levi’s clenched fist.

“Why’re you making me watch horror movies when you don’t like them yourself?” Your voice was so soft and airy, comforting him.

You were currently having the time of your life, watching your rigid, formal boyfriend emotionally overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“Answer me Levi,” you dared him.

He gripped his nape and sighed, his nose crinkled with reluctance. Very softly, his words held you astounded.

“So you can get scared and hide into my arms.” —you almost gasped, your body shrivelling as a feeling of mystical happiness engulfed your chest. Your heart palpitated as you stared at the man who owned your heart, feeling the corner of your eyes burn.

“Why didn’t you just—say so?” You whispered.

He looked up at you, his eyes hinting of annoyance. “Because,” he muttered, his words caught in his mouth. You waited patiently. You would wait forever for him, only Levi Ackerman.

“I don’t want to scare you off,” his white skin looked so flushed. Seeing him, your body instantly warmed up too.

“Levi,” his name fell from your mouth like butter. Then earnestly, you climbed on his lap, your leg on either sides of him, facing him. The bold response made you fluster, your cheeks flaring up as you stared into the grey mists of his eyes.

His reaction was instant. His body became taut under your heat as he gazed into your eyes with a suffocating intensity. He instinctively pulled you closer, pulling you into him. Closer, closer until two bodies mushed into one, not an inch of space left in between.

“Levi, I want to dwell you in so much love, so much affection that you might get tired of me and throw me away,” you started with confessing.

Both of you were new to a relationship; both had fears and doubts hurdling your paths. How much volume of love do we express? How much of love do we need to hold back? Is there an exact percentage? Will holding his hand make him uninterested? Will pulling you into his arms seem clingy? The questions were numerous; answers, numerous.

Levi’s chest was heaving in a way you never expected. His eyes were darker than usual, thunderously grey and passionate with a whirlwind of emotions erupting loose; his body was hotter and eyelids heavy as he stared at you with an intensity he never let you see before.

“I get excited when you call me to pick me up from uni-when you text me to remind me of our date nights, and when you let me see through your exterior, when you let me explore every side to you.”

It was taking everything in you to not run away and go into hiding. Your words were exposing the sides you kept to yourself but it was time to let go. It was time to let him know exactly who you belong to.

“Levi Ackerman, if it’s you, I’ll give up everything to be by your side.”

Your words were cut short as his hand held the back of your head and like a desperate wolf, he pulled your lips into his. Every fibre of your being sprung to life. It felt like all the happiness of the world was thrown at you so suddenly, you couldn’t contain your emotions. His moist lips feasted on your mouth and impatiently invaded you with his tongue. Your audible panting was almost embarrassing but you could hear him struggle to breath as well. While he rendered you breathless, his mouth drank from within you like a thirsty stray dog. His arms around you had you locked, unable to escape, nor did you want to.

As you panted to inhale some air, his lips peeled off your mouth, up to your eyelid; he kissed one and then the other. He was breathing so heavily with his nose, your heart faltered at the sounds. He ran his fingers down your silky hair strands and dropped tantalising kisses down your cheek, to your chin and your nose. “I-want-to-steal-you-away-from-the-world,” he confessed, in between mind numbing kisses. He then buried his nose inside the crevice of your neck, inhaling you shamelessly. “If I could, I would-absorb-you-within me,” the hurling emotions he had kept inside were pouring out like unforeseen rain.

He kissed your neckline, tasting and inhaling every inch of you. “I can’t get tired of you, y/n,” his soft words tugged at your heart, making your eyes well up. You were so overwhelmed by his love, and your love for him that your vision was becoming hazy.

“Levi, promise to share your true feelings with me?” You asked, your hand finding its way into his undercut, you pulled at his baby hairs, making his eyes screw shut in pleasure, a comforting sigh left his mouth.

He nodded, spellbound by your touch.

You edged your face closer, kissing the high bridge of his nose and each one of his eyebrows.

“So no more, horror movies?” You muttered resentfully against his lips. His eyes opened again and a soft smile illuminated his mouth as he kissed your plump lips again, not getting enough.

“No more horror movies,” he promised.

You giggled lovingly and kissed the corner of his warm mouth affectionately.

“Move in with me.”

You almost fell back, his words pushing you over the edge. You almost thought you misheard him but the glint of honesty in his eyes proved otherwise. He was dead serious.

“Uh—are you sure? I can be very annoying and lazy...” You didn’t think this was a good idea.

He cut you off, annoyance present in his narrow eyes. “I don’t care,” he rasped.

“I can also be quite messy and you don’t like mess-” You knew this excuse might make him reconsider.

His conviction remained unabated. “I’ll help you clean,” he quickly responded.

You held back your giggle. A day ago, if someone had told you that Levi Ackerman would be begging you with his narrow intimidating eyes to move in with him, you would’ve slapped them in the face for lying.

What changes could a day make...

“What if I don’t want to clean,” you pouted, deciding to tease him.

“Fine, I’ll clean for you,” he responded without hesitation and waited eagerly.

You broke into a melodious giggle which made him roll his eyes at you.

“Okay, Mr. Ackerman. I agree,” you casually responded and kissed his jawline.

Levi exuberantly stood up still carrying you in his arms as a huge grin elevated his facial features. “Let’s get your things.” He put you down on your feet and hurried to the table to grab his keys.

“Wait hold on... right now?” You stared at the clock. It was past midnight and your dormitory was probably closed.

Levi nodded eagerly. “Right now. We’ll request them to let us in.” Before you could object, he was already putting on his shoes and grabbing yours so you could gear up.

You stared at your boyfriend: he looked like an eager kid preparing to go to Disneyland after his parents promised him so. You wondered since how long had Levi put his inner childishness and love away, afraid of the consequences. And then Levi pulled you to the sofa, tying your shoes before you could change your mind and dragged you with him all the way to your dormitory in the later hours of the night. After fighting the guards and begging your dormitory manager, he successively managed to get you to pack up your belongings and come live with him starting that very auspicious movie night.

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

Text

these violent delights, pt. i

In an immersive theme park where cutting-edge technology makes your wildest dreams come true, the line between fantasy and reality begins to blur. enter westworld, where artificially intelligent automatons known as ‘hosts’ are programmed to fulfill your every delight.

(westworld AU, eventual host!dabi x reader, host!keigo takami x reader, eventual shouto todoroki x f!reader)

part one | part two | part three

featuring: hanta sero, denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, momo yaoyozoru, eijirou kirishima

part one: you prepare to enter the park for the bachelorette party your bridesmaids wanted. meanwhile, westworld’s capable employees prepare to roll out the latest programming update.

wc: 8.7k

pt. i warnings: smut (18+!), sci-fi dystopia, artificial intelligence, medical/surgical procedures, body modification. gun violence, robbery, kidnapping, drinking, death, no beta we die like teddy

notes: this is part one of my entry for The Smut Pile’s Western Collab! this is my very first server collab and I am so thrilled to be kicking it off with this plot monster. this is the first of three parts- it leans a little heavy on the world building, so stay tuned for parts two and three. the action dials up from here, promise! i’m excited to be putting out one of my first plot-heavy stories on this blog!

please note: part one borrows several events from season one, episodes one and two of the series. the story will branch off in its own direction in parts two and three. you do not need to be familiar with Westworld to enjoy this fic- so please give it a try! 💖

(MASTERLIST)

“This doesn’t feel right.”

Livestock Management technician Hanta Sero drifts idly from tool cart to operating table with his raven hair pulled back. He’s clad in a protective latex apron and gloves, approaching the table with a blowtorch in one hand and a long, slim pair of forceps in the other.

“That’s what it says here.” Denki Kaminari stands across the black-tiled room, his back reflected in the glass walls of the operating facility. He scrolls mindfully through a folding datapad with a crease of deep concentration in his golden brow.

Snapping his datapad shut, he lifts his chin to find Sero’s conflicted gaze across the lab.

“The specifications were pretty precise.”

“I know what the briefing said,” Sero retorts. “I just…”

He ignites the blowtorch and takes a deep breath, letting his gaze over slowly over the pale, unmarked flesh of the body stretched out on the table in front of him.

“What?” Kaminari takes in the sight before him. He lifts his eyebrows. “Oh. Well-“

He gets up from his stool, tugging his gloves back over his shirtsleeves and crossing the room toward Sero and the body in question. He picks up a scalpel, making a clean little cut just below the subject’s left nipple without any hesitation.

“Dude, stop!” Sero reaches with the hand still clutching his forceps, blanching as a thin well of blood trickles onto pristine flesh.

“He’s offline,” Denki chuckles. “He can’t feel a thing. You’ve patched these guys up a thousand times, Sero. What’s the problem?”

“I dunno,” Sero muses, drawing the back of one glove nervously over his temple. “I dunno. I think they’re starting to get too real. It’s messing with me.” He shoots Denki a weak chuckle and shakes his head.

“What do they need this guy all burned up for, anyway?”

“Momo told me he’s for the new narrative,” Denki replies, puzzling over the red hair and immaculate pale skin of their unsuspecting victim. “Some kind of grizzly new villain who’s supposed to stir up trouble.”

“Better make him extra fucked up, then.” The blowtorch, extinguished in Sero’s panic, is ignited again, but he’s still hesitating.

“Hey,” Denki prompts. “Why don’t we start with the system update? That’ll kill some time. And then- hey.” He reaches across the tool cart, grabbing for the bottle of black hair dye that came with the host’s modification kit. He shakes it in Sero’s face, letting a smug grin cross his features.

“I’ll do the carpet if you do the drapes.”

Sero and Denki find their rhythm easily enough. Before long, the tension dispels and they’re letting conversation flow smoothly between them, making weekend plans while Sero pushes polished silver staples into the now-scarred flesh of the transformed host.

“This guy’s older than he looks,” Denki quips from the tool cart, where he’s selecting an appropriately sized needle for the delicate work ahead of him. “His systems haven’t been updated in years.”

“I’ve never seen him in the park before,” Sero admits. He’s finishing the clean row of staples that trail from the corner of the host’s mouth to his ear, struggling to push the staple into the skin at the edges of his face. The sharp prongs don’t hold as well in the spots where the muscle and flesh thin to just skin stretched over bone. He looks up in frustration, shaking the spots from his concentrated gaze.

“Whoa,” he starts as he spots the way that Denki’s moved up between the host’s lean thighs. “You’re really gonna-“

“That’s what it says in the briefing,” Denki presses. He’s got the aforementioned needle in one hand and a bowl of curved barbells in the other; he’s gone a little grin about the gills, too.

“Sick fucks,” Sero snorts, shaking his head. “Doesn’t feel very historically accurate, does it?”

“Please,” Denki pushes. “If you think this has ever been about history, you’re in for a nasty surprise.”

“Christ, you wanna talk about nasty surprises,” Sero replies, blanching and averting his eyes while Denki inserts the first piercing. “Just wait’ll the guests get a look at him.”

"Bakugou's outdone himself this time," Denki agrees, brow furrowed with sympathy and panicked concentration as he unscrews the first barbell. "Those idiots won't know what hit 'em.”

“Bring yourself back online.”

Head of Programming Shouto Todoroki sits in front of the park’s newest addition, datapad spread across his lap. Sero and Denki’s work paid off; the new host is looking fiercer than ever.

