#I've never written a college au before but it's fun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuntdevil · 9 days ago

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★ PRETTY BROWN EYES !

he hoped to swoon you with his gorgeous brown eyes and bright personality ─── never mind the fact that he has a girlfriend.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, takuma ino, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 5,017 words !

╰┈�� takuma ino & shy student!reader, college!au, infidelity, virgin!reader, yapper!takuma ino, corruption kink, slight public groping, car sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pussyjob, creampie, momentary cockwarming, etc.

( anonymous said . . . ) okay, so i was wondering if you could write for takuma ino. the idea was that reader was a shy new student and he immediately becomes obsessed and wants to be with her, but he's currently in a relationship . . . smut with corruption, loss of virginity trope, and some angst . . .

╰┈➤ author's response: i've never written for takuma before so please don't shoot me if you don't feel like the characterization is correct. i was trying to go with possessive while trying to feign like he was a good guy. hopefully you like it because it was a lot of fun writing this fic!

Men are such easy creatures that it’s no wonder that they’re closely compared to animals when it comes to their instincts. A woman can be nice to them once and they’ll take it as a sign that they’re flirting when it can be the very opposite. Takuma always thought of himself as a better man, but he’s proven wrong when you call for attention. Your shadow shields him from the bright lights within the large room, where you didn’t say much to him at all. In a soft voice that barely raised above a whisper, you simply asked, “Is anyone sitting here?”

He could tell that you were a timid thing, just by the way you instinctively crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer. He thought he was a better man for always being respectful, abiding by people’s boundaries and giving women their space. He was a sweet thing and according to his girlfriend, he could make any girl swoon with his pretty brown eyes. Boyish features that are so adorably hot that he could bag any woman he wanted— according to his girlfriend. And he never took her seriously, fanning off her words, but here he is right now, wondering if he could potentially “bag” you. And he should feel guilty, he really should, but he wants to take it as a conquest now. His curiosity gets the best of him as he asks himself, could he?

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until you feel a sense of discomfort, squirming at his wandering eyes. “I’ll just— I’ll just go find another seat…”

“Wait! My seat’s—” he blurts in an effort to call out for you, but you ignore him and try to find the next open seat with someone else. He curses under his breath, the professor walking through the door and asking everyone to get in their seats. Takuma slouches as he frowns, his bottom lip jutting out as he spins back in the swivel chair as he opens up his iPad. He knew what his girlfriend said was too bullshit to be true.

The next time Takuma sees you is at the courtyard. He was supposed to be meeting up with his girlfriend for a study session as they share a few classes together under the same major, but you had completely shifted his train of thought that he made a bee line straight towards you instead. Sliding into the vacant seat across from you, he drags your attention away from your laptop and the tupperware of sushi sitting next to it. Your curious eyes quickly turn to a grimace that you best tried to hide when you saw that it was Takuma. “...Hi?”

“Hi,” he responds back in a more chipper tone, though his insides said the very opposite as his heart panged against his chest. “I wanted to apologize about what happened the last time. I was being a creep.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected that, the apology catching you off guard that you didn’t know what to say, but when do you ever? He stared at you with those brown eyes. He was cute, you can’t help but admit, but there’s still something unsettling about him. You’re not quite sure if that’s your anxiety talking or just how he shamelessly sat across you, startling your peace. He had good intentions, though, so you tried your best to not put too much thought into it. At the fact that he has yet to leave, you expect that he’s waiting for your forgiveness. “It’s okay.”

However, to your dismay, he’s getting himself comfortable at your self-acclaimed table for the time being, loosening one of the straps over his shoulder as he slings his backpack onto his lap and unzipping it. He asked no questions on your preference, just making himself comfortable as he pulled out his laptop and set it open on the table. His eyes glancing over at you periodically. “Hey, what��s your major? I don’t really recognize you… but then, this is a large campus, so maybe we’re just running into each other this year.”

Should I answer him? The question rang inside your head over and over, a heavy rise in your chest coming to stand as you felt at a loss of breath. He was only trying to be nice, you figured. And it didn’t hurt to be nice back, your inner monologue reminding you. “I’m a… transfer student.”

His eyes brightened at that, eyebrows rising at the newfound information. “A transfer student, oh really?”

He went on like that for the next hour until you saw a figure coming in your direction. A girl with shoulder-length hair that shimmered from a black to a blue. Piercing brown eyes that seemed deadlier than Medusa the moment they landed on her boyfriend before her eyes found yours. They shone of unfamiliarity before they sparked to anger, her perfectly threaded eyebrows knitted together before stomping towards the both of you. “Ino, what are you doing here?”

Face contorting into confusion, Takuma turns around in his seat. Having forgotten all about his girlfriend, he nearly jumps out of his seat at the sight of her. His first instinct is to reach for the phone, the quick glance leading him to curse. “Fuck. Kazua, I’m so sorry… I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” In a flash, the young man— Kazua— brushes her boyfriend off. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You could’ve sworn you heard her say, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a thing done with you there anyway. She shoots you a nasty glare as she storms away, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Takuma doesn’t hesitate to run after her, but his footsteps stagger as he takes a second to look back at you. His movement stops, where his feet shuffle and he’s unsure what to do. It takes him a moment to muster out a “sorry!” before rushing after the angered girl to explain his side of the story. Which turned out useless as Kazua had given Ino the silent treatment— this time, he’s not sure how long for.

Takuma realizes that he really doesn’t have much charm to him in ways that other men have. He learns this through every interaction that he has with you in comparison to every other guy that’s come to approach you. From what he sees, they’re flirting with you — your eyes would light up and you would smile politely as they slid in the seat next to you. They’d spark up a bit of conversation and actually get more than an ounce of words out of you. Every time he approaches you, there’s a grimace in your eyes. Or, maybe it’s all in his head.

He never notices how you’ve come to make space for him when he approaches. Simply sliding in the seat across from you and talking your ear off. He doesn’t pay attention when you’re starting to pay a bit more attention, your hums of ‘mhm’ are soft, but still a tell-tale sign that you have been listening— that you are listening. And if he had been truly paying attention, he’d notice the small twinkle in your eyes whenever he’s near and the way your lips curve upwards when he says something interesting or humorous. He’s so caught up in his nerves that he’s blinded by anxiety.

It catches him off guard when he finds you perched at the far corner of the bar, barely noticeable if he hadn’t known you. A bar well-frequented by students of the university, Takuma liked to come here particularly after his Friday classes in the evenings to blow off a little steam. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it was as if you had miraculously appeared there the moment his vision cleared. It was a perplexing sight because he’d never take you for someone to go to bars. However, there you sit, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped top and a denim skirt that falls a few inches below your ass.

There’s a shred of confidence that rises within Takuma then as he walks up to you. And he falls into routine, grabbing the vacant stool right next to you. The legs scrape the ground and make you jump in fright. Turning your head, your glare quickly turns into a gaze of familiarity, smiling when you see Takuma. “Oh, hi!”

This time he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your gaze. Have you always been looking at him that way?

Truthfully, while this had been a Friday night where he’d have come to the bar, he had another reason to be here. His girlfriend had finally messaged him, wanting to speak about things from their short break. And usually, when this arose, he wouldn’t hesitate to meet her here, but now that he was, he didn’t feel any hope in their relationship anymore. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored its small tickle as he was completely transfixed on you. “I didn’t peg you as someone who goes to bars.”

“I’m not,” you admit. “But I needed to get out of my dorm room… and my roommate was having some guy over.”

Takuma laughs. “The roommate kicking you out sounds more like what happened.”

You nudge him, despite the bemusement in your eyes. From finding him to be a small nuisance to accepting and genuinely enjoying his presence, you’re grateful that Takuma had shown up tonight. You had felt so out of place and your drink tasted horrible. However, you didn’t want to ask for another and waste it. It wasn’t your first time at a bar, but your first time at one alone. While you were one who enjoyed solitude, the bar wasn’t one of those places where you typically sought it. You felt stupid for coming here. Now, Takuma washed away all of those nerves.

Time washed away to something nonexistent. Takuma had ordered you something that tasted sweeter, better than your other drink. He spoke up for you when you were afraid to do it for yourself, and as the night had gotten later, he had grown more handsy with you. A subtle shift in him that you left unquestioned when you felt his hand touch your thigh, him scooting a tad bit closer to you, his legs unparting yours. He continued talking to you, eyes never deterring away from yours and you couldn’t help yourself from the captivation they held.

Was this what they called liquid courage? You asked yourself. You hadn’t had much of either drinks, an unfamiliarity swirling inside of you as you weren’t aware whether the attraction you felt towards him was genuine or what you’ve had to drink. These emotions had been sweltering inside of you for a while, but what makes now so different? Why does this patter in your heartbeat feel more distinct than the rest?

Is it the hand that continues to be so daring as he leans closer to you, invading your personal space? How he remains so nonchalant, continuously sporting that boyish charm he possesses while he talks to you. Your skirt’s risen up significantly from its original length, and the lights have dimmed to the point where no one can really detect his movement. They can’t really see how he’s gotten his hand slotted against your inner thigh, creeping closer to what he so desires right now.

He’s stopped talking at some point, but you can’t tell when. Fingers prodding at your clothed pussy, running smooth and tandem circles right against your clit as he watches you try to keep your composure. Your posture’s become slumped, breath becoming more jagged when he applies more pressure. He has to hop down from the stool to pull yours closer, making the wood touch each other as he’s given you no time to react. Your heart simply races as you come to gasp. He tastes sweet, but you’re even sweeter. Sweeter than he’s imagined.

Nights where he’s spent thinking about you instead of Kazua, concealing his moans and breathy grunts as his fist is wrapped around himself. Oh, how his cock leaked deplorably to the thought of you underneath him. How he’d love to be sheathed inside of your pussy for hours on end, rutting inside of you until your sweet cunt ached and only begged for him. The smell of him was so pungent that the next day, his roommate didn’t need to hear him to know what transpired during his slumber.

You were such a cute and quiet little thing that managed to get him so worked up, that he wanted to do the same for you. He should’ve felt ashamed the moment the bartender had interrupted, asking the both of them to leave, the moment things became too obvious. His cheeks should’ve reddened like how grew flustered and didn’t want to look anyone in the face on your way out, but he felt so accomplished within himself that he couldn’t.

You let him lead you to his car, the small silver automobile that was parked not too far from the entrance. His mind led him to contemplate, to wonder what he should do to you, where exactly should he bring you to, but the moment he heard the click of his doors open, he grabbed your hand and let his cock do the thinking for him. You landed on the leather seats with a thud and a yelp falling from your lips, Takuma hoisting you further inside by the hips as he didn’t hesitate to reattach his lips against you.

Your skirt no longer covered your ass, hiked up so high that it was around your waist now, your bare legs ready for the taking. The heat of his hands travel up and down your thighs, your moans sounding in the car. The moment you feel his erection ground against your core does this all feel too real. Your breath quickens, but not in its haughty need but with anxiousness as a lump starts to form. Suddenly, you’re not kissing him anymore, finding the strength within you to push him off. It has him taken aback, pulling away in concern. That hunger slowly dissipates as he searches for the problem. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” You diverted eye contact, finding entertainment in the back of the front seats instead as you struggled to let your confession out. When you do, it’s below a whisper, hard for Takuma to hear with the sounds of the bustling night, but he catches it— “I’m a virgin.”

It should be shameful for the way he felt jovial at the confession. Something that felt so embarrassing for you to admit was something that ignited something deep inside of him. It made him realize that he truly was no better than any other man with the way his cock stirred and how suffocating the air felt even more for you. Those beautiful brown hues within his pupils pool with a darkness that’s so carnal that it has you shrinking within his hold. “Ta—Takuma?”

He snaps out of it, leaving that headspace and returning back to normal. He gets it now — why guys find it so hot to be with a virgin. That feeling of superiority and power over someone so innocent. Gosh, he should’ve expected it. Everything about you screams the word itself. He brings himself to smile, his pearly whites seeming to dazzle in the dim lights of the street lamps shining inside the vehicle windows. Your eyes— those pretty pretty eyes look up at him with concern, but his smile makes it all go away as he utters out, “That’s fine. I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers are back to prodding at your panties, pretty pink cotton with a wet patch right at the center. He can feel your arousal bubble at every press of his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles and the infinity symbol into you. You’ve a God-given gift bestowed to him. A blessing you truly are to be splayed underneath for the taking. You moan, every action causing a reaction as you buck your hips, begging for more. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt and to his skin, tugging him closer to you. You can’t think straight. There’s an ache in your back, pressed deep against the leather of the seats and the tight space is all too much.

When you imagined this moment, you never imagined it in the back seat of a car, but you want this. You’ve convinced yourself of this and so have those eyes of his. You feel no shame anymore when he parts your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb pushing deep against you. Your juices seep from you, coating his digit in your delicacy as he goes up and down, up and down, up and down. Your inner thighs quiver, the feeling of someone’s touch much better than your own.

He’s gentle— for the most part. He’d nip at your pump bottom lips, making them swell when he sucks at it. He marks up your skin, creating deep and dark blotches on your flesh that are too high up to be hidden with a shirt. And now that his index and middle finger have entered the mix, teasing the entrance of your sweet cunt, he’s ready to bully your insides with them in his greedy attempts to take care of you.

He tells you, “gotta stretch you out,” when you whine. When in truth, he’s gluttonous for the sounds that you make. How, your voice gets all high-pitched and your nails dig past the fabric and more into his skin that it’s enough to bruise. However, he’ll be bashful to wake up to them.

“Ah, Takuma!” you cry out, back arching against the seats as your chest presses into his. Bottom lip still caged by him, he bites down harshly against them and causes you to mewl out in pain. Slowly do those moans become whimpers as he batters your poor pussy with his fingers and the gnawing of his teeth against your supple flesh. It feels like a mockery when he sees you crying, cooing at you ever-so-gently as he asks, “Aww, why are you crying? I’m giving you what your pussy needs.”

He comes to kiss them away, detaching himself from your lips to taste the salt of your tears and further soothing you with gentle kisses that contrast the drilling of his fingers. He fucks you with those two simple digits, ignoring the way your legs would flex and contract, squirming against his hold. The discomfort of the car soon went on ignored from the immense amount of pleasure, your slick drooling down his fingers as they twisted and twirled inside of you.

A euphoric dance the two of you partnered in. It never slows down until that knot inside your stomach starts to form, a twinkle of light sparking deep inside of you as your walls pulsate around Takuma and you’re stammering out on your words. “Ino, it feels s–so good… Please, I think ‘m about’ta—”

“Yeah, yeah…” he chuckles. “I know.”

You cream all over his fingers, your body instinctively rolling your hips in efforts to feel the way you do now. He finds you beautiful like this, face contorted in immense pleasure as you gasp out an ‘Oh.’ And fuck, it’s so hot how you paint his digits in a white, that he ruts against the car seat, bashfully tasting your release. His pupils dilate, humming in delight as he presses himself down further into the seats. You’re forced to watch in awe, not that you’re complaining, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more of Takuma.

“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he breathes, not wasting another second with his cock concealed in his jeans. Within the tight confines of the car, Takuma shimmies out of his pants, pulling his underwear down along with it. You’ve maneuvered yourself to lean against the car door, your elbows helping you hold your weight up as you watch Takuma’s cock spring free from the tight fixtures of his pants. It’s pretty, just like him— sporting an average length and exceeding in girth. His uncut tip leaks of arousal, twitching in the stuffy car air as it wants nothing more but to feel your tight walls cage him inside.

He bet it's nothing like his girlfriend’s. He already knows that you’re sweeter than his girlfriend’s. Your moans are even prettier and more sultry than hers. Because you have something against her, an innocence that still ties you down. And unlike his girlfriend, he’ll be the first to break it. Kazua was always straightforward, never wanting to engage in any foreplay. Never would sex last long with her, but with you? He can take his time.

Precum continues to leak from him, his mushroom head glistening in his arousal as he spreads it. So sensitive from its neglect, he hisses when he touches it. His fingers cold as he wraps his fist around it, giving it a few pumps before hovering more over you. It’s dark outside, minus the street lamps illuminating its light inside of the car. Fortunately, no one has come to see them inside. Takuma can see how your pussy still shines from your orgasm, your pussy lips parted with your creamy essence as you occasionally clench around nothing.

His thumb has become familiar with you, pressing into your hole and eliciting a twitch from your body. He grabs your leg, a hearty grip on it as he drags you down without warning. You squeal, heart racing as your head hits the leather. Your eyes widen as both of his hands meet your hips to make the both of you further connect. He’s got your legs wrapped around him as he plays with your panties, pulling it back and letting it snap against your pussy. He watches how you flinch when it harshly makes contact with your clit, the slight jump making his cock do the same.

With his length slotted in between your legs, he moves himself perfectly in between your folds. The pressure of his cock maneuvered in between them, alleviating an ache that was there but never to its fullest degree as you still anticipate for more. For that pop of your cherry. However, he teases you and ultimately himself. With the way he presses his tip right at your clit, letting them kiss whenever he glides upwards.

