#christian yu x plus size reader

[frenchkisstheabyss]

ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ ₴Ⱨ₳₱ɆĐ ฿ØӾ

☽ Pairing ☾ warlock!christian yu x witch!chubby!fem!reader

☽ Genre ☾ supernatural au , fluff, smut

☽ Summary ☾ When his first attempt at a spell ends in him being chased out of town, Christian stumbles through the woods and stumbles upon your cottage. Unwelcoming to visitors, you attempt to chase him off but there's just something about this stranger that makes it impossible to turn him away.

☽ Word Count ☾ 2.7k-ish

☽ Warnings ☾ mentions of death/funerals (it's handled comedically so nothing gruesome), witchcraft obviously, unprotected sex, nibbling, a lil bit of rough sex, soft dom christian vibes, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (darling, love), & that's all babes.

☽ A/N ☾ I wrote this as a request for @magoapple who loves Christian Yu as much as I do. Thank you for trusting me to write up your idea and I hope that it came out the way you wanted. Love you 💜

It was supposed to be a simple sleep spell. A few sprigs of dried mugwort, ground lepidolite, the toe of a dead man, a splash of moon water, two creams, three sugars. Or was it three creams, two sugars? Racing through the trees, bare branches grasping at his limbs like the claws of the damned, Christian knows he made a mistake somewhere.

His grandmother’s spells, written on tea stained scraps of paper, provided clear instructions. Naturally a few words here and there had faded over time but how important could they have truly been?Important enough that they might've kept him from cooking up the nauseating potion that made him pass for a corpse.

The days of grieving that preceded his funeral service were hell for everyone but him. While dozens wept he snoozed peacefully. Arrangements were made. His pinstripe white suit was tailored. An oak wood casket was measured to suit his height. The only thing missing, the very thing that saved him, was that the mortician skipped the embalming process.

In a small middle of nowhere town like this, people are prone to superstition. When the mortician placed his scalpel to Christian’s throat, prepared to make his first incision, he could’ve sworn he heard a low humming noise. A death rattle is what they call it. Unremarkable when heard coming from the dying but when it’s coming from the dead? Cut into them and the sound will haunt you for the rest of your days.

And so he quietly left him intact. Something he’d come to regret when his wife rushed into the funeral home screaming in terror that the boy had risen from the dead at his own funeral. The townspeople were unhappy to say the least. Glancing over his shoulder, Christian can still see raging globes of orange looming between the trees. The flames of torches meant to burn him to ash.

There’s chatter amongst the small group of men tasked with capturing him. Their voices aren't distinctive in the slightest but their anger—their fear—seeps into their surroundings. One of the men managed to cut his arm before he escaped. His hand clings to the wound, gathering the fabric of his tattered suit to soak up the blood that drips from it.

He’s out of breath, lungs burning with every step he takes. He doesn’t know how much longer he can run or even where he’s running to. Only that he has to keep going or he’ll be burned at the stake. He knows he’s been running in a straight line but suddenly the trees seem to bend as if he’s made a right turn. The change is dizzying, causing him to stumble but he has to keep running. Straight? No, left. No, right. No.

Thud! His body collides with something unseen, knocking him to the ground. “What the hell!” you shout, bracing yourself for the fall. You land hard on your bottom, the basket of herbs on your arm spilling out into the grass. Scrambling to your feet, you spot the beast that slammed into you though he’s no beast at all. Despite his disheveled appearance, the dark haired man has a gentleness to him that makes you want to rush to his aid.

Watching him dust himself off, you see that he’s injured...and handsome. Incredibly handsome. But how did he get here? How? “Oh my goodness, I’m so happy I found you. You have to help me!” he pleads, grasping at your arm to pull himself up. You back away, sensing the impending presence of even more unwanted company. “You led them here? To my home! Who sent you?” Eyeing the cozy cottage behind you, Christian questions if he’s alive after all.

Everything from the chestnut shingles on the roof to the cobblestone path with flowers springing out from between the cracks reminds him of the story books he read as a child. Vines of wisteria climb the walls, bundles of lavender adorning the arches of the windows and doors. A place like this—it shouldn’t be here. 

“You shouldn’t be here! Whoever sent you—” you say, lowering your voice to a hush. “No one sent me. I’ve just, I’ve had a day, alright? If you don’t help me they’ll kill me so please, please help me.” You want to turn him away, send him right back in whatever direction he came from, but you can’t. The sincerity of his pleas tug at your heartstrings, playing them like a violin.

Behind him you spot the lights of the torches, bringing back dark memories of what lead to your life of solitude to begin with. Shaking away the ghosts of your past, you rush to pull his jacket off. “Take your clothes off!” “Hey!” he squeals, twisting free, “What are you doing?” “You stink of graveyard dirt. It’s interfering with my spell. Take your clothes off, anything the dirt touched, and dispose of them!”

Christian hesitates, unsure he wants to trust a strange woman’s demands to strip down, no matter how beautiful she is. “Just do it before you get us both killed!” “So feisty! Fine, I’ll do it!” Finally getting his jacket off, you toss it into the trees. Christian follows your lead, hurriedly stripping down to his underwear and disposing of the clothes in a small scattered area just beyond your grass. 

You’re ashamed of yourself. Staying focused has always been your strength and men, unfortunately, have always been your weakness. His muscled body is covered in inked markings, mesmerizing you to the point of total distraction. Christian catches you staring and winks, “Like something you see, darling?” “Ugh, you’re already unbearable!” you huff, marching towards your home. “Come inside, we need to handle that wound.” “What about them?”