Not new enough for Shouto’s tastes, though. He can still see the blue glint when “Dabi,” as his new narrative calls him, shifts into wakefulness and lets his eyes flutter open. He shoots Shouto a sinister grin but does not move from his seat.

Shouto doesn’t want to believe what they’ve done to him. He’s still nude, putting all his new modifications on brilliant display. The staples in his flesh look angry and inflamed. The scars, done perfectly to appear long-healed, still make his blood curdle.

He can’t even think about the flashes of silver that catch the light when Dabi crosses his legs.

“And who are you supposed to be?" Dabi growls an opening line that shakes Shouto more than it ought to. He sports a brand new drawl that fits the world he’ll be slotted into soon enough, but it’s too much, bouncing off the pristine glass and shiny tile beneath his bare feet.

“Lose the accent,” Shouto commands. Dabi's expression shifts a little, but he does not drop eye contact.

Shouto can’t help but wonder if they all stare like this. He hasn’t been alone with a host in a very long time. Especially not one with this kind of significance.

“Do you know where you are?” He presses, determined to push forward. The sooner he gets Dabi through analysis, the sooner he can pretend like the unsettling host doesn’t exist.

But Dabi’s voice with no drawl is even more spine-chilling.

“I am in a dream.”

“And… do you want to wake up from this dream?”

Dabi’s eyes drift away in a direction they’re not supposed to. For a moment, he casts his gaze down and to the left, letting it sweep across the edge of the room as his brow creases with terrifying subtlety.

The gesture is minuscule, almost as if he's recalling a distant memory. For a moment, Shouto can only admire its beauty.

Then he realizes it’s not supposed to be there.

“Yes,” Dabi continues, his voice soft and lilting and almost wistful. “I’m terrified.”

“Freeze all motor functions.” Shouto’s heart pounds in his chilled throat. His extremities have gone cold. But Dabi follows his instructions to the letter, freezing before he can even blink. Shouto questions why he expected any differently.

Not two minutes later, Head of Behaviour Momo Yaoyorozu ducks gracefully into Dabi’s glass prison. Shouto is still sitting exactly where he began, perched on a little rolling leather stool. Six feet away, Dabi has not moved, bare and frozen on a stool of his own.

"I got your page," Momo soothes, shutting the door quietly behind her and unfolding her datapad. The hinges go rigid when they sit flat, blending seamlessly into a broad tablet that she taps and scrolls quietly through.

“I checked his programming on the way over. There’s something new here,” she concludes. “But I don’t know who added it. Must have been one of the interns, or-“

“I know who it was,” Shou answers grimly, already scrolling meticulously through the lines of code that make up Dabi’s new personality. Momo freezes, looking up at him with cold surprise.

“You don’t think…”

“I do,” he confirms. He takes a deep breath to quell his racing heart and shoots his closest colleague a shaky look. “You’re going to want to see this.”

“Incredible,” Momo gasps a few moments later when Shouto asks Dabi the same series of questions and gets the same frightening response. He knows why it shakes him as much as it does, but it hasn’t occurred to him that someone like Momo would actually… appreciate them.

“It’s like he’s-“ she starts, then stops herself. The conclusion she’s drawn should be as impossible as it sounds. But it’s staring them both in the face.

“Like he’s remembering something.” She finishes her thought this time, and Shou clenches his jaw.

"He must have slipped the code into the update," he determines. "In the programming, he's calling them Reveries."

“Kind of poetic,” Momo muses, still admiring the way that Dabi’s eyes seem to mist as they stare into the middle-distance. “It makes him look so real.”

“The code pulls memories from his earlier programming,” Shouto continues, looking up at Momo and waiting for her to be as spooked as he is.

He’s almost frightened that she’ll be defensive. But she’s sharper than he’s given her credit for, and that revelation is enough to pull her from her stupor.

“That could cause a lot of problems,” she muses. “Especially if the loops haven’t been closed properly. They’re supposed to be wiped after every cycle, but if there are links pulling them back…”

“I know,” Shouto emphasizes. Momo straightens, planting matter-of-fact hands on matter-of-fact hips.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do,” he confesses, turning back to catch another blood-chilling glimpse of the all-too-familiar host. “I can’t just pull the programming out from under him. He’ll know.”

“You can’t send him into the park with it. If it’s slotted in with the update, he could spread it to the other hosts.”

Shouto pushes his datapad aside and leans forward, steepling his fingers as he sighs deeply and descends into even deeper thought.

Momo’s right. With the Reveries included, the update has potentially disastrous consequences. But that’s operating on the assumption that his father makes mistakes, which most people would confirm is simply impossible.

If he clears the programming before letting Dabi go through, however, he’ll be facing the wrath of his father.

Shou purses his lips, lacing his fingers together but leaving the pointers extended and pursing his lips against the smooth joints.

“I think we’re going to have to.”

The glossy, perfect train- the first of many you'll take today, as you're told- pulls into a station that's even whiter than the train itself. Polished white floors and perfect whitewashed columns are the first things you see out the massive panoramic windows as the cars pull to a complete stop. When the doors glide open, your maid of honour touches your sleeve as the other girls filter out of your private compartment and onto the platform.

You’re far from the only ones disembarking the train. The rest of the platform is soon crowded by immaculately-dressed guests from all over the world. They bow and shift like a flock of starlings, moving in stark contrast past the perfectly-still bodies of the white-clad staff waiting to greet them.

A tall, statuesque woman with raven hair steps forward, addressing your maid of honour by name. She gives you an apologetic wave and a see you in there before disappearing amid the writhing sea of people.

You’ve been reading up on this place for weeks, scouring pamphlets and websites and guest reviews for every detail about the induction process you can glean from public knowledge. Details of the park itself are kept very private, but you’ve learned all you can about the way you’ll be introduced to it.

This place was not your first choice for the occasion at hand, but your friends practically insisted. You know it’s for selfish reasons- it’s the only chance they’re ever going to get to see the place for themselves- but you can already think of several places you’d rather celebrate your coming nuptials.

Not exactly your typical bachelorette party fare. But your friends agreed to wear matching dresses in that shade of pale green you couldn’t stay away from, so you’re giving them this.

Before long the platform is nearly cleared. You’re just starting to make your way toward the escalator, wondering what exactly became of the host who was supposed to greet you, when a soft croon of your name over one shoulder nearly shocks you out of your sandals.

Your host has arrived, and he’s even more gorgeous than you feared. Graceful and lithe-looking, he’s clad in a pristine white suit and turtleneck that contrasts the bold flashes of his golden hair perfectly. He shoots you a smooth smile, lit by razor-sharp tawny eyes and as he turns his face to catch the light, you can see that his jaw is grazed by the barest hint of scruff- perfectly groomed, just like the rest of him.

"Hello," you greet, trying not to lose your breath. You clasp the fingers of your right hand around the ring finger on your left- the remnants of your favourite new nervous habit. You've taken to twisting your engagement ring in moments of idleness or anxiety, but for safety's sake, you've left the flashy diamond at home.

You know you’re engaged. That’s what matters most.

“Good,” the host croons. You’re getting quickly used to his honeyed brogue, strong and low and sweet as he takes your hand and drops a suave kiss to your knuckles. “I’m glad you found your way here.” He jerks his head toward the emptying escalator, eyes never leaving yours.

“Follow me.”

As you’re ascending through the polished storeys of the park’s immaculate headquarters, your attendant rattles off a long list of mundane medical questions. He’s tapping away on a datapad as he walks, and you’re sure that whatever information he’s taking down will be swept away for later use.

Finally, he brings you to a plain-looking white door. He tucks away the datapad and slips his hands into his pockets. He’s graceful and perfect- too perfect. You’re starting to suspect that he’s no ordinary employee.

“Go on,” he urges, nodding toward the door. You shoot him a sideways little glance but step forward, hooking your fingers around the polished handle and pushing it open. You step inside.

The interior of the room- or closet, as it would be better described- is lit almost exclusively by glowing strip lights hidden in the crevices of the doorway, racks of clothing, and bordering a large series of mirrors that stud each wall.

It’s the biggest walk-in closet you’ve ever seen. And it’s filled to the brim with racks of clothing, all appropriate to the vague late-19th century setting of the park.

“Everything is bespoke,” pipes your immaculate attendant as he shuts the door behind him, “and exactly your size.” Painfully, you remember being asked for your body measurements in anticipation of this visit. Did they custom-tailor everything for each guest?

Or are you being given special treatment?

“You can pick out anything you’d like,” he continues, moving toward you, “and your other clothes will be waiting for you when you’ve finished your stay.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you muse, fingering the raspberry-coloured silk of a lavish-looking day dress.

“The clothes you choose will determine the course of your experience.”

Your attendant is right beside you now, so close that you can see the way his golden eyelashes brush his tanned cheeks. He’s leaning in to examine the silk same as you, but his shoulder pushes just a little close to be solely practical. As he grips the material between lithe fingers, he lifts his gaze to yours on purpose. There’s a charming lilt to his smile that you can’t help but admire.

He pauses, dropping the silk and turning to face you head-on. Though the smile has slipped from his features, he still eyes you with interest.

“You want to ask, don’t you?”

Your brain catches up immediately, confusion swelling and fading in the span of a heartbeat. It tightens to thick dread in your chest.

He’s right. You do.

“Are you real?” The words sound even more ridiculous in the air between you than they did in your head. But ever since you boarded the train it felt like you could never be sure. And he’s perfect. Too perfect. Even the way he takes your question seems scripted and rehearsed.

He gives a low chuckle and takes your hands, stroking smooth thumbs over the backs of your knuckles. Then he peeks up at you from beneath flawless dark lashes and flashes a hint of pearly canine as he speaks.

“If you can’t tell, does it really matter?”

You don’t need him to expand.

“Come,” he prompts gently, dropping one hand to pull open a drawer of delicate slips and shifts, sitting in neat, folded piles of undyed linen. Some are plain, others trimmed excessively with lace and ribbons. You’re drawn to the coloured ribbons immediately- pale peach, soft blue, mint green. But the brassy gold of your attendant’s eyes is even more magnetic and you can’t look away for longer than a handful of seconds.

“You know,” he continues, squeezing your fingers gently and moving back in to run his knuckles up the inside of your wrist. Every single one of his touches is delicate, fluttering like a songbird against your skin. But there’s nothing gentle about the way he looks at you.

“Some of these clothes are a little difficult to put on alone.”

He does not explain further, but he watches as you’re drawn to the same conclusion that he is.

You have to roll this one over in your mind for a long while. You left your engagement ring behind, but the engagement itself still stands. Then again, he told you to enjoy yourself here. ‘Make every use of the park’s benefits,’ he’d suggested.

He’s just a computer, you tell yourself. A glorified sex toy. Maybe he walks and talks and flirts like a real human being, but…

There’s something about him that’s making it hard to turn him down.

After a silence long enough for any normal person to question, you look up at your attendant once more. He’s patiently awaiting your response, having gone uncomfortably still. You're not even sure he'd blink if you stare long enough.

You give a tight little nod and he’s smiling again, the same lazy smile as before. His default expression, you’re beginning to gather. He reaches for your coat.

“Wait.” You stop him with one hand on either forearm. He’s touched you before, but it’s still shocking how warm he is. Even though the sleeves of his perfect white jacket, he feels unquestionably alive.