“Please…Ino…” You beg, feeling ready for him, like you could take this big leap within your sexuality, you arch your back upwards and press it against him more. The fabric of your top and the friction of both of your chests against each other, tickling the dark nubs of your nipples and overstimulating you even further. You whine and whimper out in need, trying to pull him down and coax with the sensualness of your actions. But to no avail, he holds some restraint over himself. He wants to see how messy that pussy can get— just for him.

Your slick drools and stains his seats, but he can’t be mad at you. How could he when he’s the cause of all of this? Outside the scene of a noisy Friday night, Takuma can hear how sloppy and loud your cunt is, how your juices sound from the motions of his cock pressed against you. The two of you is all that can be heard, yours and his wanton moans and the wet sound of your tantalizing cunt painting his cock in all that is you. It makes it all the sweeter when he finally prods at your entrance, the head of his cock barely stretching it out before you’re tensing up all nervously.

He tries his best to console you, tries telling you that you’re in the best of care, but who is he kidding when all he wants to do is ruin you. But, he still does, hushing out your nervous cries as you hold onto him so tightly.

“Shhh…” he draws out. “You’re in good hands here—” Slowly, he enters you, careful enough not to scare you away, but still rough enough to where you’re shedding more tears than necessary. Yet, you convince yourself that it’s all part of the process, that truthfully, Takuma didn’t find pleasure in your pain. Part of it is true when the boy can’t make himself go any further the moment that he’s fully sheathed inside of you, waiting until he feels the hammer in your heart die down and until the grip on the back of his neck loosens and those pretty pretty eyes, all teary for him, finally blinks back open and a gentle nod gives him the okay he needs to keep going.

It’s a pain that stings you at first, filled with nothing but discomfort the more he rocks his hips. But that same pain dissipates moments later, camouflaging itself with pleasure as your legs tense around him and captures him closer to you. When you cry his name, it’s no longer from the pain in your voice, but a plea for more, an approval to his ego that he’s been successful.

The rock of his car is finally the tell-tale sign that calls for people’s attention, the fog within the glass being evident to what’s happening inside. Some people hurry off in disgust, heading straight to their destination without looking back, others lingering as they find out a new kink about themselves, arousal pooling inside of their pants as well. Through all the commotion outside of the bar as people enter the establishment, whispering about it in disgust, it calls for Kazua’s attention as she’s grown mighty impatient about her boyfriend. He has never been late to the bar, but then again, he’s never been late to a study date.

The past weeks he’s been occupied with that damn person that she never bothered learning the name of, simply looking at them and finding visceral disgust with them. It only made Kazua more upset at how Takuma wasn’t running to her anymore, pleading for forgiveness. No, he had found company in someone that wasn’t her. It made her furious. Furious enough to where she wanted to break up with him, but also not enough where she had the energy to.

Standing from her seat around the bar, in the far corner where you previously were— with said boyfriend— Kazua calls it a night, pulling out her phone to text Takuma and tell him off and vent about how he’s such an asshole, but the whispers of some stranger before her called her attention before she clicked send.

“They’re fucking disgusting,” a feminine voice scoffed in disgust. “Fucking like that in the parking lot— it’s not even empty!”

“Yeah, like, have some decorum and try to find somewhere more secluded at least,” their friend agrees, chiming in. “I don’t get people and their kinks these days. They’ve lost the art of shame.”

More and more people come in, speaking on the same subject, naming that the disgusting culprits aren’t too far from here. As a matter of fact, they’re a couple of steps away. In the pit of her stomach, Kazua has a feeling— a feeling that it could possibly be the man she’s been stood up by. However, she tries to convince herself that it was her nerves, her brain playing tricks on her. Nonetheless, she walks through the front door of the bar, eyes looking down both sides of the parking lot before she spots some passers-by, who just so happen to be pausing by a vehicle. They try to squint, peeping inside before they give up.

Kazua squirms as she tries to decipher if she should seem like a perverted prick or if she should let ignorance, in fact, be a bliss. However, her feet move for her involuntarily as she clutches herself in the chill of the night. The streetlamps overhead illuminate, brightening itself on the all too familiar vehicle that belongs to her boyfriend— Takuma.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at this feeling of bliss, back no longer on the bottom of the seats as Takuma plunges within you with all of his strength. You’ve exceeded his expectations, proving better than his wet dreams about you as he fucks into your pussy in delight. His moans become louder than yours as he bashfully meets your pelvis with his. Your slick, copious amounts pour from out of you, dripping between the crevice of your ass. That familiar coil in your stomach returns once more, a reminder of what’s to come.

“Ino,” you cry, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Fuuuuckkk, I’m about’ta—”

He kisses you, swallowing your warning whole as well as your moans. He feels his cock twitch inside of you, his pace slowing when he pulls away. “Shit, me, too. Fuck, fuckin’ cum with me. Please.”

You nod, a high-pitched ‘mhm’ falling from you as your mouth goes dry. You clench around him, locking his cock to you as your pussy creates rings around the base of him. Simultaneously, you milk him dry, your pussy swallowing every bit of his release until it’s forced out and dripping down. The both of you pant from exhaustion, Takuma stilling his actions as he’s buried deep inside of you still.

Those brown eyes of his. They look into yours with glee, the corners of the glistening as he smiles. One last chaste kiss he plants, gently gnawing down on your bottom lips as he’s about to fall against you. However, before he could do so, he heard heavy pounding against the glass. It calls for the both of you to sit up, desperately gasping for air as the two of you immediately suspect the police. However, the feminine voice that rings out in anger halts the male more than it does you. “Takuma!” Kazua yells from the outside, calling even more attention to the both of them now. “You better open up this door right now!”

( author's note. ) please let me know what you thought in the comments. i was a bit nervy writing this uwu.

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remlionheart · 1 month ago

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Anonymous asked:

PLZZZZ i beg you smoking sesh w megumi

♡‧₊˚ ask and you shall receive ✩࿐࿔ it's been a while since i've done a meg drabble and out of all of the different drugs we've explored on this page, this just made me realize that i've never written about weed lol so thank u for the suggestion this was really fun to write <333 home from college au. heavy we-shouldn't-be-doing-this trope. aged up characters. fem!reader x ((the peoples’ husband)), *⟡toxic!megumi*⟡ 3.2k words. porn with a plot. angst. degradation and praise. stoned sex. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ‎‎♡‧₊˚

❀ MDNI ❀

keep me h i g h ₊⊹

now playing: wet dreams ☾₊˚

⊹₊ ⋆✿

It'd been four months since the last time you'd seen Megumi.

Between college and the city lines that separated you, the two of you had cut almost every tie that once kept you connected. It was strange to think about sometimes - how quickly you'd gone from being the person he spent almost every weekend with to being nothing more than a fly on the wall of his social media, occasionally liking his posts but never getting anything back in return.

You tried to remind yourself that it shouldn't have been a surprise. Your relationship with him had never been easy. All throughout high-school you'd fallen into the same pattern of push and pull with him, his feelings everchanging and impossible to keep up with.

He'd kiss you in private and ignore you in public. Tell you that you were just friends and sneak through your window on the nights he didn't want to be alone. Run his hand along your back until you had fallen asleep and leave without so much as a "goodbye".

As painful as it was, a part of you had almost been relieved when things finally ended. No more pushing, no more pulling - just you and the new town you'd moved to. You and the new friends you'd made. You and your new fresh start. You still wanted the best for him despite everything, but you also wanted the best for yourself too. And deep down, you knew that didn't involve drunken hook-ups and empty words.

You hummed as you stepped out of the shower, the smell of coconut shampoo and lavender body wash dancing around you. It was unexpectedly comforting to be back home, even if it was only for a few days. Your roommates had tried to talk you out of coming back to Tokyo for fall break, but you knew you couldn't do that to your parents. You were certain there would be another time for going out and Halloween house parties.

Your room was still exactly the same as you'd left it - a mess of purple blankets on your bed and off white string-lights decorating the walls. Clothes that you'd left behind still hanging in your closet along with a stack of old journals. Tarot cards and candles and framed pictures of you and your friends sitting atop your dresser. It was nice to know that it still felt like your safe haven despite months of not seeing it.

You continued humming the same song that you'd started in the shower as you slipped on a baby-blue tank top, pairing it with your favorite silk pajama shorts. You lit a couple of candles and cracked the window open, letting crisp October air swirl through your room before turning off the overhead light and crawling into bed.

A cozy sense of nostalgia crept over you as you nestled into your bed and pulled out your phone.

Just like when you lived here, you were the only one still up after a movie had put both of your parents to sleep. You were mid-scroll, debating on what Youtube rabbit hole you wanted to go down for the night when a text popped up that immediately put you in an upright position again.

⋆｡˚ ☁️˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

⋆｡˚ ☁️ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

You called him as soon as his last text came through, but he sent you straight to voicemail. "fushiguro," you texted frantically, "seriously", "you can't do this".

You were out of bed and on your feet before you even knew what you were doing, rushing to lock your door as you quickly realized that there was no such thing as reasoning with him.

Your life had changed in an assortment of ways since you'd left and judging by the way he texted you, he had to know that too. The last picture you posted before coming back was of you and a boy that you'd been seeing for the last month. It was mostly casual, neither one of you quite ready to put a label on what you were doing, but it still made your stomach flutter thinking about seeing Megumi when you were actively sleeping with someone else.

You dialed his number again, only to immediately hang up. Your heart suddenly lodged in your throat when you noticed that you could hear the call ringing from both inside and outside of your room.

You watched his slender fingers loop under the base of your already cracked window, stealthily pushing it up like he'd done so many times before. A sea of memories flooded over you as he pulled himself up, swiftly swooping both of his legs into your room before projecting the rest of his body forward and landing perfectly in place, hardly make a sound.

The low glow of your string-lights grazed his face, the prettiest shade of blue meeting your stare while the two of you took a moment to study the person in front of you.

"Your parents really need to invest in a better security system."

You hated the laugh that escaped you. The slight smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. The way your blood still danced in your veins at just the sight of him.

So much had changed in the last four months and yet, here you both were.

"Surely you didn't come all the way over here just to critique our home safety." You whispered.

"Seems like someone should." He countered, following behind you as you took a seat on the side of the bed.

He fished a joint and a lighter out of the front pocket of his jacket before tossing it onto the floor, leaving him in a black v-neck that accentuated his arms. He'd always been toned, but it was obvious that he'd been training a lot harder since you left - his shoulders and chest noticeably more defined than the last time you'd seen him. You'd never say it aloud given their relationship, but the older he got the more and more he seemed to resemble his dad.

"Bring your fan over here." He said, breaking your train of thought.

You nodded, staying light on your feet as you brought it over and aimed it at the window before reaching into the back of your dresser to grab an ashtray that you'd had stashed away since sophomore year. It was like no time had passed at all as you took a seat next to him again, setting the ashtray on your nightstand while he twirled the joint between his fingers.

You weren't sure why, but there was something about the way he brought it to his lips and flicked his lighter that created a dull ache at your center. Everything about him was so pretty and so nonchalant, effortlessly detached and infuriatingly nice to look at.

"Does your new boyfriend smoke?"

Your eyes instantly snapped to his, watching a plume of smoke trail felicitously from his mouth as he looked back at you. "Doesn't really look like the type who would." He added with a slight raise of his brow.

You didn't like anything about the question - from that fact that he had the audacity to ask it to his lethargic tone to the emphasis on the word "new", as if he was trying to imply that you'd been dating someone before you left.

You clicked your tongue to your cheek, letting out a huff as you snatched the joint from his lips. "You're insufferable." You repeated, drawing in a deep inhale.

The truth was, the boy you'd been seeing didn't smoke pot and you hadn't either since you'd started college, but there was no way you were admitting that to him. You took another hit, keeping your attention fixated on the window as your fan circulated the smoke out and pushed it into the night sky.

"I'll take that as a no." He whispered, his leg lightly nudging yours as he leaned over and plucked the joint from your fingers this time.

"Why are you here?" You finally asked, a sharp edge growing in your voice. "You were the one that quit talking to me, you know that right? You didn't even bother saying goodbye and then you just show up unannounced like nothing happened and ask me about my life and who I'm seeing and..." The weed was starting to hit you, your body suddenly heavy and your mind dizzy with a confusing mix of intoxication and irritation. "I just... Why? I mean, what's the point of any of this?"

A rare somber expression took over, softening his usual concrete features as he ran a hand over the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I don't know..." His gaze was glossy, his mind equally as hazy as yours. "I didn't know what to say when you left so I didn't say anything. It seemed easier that way, for both of us."

"But it wasn't –"

"I know." His demeanor was unexpectedly gentle despite how firm his tone was. "I'm sorry."

The room felt like it was spinning, his apology making something inside you ache. It was the first time in the three years you'd known him that he'd ever said it. That he'd ever actually admitted or acknowledged to hurting your feelings and even if the bar was in literal hell, it still felt good to hear those words finally leave his mouth.

"What else?" You pressed.

He took a moment to look you over, his eyes tentatively roaming along your face. “I missed you." He said honestly.

You'd never met anyone besides him who was capable of sounding so sincere and so indifferent at the same time.

"Missed your stupid laugh. Missed the way you'd always call me when you were drunk." He leaned in closer, his hand carefully taking the joint from yours as he set it on the ashtray and rested his palm on the back of your neck.

"Missed being in your room like this..." His voice dropped down to a low whisper, fanning lecherously across your skin. “Missed the feeling of you wrapped around me…”

“Megumi… we can’t…”

But you still let him close the already small gap between you anyway, his lips ghosting yours as you breathed him in. The familiar scent of false promises and expensive cologne flooding your senses.

"I know you.” He said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You wouldn’t have texted me back if you didn’t want to.”

"I –" His words were going straight to your center, the dull ache from earlier blossoming into an unignorable throb as his hand gradually trailed up your thigh. "I didn't –"

"Wouldn’t have posted that you were back in town if you didn’t want me to know…" His fingers were toying with the fabric of your shorts, methodically pushing them to the side. "Wouldn’t have left your window open if you wanted to be alone…”

Your ability to hold yourself together was threatening to buckle at any moment between the feeling of his grip tangling into your hair and his lips continuing to tortuously graze yours.

“And you definitely wouldn’t be this fucking wet if you really didn’t want me here…”

Your heart was slamming into your chest so hard you were almost afraid he'd hear it.

He kept his eyes locked with yours, watching the last bit of composure you had vanish entirely as he slipped past the thin barrier of your underwear and gained access to your weakest point.

Your movements betrayed your sentiment, a helpless whimper escaping you while your hips gravitated up towards his hand, practically begging for more.

"Look at you," he breathed, his middle finger drawing soft, heavenly circles between your thighs. "All that time without seeing each other and you still fall apart for me so easily. Why is that?"

Another heady little noise entered into the small space between you as you fought to keep your moans from getting any louder. You hadn't been this high in months. Your insides felt like they were on fire as he dipped down, just barely prodding at your entrance. But the more you tried to get from him, the more he pulled away. Unwilling to comply with your body's demands until you answered his question.

"Tell me." It was venom mixed with honey. Torment mixed with pleasure. He had you right where he wanted you - desperate and pining. Forced to give him what he wanted in exchange for what you needed. "Let me hear you fucking say it."

You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, doing everything you could not to whine when the tip of his finger gently slid into you and then stopped without warning - gracing you with just enough to finally bring you to your breaking point.

"I wanted to see you." you said breathlessly, your pupils widening as you felt him push slightly deeper.

"What else?" He taunted, using your words against you.

"I wanted you – here." You yelped, your voice splitting as he sank in further.

You were delirious, ready to actually plead if that's what it took to get him to cave. "I want – fuck, Megumi, please just –"

He was half-way in, teetering on the verge of letting you have it as long as you could get the next sentence out.

"Say it."

"I want you inside me." It poured out so fast, it was barely even coherent. "I want you inside of m...e – so fu–cking bad, please."

Your chest pressed against his in an urgent daze, pulling him closer while his lips met yours - neither one of you able to withstand the tension for a second longer. His movements matched your fervency as he added another finger, finally letting your walls swallow him.

He deepened the kiss, trying his best to keep you quiet while your hips rocked rhythmically against him.

"So pretty and pitiful" he whispered, lightly nipping at your collarbone. "You're already almost there. You sure you can handle me being inside you?"

You nodded hopelessly back at him.

"I can... take – it." You struggled, feeling him smirk into your neck as his thumb brushed against your clit, drawing out even poutier noises from you. "Promise."

"Prove it."

His tongue swirled lavishly into the softness of your clavicle, leaving little bruises in the shape of his mouth while his fingers continued to plunge innnn and out of you at the same heavenly pace.

"There you go." He breathed, promptly returning his lips back to yours as he felt your thighs begin to shake. "Just like that, don't fucking stop."

You hated how well he knew you. Hated how easily he was able make you clench and spasm around him. You were soaking his hand, burying your face into his shoulder to stop yourself from waking up the entire house.

"Oh, my fucking... god, Megumi –" Your nails dug into his back, your body nearly vibrating with pleasure as you grinded against him.