Pushing your front door open, you turn around and begin counting backwards from 10. Gradually, the torches snuff out and the voices fade into the night. “We’re invisible to them now. They won’t find us. They won’t find anything. The trees will twist until they can’t even find each other.” You say this with a coldness that betrays your sweet exterior and fuels his curiosity.

“You’re magnificent” he muses, making you crack something too fleeting to register as a smile though it’s something resembling one. Lowering your head to hide your amusement, you step inside and he trails behind you, a lost puppy in search of a home. “Whoa” he gasps, marveling at the decor. It’s rustic and simple yet everything in it seems priceless. Even the picture frames appear ornate, the paintings within their boundaries thriving with life.

If he stands still long enough he could swear the paintings move. “Do you plan to bleed out on my carpet?” you tease, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a blanket and a small basket holding your own special first aid supplies.

“When did you get those?”

“Get what?”

“The blanket and the…they just…”

“Appeared?” you laugh, handing him the blanket, “Things tend to do that around here. Come sit.” 

Wrapping himself in the blanket, Christian makes his way into the kitchen. “Might you have a name, stranger?” you ask, setting up your own makeshift medical station at the table. “Christian. And yours?” Unraveling a roll of gauze, you glance up to find him staring at you with a longing in his eyes that even he may not be aware of. It makes your heart skip a beat, your pulse racing as you catch yourself slipping under his spell once more.

The sound of a pot boiling over on the stove reels you back in. You clear your throat, hurrying to tend to the dinner you’d so quickly forgotten about. Jumping into action, Christian grabs an oven mitt and is right at your side helping to put out a small fire before it catches. “Goodness, look at me. I’m such a mess. Forgive me, I just—this is a lot and I—” you ramble, flustered by the culmination of events.

You stop to catch your breath, a hand clutched to your chest. This is far more excitement than you were prepared for. “Would you like something to eat, Christian?” Your question makes him suddenly aware of how long it’s been since he last had a bite to eat or even a sip of water. The aroma rising from the pots is mouthwatering, only making matters worse. If he had enough moisture in his body to drool he would.

“I would love that, thank you.” You take him by the hand, leading him back to his chair to properly examine his wound. “I’ll feed you and fix you up then off you go. Understood?” He nods obediently, praying that mind reading isn’t among your abilities. As annoyed as you may be at his arrival, there’s still something so inviting about you. You handle him with such warmth. The very warmth that was so cruelly stripped from his life without warning. What intention could he possibly have of letting you rush him off?

But he lies anyway, settling into the comfort of your touch. “Understood.” 

Chirp! Chirp! The baby bird cupped in Christian’s hands flutters its wings. A thorn peeks from between its feathers, preventing it from taking flight. “Poor thing” you pout, pinching the thron and plucking it free, “There you go. All better, aren’t we?” Christian looks to you with the same admiration that he has everyday since he stumbled upon your cottage, injured and alone like this sweet little bird.

Weeks have passed since then, both of you finding excuses for him to stay before ultimately doing away with the notion altogether. Before his arrival you’d never spent mornings like this sitting barefoot in the grass enjoying the utopia your magic had created. Now every morning begins this way with him, hours spent opening up to him in ways you never thought you would with anyone.

You shudder to think of how long you spent locked up in that house, hidden from everything bad in the world and consequently everything, at least one thing, good. Christian sets the bird down in the grass, watching it hop off into the distance and disappear beyond the invisible veil that surrounds your home. “Darling,” he says, a sweet nickname he’s come to call you, “Have you ever thought about leaving?” You laugh at the obscenity of such a question, “Leaving? Wh-why would I do that?”

Sensing the anxiousness in your voice, he intertwines his fingers with yours, brushing his thumb along the back of your trembling hand. “There’s a big, wide world out there, darling. You can’t hide here forever.” It’s a knife through your heart to hear him say that word. Hide. “I’m not hiding here. This place keeps me safe. It keeps us safe.” You move to snatch your hand away but he only holds it tighter, bringing you closer to him.

“But it keeps us still. Something as beautiful as you are shouldn’t be kept. Beautiful things should be free, shouldn’t they?” “And who’ll protect me?” Christian smiles, deep brown eyes refelcting the morning sun, “I will.” Instinctively you want to make a mad dash for the front door, slam it behind you and shut everything out. But with it would go your new companion, the light at the end of a tunnel of seemingly eternal loneliness.

His other hand finds your waist, bringing you onto his lap. “I owe you everything” he whispers against your lips, “Won’t you let me give it to you?” He wraps his arms around you, kissing you with all the passion his words can’t communicate. It steals your breath away, killing that urge to run away. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you tilt forward to deepen the kiss. His tongue ventures further into your mouth, his hands finding their way under your flowy black dress.

Your skin’s softer than the most expensive silk. He can’t get enough of touching you, caressing you. Light sparks of what feels like electricity give you goosebumps as he trails up your spine. “Come with me” he begs, kissing his way down your collarbone. His tongue teases your cleavage, rounding what lush flesh of you breasts overflows from your lowcut neckline.

Christian tugs the front of your dress down, groaning in pleasure as your breasts fall free of the material. Taking your nipple between his lips, he eagerly buries his face into your chest, suckling at the bud. You throw your head back, eyes falling closed, and profess to the skies that you’ll do it. “Yes” you moan, grinding down to feel him hard against your core, “I’ll do it.”

Christian hums happily, nibbling at your stiffened bud as he reaches between your legs to stroke your slit through your panties. Only there are none. They’ve disappeared. He looks up at you, perplexed. He knows you were wearing them. “Where—” “Did you forget?” you giggle, watching the awe on his face as he feels his cock spring from his pants, “I’m magic.” “Yes, you are.”