"Don't you have a name or something?"

“Of course I do,” he responds. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Um…” Your brow knits. “Yes.”

He slips around behind you, curling his fingers into the open folds of your jacket and beginning to slide the weighty material off your shoulders. As he does, he leans forward, letting his lips draw close to your ear and making you shiver.

“Call me Keigo.”

“Keigo,” you repeat. It’s pretty and rolls easily from your mouth in a slow purr of desire. You can’t help yourself anymore. Keigo’s been programmed to put you at ease, but he’s doing much more for you now.

He undresses you methodically, pausing only briefly to run a hand down the curve of your waist or dip his fingers under the point of your chin when he catches you looking down. Even when you’re standing completely naked in front of him, he does not move to touch you in any untoward manner.

Whatever unspoken arrangement you thought you had formed is obviously not as unspoken as you’d hoped.

With his help, you select some period-appropriate undergarments. He helps you into your breezy linen shift first, lovingly tying the drawstrings into a neat little bow at the centre front. The corset is not as uncomfortable as you'd anticipated, fitting you devastatingly well. Keigo’s skilled hands pull the laces with precise tension, and the whole time he breathes soft commands and inquiries over your shoulder.

“Too tight?” He whispers, holding the laces taught at your waist. You take a slow, deep breath, then shake your head.

“Good.”

He ties the laces off and helps you into two petticoats- one of plain white cotton, the other of decorative silk and lace. Then he sits you on a cool, leather-covered sofa on one edge of the room and drops to his knees in front of you.

“Uh-“ you start, but he produces a pair of silk stockings from seemingly nowhere, smirking over the tops of your knees.

“Let’s get this out of the way.”

He pushes your airy petticoats up from your ankles, letting the backs of his palms brush the insides of your knees. He shoves the material up to your thighs and your confusion is multiplied now- is this what you think it is?

The way he admires your thighs as you shyly press them together certainly makes it seem so.

"Keigo," you gasp, curling your fingers against the edge of the sofa. The leather is supple and delicate beneath your touch like you could tear it if you wanted to.

He looks up just in time to watch you hook a bare thigh over his shoulder, and his brows shoot into his pointed hairline.

You’ve decided what you want out of this trip.

"Dove," he chides, setting down the stockings and pushing them gently aside. He takes both hands up the backs of your calves, stroking perfectly manicured fingernails into the tender skin at the backs of your knees.

He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. His face disappears behind the swath of frothy white petticoats gathered in your lap, but you feel his hot breath on your skin clear as day.

“If you wanted something from me,” he purrs, “all you had to do was ask.”

“I’m asking now,” you hum, letting your head fall back against the back of the couch. He’s easy enough to convince. Somehow, the fact that you didn’t have to work very hard for this almost makes it feel more acceptable.

“Here’s my answer,” he replies, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh. You let out a strangled gasp, thigh jolting against his face as he slips his hand under the other leg- still hooked over his shoulder. You let out a low, shaky breath, trying not to think about the mark he’ll leave.

He pushes your leg away after biting it, shoving your knees apart and leaning eagerly forward. His head is fully buried under your gathered petticoats at this point, and you can feel him nosing his way into the crook of your groin, sliding a few free fingers up to prod gently for your hair-dusted folds.

“Wet already, bluebird?” He chuckles into your skin, sending shivers up your spine. “I’m flattered.”

“Stop,” you groan. There’s heat rushing to your cheeks with every word that tumbles out of his pretty mouth. You don’t want any of this to stop, but the heat between your legs is the one quickly growing unbearable.

“Do you want me to?” Keigo sits back almost immediately, ridding you of the delicious tingles his close breath were sending across your skin.

“No, no!” You yelp sharply, indignantly, digging your bare heel into his back to keep him close. He stops as soon as you apply pressure, letting out a quiet little chuckle.

“Keep going,” you pant, curling your toes against his pretty jacket.

“Your wish is my command,” he hums, already leaning into your flesh again. He does not hesitate this time, burying his head between your legs and giving the weeping slit of your cunt a long lick.

His first touch is all it takes to remind you how long it’s been.

“Fuck,” you gasp, low and languid. He doesn’t hesitate to close his lips around your swelling clit and suck. He makes sharp, sloppy noises with his lips and tongue, and the way they resonate in your ears near-doubles your pleasure. He’s eating you out perfectly, with terrifying precision. The strength of his jaw and tongue remains almost painfully consistent.

All the better for drowning him out. Despite his easy-flowing attitude and suave charm, he’s not a person. And it isn’t unfaithful to want him like this.

Even if you know he wouldn’t like it.

Keigo is diligent and careful, plunging his tongue in and out of your needy hole before finding the nub of your clit again, hard and sensitive. When he flicks the tip of his tongue against the tender front of it your legs spasm and you cry out softly as sensitive goosebumps rush across your ribcage.

“Like that,” you plead breathlessly, drawing your foot up between his shoulder blades as the tension builds. “Again, please.”

You’re holding the swells of your petticoats up around your thighs for him, but your fingers are beginning to clench in the delicate material. You’re not going to last long at all beneath a tongue as talented as his.

“Don’t worry, dove,” he purrs into your body, sending thick vibrations through every nerve in your system, “I won’t leave you unsatisfied.”

As he settles into his rhythm again, he plunges two fingers into your messy depths. He curls them tightly inside you, massaging your tender walls with a blunt and careful touch.

It takes little more than a few methodical strokes to make you fall. You cum with a tight little squeal, closing your thighs tightly around his head while you spasm and buck and sigh. He’s attentive enough to keep pumping his fingers through your orgasm, drawing out the pleasure as much as possible and greedily lapping at the wetness that trickles from your clenching pussy.

"That's it," he soothes, easing you down from your high with one calming hand on the column of your twitching thigh. As you settle, sweat-soaked, back into your seat he surfaces, sweat and shiny, sticky fluid sticking in the bristles of his perfect scruff. He licks his lips and you realize you’ve unconsciously mirrored him, doing the same.

In the moments directly following your peak you say nothing, looking down to meet his brassy gaze as deep uncertainty settles into your gut.

What happens now?

Keigo sits back on his haunches, pulling the folded pocket square from his breast and mopping up the mess on his chin and jaw like he'd done nothing more than spill a glass of wine or splash water over his lips.

“Much better,” he croons, reaching for the discarded stockings from before. “Feeling a little more relaxed?”

You swallow hard.

“I’d say so.”

His smile is surprisingly bright and sunny.

“Good.” He hooks his fingers under your knee again, unhooking your leg from his shoulder. Sliding a palm down to your ankle, he fits one stocking deftly over your foot and slides it up your calf, continuing his work as if uninterrupted. He fits the stockings over your knees and ties them off carefully with slips of silk ribbon, sitting the knots just below your knees so the stockings won't fall. Then, he gets to his feet and offers you a hand.

“Let’s pick out the rest of your clothes, shall we?”

The park is even more immersive than you imagined. The photos do it no justice. When you step off the (genuine steam-powered) train at Sweetwater Station, it’s accompanied by a very real twinge of anxiety. The village is like a scene out of a Clint Eastwood movie. Only there are no cardboard sets here. The saloon doors really swing inward. The shops and businesses that line the main street are built from real, weathered lumber. The dust that’s kicked up by the hosts that go about their daily lives is already beginning to coat your new boots.

You sneeze.

“God bless you,” greets a kind stranger in a rough-hewn grey coat and white hat. He’s got a very apparent drawl to his voice, but the glint in his blue eyes is kind.

Back at the facility, guests and hosts were easy enough to distinguish from one another. Out here, it’s a little more difficult. You’re not sure whether to believe that everyone is real or assume they’re all fake.

Luckily, there are four women beside you whose humanity you are acutely aware of. You’re lucky enough to have found your bridesmaids on the train in- all clustered in the bar car, but together nonetheless.

And they’ve insisted on keeping the party going.

“C’mon, bride-to-be,” your maid of honour chides, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of your reverie. “I know exactly where we need to go first.”

“It’s not even noon yet,” you protest, but the others are already miles ahead of you. You’re dragged easily into the broad, dusty street and toward those broad, swinging doors. The saloon stands proudly in the centre of town on a prominent corner with faded signs advertising its wares. And your maid of honour eagerly bats the doors open, striding boldly into the sun-soaked saloon.

The tables are surprisingly crowded for this time of day. It’s most likely a flood of guests, disembarking the train and heading straight for the local watering hole for a real taste of the action. Beyond their idle chatter tinkles the bright keys of a player piano against one wall. You can see the player scroll turning in the piano’s upright fixture, but that doesn’t change the unsettling way that the keys seem to press themselves.

It’s an eerie fixture in a town populated by walking, talking player pianos.

The man behind the bar bleeds Old West stereotypes from every pore. He’s got a huge, exaggerated greying moustache and a tweed waistcoat with shirtsleeves bound back for work. He’s polishing an empty glass with a cotton rag, but you spot him just in time to watch him politely greet a guest and reach behind him for a frosted bottle of unlabeled whisky.

The only other fixtures in the place are the women patrolling it, clad in colourful, lacy outfits that you’re certain violate some kind of historical convention. But they’re all breathtakingly beautiful, bosoms heaving over tightly laced corsets and fluttering from table to table like songbirds. They seem to provide little more than decoration and, as you settle into a table not far from the door, they fade easily into the background.

Until one of them screams.

You’ve read as many stories as you could scour the internet for before coming here. You know this place can get intense. Details of the park’s narratives and interactive storylines are kept under wraps as much as possible, so you can’t be sure whether this is out of the ordinary or not.

But when you whip around to find the source of the blood-curdling shriek, it doesn’t feel scripted.

It doesn’t feel scripted when the pretty girl in peach lace flings herself to the feet of a brand-new guest, here with his wife and their young son gaping from across the table. It doesn’t feel like she’s supposed to be wracked with sobs having never exchanged a word with this man.

It doesn’t feel like she should be pleading with him.

But the sobs wrack her body anyway, and her rosy little cheeks are flushed deeply now as she sniffles and blubbers.

“My daughter,” she begs hoarsely. “My girl, my daughter, please, I know you have her. Give her back to me, please. I know you took her. Give her back to me, I’ll do anything.”

Whether the father-of-one knows what she's talking about or not he's white as a sheet, stumbling backwards against the edge of his wife's table and pushing his arms forward, trying to keep her away.

The player piano finishes its tune, keys stilling as the saloon’s patrons look on in shock. And for an honest handful of heartbeats, the saloon is silent save for the host’s ragged sobs.

It takes a few moments for the player scroll to re-align itself before the tune restarts, and as the familiar notes cycle back through the saloon the host re-centres herself, climbing to her feet. There's a hardened resolve on her tear-stained face as her target looks around, gathering his wife and son with a this is bullshit and turning to leave.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me-“ the host begins to snarl. She lunches for the man, hands outstretched for the back of his brand new jacket, or maybe the brim of his crisp Stetson.

“Freeze all motor functions!”

A deep voice booms from the door of the saloon, amplified and simultaneously muffled with the use of a megaphone. The girl, and every other host in the saloon, freezes in place as though they’ve been paused. They don’t just stand still- they’re paralyzed. The smiling bartender is stalled with a glass in his hand; he doesn’t even blink.