“It's okay, I've got you." He whispered, letting you cling onto him as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. You'd always been submissive, but he wasn't sure that he'd ever seen you quite this needy before.

He slowly pulled out of you, guiding you down to the bed before standing up to grab the joint out of the ashtray, lighting it one last time.

He leaned down, locking eyes with you while gently cupping your face. His lips just barely touching yours so that you were forced to share the same breath, allowing you to inhale the smoke he exhaled as he helped you out of your shorts.

"Such a good girl."

Your back arched, immediately wanting him back where he was as he got to his feet and set the spliff on your nightstand. You watched him intently, your core throbbing while he began to unbutton his pants. You were blissfully high, your mind swirling with sleepy infatuation and pent-up lust.

He almost seeming amused, noticing how entranced you were as his stripped out of his boxers. Tauntingly stroking himself while he used his free hand to push your both of your thighs onto the mattress so that you were on your back facing him with your legs folded to the side. You couldn’t help but smile as he rubbed his tip between your folds, letting out a low groan as he wetted himself with your slick.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you feel.”

Your hand tangled into the sheets, your body reeling from the way his tip was already stretching you.

"You gotta stay quiet for me." He reminded you, trying to heed his own advice as he slid in slightly further. “Pretty sure your dad will actually kill me if he catches me here again."

"So you want me to scream?" You smirked, but your sarcasm was quickly stolen from you.

He cocked an eyebrow at you before leaning back down, his voice becoming salacious static against your ear. "Don't make threats you can't keep."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your cunt pulsating as he put a hand over your mouth and thrusted into you.

He returned your smirk. Watching your pupils double in size as he nipped at your neck, muffling your moans with his palm.

"It's not easy for me either." He whispered - one hand still on your mouth, the other reaching for your center. "Being this deep in you and not being able to hear you say my name."

Your knuckles were almost white from how hard you were gripping the bed, your mind and body both completely overwhelmed by fucked-out euphoria.

"To have you wrapped this nice and tight around my cock without getting to hear all the cute little noises you make for me." He slammed into you, his rhythm blissfully unforgiving.

"You think that's what I want?"

You shook your head, his hand catching more carnal whimpers that were trying so hard to spill out of you as your hips bucked up against his.

The feeling of him playing with your clit while having you folded like this was almost too much to handle. You were lost - floating somewhere above cloud 9 with his thrusts only ascending you higher.

"What do you think I want to hear, baby? Hm?" His tone was condescendingly sweet. Mocking in a way that made your heart stutter and your walls contract. "Tell me."

He loosened his grasp on you, nearly bottoming out as his name echoed uncontrollably across the room. "Megumi ~” You whined again, completely forgetting your surroundings. "Megumi, fuck, you're gonna make me –"

Your climax laced through his fingers as his hand swiftly flew back over your mouth. His arms keeping you locked in place while your body writhed beneath his.

“There it is”, He praised, his tip kissing your cervix at just the right angle. “There’s my fucking – girl.” His head lolled back, his release following right behind yours.

He buried his head into your shoulder this time, letting out the most gorgeous, guttural sounds you'd ever heard as he filled you - not stopping until he could see his cum dripping out of you.

He pulled out carefully, taking a moment to admire his work while a mixture of fluids leaked onto your comforter.

“Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair before looking back at you. "Do me a favor when you get back."

You were still catching your breath, dizzy from overstimulation as you met his gaze. "What do you need?” You panted.

"Tell your new boyfriend I said 'thanks'."

You narrowed your eyes at him, watching a stupid smirk cut across his face while he slid his pants back on. “If he would've known how to fuck you right, I might not have gotten the chance to see you."

"You're insufferable."

"So I’ve been told."

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#rem writes #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jjk au #jjk smau #jjk fanfic #megumi fanfic #megumi smau #megumi angst #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #toxic!megumi #jujutsu kaisen smut

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imaginesmai · 8 months ago

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Your name on my body - modern!Azriel

Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!

Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!

Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.

Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.

The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.

Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.

The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.

Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.

“This way, princess”

His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.

“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”

“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”

“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”

Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.

As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.

They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.

But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.

“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.

“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.

“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”

You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.

On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.

His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.

Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”

“You don’t have to ask”

But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.

“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.

“I could, but I was busy with Mor”

“What were you doing with Mor?”

Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.

Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.

So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.

During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.

The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”

“I didn’t look at them”

“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.

The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.

It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.

“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.

“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”

“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.

“On my knees?”

You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.

In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.

Princess ♡

Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.

It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.

“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.

How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.

“Why did you get that?”

“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.

“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”

“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”

He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.

You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.

With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.

“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”

“Azzie, don’t be mean”

Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.

His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.

“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”

One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.

Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.

His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.

“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”

“That sounds clinically dangerous!”

Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.

When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.

He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.

“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second

“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

“Perfect”

You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.

It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.

Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.

Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.

“I want your name too. On me”

“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.

Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.

“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”

“You are mine”

None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.

His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.

Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.

“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.

“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”

Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.

Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.

“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”

Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.

The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.

Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes

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samthehyena · 5 months ago

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sam's togachako fic rec masterlist

So the tumblr thread with togachako recs from the other day inspired me to make this post that’s supposed to be a masterlist of my togachako recs. I’m sure I’ve forgotten to add some of the recs I’ve included in my ao3 author’s notes before LMAO. Also, I’m planning to update this list with any new togachako recs I want to add in the future. For now I'm only including completed fics.

1K-5K

A lovely fic with lyrical prose in which Himiko is Medusa and Ochako is her blind GF. It explores Himiko's profound grief over Jin and her relief of finally having human connection be attainable again.

A nice little fic from arguably one of the best femslash writers in that fandom. It checks off all the boxes for everything I could want out of a Togachako fic: a theme of acceptance, exploring what could have been in another life and SO MANY cute moments. Also, the ambiguous ending just feels so right.

A heartfelt bite-sized read that features Himiko and Ochako navigating life together and quirk prejudices in the aftermath of the war. It's so soft with references to spicy moments sprinkled in. (Who doesn't love Togachako and THE BITING?) It's just so sweet to see Himiko trying to grow beyond her past and having Ochako to rely on.

One of my fav Togachako smut one shots. It's so sweet and cute and I want to craddle it in my arms. I love how the story shows Himiko helping Ochako work through self-esteem issues - also, what's not to love about technically self-cest.

The university setting suits Togachako's dynamic really well. I love Himiko's pastel goth aesthetic and Ochako's initial animosity toward her strange lab partner before growing enamored.

I really enjoyed this soulmates AU one-shot since it tied in so well with how much Togachako loves each other despite the odds seemingly being against them. This story really is a testament to how there is no universe in which Ochako could possibly hate Himiko.

A super cute one-shot with a unique matchmaking setup! I was especially fond of the way Ochako’s gay panic was written and Himiko’s dialogue was incredibly fun to read. The parallels drawn between Himiko and Ochako in the fic are super compelling!

This is fluffy togachako established relationship oneshot has some gorgeous poetic prose that makes for an evocative read! It also just was such a soft vibe to it that makes this fic feel like a warm hug every time I read it.

I love this songfic so much!!! It utilizes a vignette style to hit some really poignant notes by giving glimpses it Himiko and Ochako’s past as childhood friends which is later contrasted by their reunion in the present day. The fic packs a punch with some excellent hurt/comfort.

This is some absolutely gut-wrenching hurt/comfort with parallels between togachako and dabihawks. I think it's one of the best togachako fics I've read in a while.

Actor AU togachako? YES PLEASE! The first fic I read in this fandom was an actor AU so I’ve always had a soft spot for this particular niche. Anyways, there’s a lot of cute moments in this and the pining is very strong in the best way possible. Also, the confession scene at the end is totally cute. There’s also some fun nods to krbk and excellent dialogue between Ochako and Katsuki.

I feel like I happen to be the EXACT target audience for this delightful cracky fic. It’s a humorous togachako chatfic (which is my jam) with some cheeky innuendo as well as some excellent and immersive HTML formatting. I also love how this fic provides both Ochako and Himiko’s POV to get the full picture :)

5K-15K

“Pleasing Our Infernal Princess” by intheeveningsunrise | 8.5K | Isekai | Scum Villain Fusion | Useless Lesbians

There is some excellent Ochako introspection and I like how genre-savvy this fic is. Himiko and Ochako’s relationship is also explored in a very fun way as Ochako tries to escape her predestined fate and Himiko manages to see Ochako for who she is at heart. Also, there’s some excellent platonic scenes between Ochako and Bakugo. As someone who hasn’t read scum villain I can vouch that this fic is an excellent read even if you aren’t familiar with SVSSS. In general, I highly recommend giving this a read if you love isekai/transmigration stories and femslash. There is also an incredibly fun twist at the end of this fic :)

An absolutely stellar role reversal fic that stays true to Ochako's and Himiko's characterizations as their lives take a very different trajectory. Ochako's desperation as she tries to fight against the metaphorical shackles tying her down and the pressure the HPSC puts on Himiko makes this story so engaging. This fic was the VERY FIRST togachako fic I ever read and to this day it holds up as one of my all-time favorites!!!!

While I have not read this fic yet (it’s been on my TBR for ages), my main enabler for all things femslash has been singing this fic’s highest praises. According to her, this is an excellent fic to read to get into the togachako ship since it hits many key tropes for the ships (e.g. Ochako’s sapphic internal panic) and strikes the perfect balance between being a meaty enough fic to thoroughly explore the ship while still remaining a one-shot. Also this fic has Greek mythology elements :3

Lowkey this might be one of the best togachako fics I’ve ever read and it still holds up really well with the current togachako landscape despite being written before the togachako manga chapters were dropped. It has an excellent characterization of Himiko and delves into the anxieties of starting over in a poignant way. Also the identity shenanigans and the way guilt festers as Himiko dances around the truth is very compelling. There are also moments of some super cute banter. And this fic is meaty enough to really get a taste of what makes togachako such a fun ship but is short enough to read in one sitting. An excellent first togachako fic to read if you want to get into the ship.

Greater than 15K

This is THE Togachako fic - if you haven't heard of it already, believe me if you mention this fic in a group of togachako enthusiasts, people will start gushing about it immediately. The villain/hero dynamic is so fun in this with a lot of excellent toxic Yuri tension - and OMG Ochako's characterization is great in this (there is this one flashback scene from her childhood that still lives rent-free in my mind XD). And there are so many good interpretations like Ochako's past relationships with Izuku and Tsu that just HIT. Also, the smut is EVERYTHING - I really want to go into details but I'll hold back because it's so much more fun if it's a surprise.

There are a million things I could say about this fic but I will try to keep it brief. This is a Revolutionary Girl Utena and MHA crossover that expertly explores themes of repression, gender, storytelling and what it means to be a hero. Taking advantage of MHA’s large cast, this fic not only does a fantastic job with togachako’s characterization but also does a great job of getting to the core of the side character’s motives and perception of the world. Also, the fic ticks so many quintessential togachako boxes (everything from Himiko being repressed to Ochako’s resilience and unconditional care for Himiko). AND THE FORMATTING OMG!!!!! This fic takes workskin shenanigans to the next level!!! I’m still thinking about the stroke of coding genius in the final chapter. Like y’all would not believe the amount of brainrot this fic induced. Anyways, as someone who has not watched Utena yet I can vouch that this fic reads well regardless of whether you have watched RGU or not :3

Some of my stuff

As the author I’m biased so no reviews here, just some togachako fics I’ve worked on that I like best and their descriptions.

The only reason Ochako signed up for a dating app was because Mina convinced her that making fun of people's profiles would be a fun way to pass the time. But soon enough she finds herself connecting with a girl under the pseudonym "Carmilla". Still, one looming question stops Ochako from labeling Carmilla as more than a friend: Who exactly is she in real life?

After fighting Himiko and bleeding out, Ochako finds herself reliving the same day of middle school over and over again. And she can’t quite piece together why that one ordinary day is worth repeating at all. Except for Himiko that day is anything but random – after all, it was the day she stabbed her middle school classmate as her mask finally slipped.

Is Himiko’s future really set in stone? Will Ochako be able to break the loop?

Only time will tell.

Years after the war, Ochako is desperately trying to move on from her grief for Toga with her new situationship. But it's so hard to keep things casual when Ochako's fling reminds her of Himiko in so many ways.

#togachako #himiko toga #ochako uraraka #fic rec #fic recs #i'm sure i can find even more recs in my bookmarks or a togachako server so feel free to reach out to me at any time #i don't bite :3 #i prefer it when togachako does the biting

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anistarrose · 7 months ago

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taz balance one-shot recs!

I've been meaning to make this post for a while now, so here we are! The majority of these are from the past three years or so, because I love a fandom classic as much as anyone, but I particularly want to shine a light on some gems from after the peak of traffic in the fandom tags! There are of course also exceptions that are older, though.

Also, April 19th-21st are Just Leave a Comment Fest, so please show these authors some love!! They're all so deserving!

a recipe for home by @journalofimprobablethings: Taako tries to cook for the first time since Glamour Springs. When things go awry, Lucretia is there to lend a hand.

Gen (Taako & Lucretia), 3.5k. Early B.O.B. era hurt/comfort centered around cooking, with a delicious dollop of sentimentality and dramatic irony on top.

Seven Times Magnus Burnsides Gave Someone A Hug + One Time He Received One by @barry-j-blupjeans: Magnus wasn't really any good at— at words. He was more of an action man. Or, y'know, a "I'll take this hit so you don't have to" man. Talking to someone about their feelings was all kinds of weird, so usually he just left the space for someone else to talk. And, well... Magnus wasn't good at words. But there's a few different ways to get his support across.

Mostly gen with some Magnulia, 8.6k. You've all heard of the classic 5 Plus 1, but obviously Magnus deserves a 7 Plus 1! I don't know how to describe it without spoilers other than being full of incredibly sweet, gentle takes on so many fraught or bittersweet moments. Super underrated, do give it a read.

Embrace the Dark by @ceilingfan5: Bookstore coworkers Kravitz and Taako get more than they bargained for when Taako tries to use his powers to fix Kravitz's migraine. But it's okay--it's an excuse for them to spend time together until one of them can nut up and ask the other out.

Taakitz, 8.9k. Modern with Superpowers AU! Super sweet interactions between Kravitz and Taako, paired with lots of fun background worldbuilding. And, of course, a very special grilled cheese sandwich.

Break This Heavy Chain by Punka_Writes: In the immediate aftermath of Story and Song, Barry Bluejeans could really use a hug.

Blupjeans and misc. platonic interactions, 2.3k. The absolute epitome of comfort food in written form, with excellent Barry characterization (and of course, he does get that hug)!

birds of a feather steal sweaters together by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: When you're a big, burly guy it seems that your clothes just become free reign for all your friends. Normally Magnus is a reasonable guy, but everyone has their limits.

Gen (IPRE crew), 1.9k. Starblaster era fluff! Everyone is written absolutely delightfully, and every time I read it I snort out loud at least twice.

Security by @ceilingfan5: Barry has finally made it--his incredible scientific discovery has landed him a huge fortune...and a lot of problems. The only good thing that's come of it, honestly, has been his bodyguard, Lup. (And the science. That's good also.) He's just gotta stay normal about how nice it is to have someone like Lup around, and also not perish by way of press circuit, and everything will be fine.

Blupjeans, 6k. Modern with magic AU from Barry's POV, featuring equal parts anxiety and pining. Also, it's straight-up extremely funny.

Lonesome Dreams by @jerreeeeeee: Taako wakes up one morning from a nightmare, fast fading. There was a guy in glasses, and they were… somewhere high up? Something terrible happened, but he doesn’t remember. He wakes up in a wagon he’s never seen before, but it has his name on it. There’s tons of food inside, more than he’d be able to afford. And he’s alone. Thinking back to the last thing he remembers is difficult. College? No, he’d graduated. Top of his class, obviously, he remembers that. But what- what happened after? Where is Lup?

Gen (Taako & Lup), 10.2k. Everything starts out the same, except Taako remembers Lup, even if not how she went missing, and it's incredibly underrated and full of phenomenal characterization. I won't spoil how things shake out, but it's a great emotional ride and I genuinely reread it all the time.

it's my party and I'll mope if I want to by @holdmecloser-gandydancer: Taako's birthday is just another Thursday. A detective and an old friend have a different idea.

Gen (Taako & Lucretia & Angus), 2.1k. Short and so sweet! Fics about voidfished!Taako's birthday never get old, and this is one of my absolute favorites. Nailing the angst-to-wholesome ratio.

Tedious Familiarity by @barry-j-blupjeans: Déjà vu. Noun. A feeling of having already experienced the present situation. A tedious familiarity. Barry Bluejeans woke up in a cave, fresh out of a pod filled with green goop, and saddled with an unsettling feeling that he had been here before. If you had asked forty-year-old Barry if he would follow instructions left by a talking coin, he probably would have asked you what type of drugs you were on. But, y’know, fifty… two? Fifty-one? How old was he? Fifty-two sounded right. But, y’know, fifty-two years old Barry didn’t really have that many other places to turn, so this couldn't be all that bad.

Gen, 4.1k. Missing scenes based off Barry's decade alone, written in such an effective style, where all the little details truly make it. Mandatory reading for fellow Barry angst enjoyers.