Magic in every sense of the word. Not only in the intoxicating kiss you pull him into. Not only in the way that you sink down onto him, swallowing every throbbing inch of him into you. You’re magic in the strands of hair that fall between his fingers and in the voice that cries out his name. “Christian!” you moan, tearing his shirt away to reveal the tattooed form you’ve lusted for from the start. He bounces you in his lap, bottoming out with each thrust of his hips. It sends shockwaves through you, your juices pooling at the base of his cock.

Your toes curl, back arching as the blood rushing up his shaft has his veins pulsing while you clench around him. “I’ve wanted you for so long” he confesses, gripping the plush of your ass. “Oh god, me too. So badly.” As if you needed to say it. You’re so wet that he can feel you juices splashing on his fingers each time your bodies meet. That says everything. But he loves to hear your voice. Hear you say that you’ve wanted him as much as he wants you. “Darling” he coos, his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, “You’re shaking.”

You are. It started when he first took your hand and it hasn’t stopped since. One especially rough thrust makes you cry out, your pussy beyond overstimulated by the return of sensations you haven’t felt in years. Your eyes sparkle with tears, a tightness gripping your chest, “Too much! Ah, can’t…” In one graceful motion he has you on your back, your trembling knees pressed back to spread you wider. “Ssh, you can. You can take it for me. My brave girl, hmm?”

You squirm beneath him, this new angle perfect for slamming into your sweet spot. “You...are...the...devil” you gasp, legs wrapping around his waist. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, love” he chuckles, taking that as a challenge. Pinning your hands above your head, he picks up speed, claiming every part of you in every way he can until you’re—

“Christian—I—I’m—oh my goddesses.” 

“That’s it my lovely. Wanna feel you—”

Your orgasm washes over you, the waves powerful enough to pull you under. You’re drowning and you bring him right along with you. You're overcome with every emotion all at once as you hold each other tight, flowing into each other, sticky and sweet.

The sky darkens. The air is still. For a moment you hear nothing and then your body relaxes. The sun returns, the sky somehow prettier than it was before. Christian collapses on top of you, his face disappearing beneath a mess of dark hair as he lays his head on your chest. He squints his eyes, noticing that, beyond his curtain of hair, he can spot parts of the forest he hadn’t seen before.

In the distance, the little wounded bird hops around with his friends. Not too far away he spots remnants of the clothing he tossed away when he found you. He can see everything now and that means everything can see him. It can see you. “So, where to first?” you beam, admiring the view with him.

“Anywhere you want, darling, as long as I’m with you.”

[plussizeappreciationfics]

I would like to request an imagine for Christian Yu with his fine ass black S/O... How about something along the lines of with the pandemic happening and being in Korea while your family is in the states has left his S/O feeling kind of lonely so he takes you on a midnight drive on his motorcycle to which leads to some very passionate sex I'm talking about let's make a baby type of sex

Enjoy!

Christian taking care of your home sickness includes:

 -Him first trying his best to distract you with indoor games, which succeeds for a little while

 -But the pandemic never ending which results in him running out of ideas

 -Him then noticing how much you miss your family on how more time you spending texting and calling them than usual

 -Him feeling sorry for you because his family is always visiting the two of you

 -Him then getting the idea to take you on a motorbike ride around the city as you’re basically becoming a couch potato

 -“Chris, I don’t wannaaaaa”

 -“Please it won’t be long”

 -You giving in and taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes

 -The ride actually being fun as you love the wind blowing through your hair and just admiring the beautiful lights and city

 -Christian driving up a hill and then stops there to take a break, loving to see the amazement in your eyes as you’re looking down at the city, the view taking your breath away

 -The two of you sitting down on the blanket he brought along and sharing passionate kisses

 -The kisses soon turning needy and lustful

 -“Take me right here” you beg in his ear while feeling your wetness already pooled in your underwear

 -Christian growling while shuffling around until he’s lying on top of you, staring deeply into your eyes while he frees himself from his pants

 -You mewling out in ecstasy the second his hard length smoothly slides inside you, your inner walls happily welcoming him

 -The only sounds echoing in the air are you love sounds as your boo makes passionate love to you

 -Him not rushing anything, his strokes making you lose your mind as he know exactly how to move inside you while stealing delicate French kisses from your lips

 -Him whispering how much he loves you when he feels you near the edge

 -You moaning his name out loudly while clinging onto him for dear life, not caring if anyone could catch you in the act

 -Him quickly cumming after you, crying out your name in pure pleasure before rolling off you and catching his breath next to you

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclubub  l @pleasantdreamqueen​ l @disneymarina l l @harleycativy  l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez  l @ilovefanfic86  l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace  l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath  l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu l @queenoftheworldisdead l @briannab1234l @miyaeadys-blog l @thenamelesscorpse2185 l @hihellogoodbyebruh l @nackrosor l @nerdgurl1985 l @2darkskinbeauty l @bugngiz l @african-melanin-goddess l @barnes-wilson-love l @ktiz90 l @let-the-love-in l @forlornfortitude l @robinredboob l @hopefuloperaangelnerd l @kola95 l @partypoison00 l @alwaysadreamingoptimist l @reniescarlett l @g0thicdream l @mayasopinions l @captaintightpants58 l

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

[daebakinc]

Sea Creature

Pairing: Christian Yu x Reader (G) Prompt: Creature from the Black Lagoon Word Count: 2.9K

~Admin V

            At first you were afraid of visiting your cousin in Australia. You’d seen too many memes and videos of the frightening wildlife there. You personally couldn’t think of anything more terrifying than putting your foot in your shoe to meet a large spider, or a snake coming up from the toilet.