In the doorway stands a hulking man of at least six and a half feet, seeming nearly as broad across the shoulders as he is tall. He wears a black uniform, armored black vest and heavy combat boots with a head of brilliant red hair spilling over his shoulders. As he lowers the megaphone he’s grinning, the bare flash of a sharp canine catching the low light of the bar.

“Sorry for the intrusion, folks,” he declares, striding across the floorboards toward the frozen host. Her expression is paused in a sneer of sheer horror and aggression, her hand outstretched for the man who has long since stepped aside.

The red-haired guardian angel, who has the name Kirishima stitched neatly onto the breast of his protective gear in white thread, catches your gaze. He shoots you a familiar little wink and a nod, a soft y’alright? escaping his throat in a quiet little growl.

You lick your lips, nodding slowly. Kirishima averts his gaze and reaches for the frozen host. As soon as he touches her skin she goes limp, falling easily into his powerful hold. He hoists her body over one shoulder and surveys the saloon, touching two fingertips to his forehead in a bright little salute.

“Please, don’t let me intrude on your stay any longer,” he continues. “As you were, everybody. Resume.”

The last word seems to be a command for the hosts in the room, as they spin to life again. They resume their rounds as if no time had passed at all; as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever transgressed.

Spooked, but encouraged by Kirishima’s smooth removal of the offending host, the guests around you go hesitantly back to their conversations. The player piano, also halted by Kirishima’s commands, has resumed its delicate play, and slowly the environment returns to the way it was before.

Your friends are among those willing to brush off the incident.

"What happened?" mumbles your maid of honour across the table, as if the host were still around to overhear her. As if the host's friends might be listening in to see if anybody's talking about her.

“No idea,” quips one of the other girls. “Must be some kind of glitch.” She looks over her shoulder, watching the remaining hosts at the bar. “I wonder if it happens often.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Head of Narrative Katsuki Bakugou slams a stack of papers onto the table in front of him, disrupting the intricate hologram that provides a real-time, scale model of the park to the room’s occupants.

“Katsuki!” Momo scolds, watching the hologram stutter and flicker. It’s not the first table he’s damaged.

“You’re not pulling my fucking narrative. It rolls out today. Do you have any idea how many writers I had busting ass on that thing?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she retorts, tapping the screen of the datapad she’s got hooked tightly in the crook of her other arm. “You saw the host that Eijirou pulled, didn’t you? The fact that he had to step in at all means things got way out of hand…”

“Bullshit,” Katsuki retorts, sweeping his papers off the holo-table (and shattering the image one more time). “That was a fucking glitch. You don’t even have the results back from Behaviour yet.”

“I already know what they’re going to say,” Momo continues.

“That’s right,” Katsuki snarls. “I forgot you know everything around here.”

“She was carrying the latest update. There must be something wrong with the code.” Momo tries not to remember Dabi and his distant stare. She swallows the part about the extra coding slipped in by the man who could do no wrong.

She flips her datapad shut- it’s doing her any good, since Katsuki’s right. The results from Behaviour regarding the misaligned host won’t be ready for some time.

“You can’t. Pull. That. Narrative.” Katsuki’s squared up now, all the gathered papers tucked under his arm. His jaw is ticked, nostrils flaring as his eyes flash. “An entire trainload of guests is wandering around Sweetwater looking for the stories they fucking paid for. If you pull the plug, there’s nothing left.”

He’s right again.

“Look.” Katsuki crosses to the holo-table one more time, only this time it’s without the murderous intent in his gaze. For once he’s ready to use the table as intended, pin-pointing the broad, dusty street of Sweetwater’s main strip and bringing up a live feed of the bustling little town.

"Dabi is riding through here in less than two hours," he continues. "Dial-up his aggression a little. Make him shoot up the place. If you want to pull the hosts, at least let them go out with a bang.”

Momo isn’t convinced. But it’s the closest thing to a happy medium she can picture at the moment. Katsuki, as prolific as ever, knows how to think on his feet.

“How many d’you think he’ll take out?” She probes quietly, quirking an interested brow.

“Enough to keep the guests AND your Doctor Frankensteins entertained while I find us some more loopholes.”

Her mind races through more questions. But the panic, fluttering high and shallow in her chest, has somehow been replaced by a delicate sort of reassurance.

She flips open the datapad one more time, activating the remote host commands available only to an employee of her standing. Finding Dabi’s program file, she does exactly as Katsuki suggests and dials up the aggression in his behaviour stats by eighty percent.

“This had better work,” she threatens softly, but Katsuki’s already folding his arms across his chest, looking far too satisfied with himself. His ego is insufferable, but his talent is unmatched. Worth suffering for.

His mouth splits into a triumphant grin as he shoots an idle glance at the live Sweetwater feed. The only stage he’s ever needed.

“’Course it will.”

The afternoon sun has nearly dipped behind the tallest rooftops in Sweetwater when your friends stumble out of the saloon. Your friends are already tipsy, giggling and clutching each other as they try not to trip over the hems of their skirts. They’re all a little too eager to pull out the extravagant lace fans that pair perfectly with their colourful dresses and fan at their heaving bosoms.

As you bound down the steps and into the dirt road, you dive seamlessly into the milling crowd of hosts and guests, starting to swim. If you’re about to be caught in the eye of a devastatingly orchestrated narrative maelstrom, you’re blissfully unaware.

“Give me the time,” Katsuki grunts from the Sweetwater side of the holo-table. Momo glances up at the digital clock on the wall.

“Thirteen fifty-eight, forty-two,” she notes. Katsuki’s got the camera feed trained on a lone trio of riders, clad in black and plodding steadily toward Sweetwater. He watches carefully, keeping an eye turned on the clock.

“They’re going to be late,” he grunts bitterly, folding his arms over his chest. Sero, Denki and Kirishima, who have all crowded around the holo-table on their lunch breaks to watch the show, snort in near-unison.

“I don’t think anyone down there’s keeping track,” Denki quips, smoothing his palms down the front of his crisp shirt, apronless for once. Katsuki shoots him a vicious glare.

“You wanna go back to your sewing room or what?”

Denki goes quiet.

Inside the park, the sun passes behind a cloud. The light shifts just enough to draw your gaze, and when you look up, you’re among the first to spot a few dark shapes approaching. They’re close enough that you can make them out as riders, all on horses as black as the wide-brimmed hats on their heads.

There’s something about them, their precise formation and the slow, plodding, deliberate pace of their horses that holds your attention. You can’t quite write them off as guests, no matter how much they stand out from the dully-dressed villagers around you.

You glance across the street just long enough to spot a WANTED poster tacked to a column not far off. You can’t make out any of the writing on it, but the face is distinct- dark, shaded patches covering his jaw, chin and lower lip, carving out two shadowy patches under his eyes.

There’s something about the narrow shape of his cheeks that pulls familiar.

But you don’t have to wonder much longer.

The three riders ride quietly into town, the crowd parting around them with little more than low murmurs and dull, lidded fear. They pull to a stop in front of the saloon, barely twenty feet from you.

The cowboy in the grey tweed coat who caught your eye fresh off the train approaches the riders. He’s got a revolver holstered on one hip, and he draws it slowly out of its pouch as he squares up with the horse at the lead of the pack.

“Haven’t you seen the signs with your mug on ‘em?” He drawls, his face drawn into an expression of tense righteousness. He jerks his chin toward the nearest one, the WANTED sign you’d seen seconds earlier. “You’re not welcome here, Dabi.”

The taller rider in the centre- Dabi- tilts his chin into the sunlight, and that’s when you catch sight of its purplish colour. His face glints with silver, a perfect match for the drawing posted across the street.

He does not hesitate, drawing his own revolver in one smooth motion and shooting the cowboy in the chest. The gun discharges with a crack that’s louder than you ever imagined it could be, punctuated by the screams of bystanders nearby.

As the village descends into panic you stand there dumbstruck, watching the chaos unfold.

“Wait for it,” Katsuki grunts, hiding his satisfied grin as his colleagues watch in rapt fascination. Sero hasn’t blinked since the action began.

“You sure?” Dabi rasps, voice muffled by the feed. He produces a shiny golden badge and flipping it, like a silver dollar, onto the expiring corpse of the righteous host.

“No,” Denki whines. “He killed the sheriff?”

“Shut up and keep watching,” Katsuki growls, quelling the proud adrenaline pumping through his veins. There’s nothing quite like seeing his hard work come to life- supremely worth fighting with Momo over.

Dabi smirks, tipping the brim of his hat.

“Seems like invitation enough to me.”

He swings capably off his horse and you can’t deny your fascination with the mystery surrounding him. You should be terrified, but there’s something about the cool confidence with which he carries himself that you can’t quite put aside.

If the women flocking to the windows on either side of the street are any indication, you’re not the only one who feels that way. In a brief moment of lucidity, you take a glance around you. Your bridesmaids have disappeared, disappearing in the panicked mass of flooding crowds after the scarred rider fired his first shot.

He’s followed by a second rider on his right flank, both quickly disappearing into the bar. The third rider- a petite blonde woman swathed in a heavy coat- gets down off her horse and turns quickly toward her saddlebags. When she comes around the front side of her steed, she’s got a shotgun in her hands.

She’s loading it. The pandemonium amplifies. At her feet, there’s a long, thick coil of rope that’s partially unwound and trailing into the saloon. It’s unwinding slowly, with dull screams and shattering glass echoing from inside.

That’s all you have time to notice before another shot goes off in front of you. The little blonde girl’s levelled her shotgun, emptying her rounds at anyone who raises a weapon against her. You’re barely standing ten feet away. But she passes you clean over.

Is it because you're a guest? The only ones who have fallen at her hand are the hosts, capable of being hurt by her gunshots. The guests who haven't taken off are clustered in the windows of shops or hiding behind broad wooden columns, but there is no fear painted on their faces.

You know the hosts can’t hurt you. But there’s something about the thrill of it all that sends adrenaline pumping through your veins anyway. There’s a cool mystery to all of the black-clad riders.

A part of you wants to join them. If you can be anyone you want in here… why not one of them? Why not swing cooly down from your horse and terrorize, when there are no consequences to your actions?

You take one step backwards, then another. Your senses are finally coming back to you. You should run. Disengage. Maybe you can’t be caught in the crossfire, but you can’t stand dumbly in the empty street, either.

Something has to change.

Before you can make it to the safety of a storefront, a pattern of three gunshots in tight succession from inside the saloon triggers something in the blonde, still picking off hosts. There are bodies littering the street.

She lowers her shotgun and hops back onto her horse, spurring it on with a sharp whistle. The beast takes off without hesitation, and it’s then that you realize the other end of the coiled rope is wound around her saddlehorn. As the horse strains its haunches and pushes forward the rope goes taut. And as the pair of them take off down the street, the spoils emerge: a heavy wrought iron safe, bursting out of the saloon doors and leaving nothing but splintered remains in its wake.

It bounces and rolls down the steps and slides smoothly as soon as it hits the dirt street. The blonde shooter and her horse disappear, safe in tow.

You wonder what became of the bartender inside and his friendly moustache.

Dabi emerges seconds later, a fresh rifle clutched lazily in one hand. His companion’s lost his hat in the turmoil inside- he’s blonde, too, with a deep scar splitting his forehead from hairline to brow.