Angus McDonald and the Wonderland Escape Rooms by coppersunshine: When Angus gets grounded from detecting, to keep his skills sharp he becomes a patron of the Wonderland Escape rooms, run by Edward and Lydia, who quickly decide he's their new nemesis. To their surprise, Angus and the collection of weird adults he's accompanied by decide otherwise.

Gen (Angus & Edward & Lydia), 7k. Modern with magic AU, putting Edward and Lydia in the absolute funniest possible job, at which a little boy detective torments... and maybe, even gives them a chance to turn over a new leaf. I am of the opinion that Angus and the Wonderland twins have a criminally underexplored dynamic, and this fic gave me everything I wanted.

If the Sun and Moon Should Doubt by Punka_Writes: Merle Highchurch, on the brink of a bad decision.

Gen, 1.6k. Merle character study immediately before running out on his marriage. Truly the incredible characterization that Merle deserves; this was a fic that really ignited my love for him.

Greensleeves by @sgrumby: Kravitz has never seen a lich like this before, and he's seen a lot of liches. Merle is just trying to save the universe, thanks very much.

Gen (Kravitz & Merle), 2.2k. A unique and also absolutely genius Lich!Merle AU where Kravitz inevitably comes after him, and Merle is... well, the Peacemaker, of course!

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #fic rec #long post

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oidheadh-con-culainn · 7 months ago

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hello and welcome to the niche corner

hello i'm néide and this is my blog, which mostly consists of me being grumpy about niche things. i have multiple degrees in medieval irish literature and while sometimes i use these to be vaguely educational, more often i use them to write incredibly specific fic about characters nobody else cares about, and this fic can be found on ao3 (for logged-in users)

so this is a guide to my incredibly specific fanfiction, which i feel also gives a reasonably good introduction to the kind of thing i'm likely to be yelling about on this blog

i am reliably informed that you don't actually need to know anything about the source material to have fun with these fics (or suffer from the angst), but also they can be more fun if you do. some have bibliographies/refs/explanations so i also know a few people have used them as a way to get started with medieval Irish lit which will never not be extremely funny to me

current WIP: chasing someone else's dream (16k, WIP): a cú chulainn/láeg reincarnation fic. they have been reincarnated, not for the first time. they've also been cursed, and thus, unlike in every life before this one, they've never met. ngl this fic contains some of the best prose i ever wrote, please read it

group chats of the ulster cycle, or, the in loco parentis series

a modern AU of the ulster cycle. sort of a college AU, turned into a ballet AU halfway through. consists of:

in loco parentis (135k, complete): my magnum opus. cú chulainn and láeg are university flatmates; group chats featuring all your favourite ulster cycle characters and also some you probably never gave a shit about; cú chulainn as a tiny trans ballet dancer and ferdia as his pas de deux partner; baking; everybody hating on conchobar; nobody dies; way more feelings about both ballet and shostakovich than anybody was expecting, including me; and much more. comes with explanatory notes / bibliography because i'm just Like That

getting the dee (9k, in progress/abandoned): a prequel to ILP, sort of a longes mac nuislenn fic except nobody dies and there are more sex toys. naoise/deirdre with guest appearances from conall. one day i'll go back to this but also i'm a coward

valentáin's day (4k oneshot, complete): a prequel to ILP, featuring láeg and cormac in the pub on valentine's day making fun of all their friends in relationships. they make out, fortunately their friendship survives the experience.

and when you move, i move (2.5k oneshot, complete): a sequel to ILP. just a horny lil cú chulainn/ferdia oneshot set a few months after ILP wraps up.

miscellaneous ulster cycle oneshots

i will be honest, most of these are sad fics of oidheadh con culainn ("the death of cú chulainn") because i just love writing angst, but there's a couple of others in there

a moment's silence (3k): smutty cú/láeg fic set during táin bó cúailnge, inspired by this picture. the most explicit fic i've written

to walk this world alone (6k): extremely niche fic featuring láeg after cú chulainn's death. some otherworldly happenings. sad but not as sad as it was originally going to be.

counterweight (3k): cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. this one's pretty sad too.

dindsenchas (3.5k): missing scenes between cú chulainn and láeg during táin bó cúailnge. narrated by the landscape of ulster and addressed in second person to cú chulainn himself because the best sex scenes are the ones narrated by a tree.

in one dwelling place (2k): láeg/cú chulainn/emer. vaguely smutty, vaguely fluffy.

we'll say goodbye, today (2k): cú chulainn and láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. big sad hours.

glorious as the sunrise (3k): this is just angst. cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn again. not particularly shippy but they love each other very much.

a marriage of inconvenience (3k): modern AU. cú chulainn wants to marry emer but unfortunately never bothered to get divorced after he married láeg for househunting purposes. a very silly fic.

of grief and glory (1.7k): cú chulainn deals with the aftermath of táin bó cúailnge, especially fer diad's death. more sad times lol.

flight risk (2.3k): teenage cú chulainn and láeg steal a spaceship. they get caught. fun scifi AU.

other medieval lit fics (non ulster cycle)

patron saint of toasties (2.5k): finn cycle fic. oisín took time out of uni to travel and now all his friends have graduated and he's lonely enough to text the christian union's "text a toastie" hotline. which is how he meets patrick. very silly modern AU gen fic mostly taking the piss out of st patrick

two birds of a feather (2.8k): yonec (marie de france) | togail bruidne da derga crossover fic. bird dad support group. conaire and yonec hang out and bond over their dads having maybe been birds. stupidest thing i ever wrote and i adore it.

quiver and shake (1.8k): fourth branch of the mabinogi fic. gwydion and gilfaethwy's special brotherly bonding time. canon typical content warnings apply.

other

absent thee from felicity (11k, WIP): hamlet | romeo & juliet crossover modern AU in which horatio and benvolio attempt to deal with the aftermath of their respective tragedies. sad at first, will gradually get sillier. haven't updated in a couple of years but that doesn't mean it's permanently abandoned, i'm just busy

a guild doctor and an abolitionist walk into a bar (5.5k, complete): mortimer sark/daragh vernant (the butterfly assassin by finn longman). in which they become friends while coparenting their fucked up assassin child and pretending they're not doing that. blatant pro-mortimer propaganda tbh and i'm not sorry

if you've never read any of my fics before and are wondering where to start, i firmly believe the reincarnation fic (current WIP) is a good one because it has a solid mix of angst, shenanigans, and weird fuckery, so you can experience the tonal whiplash of the rest of my fics all in one place! but it is a WIP and i make zero promises about upload schedule, it happens when it happens, so not so good if you're impatient haha. plenty of others to get you started though

#my fic #medieval irish #ulster cycle

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helphelph · 6 months ago

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Rating pjo ships because I've seen a good amount of people doing it lately and it seems fun. But there's a twist!! I used the wackiest rating system imaginable because I'm insane. Have fun.

Percabeth: a hundred hearts out of five blue cookies.

Their dynamic is not only incredibly fun but also they complement each other very well. Honestly, when I first read the books, I didn't really want them to get together because I didn't want another "main guy gets main girl" situation, but they're honestly made for each other.

Jiper: five daggers out of ten great canyons

They were incredibly forced, but honestly not that bad of a ship. They were really cute but I dont have much to say about it.

Valgrace: fifty festus heads out of ten college aus

One of my favorite Jason ships ever. I love me some tragic gays.

Pipabeth: Two goddesses out of fifteen owls

I will ALWAYS support a good wlw ship. And Piper defo had a microcrush on Annabeth while they were on the Argo II. Plus the fanart of them is SO good.

Jercy/Person: twelve riptides out of ten horses

I like reading about it and it's quite fun to think about. Nothing much to say honestly.

Perachel: Ten prophecies out of nine pancakes drowned in syrup

They could have been cute. I dont really ship them though.

Annrachel(is that the name?): three prophecies out of five spiders

Korrasami vibes lmao. I think they're better off as friends but I will read a fanfic if I find an interesting one.

Solangelo: twenty-six skulls out of ten doctors notes

They were written for each other. As in Rick made sure that they were written for each other. I havent read tsats yet and im still on the first toa book so I don't have much on their dynamic. Still I like them and they visually look good together.

Valdangelo: ninety-four automatons out of six pomegranate seeds

They would have been unstoppable I tell you! Unstoppable!! Or maybe I'm biased. Either way they would have been an amazing couple together but Rick was too much of a coward to let them be (boy)friends. (Can you tell I'm biased?)

Jeyna: One bad father out of two older sisters.

UPDATE!!1!1!1 It has come to my attention that Reyna is canonically aroace with no romantic or sexual interest whatsoever so this ship is out of the window.

Jasico: 3/10

Personally I've never seen the hype for them. I like their dynamic a lot but not really in a shipping way. Sorry pjotumblr😔

Pernico: One bathe in the river styx out of thirteen hades figurines

The angst of Nico having a crush in Percy is a good concept to explore. Both in relationships with other characters and Nico's character development. But them being in a relationship together just irks me. It's not entirely problematic(at least i dont think it is? Correct me if im wrong), but still, the age gap makes me uncomfortable.

Ruegard: thirty-seven drakons out of one patrochilles parallel

Like I said, I love me some wlw ships. And while I've never really been a diehard fan of them, the fanart is amazing, so of course i ship them.

Frazel: 6/10

Rick try to make a girl and a boy stay friends challenge(impossible). But jokes aside, the 13-16 gap makes me annoyed. Three years isn't much but it matters in this situation. And it annoys me bacuse I want to like them. They have a cute dynamic but the maturity gap between them kinda gets in the way. That said, I would probably have liked them a lot better if they just stayed friends.

Valzhang: Nine eagles out of twenty hidden bunkers

Like I said before, I will consume almost every ship in a fandom. And if I find good fanfics of them, I will read it because I like exploring different characters' dynamics with each other. It's fun and I honestly think the pjo fandom should chill out a little. The amount of people who put others down for shipping something that isn't canon is way too much. Just let people enjoy their ships.

I think that's all? I didn't include Grover and Juniper because I honestly don't really have any opinions on them. They just exist and it's kinda like Rick just made them canon because he didn't want grover to feel left out. Let me know if there's other ships you'd want me to rate!

#valdangelo #percabeth #percy jackson #pipabeth #perachel #valgrace #jiper #jeyna #valzhang #frazel #jercy #solangelo #jasico #shipping #rating ships

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kdyism · 2 years ago

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STUPID CUPID.

pairing. haechan x reader

genre + themes. friends-to-lovers, fluff, smidge of angst, christmas-themed, college!au.

wc. 5,342 / warning. christmas, mention of kissing, being drunk, dumb decisions, mistletoes.

synopsis. after being victim to jaemin’s cupid-ing last christmas, lee donghyuck has to figure out whether he wants to give up on you or go for it while risking the comfort of your friendship because he think you don’t remember last christmas.

secret santa hosted by @neowritingsnet for @kthpurplesyou | hi bee! it’s me santa watermelon aka yunan <3 hoping i was mysterious enough and you are shocked, i hope this fic is to your liking! i switched writing between morning and night so it took longer, i wanted to drop it on dec 20 so that you’d have time before celebrations in case you do. crossing my fingers and sending this out to you, bee, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 💞💖💓

yunn says hohoho likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated, i hope everyone else enjoys this quick fic!

Lee Donghyuck is known for his infectious personality. He can leave a mark of his existence within a few seconds, he knows way too many people and most people would just think he is someone with too much free time on his hands.

“Did you get a name from the box?” unfolding his paper while maintaining a neutral expression, he sits in his usual seat and you bite down on your lips, eyes sparkling as soon as your eyes fall on the unfolded paper in your hand. “Let me guess?” narrowing his eyes, he hums. “...Taeyong,”

Gasping quietly, you nod chaotically and show him the name. “How’d you know?” you ask, a smile crawling onto your cheeks and you twist in his direction, your eyes looking directly behind him.

“When you see someone’s face as much as I've seen yours…” Donghyuck pursues his lips, “I would be an idiot not to know,”

Rolling your eyes at him, you dismiss his comment and continue with your preying. “How’s your schedule for this month?” you inquire, slipping your phone out of your pocket and suddenly, you look determined and shift your eyes back to him. “God, are you that happy?” he churns his face, watching your shake excitedly and your lips barely holding down a grin.

You gush in response, “Of course! You know I want his number,” skipping away from him, all he could do was sigh.

Waving you off, Donghyuck tries to hide his disappointment; unsure whether it was directed towards his paper or because of yours. Lee Taeyong, your most recent crush-ish, is a post-grad whose taking the same course as you for the same reason, extra credit. Donghyuck is already familiar with your boy of the week kind of crush-ishes—it’s not quite a crush, more like surface-level infatuation but if he didn’t know you any better, that’s what he would’ve thought.

However, it has never bothered him. Not until a stupid thing happened last Christmas.

Last Christmas changed everything, no warning or heads-up was given. He still remembers the night, unlike most nights at parties. He was sobered up, mind buzzing with all kinds of things until he was finally asleep on your sofa at almost 4 AM. He blames Na Jaemin for what happened, from his needless matchmaking to his punch-worthy grin, everyone knows that Na Jaemin’s favourite hobby is playing Cupid, going to all sorts of lengths to get his couple of the month to date. Hell, Donghyuck has actively participated in the talking up of girls, spreading rumours and finally, getting the ‘Characters’ to go on their first date.

It was funny and oddly satisfying when they do end up dating, Donghyuck for one wasn’t one to interrupt the fun. Not when he was directly getting the kick out of it. Except, he realized, it’s not very fun when the character line-up had his name written in the main leads.

hyuck💞: im booked all month

hyuck💞: why???? did you have something in mind???

“I hate him.” you declare breaking the silence that he embraced, “He said, ‘Uhhh I don’t know you…’ and left! Ugh, I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think what? That he would be a normal person and be cautious when a sophomore is asking for his number?” he cuts you off snarkily and you drop your jaws, putting your hands on his shoulder and asking, “And why would he be cautious?”

Cupping your cheeks with a smile, Donghyuck says, “One, you are not me.” raising his brows, you wanted to flick him but you let him continue. “Two, don’t you remember someone leaking Sehun—whose also from post-grad— his number was just spreading like disease between group chats, of course, they’d be more careful,”

Letting out an “Oh”, you pout, slumping weakly as you understand his reason. “Are they friends?” you wonder, Oh Sehun was also hot if your memory serves you well but he rejected you without hesitation and then you killed his memory along with your fascination with him.

“Yeah—we don’t really have that many post-grads,” releasing your cheeks, your face falls before you pull yourself up and you click your tongue at him and he shakes his head.

Donghyuck’s reasoning always changes your mind, he was the reason you were even in the social club, to begin with. He was friends with everyone, always making plans with everyone and you’d barely ever see him if not for your meticulous planning to match your schedule with him since you were naturally more free than he was with both his part-time and his “Hey, whose name did you get?” you ask, remembering that he was friends with Lee Taeyong as well.

“Why would I tell you?” he glares at you, backing away and immediately guesses, “I am not going shopping with you,”

Slapping your hand over your mouth, “How’d you know?” you splurt, your hands dancing in the air trying to show him your surprise. “Yeah, you’re obvious,”

Donghyuck could easily predict what was going on in your mind, not always but usually he could. From his second month of being your friend, he already knew that you thrived on being nosy. The way you made friends with people by letting them complain about their problems to having new crushes on every new person who you saw for the first time—there might be just one reason why Donghyuck would like some distance between the two of you.

“You know mine, why can’t I know yours?” you ask not looking away from him while he packs the study material he already knew you were going to ask that, so he scoffs wearing a smirk. “It’s supposed to be secret santa, not un-secret santa. Now,” he pauses, waiting for you to stand up again and he begins walking out of the hall as you follow closely beside him, mumbling, “That’s unfair…”

“To the cafeteria?” you ask and he nods.

“Yeah. so, I wanted to say but you keep shutting me up—Anyways, I am not going to see you until the Christmas party at Mark’s,” Donghyuck stops as soon as the elevator sounds, “I am blocking you and going on a detox,” stepping into the elevator, he leaves you behind stunned.

Just as the doors slide back, he smiles while saying, “I don’t wanna see your face anywhere near me, okay?”

To hyuck💞: you cant do this you hurt me 🤕🤕

To hyuck💞: im sorry what did i doooo??

To hyuck💞: unblock me plsssss 🙏🙏🙏

To hyuck💞: what will i do without you??? i need you bro

Message failed to send

There aren’t many nights where he quietly stays in his room, ignoring your text and pressing block on you. There have been times like tonight when the heart beating in his chest feels more painful than usual. He has never been the type to cry through the night. The ceiling of his bedroom is comforting, the mould collecting in the corners every winter, reminding him of his chores, and normally, he'd be on his phone scrolling mindlessly through social media and thinking about how he was going to be a better person tomorrow than today. Usually, they happen a lot later than 10 PM and only after he has spent his day with you already.

For one, he’s glad that no one could tell of his awful crush on you.