             She’d finally convinced you though. She’d opened up her own juice café and wanted you to stay with her and help her out. You could explore the country on days off, enjoy local foods, and according to her, meet some of the cute boys who worked with her.

             You arrived at Sydney Airport the night before. The jetlag was unreal. But you did need to eat, so you agreed to go into the café that morning and see everything.

             Everyone greeted your cousin as you both walked in. She promptly introduced you to them and you couldn’t help but admit to yourself, all the workers were really really cute, just as she said.

             You looked around the café and were surprised at its size. It looked just like a coffee house, only it had tropical colors and served juice in place of coffee. It was also by the pier leading right into the ocean, so it had an incredible view.

             “Honestly,” you looked at your cousin. “When you told me you were opening a juice café, I thought it would be kinda lame, like a small room with a juice bar in it. But this. Just wow.”

             Your cousin scoffed then smirked. “Since when would I do anything lame?”

             A sheepish smile appeared on your face.

             “Alright, now to try our product.” She led you to the counter. “Christian!”

             It took everything in your power to keep your mouth from falling open. Beautifully tanned, muscled, and tattooed was the man your cousin summoned.

             “This is Christian,” she started. “He’s kind of a renaissance man around here. He does heavy lifting, stock, even catches fresh seafood for us to serve. But I think his specialty is making juice.”

             He chuckled and shook his head as your cousin introduced you to him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” His accent made your legs wobbly. “Glad you finally decided to come out.”

             A delivery man called out to your cousin. She looked to you both. “Duty calls. Christian, I think the plane ride was long and electrolytes are definitely needed.”

             He nodded. “Got it, boss.”

             Your cousin left you alone with arguably the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

             “So, before I forget, I got you a welcoming present.”

             “You did? Really?”

             He laughed again. “Don’t get too excited. It’s nothing special.” He handed you an unwrapped box.

             “A pocket knife?”

             “Trust me, you don’t wanna be caught around these parts without one.”

             “Oh, well thank you.” You took it from the box and put it in your bag.

             “Alright, so, I promised to make you a juice. What do you like?”

             Your sheepish smile returned. “I actually don’t really like juice. I’m not really a fruit person.”

             He stared at you for a long minute then laughter burst from him. Your cheeks burned red as you waited for him to calm down. “You’re telling me, you came all this way to Australia to work at a juice bar, and you don’t even like juice? Oh, that’s rich.”

             “I came all this way to Australia for my cousin to help her with her new business venture. And besides, at least we know I won’t be drinking all the inventory.”

             He smiled at you. Your heart palpitations had you wondering if you’d survive working a shift with him.

             “Plus,” you added. “She told me she’d allow music performances at nights, so it gives me a chance to show off my talents.”

             Christian’s eyebrow quirked. “So you’re a singer?”

             “Sometimes. Sometimes I’m a writer, too.”

             “Me too. She lets me and my crew perform as well.”

             Your stomach fluttered. “You sing?”

             “And play guitar.”

             You felt utterly attacked that your cousin didn’t warn you a god among men worked for her. She said cute, not devastating.

             “Alright, so you don’t like any fruit then?”

             “I like some. Melon, strawberries, bananas . . . maybe mango and kiwi. That’s about it.”

             He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

             You watched as he reached to the undercounter cooler and grabbed containers of sliced fruits.

             “Smoothie okay?”

             You bobbed your head.

             He worked quickly, tossing orange, red, and green colored fruit chunks into a blender. A blob of yogurt found its way into the concoction. Soon he was pushing a cup in your direction. Finally, he poked a straw into the liquid. “Go ahead, tell me what you think.”

            You peered into the cup. It didn’t look pretty, but it smelled nice at least. You put the straw in your mouth and took a small sip. Then a big sip. Your cousin wasn’t kidding. He was a juice expert.

             The big smirk on his face told you he knew it as well. “Come on. I’ll show you the pier.”

               You grabbed your drink and followed Christian outside as he walked straight to a railing and looked over at the ocean view.

               “Wow.”

               He smiled next to you but kept his eyes ahead. “I live on that island there,” he pointed out.

               You stared out at it. You could see what looked like a small house. It looked pretty. Then you looked around the pier for a boat. “How do you get to work every day?”

               “I swim.”

               “What?” He swims? Then you looked at his arms and shoulders. Actually, that checked out. “You must really love to be in the water.

               “Can’t get enough of it.”

               You sipped at your drink. “I was so wrong about Australia.”

               He quirked an eyebrow and glanced in your direction. “Yeah?”

               “I thought it would be just hot, desert, creatures from hell. I didn’t think I would like it this much so far.”

               “You can’t have seen much. Didn’t you just get off the plane?”

               You giggled in embarrassment. “Well, yeah. But it hasn’t been anything I’ve expected.”

               “Hang on.” He took your cup from you, walked back into the café and yelled something to your cousin. Then he came back out and nodded toward the road. “Let’s go.”

               You ran to catch up to him. “Where are we going?”

               He stopped in front of a motorcycle. “I’m showing you Australia. At least these parts.”

               You eyed the bike then looked back to him. “On that?”

               “Ever been on one before?”

               You shook your head.

               Christian grabbed both your shoulders and looked deep into your eyes.

               In a trance, you had no control over yourself and could do nothing but stare back into his deep chocolate orbs.

               “Trust me. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

               You felt yourself nod.

               The smirk was back on his face. He released you and turned back to his motorcycle. He grabbed the only helmet and handed it to you. He straddled the bike and waited patiently for you to regain your composure while you strapped on the helmet.