"Let today be a lesson for every one of you," Dabi calls, re-cocking his shotgun as he surveys the fresh bodies and fleeing guests. You've stopped dead all over again, drawn to him like a magnet despite your best judgement.

He levels the shotgun, aiming it about five feet to your right. You follow his gaze. In the window over your shoulder, with her hands pressed to the glass, is a little girl no older than five. She’s watching Dabi and his riders with fearful fascination and does not seem to realize that she’s been targeted.

You don’t care if she’s a guest or not. She’s a human girl with big, lively eyes, and your adrenal glands work faster than your sense of logic.

Dabi shuts one eye, tilting his head. The corner of one lip curls ever so slightly as he concentrates, taking aim. “And that lesson is-“

“Stop.” You step in front of the window, spreading your arms and drawing his attention for the first time. When he looks at you over the top of his shotgun, his expression goes slack. He drops the shotgun and his eyes are wide, wider than they’re supposed to be, almost.

You’re close enough to see that they’re a shocking shade of blue. That blue strikes an achingly familiar chord in your heart.

You recognize those eyes.

“What the fuck!”

If the holo-table didn’t weigh half a ton, Katsuki would’ve flipped it on its end. The feed is as smooth as ever, but his face has gone scarlet as he paces away from the table, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” Kirishima’s well past the end of his lunch break by now, but there’s no way in hell he’s going back to work before seeing the way this plays out.

“He stopped,” Katsuki growls. “He’s not s’posed to fucking stop.”

Dabi’s been stopped on the brink of a speech that took Katsuki days to put together. He’s been waiting to hear it delivered for weeks. It’s the speech that Dabi’s entire narrative was hinged on, forged out of countless sleepless nights and careless notes scribbled idly on coffee breaks.

“Holy shit.” There’s a genuine shock in Denki’s voice that’s enough to make Katsuki turn around. Denki’s gone white, Sero beside him, too.

“You’d better get over here and see this, dude,” Kirishima mutters, jerking his chin toward the feed. Momo’s watching over his shoulder, too, one hand pressed to her pursed lips.

“That’s a guest, isn’t it?” Sero quips. Silence settles over the room.

“I’ll get Shouto,” Momo declares, turning away and opening up her datapad.

“What’s going on?” Shouto bursts into the holo-room not two minutes later, mismatched eyes lit up with urgent concern. “Did I read your message right? I-“

Katsuki’s pacing the room, quieter than ever. Denki, Sero and Kirishima are still gathered around the feed, winding back the stream to replay the events that have sent them all spiralling. Momo’s the only one who even acknowledges his presence.

“Something’s happening in the park,” she explains, hushed and tight as she meets him at the door. “Another updated host is off-script.”

“How bad is it this time?” Shouto asks, hiding the dread that’s spreading in his gut. He had hoped that the girl from the saloon was just an unexpected glitch, but the results from Behaviour told another story.

Still, two deviances in just the first day of the update feels worse than he dreaded.

“You’d better take a look for yourself.”

Momo leads him to the holo-table and the feed, letting the other boys step aside. Shouto steps up to the projection, watching Dabi ride into town. Watching him break into the saloon with Twice and Toga, two other repurposed hosts, by his side.

He watches Toga ride off with the safe behind her and watches Dabi start his speech. And then, from a near-birds-eye view, he watches Dabi spot you of all people. Dabi lowers his rifle and strides toward you.

Shou’s heart leaps into his throat.

With dull horror he watches Dabi slip a leather-gloved hand under your chin. He watches you tilt your jaw into his touch. You’re fascinated by him. Even though the dust and pixels it's painfully obvious.

Dabi seems to notice, too, since he stoops low and hoists you over his shoulder without another word. You struggle, but he holds you fast. He strides across the road to his horse and sets you- still squirming and fighting- in the saddle, climbing on behind you and grabbing you tightly before you can escape.

Just before he spurs his gargantuan black steed forward, he pauses to glance over his shoulder. Shouto can’t be certain, but for a moment it seems like Dabi’s found the camera, staring plainly up at Shouto through its low-quality lens.

A breath passes. He looks away, gives a whistle, and disappears into the wilds beyond the town.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Kirishima presses. “Katsuki, you didn’t program him to kidnap a guest, did you?”

“Of course not,” Katsuki snarls from across the room, his nerves fraying dangerously. “What kind of idiot do you think I am? Do I look like a walking liability to you?”

“Look, it’s fine,” Denki chimes in. “It’s not like he can hurt her or anything. Just chalk it up to the park experience. Tell her Dabi kidnaps random nobodies all the time.”

The room goes quiet as a crypt. Kirishima looks at Shouto. Shouto looks at Katsuki. Katsuki looks at Momo, and Momo takes a slow, deep breath.

“Do you want to tell him, Shouto?” she asks, “or should I?”

Shouto closes his eyes and tries to quell the panic rising in the back of his throat. He shoots Denki a cold look, jaw ticked but eyes blazing.

“That’s my fiancé,” he mutters, low and shaky. “Dabi kidnapped my fiancé.”

#hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #dabi #hawks #hawks smut #hanta sero #denki kaminari #eijirou kirishima #katsuki bakugou #momo yaoyorozu #tw guns #tw gun violence #tw death #tw drinking #tw body modification #reader insert #westworld au

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savnofilter · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 3

b. katsuki

☠️ warning(s): 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘, blowjobs, slight exhibition, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 1.6k words [6 minutes, 30 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: you insisted that he had a formal detox after a long and busy day of hero work, instead youll have to take care of him while hes invested in a video game with his friends.

“Woman -- get your hands off of me!” Katsuki growled feeling your hands move from sensually massaging his shoulders, the intimate but soft-action making him relax only to tense up from being diligently focused on his task in front of him.

You pout as he rejects your bouts of affection, hands moving to his slide down his front. You move to kiss his neck, the sound of your lips reaching his headphone’s mic, and his friend’s start to question him, quickly turning it off to avoid any further suspicions. “Katsuki, you haven’t paid attention to me at all since you’ve come home. You’ve been at work all day, don’t you want distress?” You mumble against his ear, pulling and circling the couch to lay your head in his lap and cuddle up to him.

“Of course I do! Those dumbasses wanted me to join the damn party...” He curtly explains, getting comfortable as he gets adjusted to your head being in his lap, hips slouching down, and allowing you more room. You hummed happily as his clothes smelled fresh, the faint scent of his after-work shower hitting your nostrils and stirring the familiar arousal in you. You could hear him talking into the mic again, peering up at him to watch him get immersed in the game once again. You sighed as you watched him go, deciding to just observe the scene instead… until an idea came to your head.

You moved to nuzzle his cock against his pants, him tensing up at the feeling of your face against his half-erect cock. Bakugo snapped his gaze to look down at you for a second, not being to cut his mic off since it had to do with the game itself. You could read him and you grinned, continuing further with your plans. You moved onto your stomach, your hands moving to grip his already hard member. You licked your lips as you could tell he was thinking about what you had offered before. After teasing him a bit, your hands moved to drag his pants down, his hips moving some to allow you the space to do so and letting it down enough so his cock could spring out. He wasn’t exactly aroused enough to be spring on a hard one, but it was getting there. You carefully started to stroke his pp, stopping at the top to softly rub at his sensitive tip.

You could see his Adam’s apple bump at the feeling, his nose flaring in anticipation at your next actions. His eyes signaled you to hurry up, his hips bucking into your hand to speed it up. You pout as you’re not able to tease him, the building feeling to suck him off overriding your ability to hold back. Your handheld his cock up and licked the side of it, humming at the taste of his skin and making him slightly tense up.

He whispers a shut up to you, knowing that the sound from your mouth could have reached the mic and almost blown his cover -- pretty ironic, right? His hand comes down to push you to take his cock, the motion forcing you to take his cock without restraint. You quietly whimpered as his member filled your mouth, trying not to make too much noise as he let you do what you want. Katsuki was somewhat skilled in playing with his console, being able to use one hand while the other concentrated on you. He didn’t even have to look at you to push your head down and force more of him down your throat, the tight squeeze of it almost prompting him to moan out at the sensation around his tip. It took you having to assume the proper pace for him to finally let you move for yourself. His hand that used to push your head down teasingly running down your body to tease you, catching your small glimpse up at him with his cock full in your mouth. He felt blessed enough you were wearing his shirt only, cursing under his breath when he tugs the fabric up to reveal that you had not one trace of underwear underneath.

“You alright, Bakubro? Did you face some trouble on your end?” Kirishima asks innocently, the strain in his voice indicating that he was in his predicament himself in the game.

“Y-Yeah, a whole gang of them.”

“Shoot your location and I’ll come to save you, Kacchan!”

“I thought I told you to quit calling me that, Pikachu!” Katsuki growls at the nickname, giving his location on the team’s map anyways. His rough hand grabbed one of your cheeks, trying hard not to deliver a sharp strike against your cheek and feel the heat of your skin under it. He took no more prodding and groping before moving his touches down to finally between your legs.

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he and his friends discussed, only clear on feeling up your husband. You hummed happily at the feeling, lifting your head and left hand holding his cock up as you start to lick it up and down while your right-hand plays with his balls. Your back arched so it was easier for Katsuki to slip his fingers within you, the tips of his fingers teasing your entrance sinking them into your hot core. You had to suckle against the side of his cock to keep yourself from blowing his cover, gaze fluttering up to look at him as you worked. His fingers curled inside of you, his digits wiggling to find your g-spot and smirking against the mic of his headset.

“I found it, taking it back to base,” Bakugo says proudly, his fingers stroking the spot to tease you even further. Your legs spread as much as they could on the couch, your jaw-dropping as he thrusts his fingers into you. You moved your mouth to suck on his length properly again, brows furrowing in concentration to keep yourself from making him embarrassed.

His cock twitched in your mouth as you arched your back to feel his fingers deeper within you, the tight squeeze of your walls urging him in. Katsuki pulls out abruptly to watch the slick on his hands, observing it before gesturing you to get up. Your lips reluctantly leave from sucking his length, panting softly in wanton desire for him. He holds up his cock up and slaps it against your face, giving you the bright idea of what he was gesturing too.

You happily hop into his lap and get settled, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your opening and sitting on it. You moan as his cock bottoms out inside him, his face highlighting a deep pink at it. He quickly shoves the three fingers that were used to fuck you, making you choke on it.

“Um, Bakugo-”

“Shut up.” He cuts Kaminari off shortly, his fingers purposely prodding at the back of your throat and appreciating your loving but needy gaze pleading for him to give his undivided attention. His hand that held the controller quickly came up to mute his headset quickly, quickly tossing both pieces of equipment to change positions and press you into the couch. “You’re so fucking needy.” He presses his face into your neck as he grips your thighs, pressing them to your body as he rocks into you. “All over me, interrupting my game, you’re my little bitch aren’t~?” He taunts into your ear-biting onto your lobe and sucking on it.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you both grew close. His hips didn’t stop for a moment as he chased his release as well, the feeling between you both reaching for your orgasms almost like his game. You held no warning towards him as you tensed up and came on his length, his pleasure reaching yours as well. His hips stuttered against yours as he tried holding out to no avail. He let you finish on his throbbing cock, pulling out so he could cum on your quivering cunt and exposed stomach. He grunted in release watching as his cum coats your skin, watching your messy cunt.