Christmas has always been easy, it's been pleasant, and unlike most seasons; the holiday season always gets him in the mood for a big gathering, cosying up with his friends and just enjoying their presence without having to mess around and it also makes him less of a troublemaker. He doesn’t follow Yangyang to the skating rink nor does he annoy Renjun in the library and he also leaves Mark to do his good thing of the day without bothering him about that club that opened a block away from college. He was even fine with you telling him that you’d be going out.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He was fine.

Until Last Christmas happened.

“I’m coming in!” Jaemin’s voice brings him back to his room and he sits up, sighing heavily. “Are you staying home tonight?” he asks as soon as the boy enters the room wearing his strawberry-patterned apron that a junior of his gifted him.

“Jeno has a project so he’s staying with his group at the library—I have been left behind,”

Rooming with Jaemin was a last-minute decision, when his dorm lease was up he was going to resign it, however, after your fingers held his hands this spring, shaking with excitement and your lips stretched in a smile, reminding him that you only lived ten minutes away from Jaemin. Before he knew it, he was signing a new contract with Jaemin who couldn't hide his mischievous eyes for him.

"Did you block Y/N?" Jaemin sits on the swivel chair in front of his computer, casually pulling the cord of his wired mouse. "I sent her back home saying you weren't here just now,"

"She came here?" Donghyuck bursts, eyes wide and Jaemin laughs, "Of course not."

Groaning, Donghyuck throws his head back in defeat. "This is all your fault. If I didn't kiss her at that party we wouldn't be going through this," he grumbles, closing his eyes and flashes of last Christmas pass by.

It was picturesque, so perfect and the heat of his lips on yours—he would've never guessed that you'd taste like wine.

You hate wine.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, dismissing the accusation. "It's not my fault you have a superiority complex about knowing where all the mistletoes are,"

Offended by that, Donghyuck gets off his bed and stares down at the boy who continues to grab his copy of the Forza Horizon 4 and strut back to the door. "You hang it up there knowing full well that me and Y/N always take that spot," Donghyuck said and he receives a loud hah from his friend who pulls the door open.

Jaemin looks him straight in the eye, his characteristic sweet smile on his face and he said, "Maybe you should've just been a big boy and kissed me instead,"

And well, he wasn't wrong, so Donghyuck resorts to slamming his face into his pillow and raging at it, screaming while swinging his legs recklessly until his shin stabs against his bed frame and gives him genuine reason to scream out. God, if you were here, you'd have a look of worry painted all over your face while you still laughed at his pain and to be honest, Donghyuck thought you would look nice against the background of his room.

Turning to lie on his stomach, Donghyuck wiggles in his bed to get comfortably under his sheets, and he unlocks his phone, your image glowing on the screen. He has an album full of just you. You love sending him pictures of yourself, outfit of the day, and once in a while, when you look really nice, you'll send him a decent picture that he would lose his mind about but all he responds with is an emoji, the one with two eyes looking sideways.

Gulping down frustratedly, he clicks off his gallery, and suddenly, his screen cuts with notifications.

leemark: u helping on 23?

leemark: please?? jisung broke his arm u know he can't help me now

leemark sent a sticker

you: you owe me one

Working graveyard hours, twelve-to-four, has its unexpected silver lining. Most people are asleep during this time and anyone awake usually just want to get home, aside from the hooligans who mind their own business if you mind your own because of the cameras placed inside the convenience store and the patrol team in the area from two-till-six because of recent crime level increase in the area. To Donghyuck, it was perfect for a decent-paying, low-effort job.

The one downside of this is, you live super close to Jaemin and share the same convenience store as them. Of course, he'd see you if you decided to visit the store at this time.

Donghyuck didn't think of you as someone hot before, casual dating was not his mind when it came to you and you were always busy being interested in whoever is new. Maybe you liked the unfamiliarity of them, the fact you didn't see them for consecutive weeks before they suddenly appeared in front of you, unlike the two of them, Donghyuck has been in your life consistently for the past two years and this year, something changed.

The pulsing of his heart, when the store's automated doors slide open and your familiar pyjama hoodie comes into his view, the way his lungs forget to breathe and he can't tear his eyes off of you until you make your way up to the counter with your BBQ pringles and cola on the side. "When are you gonna unblock me?" even your voice is so sweet now, his brain shooting fuzzy chemicals inside him and butterflies making his knees go weak.

Donghyuck doesn't want to like you.

"You know the schedule, wait until the party," scanning the codes of your items and billing you up, he takes your exact change, sliding your snacks to you.

"Can't you give me a reason? What did I do?" you ask, stuffing your snacks into your hoodie’s pocket and Donghyuck groans, you didn't plan on leaving, he could tell. "You saw my text and didn't reply, you could've just replied then—"

"That's just stupid, I blocked you as soon as I remembered I said I would," he argued back, clicking his tongue at your exasperated expression.

Giving up on that point, "Nevermind that then, just give me a reason then," you said, Donghyuck grumbling internally and you stare at him, waiting for a reply.

"Didn't I tell you I wanted a detox?"

Waving him off, you glare at him and ask again, "Am I toxic? To make you need a detox from me?" your eyes tingle, the heat making its way up to your neck and you mentally curse, you've never been able to argue without feeling the urge to cry.

"That's not what I mean by detox. I just need some time from you, my life is a mess right now you are at the centre of it," Donghyuck explains, his hands automatically holding your face and rubbing away the tears that brim in your eyes. "I don't mean to make you cry—with all the time away from me, you can go and try to snag Taeyong! Come on, you have a life without me in it too," he adds, his voice softer and fingers gently crease your cheeks, earning a pout from you.

You spit, "What's that supposed to mean?" you take his hands away from your face and wrap your fingers in his, "Taeyong isn't you, no one is you. You are not replaceable for me,"

Tears bubbling up again, Donghyuck shushes you and he doesn't want to feel this way; his chest clogs up and renders him breathless in front of you, and he feels guilty. "Hey, hey, come on don't cry," he frets, his fingers wiping away the tears and settling on your shoulders. If only the counter wasn't in between you, he knows for sure he'd have hugged you and given up already.

"You know, your touch always makes me not cry," you laugh, remembering the time when you almost broke down in class after getting an F and being required to repeat a course the next semester. He held your hand the entire two hours of the lecture and even stayed with you until you were back home. You didn't even know him too well back then.

It made your heart kinda race for him but the comfort of your growing friendship with him felt too precious.

"That's because you are like a baby, holding you will make you calm down," he exposes you, rolling his eyes as if it were an obvious truth and you scoff, "Just how many people do you think hold my face like I'm a chipmunk?" killing the mood, Donghyuck sighs, "Well, at least you are okay now,"

"Unblock me now," you said, regaining your reason once you've calmed down and he shakes his head without hesitation, suddenly regaining his previous determination. "Yeah, no."

A Y/N-detox isn't feasible if he thought about it, not when you've carefully matched your schedule to his because he is always working or has appointments with other friends, you work at the cafe down the fast food cabin he works at, take the same bus home as him and worst of all, you both share the same friend groups because of how much time you spend together as a collective.

"Do you guys like, hate me or something?" Donghyuck deadpans, slumping into the seat you were previously sitting at.

"You hate yourself," Renjun quips, his eyes not leaving his book and Yangyang nods in agreement while adding, "You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell us you didn't like her anymore? We would've not invited her,"

"We could've also made a group without you in it," Mark said, resting his head on the wall and dozing away. He had finished a shift and was supposed to work one more shift today because his junior broke his arm but thank the heavens, Donghyuck said okay and is covering the shift. Too guilty to go home, Mark has resorted to staying around until the end of the shift anyway.

Mark, unlike Jaemin, was Donghyuck’s only refuge. The one person who knew about his crush and the one person who told him, hey, she might like you. "Dude, just go home," he says, shaking Mark's shoulder and Renjun sighs.

Renjun says, "I tried already, he is just being stubborn," closing his book once he bookmarks it and crossing his arms on the table. "Now, you need to tell us what happened,"

Renjun has always been perceptive of his mood, always keeping up with the latest drama and the main provider of information to Jaemin's cupid hustle. Romance was just his forte. Donghyuck, though, was too scared to ask him his opinion on it in case he told him to just give up—as if he wasn't already trying in his own way.

"Promise me you won't laugh," Donghyuck gulps and Yangyang grunts loudly, "Dude, miss me with the suspense—We swear, now what happened?"

Inhaling, he blinks away into the distance. "I might be in love with Y/N and I am so ashamed to come out with it. I know it's stupid but you guys know how we are, it's always us together, Donghyuck and Y/N, we're friends.

Shit, I even blocked her to get over her but it's not working—I dreamt of her last night and it was so embarrassing to see her today,"

"Dreamt of her… like… like that?" Yangyang asks, his fists covering his dropped jaw and Donghyuck's face burns up at the suggestion but he doesn't deny it, much to Renjun's disgust, he gags and says, "Please don't give us the details,"

"She's been going insane on her own and constantly going on about you—this must be why." Mark nods as if a bigger picture was drawn in his head, he grins and goes on, "Jaemin wasn't joking when he said you liked her last Christmas. I didn't think the mistletoe trick would work,"

Gasping at him, "You knew!" Donghyuck points at him in accusation and grabs his collar, "That kiss messed up our relationship!"

Yangyang breaks them up, grinning at Donghyuck sleazily, and he says, "Dude, tomorrow's party, just fix it. There's nothing to lose—I can't believe you've dragged this on for a year, how adorable."

Two weeks without Donghyuck and you are but a shell of yourself.

It was so easy getting used to life with him, he came in and went out so nonchalantly. You hadn't realized how involved he was in your life until he was gone from your daily transit, he was gone from your walks home, he was gone from his shift at the convenience store and not a single text you sent him went through. No, your life didn't revolve around him but you include him in everything because, Donghyuck will think this is funny, you need to tell him about the stupid fight that happened in the café and Donghyuck will look good with this, you need to take him shopping with you.

Shit, you sent him a picture of random things that made you think of him.

There was only once that you thought you liked him, and you shot that down as soon as he said he liked a girl in his social club—you even joined the club for him, how could he like someone else… you gave up as soon as your heart latched on and to be honest, you were okay with that because well, he was still the closest person to you.

You didn't need the kisses to feel loved. His gentle hands creasing your cheeks habitually and his warm hugs because he feels like it, they made you feel loved. The way he makes time to see you in his busy schedule, you know he leaves hours in his day because you'll ask him for time, which makes you feel loved as well.

It didn't make sense for him to suddenly shut you out, not when he was leaving all these signs, he didn't do any of these with anyone else—last Christmas meant something to him.

You just knew it did.

"Have you guys seen Donghyuck?" you ask, holding your red cup of punch barely full and your head feeling dizzy.

Pointing towards a corner, "I THINK HE WAS WITH MARK," Yangyang screams at the top of his lungs, the earmuffs doing their work to shut out even his loudness.

Lee Mark throws the most exciting Christmas parties every year in his apartment building in collaboration with his neighbours. The shared pool and backyard were completely theirs to use, Mark would normally hang up mistletoes in the spaces between his apartment and everywhere else. The kissing begins as soon as you want to leave his front door anywhere else. And you never leave his apartment, so you never had to deal with the plant.

That wasn't the case last year, someone had hung up mistletoes inside the apartment and exactly at the spot you and Donghyuck always beeline to, that's where everything changed for him and out of nowhere, you had to be the one acting normal because he wasn't.

Stumbling your way into the living room, it wasn't too crowded in here and it usually only had Mark's closest friends loitering around. Your eyes immediately find Donghyuck, laughing loudly and he leaves his beanbag, and almost instinctively, you plop down on it as soon as you near it.

Fading out of consciousness, "Who said you could sit there?" he whined, his eyes half-lid as he grabbed your hand and you shot up, your head feeling clearer now.

You always steal his seat when he leaves to get a refill. "I was just keeping it warm. You don't have to yell," you said, jutting your lips out. Your cheeks painted in a flushing colour, Donghyuck guessed that you already had your share of drinks and made a mental note to leave the party soon because he was your ride home. Not that he'll be driving but even walking you home is considered a ride.

Well, maybe not this time because you guys didn't come together.

Letting go of your arm, you fall back onto the beanbag, and he gives you puppy eyes. "I wasn't yelling," Donghyuck grumbles, getting shoved to the side by someone and he turns to face them.

"Are you okay?" Jaemin asks, his lips almost meeting his eyes in a wide grin, and Donghyuck immediately has his guard up, feeling a wave of deja vu.

"You look tipsy, aren't you gonna go home?" Pressing his hand on your forehead, Jaemin looks towards the ceiling above you and smirks. "Oh, look here, guys," he gasps loudly. However, Donghyuck could hear the pretentiousness of it.

Donghyuck followed his gaze with narrowed eyes, right above him, wretched mistletoes greeted him in the dimly lit corner of the room immediately releasing a groan. "Ugh, not again!" Donghyuck cries.

Scoffing at Jaemin, he rolls his eyes. "What? You wanna kiss me this time?" he asks in a mean tone, and Jaemin giggled, moving away from the spot while saying, "Of course, not," Donghyuck felt his blood boil, if Jaemin was a cupid, then maybe that song about a stupid cupid was right.

Clearly, his arrows were faulty this time.

Last time, it didn't cross his mind that someone else would be hanging up mistletoes, Mark never hung them up in the corners of the rooms and especially not inside Mark's apartment because he was scared someone would make out on his sacred sofa or worse, inside his toilet. But he learnt his lesson, Na Jaemin goes to extreme lengths to pair up his couples after all.

You then ask, "Then—Are we going to kiss?" your eyes look curiously at him as you pointed at the plant. "It's you and me under it now,"

And from that point, it's never been the same. The last time, he kissed your lips, it was stupid. You were drunk and said okay for the fun of it, Donghyuck could only hope neither of you remember it.

But when his lips lightly brushed on yours, and he realized that tomorrow morning you'll be back to normal, your memory in fragments and he remembers it clearly, the regret that washed over him the next morning when he opened his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom, the horror that clung to him when his phone was bombarded by his friends curious about how he felt now that he had kissed you.

He was in denial for a whole year.

Once more, "Are we going to kiss again," you ask, your fingers pulling his shirt, you bring him back to the present and guide him down towards you.

Donghyuck's knees go weak, and he falls onto the floor with his breath caught. This time, you are the one taking the lead. "You remember," he breathes out, looking away from you and you give him a tight-lipped look. "Yeah, I never forgot it," you said.

"Why'd you never say anything, I am so sorry about the kiss—" Donghyuck immediately says and you cut him off, —"I didn't say anything because I didn't mind, I actually liked it and I thought you did too because you kissed me twice…"

Perhaps it was the lighting in the room. Donghyuck never thought you looked hot but he did always think you were beautiful, but today, the lipstick you wore made him want to go crazy. "Don't you like Taeyong now?" he just had to ask to be sure and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you said, "You know my fascination with all my crush-ishes dies after I talk to them,"

"But you were so excited for the secret santa," "That's because it's gift giving and that's fun,"

Donghyuck didn't get your name, so he thought you weren't meant to be. No matter how stupid he thinks that idea is now, he still thought it was fate that you got Taeyong's name when you liked him. "I thought you were going to cut me off this Christmas to spend it with him, that's why I came up with the detox… to give you time away from me and me time away from you,"

Biting down a smile, you place a peck on his lips. "Have I ever gone on a date with anyone since you've known me?" you tease, and he immediately says, "Yeah, Yangyang. The two of you go on skate rink dates all the time, I see you guys,"

"That's just you being picky—you don't know how to skate so, of course, I go there with him and not you," flicking his forehead, you click your tongue and went on, "Plus, you always come along anyway,"

"Because I come along, it's not a date anymore,"

"Wow, genius," you giggle, rolling your eyes and Donghyuck sighs into your side, he thinks, his arms are allowed to go around your waist now and he's allowed to keep staring into your eyes.

Your eyes don't leave him either, the thumping bass of the background blending in with the sound of your heart skipping beats and your toes curl, butterflies choking your breath when you say, "Hey, there's a mistletoe here—can't you just kiss me already?"

Dipping his head down, his lips catching yours and this time, you taste like berry punch, your favourite and his hands cradle your face, he still isn't sure if this is the right way to go with you but when your lips synchronise with his, moving softly against his with your hands desperately clinging onto his shoulders.

It took him a mistletoe and a whole year to realize his feeling about you, so maybe, cupid wasn't the only stupid one, he was stupid too. You've been right in front of each other and yet, "Does this mean you like like me?" you ask against his lips.

Smiling, "Just how many people do you think I block?" Donghyuck lets his head rest on your shoulder, the rest of his body going limp as well on the floor, and you pat his back. "Are we together now? Next Christmas, will I be your boyfriend?" he asks weakly, and you nod. Although he couldn't see you, he could tell there was a smile on your face.

"Oh, by the way, do you know who put this in here? Mark doesn't put mistletoes inside his apartment right?" curiously, you point at the plant on top of you and he grumbles, "Na Jaemin," tightening his grip on you. Donghyuck thinks he should give his thanks to Jaemin too because, without him, none of this would've happened.

"Aah, now it makes sense why he came here last year—doesn't he always stay at the pool area with Jeno and that Junior of theirs?"