               Once it was on you couldn’t make yourself move. You stared at him sitting on the bike.

               “Don’t be scared.” His hand stretched out for you to take.

               When you held his hand, he pulled it to his waist. You climbed onto the bike. There was some space between the two of you until he reached behind for your legs and pulled you forward so you were right up against him. He then took your arms and wrapped them around his torso. “I thought I told you not to be scared,” he spoke over his shoulder.

               You were thankful that he was in front and couldn’t see the deep shade of red your cheeks were.

               The engine of the motorcycle came to life. It startled you it was so loud. Sensing your movement, Christian reached down to your hands around him and stroked up and down your arms. When he felt you ease against him, he lifted the kickstand and the bike sped onto the road.

               Your face buried into his back for the first minute or so, but as you got used to it, you turned and looked at the landscape.

               At first it was mostly beach. Then the road led inland. The buildings were a mixture of modern and old fashioned. The street lights had a vintage look. There were a lot more trees than you would’ve thought.

               When he reached a stoplight you loosened your grip around him, which urged him to speed away when the light was green so you’d grab him tight again. He slowed down when you reached the opera house. He stopped the bike and helped you off. He chuckled when he took in your face. “You feelin’ okay?”

               “Why?”

               “You look a little pale.”

               “Maybe because you’re a speed demon.” You took off the helmet and tossed it at him. He caught it easily.

               He walked with you around the opera house and explained little trivias about it and the area you drove around previously. He casually mentioned taking you to a concert there sometime which again made your knees weak. After an hour he took you back on the bike, but went a different route to the café, giving you more of Australia to take in.

               Back at the café, he offered to make you food and another juice. While you ate, he had to get back to work and your cousin sat with you.

               “So . . . whatchya think?”

               “That you’re a jerk. You didn’t tell me Adonis worked for you!”

               She snickered. “Yeah, he’s something.”

               “Do you know he swims here?” You bit into your prawn sandwich.

               Your cousin nodded. “Just wait til you see him come into work shirtless in his swim trunks.”

               You choked on your food. Your cousin patted you on the back, but still laughed at you.

               After you were finished eating, she took you back home so you could sleep off some jetlag.

               Once you were adjusted to the time difference, you spent the next several weeks training. Your cousin and the other workers were all really supportive and helped show you the ropes. But Christian held your heart and was your favorite to work with. He always joked easily with you and pushed you to do more and try more than you thought you’d be ready for. On days off he took you to the beach and showed you more of his favorite places, like a nearby lagoon and the best steakhouse on the coast. He showed you how to use the pocket knife for simple things and where to keep it handy. You got to hear him and his friends play music and everyone heard you perform as well. You were falling in love with your life in Australia.

               You and your cousin were the first in the café for the day. That seemed a little odd. Christian was usually in with some kind of sea life he’d caught on his way in.

               “Maybe it was bigger than he could handle,” your cousin suggested.

               You simply nodded and decided to get started on prepping for the morning shift.

               Two hours went by. The other workers on shift came in, but still no Christian. You knew it was silly, but you were worried about him. In the few weeks you’d gotten to know him, you knew he was nothing but punctual. He was the first one in and last one out.

               You looked out front of the café. His bike was there. You made your way to the pier and stared at the small home on the island he claimed as his. You wondered if maybe one of the other coworkers had a jet ski or small boat you could borrow.

               You scanned down the pier towards the jetty. That’s when you noticed a small fishing boat with a net hanging over the side. A large something was thrashing around in the net. A dolphin?

               You desperately looked for someone to alert, but there was no one to be seen.

               Running down to the boat, you searched to find crewmen, but still no one. You looked over at the side with the net. 

               It wasn’t a dolphin. If not for the scaly skin and fishy looking head, you might’ve thought it was human. 

               The non-dolphin stopped moving and was staring right at you. Dark chocolate eyes held yours. You knew those eyes.

                Without thinking you jumped into the water. The creature watched you, its eyes never leaving yours. A webbed hand lifted and held the net.

You reached in your back pocket for the knife Christian gave you that first day. You opened it slowly, worried the creature might think you were going to hurt it, but it remained calm. 

               With the net in one hand, you sawed at the rope with the knife. It wasn’t easy. The water made the knife slippery in your hand and the rope was thicker than you expected.

             You had cut through five pieces when you heard yelling. A man was cursing at you. He was the crewman of the boat. You hadn’t cut enough when he jumped into the water.

             “Piss off, dronger! That’s my mermaid, you slag!”

             The panic made it harder to cut since you were trying to move quickly. He was getting closer. You tried to hand the knife to the creature, but it slipped from your fingers.

             “No,” you cried.

             The man was almost to you, still cursing at you. You and the creature both tried ripping the net where you’d made a hole so far. You were able to stretch it a bit so the creature could squeeze out. Then the man flung his hand across your face.

             “How dare you take what’s mine! I’ll kill you!”

             There was no time to react. You were suddenly pulled under water. Water rushed past you as you were being dragged by something. The creature! It was good that you were out of danger from the man, but a new problem was arising. You never took a breath before going under the water. You very badly needed to breathe. You tried to veer up, but the creature’s hold was strong and it was moving too quickly. You tried to reach for it, touch it to give it some kind of signal. It was no use. With the pressure of water moving against it and you, it was hard to feel anything else.

             You tried not to panic, because then you’d need air sooner. Unfortunately, you were already quite panicked. If you didn’t breathe soon, you’d pass out, and then your body would naturally try to breathe in air. And if you did breathe, the burn of salt water would hit your lungs.