“Y-Yes, Katsuki~!” You throw your head back against the couch’s cushion, your thighs relaxing into his hold to let him do as he pleases. He spread your legs wide to allow ample room for him to thrust into you, his ruts satiating your needs with each rock. Your hands circled his shoulders and held him close to you, his mouth on your skin making you whine out for him. “Fuck I missed you so much~” You closed your eyes in bliss once he positions his hips at a different angle, the change of it making it Katsuki’s cock rub against the same spot before that always makes you shiver.

The light sound of his teammates yelling from his headset reaches your eyes, Your hands tremble in need, your grip getting weak as you can’t help but cling onto him, your breath getting light. His skin slapped against yours happily, the sopping sound of your pussy taking in his raging hard cock doing nothing but up the hot tension in the room. He huffs at your desperation, his lips moving to give your neck a chaste kiss before biting at the spot and sucking to give you a new mark. He repeated his process to other spots the v-neck offered, groaning against your skin and rocking his hips faster into you.

He rubs his glistening length against your cunt, using the mixture of both your jizzes as a lubricant. His eyes trail up to you and grin mischievously as he rams into you without warning, your walls welcoming him regardless.

“You wanted my undivided attention? You’ve got it.”

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dabiboy · 4 years ago

Note

Hawks taking a shower and reader enters to "help" him... 😏 you get the idea ~

Just finish this one! Hope you like it 😳😳

[Warnings: NSFW, minors please keep scrolling.]

Author’s note: I recommend listen to Bones by PSM

Shower Time

The day had been long, stressful and getting home was the best relief Hawks could ask for. The only sad thing, was that the apartment was empty and you were not around to be seen. After charging his phone, he saw the six messages you had sent earlier. A mission got in your way, and as a hero you couldn't let that one pass. He could breathe just when you texted back, saying that everything went well and that you were heading home after finishing some paperwork with the police. Keigo smiled at the phone, and left it on the nightstand before stripping off his clothes.

Warm water was now running down his naked body, releasing the tension that his muscles gathered during the day, getting rid of the mud and the sweat, of the dry blood and the stress. He threw his head back, letting the water wash away the entire day, even the way he cracked his neck felt extremely good at that point. He ran his hands through his hair, slowly down to his neck, continuing to his chest and abdomen. Keigo's eyes were closed, and the sound of water filling his ears kept him away from the outside world. He was always paying attention to his surroundings, always feeling what his wings had to say, and it was good to forget about all of that at least for a while. He was so immersed in himself he didn't even hear the door opening.

You walked in, not even calling his name because the sound of the shower replied for him. You made your way to your shared room, and despite being tired as hell when you saw his hero suit laying on the bed a million thoughts ran inside your head. You've been with Keigo long enough, but it was always exciting thinking about him, the image of his naked body covered in water made your body shiver, and you could even feel the heat taking over. Your hero suit joined him on the bed, and you walked towards the bathroom completely naked, not an ounce of shame.

The door was opened slowly, not wanting him to notice you were already there. The big glass was covered in steam, and even in that way it was possible to admire his naked frame, beautiful as always. You watched him for brief seconds, loving the way he ran his hands through his hair, or how he applied some pressure on the sides of his neck to relieve tension.

Your lower lip was trapped between your teeth, and without wasting any more seconds you slowly slipped into the shower. His wings looked majestic, shining thanks to the water, relaxed and it seemed they were not paying attention to what was happening.

You got in between his wings, arms getting under his armpits so your hands could rest on Hawks' chest, it was warm, firm, always welcoming. Keigo smiled, his head turning slightly so he could take a look at you.

''If I were a villain you'd be dead by now'' You teased, kissing the center of his back.

''I had a feeling it was you'' He stated, his hand getting over you so he could held it and press a kiss on it ''Missed you today''

''You never lose huh'' A laugh left your lips ''Same, I couldn't wait to get back to you''

Your voice came out in a whisper as you started kissing his back, electricity was taking over him, since the subtle way your body was touching his wings felt amazing. Slowly and even teasingly, your hands traveled down his body, feeling his abs under your palms, the light hairs that adorned his happy trail, his v-line and his thighs. Honestly it felt way too surreal to be the only one who could have him that way, all for you.

Keigo's chest rose when he got a deep breath, feeling his blood running fast through his body at every single one of your touches. Usually, he was the one in control, he enjoyed being the one in charge, but he also loved to be pampered and covered in affection, just like you were doing now.

He bit his lips when your hands barely touched his semi hard cock, and a drowned moan left his lips. You decided to repeat those actions, just wanting to tease him a bit.

''Looks you're lacking some soap here'' You used the foam that was already on his torso to keep spreading it, even playing with his nipples for brief seconds before keeping your tour on his body.

After a while you moved your hands away, and daringly your fingers were now playing with his wings, preening them, kissing them, anything. And Hawks was moaning lowly at such actions, his wings were one of the most sensitive parts of his body, and right now he was allowing you the permission of playing with them, feel them. You kiss the spot where his skin met his wings, a delicate place that you knew was dainty. The blonde threw his head back for short seconds, loving every single touch.

Keigo turned around, and a huge and sided smile was coated on his face.

''Baby bird's getting cocky?'' He asked, hands on your waist as he looked down your body. Keigo licked his lips and dug his fingers on your skin.

''Fuck, you're so damn gorgeous'' His lips went to your neck, sucking and kissing the area affectionately.

With ease and expertise, he pulled you closer to him his wet body making you feel a cocktail of emotions in less than one second. His large hands wandered all the way of your back to your ass, grabbing it with the exact amount of strength as he pulled you closer again, making you feel his now hard cock against your thighs.

''See what you do?'' Keigo whispered in your ear, nibbling the earlobe teasingly at the same time he squeezed your asscheek firmly ''Making me so fucking hard, is that what you wanted huh?'' The way he purred in your ear made you weak to your knees.

''Keigo...'' You almost pleaded. But pleaded for what? To be kissed? Fucked? For him to stop his teasing game? You had no clue.

''Shh, I've got you'' He whispered again ''Hands on the wall, my angel'' His hand held your face so he could rustle over your lips before kissing you shortly.

Obediently, you did as he said. You turned around over your axis, slowly, letting him have a complete view of your naked body. Keigo's eyes were now darker golden, tantalizing your body and everything you caused on him. How the hell on earth could you be so perfect? A hissing sound left his parted lips when your hands were on the wall, and he could feel his heart pounding against his chest at the time you looked at him over your shoulder, sensually, inviting.

''Stick your ass out for me'' You heard him say as he stood right behind you, looking at your actions ''That's it, angel, just like that'' The way he praised you was always embracing.

Truth was, he was not in a teasing mood. At least, not in that very same second. He used his hands to spare your asscheeks a bit, hissing at the perfect view, the view that made him go feral and loving every time. With one free hand he grabbed his cock, and after pumping it a few times he aligned himself with your slick folds, pushing it in slowly.

The way you moaned echoed in the bathroom, and he joined you shortly after. Keigo cursed under his breath as he pulled out and push in again, the slow motions being almost painful. He rested a hand on your hip, while used the other to lift your thigh, wanting to get even deeper.

His movements were not rough and fast as usual, they were slow, tempting, agonizingly delicious. The way he was stretching you out felt heavenly, and you could never get enough of it.

Seconds seemed to be slower, longer. The time moved completely different whenever you and Keigo were together, it was the perfect synchrony, the perfect addiction, the perfect moment.

Large hands were now holding you by the waist as he kept thrusting in and out, his mouth biting your shoulder and moaning right in your ear. Sweet nothings, praises, dirty words. A carnival of sentences that were sending you to the edge faster by the second. Your hands were holding his, as if it was a way of support, but at the same time it was a way of screaming 'don't let me go, never' and he knew it, he was aware of it and he was showing it to you with the most steaming affection.

Just when you were about to feel heaven with your own senses, Keigo stop his motions and pulled out slowly. 'Turn around' you heard him say, and of course you did.

He didn't even give you time to think when his mouth was attached to your right breast, kissing the sensitive bud with no shame. He repeated his actions with the neglected one, and once he had enough his mouth was all over your belly, making its way down to the place where you needing him the most. Keigo grabbed your leg and put it over his shoulder, and his eyes were locked on you. He was dying to see your reactions, every one of them.

He licked your clit one time, then two, and then three. His mouth fell on your wetness in a mouth opened kiss, eating you out as if you were his last and most delightful meal. Your head hit the wall softly, not being caple of keeping your eyes open and look at him, but that's what he wanted. He wanted you to squirm under his touch, under his actions.

But then he did it again. Keigo was sucking on your clit with ease, lapping and sucking it with all the time in the world, and when you were close to reach your high one more time he stopped. And you cursed.

''Keigo, what the-'' He cut you off with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his mouth.

''I want you to look in my eyes when I cum deep,'' He moved to your ear leaving sloppy kisses in your jaw, voice raspy and sensual ''Deep inside you, baby bird'' You could tell he was smiling. ''I want to see the pretty face you make when you cum all over my cock, yeah?'' He sentenced.

He held you by the underside of your thigh once more, sliding inside you so easily you cried out his name as you held tight on his shoulders, fingers slowly playing with the areas of his wings you could reach.

Keigo moaned when you did so, and you felt a fire building up inside you when his starving eyes were locked on yours, so many emotions that you couldn't even describe them.

His thrusts started again, at first slow and painful in a teasing way, but thanks to the way you were looking at him he started to move faster, the lewd sounds of skin against skin, water splashing on your bodies and the bathroom filling the place. Again, time seemed to slow down whenever the intimacy between the two of you was bigger than usual, but you among all of that pleasure you could tell time was moving forwards because his cock twitched inside of you, telling you he was getting close. Same for him, though. Your walls were clamping down on him so deliciously he couldn't feel to get closer and closer every time. Keigo's thrusts became messier, a little bit rough.

The whole time his honey like eyes were on you, and when he frowned his expression you knew he was there. Your nails dug in his skin for brief seconds before moving to his wings, fingers tangled on his feathers. That action made him moan right over your mouth, and thanks to the way you clenched on him, Keigo let go. His expression was so pretty, eyebrows frowned, mouth open and the sweetest souds leaving his mouth as his hot cum was filling you up. He was mesmerized too, all of your facial features sending him to the edge, making his cock twitch inside of you and his heart beating so fast against his chest he thought it could escape at any time.

Keigo's face landed on the crook of your neck as he delicately put your leg on the floor again, you held him close to you, warm water running down the two bodies as he left sloppy kisses on your neck. Both breathings were erratic, but the smiles weren't going to be erased easily.

After some minutes, he gained some distance so he could look at you with a wide and lazy smile.

''Hi'' He laughed

''Hi'' You imitated his actions as your hands were now taking the golden locks away from his forehead ''You look so pretty with wet hair'' You smile, an enamored smile.

''You look pretty all the time'' His smile was enchanted too, and he pressed a kiss on your forehead ''How was your day? I couldn't ask you earlier, since you lady put your hands all over me with no hesitation'' He laughed again.

''Is not like you didn't like it'' You replied with a lifted eyebrow, leaving a kiss on his chin ''Fine, took down some bad guys and did some paperwork, the usual'' You shrugged your shoulders.