Nodding, Donghyuck says, "Yeah. He even came up this time too," mentally deciding to spare him this time.

And you giggle, cheerfully saying, "We should thank him, he is kinda like our cupid if you think about it. It goes well with his reputation on campus," the sound of your humming makes him smile, agreeing with you, "Huh, you think so?"

BONUS:

Beknownst to both of you, starting next semester Na Jaemin’s position as campus cupid was solidified using a picture he took once the two of you knocked out in the corner of Mark’s living; Donghyuck’s head nestling on your stomach and your head tilted upwards in a way that looked like it hurt—His greatest masterpiece he said, showing the photo and relying on the great love story until “How come none of you tell me about this?” Donghyuck accuses his friends, shifting his weight to one side and scoffing indignantly.

Yangyang shrugs, “It’s funny. And you guys look cute anyways, what are you mad about?” he asks, his face genuinely looking confused, which makes Donghyuck click his tongue, and Mark asks, “Are you mad we didn’t share the photo with you?” his eyes narrowed, hoping his guess was right.

“How’d you know!” you clap, nodding your head. “Hyuck changed his wallpaper as soon as he got the picture,”

“How did it take this long to find out, though?” Renjun asks, “You’re friends with everyone on campus. It's unbelievable it took you this long,”

#neosecretsanta #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct haechan x reader

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foundtherightwords · 23 days ago

Text

This Is the Sound of Your Voice

Pairing: Hellcheer (College AU)

Summary: After breaking up with her high school boyfriend and moving away to the big city, Chrissy is still trying to find herself. When her roommate Nancy sets her up on a blind date, she accepts, even though the guy - someone called Eddie - sounds nothing like her type. But then she meets Eddie and realizes he's not what she thought he'd be like at all.

Warnings: implied eating disorder, stalking

Word count: 7.6k

A/N: Written for Day 1 of Hellcheer Week 2024, with the prompts "instalove", "vampire", and "kiss". To be honest, I had the idea before I saw the prompts, and this is the best I could do to fit the prompts into it. I've never written from word prompts before so I don't know if I succeeded here (and I think I'm incapable of writing instalove anyway), but I had fun trying.

It's a No Upside Down AU (obviously) but I kept the time setting, so it takes place around 1989-1990.

The title is a song by Snow Patrol.

Looking into the mirror, Chrissy fussed with her bangs for the thousandth time. Despite her efforts, they were still infuriatingly flat. With a frustrated huff, she gave up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. It would have to do. After all, this wasn't such a big important date that she had to dress up for it. Well, important, maybe. First dates often are important, aren't they? But definitely not big.

Or at least that was what she kept telling herself, to drown out the nervous feeling rising from the pit of her stomach and spreading through her limbs, making her cold and shaky. So pathetic. One would think she was some little girl going out with a boy for the first time ever. Admittedly, it had been such a long since she'd been on a date, so it might as well be the first time.

Chrissy didn't remember much of her first-ever date, only that it was at the mall with some gawky boy in middle school. She hadn't been serious about boys then, and her mother didn't want her to start dating so early, so Chrissy hadn't even realized it was a date until later.

Her first date with Jason, though... that Chrissy remembered very well. It was nothing special, just going to the movies—they'd wanted to see Fast Times at Ridgemont High, only they weren't allowed in, being high school freshmen, so Jason had suggested they settle for E.T. instead—but she remembered being so giddy about the idea of going on a date with the cutest boy in school, so pleased that he'd asked her out, that she'd hardly taken in the movie at all. Afterward, they had walked home together and he'd given her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, and she'd floated to her room on a cloud. How innocent she'd been then, thinking that this was it, and they would get married and live happily ever after...

Except it had been nothing but a childish dream, and when she'd gotten a chance to make that white-picket-fence dream come true, Chrissy had balked at it. When Jason got down on one knee during their anniversary dinner and pulled the velvet box out of his pocket, what had risen within Chrissy wasn't the giddiness and excitement she'd felt when he'd first asked her out. No, it had been surprise first, and then dread. In the five years they had been dating, she had changed so much, corroded by the pressure to be perfect from her mother, her teachers, her friends, and, yes, from Jason as well, until nothing remained of that bright-eyed fourteen-year-old. Perhaps that girl had never existed at all, and this was who she really was, someone who was afraid of everything, afraid of every cheer routine, of every report card, of every trip to the fitting room, of every bite of food, afraid of messing up and ruining her life.

Some of that dread must have shown on her face, because Jason had been quick to reassure her that this didn't mean they had to get married right away. No, the wedding could wait until they graduated from college, he'd said, as if that made it any better. When Chrissy tried to protest that it was still too soon and that they hadn't done anything with their lives, Jason had laughed and asked, rather dismissively, "What else is there to do?"

It was that laugh, so lighthearted, so condescending, that finally convinced Chrissy. Jason clearly didn't take her seriously. He couldn't fathom that she would want do anything other than get married and pop out babies. It was then that she realized there was no convincing him to wait a little longer, no explaining to him that she didn't want to end up like her mother, being a housewife with no control over her own life, so she tried to control her kids' instead.

Her whole life, Chrissy had been saying "yes". Yes when her mother told her to eat this and not that, to wear this and not that. Yes when her advisor told her to take this class and not that class, to focus on cheer practices rather than her academic performance. Yes when Jason told her they were going here and not there.

But that night, in that crowded restaurant, while people around them ooh-and-aahed at this display of young love, she had found her strength to say "no", for the first time in her life.

Jason hadn't taken that well.

As the people in the restaurant fell quiet and awkwardly turned away from the spectacle, Jason had laughed and insisted that she was joking, or perhaps it had been too sudden and she didn't know what to say. Then, when Chrissy assured him that she was serious, the smile had faded from his handsome face. A cold look of anger had come into his eyes, chilling Chrissy to the bones. It was gone in a second, to be replaced by a look of utter shock and heartbreak that nearly broke her own heart. She'd almost told him that perhaps they could wait a few more years, until they graduated perhaps, to see where they were, but deep down inside, she knew that there was no more waiting. Still, it was hard, seeing how much she'd hurt him.

Jason certainly had no intention of making the breakup easy for her. In the following weeks, he showed up at her classes—the simplest thing, when they went to the same college—and at her house, bearing flowers and gifts and tearful apologies, trying to get her to change her mind. He had almost convinced Chrissy that she was making the worst mistake of her life. But every time she came close to getting back with him, she would see that split-second look of rage again. In the end, it was the memory of her fear that had convinced Chrissy she was doing the right thing.

If it had been difficult facing Jason's heartbreak, then it was a thousand times more difficult facing her mother's wrath. Laura wasn't used to her daughter fighting back and voicing her own opinions. But after the breakup with Jason, something within Chrissy had snapped. It was as if Jason's proposal of their future life had pulled a veil from her eyes and shown her that it was definitely not what she wanted for herself.

And so, amidst her mother's shouts, her father's silences, and Jason's pleas, Chrissy had transferred to the University of Illinois in Chicago—she knew Jason wouldn't be able to follow her there without losing his basketball scholarship, plus it had the appeal of a big city where she didn't have to see the same faces every day. She had barely scraped by with her grades, but she'd managed it. Luckily, her father had put aside money for her tuition, in an account in Chrissy's own name—it was one of the few things he'd done right by her—so she hadn't been fazed by her mother's threats of cutting her off. She'd still had to get a job to pay for everything else, but Chrissy didn't mind. It was the first time she'd earned money for herself, instead of just getting allowances. It was the first time she'd lived with people other than her family—a very nice girl named Nancy, who was studying journalism at UIC. It was the first time she could eat without worrying about the calories. It was the first time she'd taken an active interest in schoolwork. It was the first time she could decide things for herself, instead of letting her mother or Jason decide for her.

She was doing a lot of things for the first time in her life, and she had never felt freer.

Of course, it wasn't always easy. It was never easy to shake off the habit of a lifetime, and Chrissy often woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, thinking she'd thrown her life away. She wanted to apply for nursing school, but although her grades had improved a great deal, she wasn't sure she could make it through the program. What if she flunked out and had to come home with her tail between her legs? Her mother would never let her hear the end of it.

And then there was the matter of her love life.

Chrissy sighed as she put on her make-up. Perhaps she shouldn't have started this train of thought about Jason right before her first date—and a blind date at that!—in nearly two years. It only made her more nervous. Ever since she moved to Chicago, there had been plenty of guys interested in her, but Chrissy had never been confident enough to accept any of them. What if they turned out to be like Jason? About six months after she left, he had shown up on campus and proceeded to make a spectacle of himself in front of everyone as he begged Chrissy to come home. Chrissy had become frozen by shock and fear, and it was only thanks to Nancy, who had had the presence of mind to call security to escort Jason away, that Chrissy had found some peace. She hadn't seen Jason again after that, not even when she'd gone home for summer break.

But even though she was over Jason—which she was, truly and fully—Chrissy was still not ready for that kind of intimacy again. How could she let anyone know her, when she didn't even know herself?

It was why, when Nancy had suggested that Chrissy take the plunge, she had accepted it, albeit in a cautious way—even if the date went nowhere, at least it would make her more comfortable with dating again. Besides, Nancy had said Chrissy needed someone completely different from Jason, and from the sound of it, the guy Nancy set her up with, Eddie, was just that—he majored in English, he played guitar, and he was, by all accounts, something of a nerd. She couldn't get further from Mr. Popular Basketball Star than that.

"How do you even know this guy?" Chrissy had asked, when Nancy first told her about him. "Does he work at the newspaper too?"

"He runs the school's Dungeons and Dragons club," replied Nancy.

"Isn't that the—satanic game?" Chrissy said, her voice hushed.

"Don't let my brother Mike hear you say that," Nancy said, smiling. "He and his friends are really into it, but I know nothing about it, so I went to the club to ask about present ideas for Mike." Sometimes, when comparing herself to Nancy, who was juggling school, a job at the school's newspaper, an internship at the Chicago Tribune, a boyfriend, and still managed to have a good relationship with her family, Chrissy felt like a failure. "Anyway," Nancy continued, "that's how I met Eddie. Trust me, he's really nice."

Chrissy had spoken to Eddie on the phone once after that, to set up their date. He did sound nice—or his voice did, at any rate—but Chrissy hadn't let that fool her. Jason had been really nice too, until she'd done something that didn't fit with his image of a perfect girlfriend.

Chrissy finished her make-up and threw a cardigan over her simple blue dress. She looked into the mirror again, hoping to see a mature young woman of twenty-one, put-together, confident. What she saw was a girl, still looking like she had in high school, eyes wide, anxious, her naïveté showing all too clearly on her face. She thought about asking Nancy for advice, but Nancy was hunched over at her desk, frowning at her typewriter as though it wasn't typing fast enough for her liking, and Chrissy didn't want to bother her. At the last minute, she pulled off her scrunchie, letting her hair fall over her shoulders again. Not much of an improvement, but at least she no longer looked like a schoolgirl.

"Have fun!" Nancy said over her shoulder as Chrissy grabbed her bag. With a quick wave back, Chrissy left their room.

She took the L from the dorm to the South Side. Eddie worked at a music store there, and he didn't get off until six, nor did he drive, so Chrissy had insisted on meeting him at the store. He had offered to pick her up instead, but she'd claimed she didn't mind and wanted to save him the trip. The truth was that she wanted to check him out from afar, before they met face-to-face.

She arrived at the store with twenty minutes to go. The store was on a street corner, its front shaded by a maple tree whose leaves were turning brilliant shades of gold and crimson. Feeling a little ridiculous, Chrissy tried to peer in through the window to catch a glimpse of Eddie. There was no sign of him, or anyone for that matter, only rows and rows of musical instruments—guitars, keyboards, and drum sets further in the back. The place exuded the calm, peaceful air of a library, only with less quiet—despite its apparent emptiness, snatches of music and laughter floated from somewhere in the back of the store through the crisp October air, giving the quiet street outside a rather lively, festive feel. Chrissy was not very musical, but even her fingers itched to strum those gleaming guitars.

"Can I help you?" said a voice next to her, making her jump.

Chrissy turned around. A boy was standing next to her—she had been too busy admiring the guitars to notice him come out of a side door. He looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, with an impish, cheerful face, surrounded by wiry hair poking out from under a baseball cap bearing the store's logo.

"Sorry," Chrissy said automatically. "I'm looking for Eddie."

The boy's eyebrows went up. Probably not a lot of girls came by the store looking for Eddie then. Chrissy wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. "Could you tell him that Chrissy's here, please?" she asked the boy.

"Ohhh!" the boy exclaimed as understanding dawned on his face. "You must be his date! Hang on a sec, I'll get him." He hesitated. "He may still be in his lesson though. Do you want to come inside?"

"Thanks, but I'll wait for him out here," said Chrissy, wondering what kind of lesson the boy meant.

The boy gave Chrissy an amicable grin, showing his braces, then he turned on his heel and went back in through the side door. "Eddie!" Chrissy heard him shout through the door left ajar, with all the tact of teenage boys. "Your date's here! You're right, she is pretty!"

Cheeks burning up, Chrissy backed away until she was partially hidden by the maple tree. Another agonizing five minutes passed, before the side door opened again and a young man emerged.

Chrissy stared at him.

From Nancy's description, Chrissy had pictured Eddie as someone rather similar to Nancy's boyfriend, Jonathan—a bit weedy, a bit dorky, whom Jason and his fellow jocks would've made fun of in high school, while Chrissy sat by, shame-faced but not having the courage to speak up.

The young man who came out of the store looked nothing like that. He was tall, yes, and lanky, but definitely not weedy, and definitely not a dork. At least not like any dork Chrissy knew. His long, dark hair, which flowed in soft waves down to his shoulders, the steel rings gleaming on his fingers, and his leather jacket, layered with a denim vest stuck full of patches and pins, made him look like a biker or a rocker. To complete the effect, he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. The sunglasses struck Chrissy as rather pretentious, considering that dusk was falling and they would only impede his vision. Her heart sank. This was the guy Nancy believed would be perfect for her? He looked rather... scary.

Chrissy drew further behind the tree. She began to wish she hadn't accepted Nancy's offer. Her only hope that this was not Eddie, but some other employee of the store.

The young man leaned against the door, keeping it open. Kids, all with guitars slung on their backs or hanging from their shoulders, streamed out past him. At least this answered Chrissy's question about the lesson.

"Bye, Eddie!" a little girl said as she ran through the door, dispersing any hope Chrissy might have about the young man's identity.

"Bye, Pippa," replied Eddie. "Don't run."

Chrissy could glimpse fangs behind his lips, and for a confused moment, she wondered if he was a vampire. Then she remembered, with a jolt, that it was almost Halloween. Now that she was paying more attention, she noticed a row of jack-o-lanterns in the shop's windows, and saw that most of the kids were dressed up, as ghosts and ghouls, princesses and superheroes. She amended her initial impression of Eddie's sunglasses, feeling ashamed that she had been so quick to judge. Maybe they were a part of his costume—maybe he was dressed up as Jason Patric from The Lost Boys. He certainly had the right look for it.

As Chrissy watched Eddie say goodbye to the kids, her apprehension gradually fell away. He was clearly well liked by the kids, and in turn, he seemed to like them as well—he called each of them by name and had something to say to each of them, a few words of praise, a gentle admonishment, or a joke. A boy, dressed as a werewolf, went through the door and growled at Eddie. Eddie hissed back. "Don't let the fleas catch you," he said and fist-bumped the boy, who giggled delightedly.

Chrissy couldn't help grinning herself. Now feeling a lot more at ease, she waited until the last kid had left and went up to Eddie. His face was turned away, so he didn't see her.

"Eddie?" she called.

He finally turned to face her, and Chrissy's heart skipped a beat. Despite the sunglasses, his face was open, friendly, and—yes, quite cute too, with a fine-shaped nose, a strong chin and jaw that somehow managed to still look soft, and full lips that broke out in a smile the moment he saw her. "Chrissy?" he said.

"Yes."

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Have you been here long?"

"No, not at all—"

They were interrupted by the boy with the baseball cap, who emerged from the door and pressed something flat and white into Eddie's hand. "Dude, don't forget this," the boy said. Turning to Chrissy, he added with a grin, "I swear, he meets a pretty girl and next thing you know, he's forgetting his own head."

"Thank you, Henderson," Eddie said loudly and pointedly, poking the boy with the white thing and pushing him back inside, before letting the door slam shut. "Sorry about that," he said to Chrissy with an apologetic smile, and started unfolding the white thing, section by section.

"What's that for?" Chrissy asked, pointing at the thing, which she now recognized as a cane.

"What's what for?"

She couldn't tell if he was being obtuse on purpose or not, but she was getting a little annoyed. "The cane," she said.

"Oh, just in case," Eddie said with a shrug. He still hadn't taken his sunglasses off.

"Just in case of what?"

An awkward silence stretched between them as Eddie leaned on the fully unfolded cane. He stared at her—or at least Chrissy thought he was staring at her.

"Chrissy, I'm blind," he said.

Chrissy thought she'd misheard. "What?" she asked blankly.