             Thinking about it, you involuntarily inhaled. Instant regret as the water went down your lungs. It stung worse than you imagined. You tried coughing, but that only caused more water to be sucked in. The pain felt like it lasted for hours, but at the same time, it seemed to dissipate. Blackness took over your vision and you passed out.

                  There was compression on your chest. It hurt. When it stopped, wind blew into your mouth. You wanted to react, but you were in a kind of paralysis. The pressure was back on your chest. You could make out a male voice. It sounded worried. Stressed. Air was going back into your mouth. And you remembered water. You remembered the burn of salt water going into your lungs, and now felt the same bite as it was moving out. You coughed and water flowed out of your mouth. Your body was being turned as you continued choking out the water, allowing it to come out more easily. The paralysis eased and you could move your hands to hold yourself off the ground. When it felt like there was nothing else to cough you gasped for air.

                  “Oh thank fucking Christ.” You recognized Christian’s voice. His hand was moving in big circles on your back as you regained a normal breathing pattern. You sat down and only glanced at the man beside you, acutely aware that he was completely naked next to you. “I’m so sorry. I was only thinking about getting out of there, not that you would need to breathe.”

                  You were confused. You couldn’t remember what happened. You looked into his eyes and tears started welling in yours. “Christian?”

                  He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his warm embrace. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

                  You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t help yourself from sobbing. “What’s going on? I – I can’t – I don’t remember.” You continued crying.

                  He gave you a big squeeze of a hug and held you until you calmed. Once your sobs stopped, he pulled back and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

                  You couldn’t help but look into his eyes, eyes that felt so familiar to you but now so strange.

                  “I can explain.”

[thoughtfulwooshin]

i’m back! (updated)

!!update!!: i’ve decided that i do not want to write smut anymore. it simply is something that i do not feel comfortable with, and i hope you guys can respect that. 

okay so I'm back from the short break that I took, and now requests are all open. I currently have a few to write, so here’s a list:

DPR Live x Reader, Fluff Completed. It’s called “First”

Christian Yu x Youtuber!Reader, Jealousy, Fluff

DPR Live x Reader, Fluff (plot: reader helps him with his horrible sleeping schedule). 

Christian Yu x Reader, Fluff (any type of scenario) (Reader is Black and plus sized) 

Lai Guanlin x Reader, Fluffy High School AU (Reader is Black)

Hash Swan x Singer!Reader, Fluff (any type of scenario

Christian Yu x Reader, any type of scenario

Bloo x Reader, any type of scenario

Christian Y x Reader, reader’s birthday, Fluff, Smut

Christian Yu x Reader, baby shower, Fluff ft. DPR Gang 

Junoflo x Reader, (any type of scenario)

so far this is it, send more in! thanks guys for being patient, much love!

(update): these will all take me hella long to do. sorry for the wait. 

-shay 

[magoapple]

OH MY GOD GUYS YOU HAVE TO CHECK HER WRITING OUT! You want descriptive writing, something that makes your heart happy and much more then go read her work! You will not regret it and you'll find yourself struggling to get off her page it's so good!!!! ❤❤❤❤

ⱧɆ₳Ɽ₮ ₴Ⱨ₳₱ɆĐ ฿ØӾ

☽ Pairing ☾ warlock!christian yu x witch!chubby!fem!reader

☽ Genre ☾ supernatural au , fluff, smut

☽ Summary ☾ When his first attempt at a spell ends in him being chased out of town, Christian stumbles through the woods and stumbles upon your cottage. Unwelcoming to visitors, you attempt to chase him off but there's just something about this stranger that makes it impossible to turn him away.

☽ Word Count ☾ 2.7k-ish

☽ Warnings ☾ mentions of death/funerals (it's handled comedically so nothing gruesome), witchcraft obviously, unprotected sex, nibbling, a lil bit of rough sex, soft dom christian vibes, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (darling, love), & that's all babes.

☽ A/N ☾ I wrote this as a request for @magoapple who loves Christian Yu as much as I do. Thank you for trusting me to write up your idea and I hope that it came out the way you wanted. Love you 💜

It was supposed to be a simple sleep spell. A few sprigs of dried mugwort, ground lepidolite, the toe of a dead man, a splash of moon water, two creams, three sugars. Or was it three creams, two sugars? Racing through the trees, bare branches grasping at his limbs like the claws of the damned, Christian knows he made a mistake somewhere.

His grandmother’s spells, written on tea stained scraps of paper, provided clear instructions. Naturally a few words here and there had faded over time but how important could they have truly been?Important enough that they might've kept him from cooking up the nauseating potion that made him pass for a corpse.

The days of grieving that preceded his funeral service were hell for everyone but him. While dozens wept he snoozed peacefully. Arrangements were made. His pinstripe white suit was tailored. An oak wood casket was measured to suit his height. The only thing missing, the very thing that saved him, was that the mortician skipped the embalming process.

In a small middle of nowhere town like this, people are prone to superstition. When the mortician placed his scalpel to Christian’s throat, prepared to make his first incision, he could’ve sworn he heard a low humming noise. A death rattle is what they call it. Unremarkable when heard coming from the dying but when it’s coming from the dead? Cut into them and the sound will haunt you for the rest of your days.

And so he quietly left him intact. Something he’d come to regret when his wife rushed into the funeral home screaming in terror that the boy had risen from the dead at his own funeral. The townspeople were unhappy to say the least. Glancing over his shoulder, Christian can still see raging globes of orange looming between the trees. The flames of torches meant to burn him to ash.