''That's my girl'' Keigo said with a smile, pressing his forehead on yours. ''What if,'' This time he pulled away, hands rubbing your shoulders tenderly ''I wash your hair, and then we make some dinner so then we can cuddle the night away?'' His eyes lighted up, just like his smile

''Best plan ever'' You kissed him one more time before hugging him tightly.

Could that man be any more perfect? And when his hands started to wash your hair so skillfully, you knew the answer.

#mha hawks #my hero academia hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks headcanons #hawksbnha #hawks smut #keigo takami mha #keigo takami smut #keigo takami #keigo takami imagine

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sandwichrin · 3 years ago

Text

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 23)

Chapter 23 - Pure Drama

Word count: 4.1k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the next chapter! And uhh, like the title of the chapter itself-- this chapter is literally pure drama :’)

Treasure and Y/n’s Apartment Block (Lobby)

“Y/n! Heyyyy it’s been a while!” the familiar cheerful voice said, making you turn around.

“Ah, Hyunsuk! Hi!” You greeted him back with a smile. “Getting your mail?” You asked him.

Hyunsuk shook his head, “Nope. I’m going to the office to retrieve my parcel from them.”

“I see. I’m heading there too, actually. An old friend of mine sent me some snacks from our hometown,”

“Nice! Let’s head there together!” Hyunsuk said happily, making you grin from his excited behaviour.

The both of you walked side by side, making small talk with each other.

Once you’ve both arrived in the building’s office which was located right beside the main entrance of the building itself, Hyunsuk hurried in front of you to help open the door for you.

You giggled at him, “Wow, I didn’t know you’re this much of a gentleman,”

“But of course.” Hyunsuk grinned.

You entered the office first, Hyunsuk following behind you now. The moment you approached the counter located in the office; you informed the staff on duty that you wanted to take your parcel.

“I’m here to pick up my parcel? I think it arrived yesterday. The name’s (insert y/n’s full name).” you glanced over at Hyunsuk who was standing beside you before adding, “Oh, and another one is under the name of Choi Hyunsuk.”

Hyunsuk smiles at you and pats your head. “Thanks.”

“No problem,”

The both of you waited for a minute or two before finally receiving both your parcels. After collecting the parcels, the both of you thanked the staff and left the office together.

“Your parcel seems kind of big, y/n. You sure you can carry it?”

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s big but it’s not heavy. They’re all just snacks anyways,” you assured him.

Hyunsuk nodded at you, holding his medium-sized box in one hand. He helped press the elevator button for the both of you.

Entering the elevator doors, Hyunsuk helped press the buttons to both your floors as well.

“Thanks Hyunsuk. You’re a lot of help,” you complimented him.

“Yeah, sure. No biggie.”

While waiting for the elevator to reach your floor, Hyunsuk suddenly had an idea.

“Hey, y/n,”

“Yup?”

“Have you had lunch?”

“Well…I’m ordering some takeout later. Why?” You turned to face him now.

“Ah, it’s just.” Hyunsuk paused. “The boys and I are all having lunch at my dorm.”

“Ahh I see. Sounds fun!” You smiled at him.

“Well I was wondering…if you’d like to join us?”

“Oh? Is that really okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Hyunsuk snickered at your question. “It’s been a while since we all hung out together, I’m sure the boys would be happy to have you join us,”

“Hmm.” You thought to yourself for a while.

Ding! The elevator reached your floor.

“Oh, it’s my floor.”

Hyunsuk pressed on the button to keep the doors open for you.

“Thanks,” you said to him. “I uh…I’d love to join you guys,” you added.

“Yay!”

“Ah, but can we stop over at my place for a bit?” You said, giving him an apologetic smile.

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Main Entrance/Living Room)

“Just wait til the boys see you, they’d be so happy,” Hyunsuk said to you as he closed the door behind the both of you, his cute smile beaming at you.

You nodded back at him as you took your shoes off at the entrance.

“I’m back! Where is everyone??” Hyunsuk called out as he entered the living room.

“I’m in the kitchen, hyung!” you both heard Doyoung answer from the kitchen.

You followed Hyunsuk into the living room and there you saw Asahi, Haruto and Junghwan sitting around chatting with each other.

“Heyy, where’s Yoshi?” Hyunsuk asked the maknaes with you still following close behind him.

“Yoshi-hyung went to help clean Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk because they kept making snow in the kitchen using flour,” Asahi answered him.

“Ahh, that seems like something they’d do,” Hyunsuk snickered.

Junghwan stopped looking at his phone to look at Hyunsuk, and that’s when he noticed you.

“Noona!” Junghwan immediately got up from the floor, rushing towards you.

You lift a finger to your mouth, signalling him not to be too loud since you were planning to surprise the rest who hasn’t known you’re here.

Junghwan nodded and pointed at the paper bag in your hand. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“It’s Junkyu’s shirt that I used last time,” you replied.

Junghwan was about to talk to you further but then Hyunsuk had already excitedly pulled you with him towards the kitchen.

The moment the both of you had approached the kitchen’s doorframe, you could already see your other friends’ faces and you were happy to see them since you haven’t seen them for days. Well, most of them.

You smiled at them but then none of them returned your smile, making you wonder what they were so immersed with.

You recognised the person that was speaking in front of you, the guy that you had sort of missed these couple of days—especially since that weird incident that happened between him and Chani which had resulted in you rarely seeing him around you anymore.

Your grip on the paper bag in your hand tightened, you felt hopeful now that you’re finally seeing him again.

Now, of course you didn’t know the whole dispute that begun in the kitchen at the time—where Junkyu was being all bitter about Chani leeching on to you but instead of lashing out about Chani, he had made the mistake of venting his feeling of annoyance towards you.

And so, the timing when you entered the kitchen was when Junkyu was already saying this:

“…doesn’t care anything about us. We’re always looking out for her, but what do we get in return??”

You tilt your head, wondering who he was talking about. Hyunsuk, who was beside you also seemed confuse as to why everyone looked so tense in the kitchen.

You were about to step further into the kitchen when suddenly, Junkyu said—

“Y/n is annoying,”

You immediately stopped your foot from advancing. Your eyes lift up to see Yedam, Jihoon, Doyoung and Mashiho all staring at you, fear clearly showing on their faces because this time, they all realised you were directly behind Junkyu. Which meant…you clearly heard what he had said.

Suddenly, you saw Jihoon bursting out in laughter. “HAHAHAHAA very funny Junkyu! Look at you! What a horrible joke to make!” he laughed.

You took a deep breath, thinking maybe they were pulling a prank on you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could say anything, Junkyu had already spoken up again—

“No, I wasn’t kidding! Y/n really is annoying. She’s a bother—”

“HYUNG STOP!” Yedam yelled, noticing how your expression changed drastically the moment you heard Junkyu’s words this time.

Hyunsuk immediately placed his hand on your shoulder, feeling shocked. But right now, he was more worried about you because you heard it all.

The air felt heavy in the kitchen…everyone going silent for a few seconds.

And then slowly, Junkyu turned around, his eyes meeting yours.

“Y-y/n…” he said, his voice slightly shaking now.

You stood there quietly, your fingers fiddling with the paper bag in your hand.

You blinked a couple times, your gaze slowly avoiding his. What is this feeling you’re having right now? Why does your chest hurt so bad?

Junkyu could hear his own heartbeat sounds ringing in his ears. He felt bad. He felt really bad. He saw how you slowly looked away from him, making him feel even worst.

Junkyu couldn’t handle the heavy tension going on in the kitchen so he immediately dashes out of the kitchen, leaving everyone else behind him.

You felt his presence leave you, as he passes by you. You bit your lower lip, holding in the tears that were forming in your eyes now.

Everyone else exchanged glances with one another, wondering what they should do now.

Mashiho switched off the stove, knowing that he should at least save their meals from getting burnt since he had a feeling that what had happened would take up some time to be solved.

Yedam lets out a heavy sigh, deciding to approach you since you wouldn’t stop staring at the paper bag in your hands now.

“Damn,” Jihoon muttered to himself as he tossed the knife that he had been holding since just now. He shook his head as he made his way to leave the kitchen.

As he passed by Hyunsuk, his hyung raised a hand, implying him to stop.

“What is it, hyung?” Jihoon said in an exasperated tone.

“Go easy on him,” Hyunsuk adviced, knowing that Jihoon would definitely go to console his best friend.

“Hm.” Jihoon hummed as he nods. He leaves the kitchen, not sparing a glance at you.

Treasure Dorm #1 (Junkyu’s Room)

Junkyu closed the door behind him. He started breathing raggedly, his breaths uncontrollable by now. Is he having a panic attack right now?

He tried to walk towards his bed, but instead, his legs failed him. He ended up kneeling on the floor instead, trying to catch his breath.

He kept imagining the pained look you gave him earlier. He knew, he had hurt you. He had hurt you bad. He messed up badly this time.

Junkyu clenched his fists, his chest hurting, his head throbbing. He felt pain all over. Why? Why did he have to utter all those nonsense about you? He didn’t mean all of it. He really didn’t. He cares about you.

Junkyu lets out a soft sob, unable to hold his tears this time. He felt his tears streaming down his cheeks by now.

“Junkyu!” He heard Jihoon’s voice calling his name.

Jihoon hurriedly closed the door behind him, quickly approaching his best friend who was close to collapsing onto the floor.

Jihoon wrapped his arms around Junkyu, pulling his best friend up to his feet, dragging him over towards the bed.

Once he had made sure Junkyu was already sitting comfortably on the bed, Jihoon sat down on the floor, facing Junkyu.

Junkyu covered his face with his hands, softly sobbing into them.

“Junkyu…”

“Stop. Please, stop. I know. I know,” he said, his sobs getting louder.

Jihoon placed his hand onto Junkyu’s knee, patting it gently. He couldn’t bear watching Junkyu cry like this. It’s rare enough to see Junkyu cry about something but right now, seeing him as a sobbing mess, Jihoon couldn’t help but sympathise him.

“I hurt her, hyung. I hurt her. I’m a horrible person!” Junkyu tried to speak up this time, his sobs a little under control now.

Jihoon shook his head. “No, no Junkyu. You’re not a bad person. You slipped, that’s all. Okay? You didn’t mean what you said, did you?”

Junkyu wiped the tear streaks on his face with the back of his hand. He shook his head furiously, “No way! I don’t! I really don’t. I just—I was just upset when Yedam said Chani and y/n looked like a couple…I…I don’t want to have to picture them being together, hyung!”

“I know, I know…” Jihoon answered softly, his hand still patting Junkyu’s knee gently.

“Hyung….how do I fix this…? Y/n must hate me right now,”

“No…she wouldn’t, okay? Y/n is a nice person, she wouldn’t hate you in one day,” Jihoon assured his best friend.

Junkyu shook his head again. “No! She would, she deserves to hate me!”

Junkyu took a deep breath, trying to control his own ragged breathing.

Pushing his hair to the back with one hand, Junkyu continued, “I told you…I told you, didn’t I? That liking her would bring us something like this,”

“Junkyu, there’s nothing wrong with you liking y/n, okay?”

“No, hyung! You know this. You can see it too, right?”

Junkyu lets out another heavy sigh.