"You don't know that?"

"No!"

"Didn't Nancy tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything, only that you run the Dungeons and Dragons club at UIC." Chrissy felt like she was living in some horrible sitcom. It all made sense now, the dark glasses in the evening, the fact that he didn't drive...

"You sure?" Eddie asked, a strain in his voice.

"Yes! I think I would've remembered if she told me you were blind!" And I would kill her for not telling me, she thought.

Eddie's full lips pressed together into a hard line. "Look, we don't have to do this," he said. "Just give me the word and I'll walk away, OK?" He turned to go.

Something made Chrissy reach out and grab his arm. "No! It's not that—I don't want you to go." She looked more closely at Eddie. He had been so nice to the kids. What is it that people say, about children and animals being the best judge of character...? And he was really cute, even when angry. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just—I've never gone out with a blind guy before."

"Most girls don't want to," Eddie said, still looking sullen.

That was when Chrissy made her decision. "Well, I'm not most girls."

Eddie's face softened when he realized what she was saying. "But—a pretty girl like you—you must have guys hanging around you all the time—"

"I can assure you I don't," Chrissy said honestly. "And how do you know if I'm pretty or not?" she asked, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth despite herself.

"You sound pretty," he said simply, without any attempt at being flirtatious. How could she not be charmed by that?

"And to think, I put so much effort into my outfit too," she said.

Eddie grinned then, a quick, sudden smile that lit up his whole face like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, showing two dimples on his cheeks. "I'm sure you look great," he said. "So where are we going then?"

A sudden idea hit Chrissy. "Tell you what," she said. "If you can guess which hand I'm holding up, then you can pick where we go." She raised her right hand.

Eddie tilted his head, as if he was really trying to see. "... Left?" he guessed.

"How did you do that?!" Chrissy said, quickly putting her hand down. She hoped she sounded believably surprised.

"I didn't get it, did I?" said Eddie, laughing. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not! You really did get it!" Chrissy protested, but she laughed as well. She hadn't laughed like that with anyone in so long. Certainly not with Jason.

"OK," Eddie said. "I guess I won then. Have you been to Chinatown?"

"No."

"Perfect! So we're going to Chinatown."

"Um, Eddie?"

"Yes?"

Chrissy touched a finger to her lips. And then, remembering Eddie couldn't see her, she said, "Your fangs?"

"Oops." Those mischievous dimples dipped and rose again, making him look like an impish boy, as he pulled off the plastic fangs and slipped them into a pocket. "Let's go!"

***

Chinatown was only a few blocks from the store, so they walked. Eddie kept his glasses on and used the cane, though Chrissy could see that it was more for the benefits of others than himself—he walked confidently, his strides slow but steady, without hesitation at any turn or crossing. On the way, Eddie told her about his work at the store and the guitar lessons with the kids, about his band, Corroded Coffin—which he invited her to see—and about his studies at UIC and how he hoped to become a teacher one day. "Or become the Stevie Wonders of heavy metal, who knows," he added with a chuckle.

For her part, Chrissy said little. She simply enjoyed listening to Eddie, fascinated by how fun and interesting his life was. And a sense of shame crept over her, as it always did whenever she compared herself with someone else. Even Eddie could manage to lead such a full life with his disability, yet here she was, trembling at the simple thought of going out to eat, or meeting someone new...

Then they arrived, and the sights and sounds and smells of Chinatown drove the worries from her mind. They walked through the big, colorful gate, down the main street strung with red lanterns, past buildings with curved roofs and stone lions flanking their doors, past murals of Chinese warriors and dragons coiling in clouds or waves, before turning left and heading toward the big square. Chrissy could see why Eddie loved the place. Even if you can't see, there are plenty here to engage your other senses—from the lively music flowing out from every store front, to the cries of the street vendors hawking their wares, from the mouth-watering smell rising from the snack stalls to the presence of hundreds of other people surrounding them, all enjoying themselves.

"Do you want to eat in a restaurant, or do you want street food?" asked Eddie.

Chrissy had no idea what Chinese street food would be like, but she liked the atmosphere of the square too much to want to sit down in a restaurant away from it. "Street food, please," she said boldly.

So that was what they did, getting a to-go box of dim-sum—both steamed and fried, sweet and savory—and sharing it while ambling around. Chrissy found the idea of eating on the street strangely liberating. In a restaurant, she was always conscious of other people watching what she ate—or didn't eat—but here, almost everybody was eating while walking and shopping and talking, children clutching skewers of grilled meat, teenagers giggling over pork buns and egg tarts, elderly ladies slurping from bowls of noodle as they people-watched. It relaxed her so much that she even fed Eddie a few pieces of dim-sum, and let him feed her a few in return.

They continued to talk. Chrissy discovered that she and Eddie had more in common than she realized—he came from Indiana as well, though his hometown was even smaller than hers. She also learned that he went blind due to a rare genetic disorder, and that he got a scholarship to UIC.

"But I've been talking too much," Eddie said suddenly. "Tell me something about yourself."

"You don't want to hear about me," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "I'm boring."

"I'm sure you're not. Nancy told me you're a cheerleader."

"I was a cheerleader. In high school."

"That's really cool."

Chrissy was silent. How could she tell him that she didn't like that part of her and that she wished to leave it behind?

"And you're in health studies now?" Eddie prompted.

"Yes. I want to apply for nursing school, but—" Chrissy stopped herself.

"But what?"

Chrissy hesitated. She hadn't planned on telling Eddie about her fears, yet something about him calmed her and made her want to open up to him.

"I don't know. What if I'm not cut out for it?" she said. "I know the cliché, how would I know if I don't try and so on, but still." She sighed. "I must sound so lame, right?"

"Why would you say that?" Eddie asked, all serious.

"Well, here I am, worrying about a program I don't even have the courage to apply for, while you've done so much with your life..." Eddie was quiet, and she trailed off, wondering if she might have offended him.

After a while, he said, "I was terrified too, when I first moved here." He shrugged. "Heck, I'm still terrified now, sometimes. But I remember what my uncle told me, after I went blind."

"How old were you?" Chrissy asked, looking at him.

"I was six."

She went quiet, her heart aching in sympathy at the thought of Eddie losing his sight so young. How afraid and lost he must have felt! She also wondered why he mentioned his uncle instead of his mom or dad, but decided it was a question she could save for later.

"And what did your uncle say?"

"He told me to just put one foot in front of another and forget everything else." As if he could sense her gaze, Eddie turned and gave her a smile, making her stomach flip.

Chrissy was still running those simple words through her head when a drumroll at the end of the street drew her attention. Following the crowd, they came to a storefront festooned with red ribbons and blazing with lanterns. Three people wearing a half-lion, half-dragon costume were dancing to the drums, trying to reach a ball hanging over the store's front door, under a banner that proclaimed "Three Happiness Restaurant - GRAND OPENING" in English and Chinese.

"It's a grand opening of a restaurant," Chrissy explained to Eddie, over the deafening sound of drums and cymbals. "They're performing some sort of dance."

"I bet it's a lion dance."

"How do you know?"

"I've heard of them. Is there a bunch of guys dressed in a lion costume?"

"Yes, but it doesn't look much like a lion. Looks more like a dragon." She tried to describe to him how the lion's eyelids could actually move, and how the sequins and spangles on its head and body flashed and sparkled in time with the music, giving the impression that it was a real, living thing. She thought she was doing a terrible job of it, but Eddie seemed fascinated. He tilted his head toward the dancers and tapped his foot along with the drums.

"I've never seen a lion dance," he said. "I've always assumed that they looked like, you know, actual lions. Your description sounds much better."

Now the dancers were standing on each other's shoulder to catch the ball in the lion's mouth. The crowd surged forward. Chrissy found herself holding Eddie's elbow automatically, drawing him close to her, supporting him, so he wouldn't be jostled. A cheer went up as the lion caught the ball, and fireworks exploded over their heads.

Eddie lifted his face toward the sky, the colorful sparks reflected in his glasses.

"Can you—see it?" Chrissy asked. She almost bit her tongue off, realizing how idiotic she'd sounded. Of course he couldn't see.

Eddie didn't seem to notice her blunder. "I can feel it," he said.

Chrissy looked up as well, but she didn't watch the fireworks. She looked at Eddie, at the shape of his jawline, at his lips slightly opened, and wondered what it would feel like to kiss those lips. She thought about how afraid she'd been the past year, away from home, away from her family and friends, away from everything she'd ever known, how terrifying it all was. Now, standing here with this guy whom she'd only just met yet felt like she'd known for a long time, she started to realize how freeing it had all been, and would continue to be. And for the first time, she no longer felt ashamed when she compared herself to another. Instead, she felt—encouraged. If Eddie could do all he'd done and more, then what was holding her back?

***

Eddie insisted on walking her back to the dorm, since he lived only a few blocks away. Chrissy didn't protest. She didn't want the night to end, but if it had to end, then she wanted to spend as much of the remaining time with him as possible.

She had never felt like this about anyone, not even Jason. Her excitement after their first date had all been because of herself, her vanity, her naïve dream of the future. But this, with Eddie, was nothing like the headiness of that fourteen-year-old girl. There was a calm certainty in her feelings for him—she'd heard people say that when you meet the right person, you'd just know. Well, she knew now. She wouldn't call it love just yet, but he made her feel warm and safe, and she never wanted those feelings to go away.

Chrissy was almost sorry when they approached the dorm entrance. She was trying to come up with an excuse to invite Eddie inside—not to her room, where Nancy was no doubt still frowning over her article, but to the lounge, perhaps—when a figure stepped out of the shadow and blocked their way.

Chrissy's heart dropped like a lead weight.

It was Jason.

He still looked as she remembered him—clean-cut, handsome in a varsity jacket bearing his school's colors and his name on the chest, utterly charming. That was the terrible thing. After all this time, she'd expected him to look threatening or sinister, but even here, on this darkened street, he still looked like the boy she'd once thought she loved, and she knew, he only had to say the right thing, pushed the right button, and she'd come running back to him...

"Hi, Chris," Jason said, like they just happened to run into each other on the quad.

Chrissy stood stock still, frozen by fear and panic, her mouth clamped shut. She was afraid that if she responded to him, he would be able to draw her back, like in some twisted fairy tale.

"Listen, I just want to talk, OK?" Jason continued in a placating tone. "I may have been a little—hasty, but you're overreacting to a ridiculous degree! Leaving your family, leaving everything you know behind, and for what? This has gone on long enough. Come home, Chris."

His tone and the diminutive, dismissive "Chris" irritated Chrissy, and the irritation wiped away some of her fear. He'd always talked to her like that whenever she tried to tell him something made her uncomfortable or argue against his opinion, like he knew best and she knew nothing at all. He sounded just like her mother.

"Chrissy, you OK?" Eddie's voice broke through the haze, and his hand found hers, giving her strength. "Who is it?"

Jason hadn't even deigned to look at Eddie, as if he considered Eddie not worth his attention. Now he turned to Eddie and took in the cane, the glasses, their hands clasping each other tightly, and his lips curled up in an ugly sneer.

"Seriously, Chris?" he said to Chrissy. "You dumped me for a blind—freak?"

Eddie might not have recognized Jason's condescending tone toward Chrissy, but this he noticed. "Hey man," he said, stepping forward to shield Chrissy from Jason, "I don't know who you think you are, but I don't appreciate your tone—"

"Shut up," snapped Jason. "I'm here to talk to my girlfriend."

Finally, Chrissy found her voice. Walking out from behind Eddie, she looked straight at Jason and said, "No, Jason. You shut up. I'm not your girlfriend anymore. It's been a year. We have nothing to talk about. And if you don't leave me alone, leave us alone, if I ever see you around campus again, I'm going to call the police and file a restraining order against you. I don't think a stalking charge would look good on your record, do you? Now get the fuck out of my sight!"

Under the yellow streetlamp, Jason's face turned a peculiar shade of green. Chrissy's voice had drawn some attention. It was late, but this being Friday night, there were still plenty of students mingling around, and some were turning toward the three of them with curiosity and interest. Jason glanced at the onlookers and back to Chrissy again. He opened his mouth then closed it again several times, looking like a hooked fish. Finally, he backed away from them and took off running toward the train station. He soon disappeared into the dark.

Chrissy's heart, frozen in fear before, now started to beat wildly from relief and elation. Eddie gave her fingers a squeeze. His hand moved up her arm and her shoulder, and when he noticed how much she was trembling, he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. With his other hand, he took off his denim vest and draped it over her quivering shoulders.

"You're OK," he said quietly. "It's OK now."

Chrissy clung to him, breathing in his scent of leather and smoke and a woody fragrance that he must have picked up from the store—it was what she imagined a new acoustic guitar would smell like—and felt her trembles subside. But even when she had quieted down, Eddie kept his arms around her.

"So that was your ex?" he asked.

Chrissy nodded. Then, remembering that Eddie couldn't see her, she said, "Yes," her voice muffled from under his leather jacket.

"A piece of work, isn't he?"

"I wasted five years of my life with him."

"At least you're free of him now."

She let out a shaky laugh. "I can't believe I swore at him like that."

"Maybe you're stronger than you think."

She lifted her head to look at Eddie. He was smiling, showing those dimples that she had come to love—yes, love—and she could feel calmness radiating from him like a warm fire, burning away the cold fear in her.

"Let me walk you home," she said. "I think I've scared Jason away for now, but who knows what he may do..."

Eddie's face turned serious. "You think he may be lying in wait for me?"

Chrissy didn't think Jason was capable of that. She wanted to believe that he loved his reputation and his image much more than he loved her, and he would not risk those for anything. But she would rather not find out.

"I want to make sure you're safe," she said.

A little smile hovered over Eddie's lips, shy and incredulous, quite different from the mischievous grin he'd just had. "I'll stick to the main streets, I'll be fine," he said. "But what about you? What if he's lying in wait for you?"

She was touched by his concern, but that didn't alleviate her concern. "Let me call you a cab at least," she insisted.

"Cabbie would say it's faster to walk. It's literally only ten minutes away."

Chrissy sighed. If she had the dorm room to herself, she would ask him to stay the night in a heartbeat. Besides, it was too late to sign him in now. And then she thought about the possibility of spending the night with Eddie and was almost glad he couldn't see the crimson blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Nancy has a car," she said finally. "I'll ask her to drive you home."

Eddie still looked hesitant. "Are you sure? I don't want to bother—"

"It's no bother. Come in for a minute while I get her."

Nancy was furious when Chrissy told her about Jason's latest antics. "What a creep!" she exploded. "I wish I'd called the police on him when he showed up last time. Good for you for kicking his ass though," she added to Chrissy with something like a maternal pride, which Chrissy had never gotten from her own mother.

Nancy readily agreed to drive them to Eddie's apartment—Chrissy suspected she wanted a distraction from her work. Chrissy sat in the back with Eddie, and several times, she caught Nancy watching them in the rearview mirror and smiling to herself from time to time. Chrissy glared at her. To her credit, Nancy never said a word except to ask Eddie for his address, and "Here we are!" when they arrived at Eddie's apartment building—an old brownstone just behind the South Campus—not more than five minutes later.

"Thanks for the ride, Wheeler," Eddie said, getting out and giving Nancy's shoulder a friendly pat, by way of saying goodbye.

Chrissy hesitated. Should she say goodbye here, or should she walk him to his door? The guy is usually the one walking the girl to her door, isn't he? What would the etiquette be in this case?

Thankfully, Nancy saw her wavering. "Go ahead," she said, nodding at Chrissy with that same knowing smile. "I'll wait in the car."

Chrissy ran after Eddie, who was halfway up the front steps.

"Eddie," she said. "Don't forget your jacket." She pressed the jean vest into his hand.

"You keep it," he said. "So I have an excuse to see you again." The grin was back, shy and playful at the same time, and Chrissy melted in its warmth.

"I'm so sorry our date was ruined," she said.

"It's not your fault. And nothing was ruined. I had a great time."

"Me too. Thank you." Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was waiting, but she didn't want to say goodbye, not yet. She went up a few steps until she could see her reflection in his glasses. "Eddie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I—do you mind taking off your glasses? I want to see your eyes." She wondered if she was being intrusive, but Eddie only said, "Oh, of course!" He lifted his glasses into his curls, and Chrissy fell quiet as she took in his eyes.

Eddie's eyes were dark brown, the largest, softest brown eyes she'd ever seen, fringed by enviably long lashes. They looked blank, as expected, and even though the expressiveness of the rest of his face more than made up for it, her heart still twisted when she imagined how wonderful he would've looked, how alive his face would've been, if those eyes could see.

"They're beautiful," she said.

"I'd rather that they were functional rather than beautiful, but hey, you have to take what you can get, right?"

Chrissy realized she'd misspoken again. "I'm so sorry," she said, feeling wretched. "I didn't mean—"

"No, no," Eddie quickly said, taking her hand to assure her that he wasn't offended. "I was just joking."

Chrissy took another step up. They were now so close that she could count the freckles across the bridge of his nose, even in the dim light over his front door. "Can I kiss you?" she asked, a little breathless.