There’s chatter amongst the small group of men tasked with capturing him. Their voices aren't distinctive in the slightest but their anger—their fear—seeps into their surroundings. One of the men managed to cut his arm before he escaped. His hand clings to the wound, gathering the fabric of his tattered suit to soak up the blood that drips from it.

He’s out of breath, lungs burning with every step he takes. He doesn’t know how much longer he can run or even where he’s running to. Only that he has to keep going or he’ll be burned at the stake. He knows he’s been running in a straight line but suddenly the trees seem to bend as if he’s made a right turn. The change is dizzying, causing him to stumble but he has to keep running. Straight? No, left. No, right. No.

Thud! His body collides with something unseen, knocking him to the ground. “What the hell!” you shout, bracing yourself for the fall. You land hard on your bottom, the basket of herbs on your arm spilling out into the grass. Scrambling to your feet, you spot the beast that slammed into you though he’s no beast at all. Despite his disheveled appearance, the dark haired man has a gentleness to him that makes you want to rush to his aid.

Watching him dust himself off, you see that he’s injured...and handsome. Incredibly handsome. But how did he get here? How? “Oh my goodness, I’m so happy I found you. You have to help me!” he pleads, grasping at your arm to pull himself up. You back away, sensing the impending presence of even more unwanted company. “You led them here? To my home! Who sent you?” Eyeing the cozy cottage behind you, Christian questions if he’s alive after all.

Everything from the chestnut shingles on the roof to the cobblestone path with flowers springing out from between the cracks reminds him of the story books he read as a child. Vines of wisteria climb the walls, bundles of lavender adorning the arches of the windows and doors. A place like this—it shouldn’t be here. 

“You shouldn’t be here! Whoever sent you—” you say, lowering your voice to a hush. “No one sent me. I’ve just, I’ve had a day, alright? If you don’t help me they’ll kill me so please, please help me.” You want to turn him away, send him right back in whatever direction he came from, but you can’t. The sincerity of his pleas tug at your heartstrings, playing them like a violin.

Behind him you spot the lights of the torches, bringing back dark memories of what lead to your life of solitude to begin with. Shaking away the ghosts of your past, you rush to pull his jacket off. “Take your clothes off!” “Hey!” he squeals, twisting free, “What are you doing?” “You stink of graveyard dirt. It’s interfering with my spell. Take your clothes off, anything the dirt touched, and dispose of them!”

Christian hesitates, unsure he wants to trust a strange woman’s demands to strip down, no matter how beautiful she is. “Just do it before you get us both killed!” “So feisty! Fine, I’ll do it!” Finally getting his jacket off, you toss it into the trees. Christian follows your lead, hurriedly stripping down to his underwear and disposing of the clothes in a small scattered area just beyond your grass. 

You’re ashamed of yourself. Staying focused has always been your strength and men, unfortunately, have always been your weakness. His muscled body is covered in inked markings, mesmerizing you to the point of total distraction. Christian catches you staring and winks, “Like something you see, darling?” “Ugh, you’re already unbearable!” you huff, marching towards your home. “Come inside, we need to handle that wound.” “What about them?”

Pushing your front door open, you turn around and begin counting backwards from 10. Gradually, the torches snuff out and the voices fade into the night. “We’re invisible to them now. They won’t find us. They won’t find anything. The trees will twist until they can’t even find each other.” You say this with a coldness that betrays your sweet exterior and fuels his curiosity.

“You’re magnificent” he muses, making you crack something too fleeting to register as a smile though it’s something resembling one. Lowering your head to hide your amusement, you step inside and he trails behind you, a lost puppy in search of a home. “Whoa” he gasps, marveling at the decor. It’s rustic and simple yet everything in it seems priceless. Even the picture frames appear ornate, the paintings within their boundaries thriving with life.

If he stands still long enough he could swear the paintings move. “Do you plan to bleed out on my carpet?” you tease, standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a blanket and a small basket holding your own special first aid supplies.

“When did you get those?”

“Get what?”

“The blanket and the…they just…”

“Appeared?” you laugh, handing him the blanket, “Things tend to do that around here. Come sit.” 

Wrapping himself in the blanket, Christian makes his way into the kitchen. “Might you have a name, stranger?” you ask, setting up your own makeshift medical station at the table. “Christian. And yours?” Unraveling a roll of gauze, you glance up to find him staring at you with a longing in his eyes that even he may not be aware of. It makes your heart skip a beat, your pulse racing as you catch yourself slipping under his spell once more.

The sound of a pot boiling over on the stove reels you back in. You clear your throat, hurrying to tend to the dinner you’d so quickly forgotten about. Jumping into action, Christian grabs an oven mitt and is right at your side helping to put out a small fire before it catches. “Goodness, look at me. I’m such a mess. Forgive me, I just—this is a lot and I—” you ramble, flustered by the culmination of events.

You stop to catch your breath, a hand clutched to your chest. This is far more excitement than you were prepared for. “Would you like something to eat, Christian?” Your question makes him suddenly aware of how long it’s been since he last had a bite to eat or even a sip of water. The aroma rising from the pots is mouthwatering, only making matters worse. If he had enough moisture in his body to drool he would.

“I would love that, thank you.” You take him by the hand, leading him back to his chair to properly examine his wound. “I’ll feed you and fix you up then off you go. Understood?” He nods obediently, praying that mind reading isn’t among your abilities. As annoyed as you may be at his arrival, there’s still something so inviting about you. You handle him with such warmth. The very warmth that was so cruelly stripped from his life without warning. What intention could he possibly have of letting you rush him off?

But he lies anyway, settling into the comfort of your touch. “Understood.” 