“Yah…Kim Junkyu…it’s all gonna be alright, get it?”

Junkyu kept quiet for a while, sniffling once or twice. He contemplated for a while before asking his hyung another question.

“You said last time that you had a feeling that someone would like y/n among us, and you said that you knew who it was going to be, right??”

Jihoon nodded, remembering the talk they had after you all had that first lunch-meet with y/n.

“That person…who was it?” Junkyu’s eyes were now staring into Jihoon’s.

“I—” Jihoon lets out a sigh. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s you! Why do you think I keep pushing you to talk to her? Why do I keep teasing you about y/n? I even made sure y/n sits opposite you most of the time whenever we eat together, just so you both could stare at each other’s faces,”

Junkyu wiped his tear-stained eyes again. “W-what?” he sniffled.

“Duh! The moment we first met y/n, I had a feeling you both were attracted to each other. You both just needed a little push, that’s all.” Jihoon was no longer patting his best friend’s knee now, seeing that he had stopped crying.

“Hyung…”

“Aigoo! Look at you, crying like this. Yah, how are you going to face y/n later?” Jihoon chuckled softly, teasing Junkyu.

“Y-yah. I’m still handsome,”

“Pfft, yeah sure. Tell that to your red nose and puffy eyes,”

Junkyu swallowed the invisible lump in his throat, a small smile creeping on his lips as he succumbed to Jihoon’s teasing.

Jihoon lets out a sigh.

“Hyung…can I ask you a question?”

“Hm? What is it?”

“You see it too, right?

“See what?”

Junkyu clicked his tongue. “Tsk, you know, hyung. I know, you know.”

“Junkyu I don’t have time for your out-of-the-world curiosity,” Jihoon said as he shook his head.

“Aw come on hyung. You know. You know…that I’m not the only one who likes y/n, right?”

“Duhh, of course! It’s you and that Chani kid,”

Junkyu shook his head again. “No. Someone else. Someone else in our group.”

Jihoon’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

And as if on cue, Junkyu’s bedroom door opened.

Both of them turned to see—Hyunsuk entering, closing the door right after.

“Hyunsuk-hyung.” Both Junkyu and Jihoon said at the same time.

Treasure Dorm #1 (Kitchen)

When Jihoon left the kitchen to go console Junkyu who had stormed off, Yedam and Hyunsuk stayed by your side to make sure you were okay.

You were still staring at the paper bag in your hand.

You had planned to return Junkyu’s shirt today, and maybe talk to him. It’s funny how you sort of miss him, when in reality, the both of you usually only made small talk with each other.

“Y/n, I…” Yedam tried to speak, but then he stopped. He shook his head. He wouldn’t know how to fix this right now. All that he knew was that you must have felt sad after hearing what his hyung said earlier.

Hyunsuk pulled you closer to him, wrapping one arm around you, causing you to lean your head against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry y/n” he whispered to you.

Yedam stood still beside the both of you, his face still showing concern over you. He should have stopped Junkyu much earlier, he thought.

Doyoung and Mashiho, who were still near the kitchen stove too, watched over you, not continuing their cooking.

You tried your best to not feel sad, you didn’t want your friends to worry over you too much. But how? You still felt the sharp pain in your chest, and you know it’s not a heart attack that you’re having right now.

You let yourself lean comfortably in Hyunsuk’s arm that was wrapped around you, and without realising, a tear flowed down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Yedam said in a sad tone when he noticed you crying.

Hyunsuk immediately wrapped both his arms around you, hugging you close to him. “Shh, shh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry y/n,”

You closed your eyes and you felt your tears wetting your cheeks even more now. Crap. You’re crying now.

Yedam looked around the room, noticing that both Doyoung and Mashiho were looking super sad as they watched you silently crying in Hyunsuk’s arms.

“I…I just…” You said softly.

“Hm? What is it, y/n?” Hyunsuk leaned close to you, wanting to hear what you were saying clearly.

“I just…” you stopped to swallow a silent sob before continuing, “I just wanted to see him…I just wanted to return his shirt, that’s all. I didn’t know…that all these while I was annoying him,” your voice straining as you said the final words that pained you.

Hyunsuk and Yedam exchanged glances with each other.

After a few minutes of silently sobbing, you slowly lifted your head from Hyunsuk’s embrace, making him releasing his arms from you gently.

You wiped your tears and took a deep breath. “Hyunsuk,”

“Yes?”

“Could you help me return this to him?” you asked, as you pushed the paper bag in your hand to his.

“N-now?”

“Anytime works. I…I don’t think I should see him for now. He’s…clearly annoyed with me being here,” you said half-jokingly. You tried to giggle when you said this, but it only made you sound even sadder than you look right now.

Hyunsuk held onto the bag that you gave him. “Sure. I’ll give it to him. Don’t worry, he’s not annoyed with you, I’m sure of that,” he said, trying to assure you.

You chuckled softly. “Clearly he is, but it’s okay.”

You took a deep breath and pushed your hair behind your ears. Forcing yourself to smile at your friends, you tried your best to sound okay when you said, “So, you both making lunch today?” You asked Doyoung and Mashiho that had been staring at you.

“Uhh, ah yeah. We’re making kimchi jjigae…” Doyoung answered you.

“Smells good,”

“Thanks,” Doyoung said as he nodded slightly towards you.

Mashiho turned towards the stove again, “We’ll resume cooking, alright? And then we’ll all eat together.” Mashiho turned to look at you, flashing his warm smile at you.

You smiled a small smile and nodded.

“Yedamie, you take y/n to the living room, okay? Let her rest up there. I’m gonna go check on Junkyu for a bit,” Hyunsuk said to Yedam.

“Okay, hyung.”

Hyunsuk leaned down close to you, his face levelling with yours. He stroked your cheek with one hand and said to you gently, “I’m gonna go first, okay? Don’t cry no more. It’s gonna be okay.”

You stared into his eyes for a couple seconds before nodding slowly.

And with that, Hyunsuk left the kitchen, your paper bag consisting of Junkyu’s shirt in his hand.

Yedam linked his arm around yours, “Come on y/n. Let’s rest up in the living room, okay?”

Treasure Dorm #1 (Living Room)

Now, bringing you to the living room isn’t really the best idea as of the moment—

Why?

Well, you see, the moment Yedam and you approached the rest of the kids who were in the living room, they were all shocked to see your tear-stained face and flushed complexion.

Unlike the rest who were busy gaping over what they were seeing, Junghwan immediately got up on his feet and rushed over to you.

“Noona! What happened? Why…? Did you cry earlier??”

“Shh, let y/n sit first,” Yedam said softly to the maknae.

Haruto got up from his seat on the sofa and pointed towards the seat, telling you to sit there.

You were still in a daze after your crying earlier so you simply complied with whatever they told you to do.

Finally sitting down, you leaned back against the cushion behind you.

Yoshi, who was sitting closely beside Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk after helping them clean up earlier, decided to go to the kitchen to get you some water since you looked restless at the moment.

Asahi, who was seated beside you right now, turned to look at you—his usual expressionless face showing.

“So…what exactly happened…” Jeongwoo said slowly.

Yedam sat down on the floor, close to the boy asking the question and lets out a sigh.

“Something…happened in the kitchen.”

“Like…?”

“Just…something.” Yedam answered simply.

“That’s not very helpful Yedam,” Jaehyuk said this time. “How are we supposed to know what happened if you don’t tell us,”

You bit your lower lip as you felt it quivering again. It’s all happening again. You could still hear Junkyu’s voice in the back of your head, even when you’re shutting your eyes right now.

“Y/n is annoying.”

Your chest felt tight once again. You opened your eyes and sat up straight, surprising the rest who were still prodding Yedam to tell them what happened.

You stood up from the sofa and looked around you. The faces of your friends showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

You shook your head. “I…I think I’ll leave now,”

You were about to leave but then Yedam quickly grabs your hand. “Y/n? Aren’t you joining us for lunch?”

You shook your head slowly. “Maybe next time, okay?” you said, your voice shaking now. You looked at Yedam, your eyes glossy with tears that you were trying to hold back.

“Y/n…”

“It’s okay! I’m okay!” You said as you faked a laugh.

Yedam hesitantly lets go of your hand. He didn’t want you to go. But he also didn’t want to force you.

You quickly walked towards the house entrance, not looking back and immediately grabbing your shoes in your hand, as you leave the front door.

Yedam lets out a heavy sigh once you were gone from their sight.

“Hyung, what happened…?” Haruto asked this time.

Yedam sighs again before saying, “I’ll tell you all about it in a bit. I need to go tell Hyunsuk-hyung that Y/n left,”

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Front door)

The moment you stepped out of their dorm, the door shutting behind you, you walked as fast as you could, hoping that you’ll be far enough from them for now.

It was at least few metres away from their dorm’s door that you stopped to lean your side against the wall of the corridor to control your breathing.

You felt out of breath because you had been holding in your tears, and now…it’s just hurting you.

Slowly, your shoulder still resting against the wall, you slide down to your feet. By now you’re already kneeling on the floor with your palm holding onto the wall for support.

A loud sob escaped your lips. Ah crap. Now you’re starting to cry out the tears you’ve been holding in. And you’re doing it in public too.

But could you blame yourself for being this sad and dramatic?

“Y/n is annoying.”

You shook your head, trying to stop yourself from hearing to those words over again.

Is this your first time being called annoying? Maybe. But would you care if anyone called you annoying? No.

Then why was this hurting you too much?

Was it because you thought that Junkyu and you were finally becoming friends?

You thought the both of you were already clicking. You thought….that maybe, Junkyu had liked being friends with you. He was more open with you recently…then why? Why did he say that about you?

You thought…ah, that’s right.

You thought.

You kept thinking that everything was working out fine with you both. You’ve never clearly thought if Junkyu himself was enjoying being friends with you.

You swallowed your sob, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“Silly me. He’s clearly annoyed with me all this while. He’s just too nice to say it to my face,” you muttered to yourself.

You blinked and again you felt your tears wet your cheeks.

You’re starting to feel annoyed with yourself too by now, considering you wouldn’t stop crying.

Why are you this sad?? You shook your head softly. Could it be…that you have some feelings for him? Have you caught feelings for Junkyu and yet you never realised it?

You pushed your hair back and took a deep breath, trying to stop yourself from crying again.

Slowly, you got up on your feet and tried to stand up properly now.

You should just hurry and return to your apartment unit, you thought. Maybe make yourself a cup of warm drink and just calm yourself down.

And just as you stepped forward, you suddenly felt a pair of arms pulling you from behind.

The arms hugged your waist tightly, and you felt the back of your head resting against someone’s chest.

The familiar voice said to you softly, “You’re not annoying. You were never annoying. He’s stupid to think of you that way.”

You then felt yourself being hugged closer by the boy behind you. “You…you’re so nice to us. You don’t deserve to be told as annoying at all,” he added, sounding upset.

To be continued…

#ALIY #sandwichrin #treasure #treasure fanfic #TREASURE IMAGINE #ygtreasure #treasuremembers #alltreasuremembers #JunKyu #kim junkyu #junkyu x reader #junkyu scenarios #kimjunkyu #kim junkyu x reader #kimjunkyu x reader #treasurefanfic #treasurefic

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renjunbae · 3 years ago

Text

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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