Eddie's own breath caught. "No one's ever asked me that before," he said.

"I've never asked that of anyone before either."

Eddie smiled. "I guess that made this the first for both of us." Then he sobered, realizing the weight of this moment. "I'd love a kiss from you." He leaned closer and turned his head slightly, putting his cheek toward her.

It was then that Chrissy realized he was expecting a goodnight kiss on the cheek, a chaste kiss between friends. And she also realized she had no interest in being friendly or chaste.

Pressing a finger to his jaw, she turned him to face her and put a kiss on his lips.

A moment's hesitation as Eddie was caught by surprise, then his mouth parted, welcoming, responsive, and he was kissing her back, slowly but surely. His lips were just as soft as she'd imagined them, and when he lifted a hand to her face, caressing her jaw and cheek, as if trying to feel the kiss with all of his senses, she forgot everything else but him and those lips under hers.

"Are you smiling?" he said as they pulled apart to draw breath. His fingers still continued their gentle quest across her face, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

"I am." Her smile widened, and she saw it reflected on Eddie's face.

"That's a good sign, isn't it?"

"Very good." His fingertips grazed her lips. She kissed them, and because that wasn't enough, never enough, she leaned in for another lingering kiss on his mouth.

Even when they pulled apart, Eddie kept his arms around her. "Chrissy?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"Can I see you—" Realizing what he was saying, Eddie chuckled sheepishly, and Chrissy grinned as well. "I mean," he corrected himself, "can we go on another—"

Chrissy didn't let him finish. "I'd love to," she said, and kissed him again for good measure.

She didn't know how long they stood there, arms and bodies and lips intertwined, until she remembered that Nancy was still waiting for her.

"I have to go," she said and reluctantly let go of Eddie.

"Sunday, then?" Eddie asked, as he walked slowly through the door, still holding on to her fingers.

"Sunday." She squeezed his hand to reassure him and watched until he was safely inside, before running down to the car.

"Thanks for waiting, Nancy," Chrissy said.

"No worries," said Nancy with the proud look of someone who knew they had done a good job. "I know what it's like."

"What was your first date with Jonathan like?" asked Chrissy. Nancy was so competent, so serious that Chrissy had always been slightly intimidated by her. Now she was glad to be able to have some girl talk with Nancy, as shallow as that made her.

"We didn't really have one," said Nancy, a wry smile twisting her mouth as she remembered. "We were on an assignment together, and it just—sort of happened. So when are you seeing Eddie again?"

"Sunday."

Nancy's eyebrows went up. "That soon?"

Usually, this would set Chrissy down another path of self-doubt, making her worry that she was moving too fast or being too easy. But now, still feeling Eddie's touches on her hands and her lips, still wrapped in his warmth from the denim vest draped around herself, and with his words still lingering in her mind, she no longer worried.

Put one foot in front of the other and forget everything else.

"Not soon enough for me," she said, and smiled at Nancy's astonished face.

So I got the inspiration for this from a viral video of a guy going on a blind date only to find out that his date was actually blind (I lifted some of the dialogue from the video.) Even though the video was apparently staged, it's quite cute and feels very Hellcheer. However, I decided to flip it around and make Eddie the blind one instead of Chrissy, because I like the idea of Eddie still being so full of life despite his disability that he manages to inspire Chrissy as well.

It's a one-shot for now, but I love writing Blind Eddie so there may be more stories for him in the future!

#hellcheer #hellcheer week #hellcheer week 2024 #hellcheer fic #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #one shot

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tennessoui · 4 months ago

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kit's ko-fi fics: July Wine Party AU!

she's here, she's arrived - it's july ko-fi time and the au i wrote a longer fic for this time is the wine party au! a quick rundown of the wine party au: obi-wan is a bit of a wine snob/retired chef and sommelier. anakin is a bit of a broke college student/retired frat bro. they fuck a lot and enter a quasi-relationship where they find each other fascinating and attractive but hate everything about the other except for all the parts they like. padmé and her psychologist friends find them fascinating. here is the tumblr tag for the au, and here are the links to the two ficlets I've written for the wine party au in the past: Tumblr Tag / Past Ficlets For Wine Party AU

and here is a little teaser for the fic that i've just posted up on my gallery on ko-fi for monthly supporters only:

“I don’t know, Padmé,” Anakin says, squinting at her tiny face on his phone. “I wasn’t asked to bring anything.” On screen, Padmé rolls her eyes. “You’ve been to enough of these things by now, Anakin. You should know you always bring something.” “I’ve been to a lot of these things at Kenobi’s house,” Anakin corrects, setting the phone down against the toaster so he can survey the kitchen around him. “I’ve never been to a fancy rich party on a big boat before.” “A yacht,” Padmé corrects. “And don’t try to pretend you’re not on first name terms with Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker. I’m a renowned psychologist, not an idiot, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the hickies on your neck after every wine party you attend with me.” “He’s a dick,” Anakin tells her. “And those could have been from anyone. Your other friend there, Organa maybe.” “My happily married and very straight friend, Bail Organa?” she asks, with such a tone of disbelief that Anakin entertains the idea of hanging up on her. It’d certainly make him feel better for a few moments at least. “Yeah,” he says staunchly anyway. “Better him than Kenobi.” Kenobi, who is a dick. Kenobi, who always looks at him with a slightly incredulous sneer, as if he’s unsure who allowed him into his social circle, or like he’s just caught him wearing muddy shoes on his precious white fur rugs.

as a general reminder, my ko-fi fics are standalone fics set in an au of my choosing that i've talked about on tumblr in the past. no ko-fi fic will include key information you need to understand for any fic published on ao3, but rather they're just extra stuff and longer fics than i usually post on tumblr. to see these fics, you need to be a monthly supporter on ko-fi - and if you are, you can see this most recent wine party one as well as 12 others!!! cancel anytime - you'll still have access until your sub runs out, a month after your last supporting payment. and of course i will continue to post things on ao3 and also on tumblr that anyone can see - this is just. extra stuff that i have fun writing!

#kit's kofi fics #wine party au #obikin #and also as always i am so so grateful to those who support!! thank you so much !#i mean this extra now that i am unemployed lmao #but i also understand why people cannot or dont want to or wish they could but can't and i dont expect anything from anyone

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cyberpxnk · 2 years ago

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until the moon and stars fall | jeong yunho

♡ pairing: yunho x chubby!reader ♡ chapters: 1 out of 1 ♡ word count: 2.3k ♡ genre: nonidol! au, comfort/hurt, fluff, established relationship

♡ synopsis: your bad day at work takes a turn for the worse but despite it all, jeong yunho never fails to be there for you.

♡ warnings/tags: chubby!reader, no gendered terms for reader, a lil self indulgent, cussing, body/fat shaming, mentions of body image, bullying, minor kissing, maybe a lil cliche but bear w/ me

♡ author’s note: this one is for all my chubby babes and customer service workers !! i've never rly written comfort before..,,.. so i hope it's like... ok for y'all :sweating_emoji: maybe i was a lil self indulgent on this one, but i hope u all enjoy it !!

The big fat zero in your face taunted you, reminding you of the awful day you have to endure for another hour. It wasn't often that you received no tip for your services, but the gods really rained down on you today, offering little sympathy.

Being a restaurant worker was tough shit, just as every other food industry and customer service job was. You hate it, really, but it was good money for a broke college student like yourself.

Between classes, there were days you managed to muster up your feigned smile of politeness to customers, serving them while dealing with their all too present bullshit attitude. Of course, not all your patrons were so unlovely but today... Man.

Two hours in and you're ready to rip off your apron and book it home. You're not sure what's going on with you, but clearly nothing good. Already having spilled several drinks and messing up an order, you know it's not your day.

Even the zero tip didn't surprise you at this point. What did matter is that you had to make it through the rest of your ungodly shift and just get the hell out of there. Maybe you would look for a new job or something, anything to sate your present worries.

What seemed worst of all was the ceaseless teasing that came from your coworker. She's the new girl, having barely worked with you, yet she was pompous and held herself with an air of arrogance as if you were someone of lowly status and she, royalty.

Unlike yourself, she radiated haughtiness and garnered attention from all types of people. You're not sure why she even worked as a server, but you suppose her pretty looks helped her out quite a bit. If not for her atrocious attitude hidden beneath her sickening saccharine smile, perhaps you would be swayed too.

"Didn't get tipped, porky? Serves you right for messing up so much today."

Yeah, there it was. Cliche beautiful and slender girl poking fun at her less than fortunate chubby coworker. Let's get one thing straight though, you don't hate yourself or your body. But her? That's a different story. Well, she certainly made it a little harder not to be self conscious, even if you tried your best on most days.

"Mhm," is all you manage back to her, lips pulled tight in a grimace as you continue to go about your work. Dealing with her was just another thing upon the pile of shit you didn’t have the energy for.

And you don’t particularly enjoy being reminded of how your uniform stretched uncomfortably over your larger frame or how your thick thighs often chafed together, holes forming in the fabric between your legs, which resulted in you buying way too many new pairs of work pants. Ugh.

Your coworker did enough complaining for the both of you, oftentimes taking a tone of mockery. On more than one occasion, you could recall her poking at your stomach in disgust before asking something along the lines of, "how do you even fit in the uniform? Did you have to order those rags off a plus size website?"

Yeah, in fact you did but that's irrelevant! You wonder when a grown woman like herself would get tired of teasing you, but it's been months and she's still going strong.

You can deal with it. You hope. Just one more hour, just one more hour — one more hellish hour and maybe you'll quit.

Another fifty minutes of waiting tables and withholding your anger, you know you're at the homestretch. As you balance a tray of dirty dishes, you mosey your way over to the back when you suddenly find yourself stumbling, barely catching how your coworker stuck her foot out before you.

No, no, no! What the hell kind of movie-esque moment was this? Surely enough, you trip over her leg and crumple to the ground, food and plates scattering messily along the floor.

The sound of her obnoxious laughter fills the air, growing louder in volume as she cackles, throwing her head back in a fit of malevolent glee.

"Oh my god! Can you do anything right, fatso?"

A rush of emotions and you're on your feet, wiping away some of the food remnants from your uniform. Hot anger is flooding through you and you're visibly seething.

"What is your issue, bitch?" You've held your tongue for too long and your eyes are welling up with tears, though you're unsure if it's from the unbridled rage or the overwhelming flood of negative feelings you're experiencing.

"Your fat ass is my issue! I hate seeing you at work. Nobody wants you here. Even the customers don't tip you because they lose their appetite after they see they're being waited on by a whale!"

The silence that falls over the restaurant is unsettling, tension palpable as nobody utters a word, hers still ringing in your ears. Even your manager who peers from behind the kitchen keeps quiet, unsure of how to handle the escalating situation.

Not that they were very helpful anyway, always allowing your coworker to have her way — insisting that she was just "joking" and that she didn't mean any harm. Ha, pretty privilege.

It was fine though. You had enough. This was the last straw and you would be sure to show them that you wouldn't take her shit any longer. You didn't deserve it.

In your flurry of emotions, what you fail to see is your boyfriend hovering near the front door. Clutched in his hands, he holds a paper cup filled with a latte and the other is a crumpled paper baggie with your favorite pastry.

Jeong Yunho was truly the epitome of sweet. Even after his long shifts as a barista, he never failed to make time for you. It was different today though. Something in the winds whispered to him that day, the energy unnerving as his stomach churned nervously during the last few hours on the clock.

Not wanting to ignore the feeling, he was determined to see you. If whatever gods or deities were compelling him to check up on his partner today, then that's just what he would do.

What he didn't expect to find was his said lover covered in slop, hair astray and tears threatening to fall from your eyes. If not for the last semblance of his senses steadying him, he would have stomped over in a fit of fury.

Yunho nearly did though, hands just barely unclenching the items he held. The scene unfolding before him... he should have stopped it, yet he couldn't will himself. The determined look in your eyes advised him otherwise.

It was clear that you had snapped. Despite your current state of disarray, you held up your head high and pressed your pointer finger to your coworker's chest, practically spitting out your next words, venom dripping with each syllable.

"You must get some sick sense of pleasure tearing other people down," you stepped forward and she stumbled back, eyes wide with bewilderment, "you're projecting pretty hard."

"Excuse m-" you interrupted her, moving another stride forward until she was cornered to the wall.

"You must hate yourself so much that you need to resort to shitty high school bullying tactics to feel better about yourself. I feel sorry for you."

Watching as you defend yourself, Yunho feels his chest swell with pride yet it pained him knowing you had been handling this problem all alone and he didn't know for how long. Several times in passing, you had mentioned your troublesome colleague to him but he never realized how awful to an extent it was.

"I'm done here, honestly. I'm sick of your attitude and I'm sick of management's negligence." You untie your apron and toss it at her face, watching as she fumbles slightly whilst trying to catch the fabric.

She sputters in response, her face twisting with rage as she points an accusing finger to you.

"Even if you leave here, you'll never be liked and loved. Not with that disgusting body of yours. Do us all a favor and hit the gym after you're gone."

It is Yunho's turn to intervene as he steps closer to you all, protectively hooking one arm around your side. The gifts he previously held were long forgotten, abandoned at some table in favor of defending you.

His entrance seems to startle everyone, including yourself as you jump slightly before you reach over, curling into the familiarity of his hold. The man squeezes you once, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You don't know how long he's been standing there, but you can see his gaze narrowed in a sharp glare. There's a fire alight in his eyes, wisps of anger that you rarely find on your gentle boyfriend's features. The heart shaped lips you're so used to seeing upturned are pulled taut in a line, displeasure clear upon his face.

"You're wrong. It's you who will never feel true love. Not with that nasty, ugly heart of yours." There's a sharp edge to his voice, steely and void of any remorse. You know he wants to say more with how his jaw clenches yet he turns you both around with haste and leads you toward the exit without another sound.

As you both walk out in silence, his hold drops from your waist and his hand is reaching for yours, fingers intertwining with a gentle weave. It's only seconds later before he's helping you into his car, buckling you in before he gets in the opposite side and begins driving home.

No words are exchanged, a quiet stillness in the air. Though he has one hand on the wheel, the other still grips yours as you idly play with his fingers. You try to distract yourself from the earlier events, tracing gentle shapes along his knuckles.

It's only until you're back within the safety of your shared home do the tears you've withheld finally drip down your cheeks. You sniffle once and then twice before you're sobbing.

Yunho's arms around you are immediate, holding you against his frame as he gently rocks you within the security of his protective embrace.

His soft whispers of reassurance and comfort fill your ears as you soak through his shirt with your tears. He clutches you tighter, never letting go even as your cries begin to wane. Minutes pass, and you're unsure of how long you're standing there before you sniffle quietly and reluctantly pull yourself from his chest.

When you finally look to meet his eyes, your breath catches in your throat. Yunho looks at you painstakingly, his gaze so tender that you practically melt in his arms. Your lip quivers at the sight.

"I love you," he whispers so faintly that you barely hear him. The warmth of his affections flood you, shaking your very heart to the core. Though he need not say more than those three things, he relents.

"You're everything to me..." He speaks breathlessly, his lips repeatedly finding yours between sweet and inaudible murmurs. You're sinking into his touch, blinking back the wetness in your eyes as his loving touches ghost along the soft curves of your body.

"Your size doesn't matter and it will never dictate how you should be loved. It doesn't make you any less attractive, any less desirable, any less lovable, any less you."

The tears begin to form in your eyes again, and you're unable to stop the steady stream of waterworks as your heart trembles from his admission. Your hands grasp his shirt and you open your mouth, though no sound follows.

"Jagiya..." Your eyes flutter as his breath fans over your face, his lips brushing away each tear as they fall.

You know there aren't enough words to express how he looks to you in adoration, how delicately he reaches to cup your tear stained cheeks, how he kisses you as if you're so fragile you may break from his dainty touches.

"The love I have for you seeps from my soul. I never want to waste a minute without loving you to the fullest."

There is a brief pause as he rests his forehead to yours, his palms still clutching your face with the utmost care.

"To me, you are ethereal. To me, you are divine. To me, you are perfect. If I am without you, then I would travel the stars just to see you."

His proclamation strikes your soul so deeply that you can't help the way your heart beats readily, nearly bursting from your rib cage. He describes you as if you were of the heavens and you almost feel unworthy of his affections, yet you can't help but to believe the sincerity of his words.

The feeling of his unyielding passion is all it takes for another wave of tears and he's no sooner repeating his actions, kissing away each drop that slips from your eyes.

"I love you so much," you say, unable to elicit anything more than just that between your soft cries. Your voice trembles with such emotion that Yunho understands you needn't say more.

With your hand grasping his, you lay it over your chest and allow him to feel your heartbeat, showing him just how much his radiance and purity of love stirs you so.

Yunho mirrors your action, and you feel his pulse steady to your palm. The lull of his essence roots you and grounds you to the very earth.

Until the stars and moon fell from the sky, just as he cherished you, you would cherish him tenfold. Just as he loved you, you would love him eternally.

#cyberpxnkwrites #chubby reader #yunho x reader #yunho x chubby reader #jeong yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez x you #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez x chubby reader

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