Chirp! Chirp! The baby bird cupped in Christian’s hands flutters its wings. A thorn peeks from between its feathers, preventing it from taking flight. “Poor thing” you pout, pinching the thron and plucking it free, “There you go. All better, aren’t we?” Christian looks to you with the same admiration that he has everyday since he stumbled upon your cottage, injured and alone like this sweet little bird.

Weeks have passed since then, both of you finding excuses for him to stay before ultimately doing away with the notion altogether. Before his arrival you’d never spent mornings like this sitting barefoot in the grass enjoying the utopia your magic had created. Now every morning begins this way with him, hours spent opening up to him in ways you never thought you would with anyone.

You shudder to think of how long you spent locked up in that house, hidden from everything bad in the world and consequently everything, at least one thing, good. Christian sets the bird down in the grass, watching it hop off into the distance and disappear beyond the invisible veil that surrounds your home. “Darling,” he says, a sweet nickname he’s come to call you, “Have you ever thought about leaving?” You laugh at the obscenity of such a question, “Leaving? Wh-why would I do that?”

Sensing the anxiousness in your voice, he intertwines his fingers with yours, brushing his thumb along the back of your trembling hand. “There’s a big, wide world out there, darling. You can’t hide here forever.” It’s a knife through your heart to hear him say that word. Hide. “I’m not hiding here. This place keeps me safe. It keeps us safe.” You move to snatch your hand away but he only holds it tighter, bringing you closer to him.

“But it keeps us still. Something as beautiful as you are shouldn’t be kept. Beautiful things should be free, shouldn’t they?” “And who’ll protect me?” Christian smiles, deep brown eyes refelcting the morning sun, “I will.” Instinctively you want to make a mad dash for the front door, slam it behind you and shut everything out. But with it would go your new companion, the light at the end of a tunnel of seemingly eternal loneliness.

His other hand finds your waist, bringing you onto his lap. “I owe you everything” he whispers against your lips, “Won’t you let me give it to you?” He wraps his arms around you, kissing you with all the passion his words can’t communicate. It steals your breath away, killing that urge to run away. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you tilt forward to deepen the kiss. His tongue ventures further into your mouth, his hands finding their way under your flowy black dress.

Your skin’s softer than the most expensive silk. He can’t get enough of touching you, caressing you. Light sparks of what feels like electricity give you goosebumps as he trails up your spine. “Come with me” he begs, kissing his way down your collarbone. His tongue teases your cleavage, rounding what lush flesh of you breasts overflows from your lowcut neckline.

Christian tugs the front of your dress down, groaning in pleasure as your breasts fall free of the material. Taking your nipple between his lips, he eagerly buries his face into your chest, suckling at the bud. You throw your head back, eyes falling closed, and profess to the skies that you’ll do it. “Yes” you moan, grinding down to feel him hard against your core, “I’ll do it.”

Christian hums happily, nibbling at your stiffened bud as he reaches between your legs to stroke your slit through your panties. Only there are none. They’ve disappeared. He looks up at you, perplexed. He knows you were wearing them. “Where—” “Did you forget?” you giggle, watching the awe on his face as he feels his cock spring from his pants, “I’m magic.” “Yes, you are.”

Magic in every sense of the word. Not only in the intoxicating kiss you pull him into. Not only in the way that you sink down onto him, swallowing every throbbing inch of him into you. You’re magic in the strands of hair that fall between his fingers and in the voice that cries out his name. “Christian!” you moan, tearing his shirt away to reveal the tattooed form you’ve lusted for from the start. He bounces you in his lap, bottoming out with each thrust of his hips. It sends shockwaves through you, your juices pooling at the base of his cock.

Your toes curl, back arching as the blood rushing up his shaft has his veins pulsing while you clench around him. “I’ve wanted you for so long” he confesses, gripping the plush of your ass. “Oh god, me too. So badly.” As if you needed to say it. You’re so wet that he can feel you juices splashing on his fingers each time your bodies meet. That says everything. But he loves to hear your voice. Hear you say that you’ve wanted him as much as he wants you. “Darling” he coos, his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, “You’re shaking.”

You are. It started when he first took your hand and it hasn’t stopped since. One especially rough thrust makes you cry out, your pussy beyond overstimulated by the return of sensations you haven’t felt in years. Your eyes sparkle with tears, a tightness gripping your chest, “Too much! Ah, can’t…” In one graceful motion he has you on your back, your trembling knees pressed back to spread you wider. “Ssh, you can. You can take it for me. My brave girl, hmm?”

You squirm beneath him, this new angle perfect for slamming into your sweet spot. “You...are...the...devil” you gasp, legs wrapping around his waist. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, love” he chuckles, taking that as a challenge. Pinning your hands above your head, he picks up speed, claiming every part of you in every way he can until you’re—

“Christian—I—I’m—oh my goddesses.” 

“That’s it my lovely. Wanna feel you—”

Your orgasm washes over you, the waves powerful enough to pull you under. You’re drowning and you bring him right along with you. You're overcome with every emotion all at once as you hold each other tight, flowing into each other, sticky and sweet.

The sky darkens. The air is still. For a moment you hear nothing and then your body relaxes. The sun returns, the sky somehow prettier than it was before. Christian collapses on top of you, his face disappearing beneath a mess of dark hair as he lays his head on your chest. He squints his eyes, noticing that, beyond his curtain of hair, he can spot parts of the forest he hadn’t seen before.

In the distance, the little wounded bird hops around with his friends. Not too far away he spots remnants of the clothing he tossed away when he found you. He can see everything now and that means everything can see him. It can see you. “So, where to first?” you beam, admiring the view with him.

“Anywhere you want, darling, as long as I’m with you.”