#exo!college
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Obsession (1)
Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader
Warning: Smut, Stalker
Genre: College! Au
Word Count: 3.4k
Fuck. You really should have declined this fucking date.
You were in your second year of University, now you were currently hours away from your friends and family now, but you needed it. For your first year of University you had gone to one closer to home, and while the school was good, you were miserable. You lived at home with your overprotective parents, who didn't allow you to go to any parties, join any clubs, or do anything you wanted. They were smothering you and you felt like you couldn't breathe while being around them. You needed to leave, so when you heard you had been accepted for your second year, 6 hours away, you were so fucking delighted.
Here you were, at your new school for 4 months and you had only managed to make one friend. Everytime she invited you out with more people, something came up and you hadn't really been able to meet more people who you vibed with. Lisa had quickly become your best friend. And while you loved this school, you almost regretted transfering, due to your current predicament. When a guy from one of your classes, Mark, had asked you out, you hesitantly accepted. He was nice enough in class but now he was weird and making you uncomfortable.
“What kind of things do you like to do?” You ask, trying to bring on some kind of conversation.
“I'll like whatever you do.” He smiles, reaching over the table to grab your hand. You quickly pull it back, pretending to itch your leg.
“You don't have any hobbies?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. You wanted to get the fuck out if here.
“You. You'll be my hobby. I could look at you all day.” He smiles. That made you groan.
“I think you need to have your own hobbies. Staring at me is not a hobby.” You say, checking your phone. You quickly typed a message to Lisa, begging her to call you with an emergency. It's only been 30 minutes of this date but you couldn't do it anymore.
Seconds later your phone rang, Lisa's name popping up on the screen. You gave Mark a slight smile before answering. She was laughing on the other end, but you put on a pretty convincing performance.
“What? Oh, Lisa!” You exclaim. “Yes of course, I will be right there.” You finish.
“Meet me at the Rook.” She says before hanging Up.
“I'm so sorry Mark, I have to go.” You tell him, grabbing your purse. “There's an emergency.”
“What happened?” He asks.
Fuck, you hadn't thought that far.
“Her…dad was hit by a..dog.” You stutter. “Yeah, just zoomed right under him, took him right out. He's in the hospital.” You say. “Thank you for a..evening.” You finish before darting out of the diner. You decided to walk, since you weren't far from the bar she wanted to meet at.
Pulling open the doors, you're met immediately with Lisa at a table with a few others you hadn't met yet. Others that would soon become just as close to you as Lisa.
“Y/N!” She screams, giving you a giant hug. “This is Jennie and Rose, Jongin, Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and Sehun.” She smiles introducing you to everyone. “So, how was your date?” She asks. You settle in at the table and begin telling them all about the 30 minutes you had just spent with Mark.
“He kept trying to touch me, saying that he'd do whatever I wanted him to do.” You sigh. “It was all very weird and he made me extremely uncomfortable.” You finish, finishing off your drink.
“Who made you uncomfortable?” You hear a deep voice from beside you. You glance over and see quite possibly the most attractive man you'd ever seen. He was tall, black hair parted just right. He wore a nicely fitting shirt, dark ripped jeans. He pulled up a chair beside you, sitting down and smiled at you.
“Ah, Y/N, this is Chanyeol.” Lisa smiles. “Y/N was just telling us about her date tonight.”
“If you could even call it that.” You laugh. “I only lasted 30 minutes before Lisa called me with an emergency.”
“Speaking of, what did you tell him the emergency was?” She asked.
You covered your face in embarrassment.
“I never said I was good at lying.” You start to defend yourself. “Your dad was hit by a dog.” You start to laugh. “It zoomed under him and took him out.”
Everyone stared at you before the table erupted in laughter.
“Oh my poor dad.” She laughs.
**
A few hours and a few drinks later, you were all paying your tabs, but first exchanging numbers with everyone at the table. You'd all made a plan in a few weekends to get together, there just happened to be a party at the EXO frat, and you, Lisa, Jennie and Rose were going to attend. You were happy to finally be making some new friends.
“Are you sure you're okay to get home?” Lisa asks you, as you sway outside the bar.
“I um, think so.” You giggle.
“Yeah okay.” She laughs. “Jongin?” she says, motioning towards you.
“I'll happily get her home.” He smiles, fuck he was hot. You glanced over at Chanyeol, but he had already turned to walk away.
Jongin wraps his arm around your waist, heading in the direction of your address, that Lisa had told him.
You shouldn't have drank so much
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your apartment door, trying to unlock it, but it really didn't help that you were seeing two of the locks.
“Here.” Jongin laughs, taking your keys from you. He unlocks your door, allowing you to stumble in. He hands your keys back to you. You mumble a thank you as you walk in and crash on the house. You can faintly hear Jongin chuckle as he closes your front door. You wanted to get up to go to your bed, but unfortunately your body was already down for the count. You snuggled into the couch and very quickly drifted off to sleep.
**
You swear to god you felt like you died. You rolled off the couch, your neck was stiff, your body hurt. This is why you never slept on the couch, you felt like an old, frail woman after whose body was failing her.
“Fuck.” You cry out, trying to move your neck around as you make your way to the bathroom. You turn on your shower, as hot as you're able to stand before checking your phone. You'd been added to a group chat with all that you met last night. They were talking about their upcoming week, until Jongin asked about you.
[From: Jongin 10:08am] How are you feeling this morning, Y/N? 🤣
[From: Lisa 10:08am] she probably feels like shit lol
[To: Group 10:10am] hangover wise, I feel great. Body wise? I slept on my couch and I have a hunchback now.
[From: Baekhyun 10:11am] don't die on us now
[To: Group 10:12am] no promises. I'm pretty fucked up ha.
[From: Jongin 10:15am] I can straighten you out if you need
You stared at your phone with your mouth hanging open. Did he? Was he really hitting on you? Your phone dinged again.
[From: Lisa 10:16am] I'M SORRY WHAT
[From: Kyungsoo 10:16am] I'm going to throw up my breakfast.
[From: Jongin 10:17am] STRETCHING. You fucking pervs. But I mean.. 😉
You set your phone down, and got into the shower. Would you take Jongin up on the stretching? Probably not, the hot water was already helping. However, would you take him up on sex if he offered? Possibly, but there was one face you just couldn't get out of your head.
**
The weeks went by, and you spent more and more time with Lisa, Jennie, Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and Sehun and Chanyeol. You didn't see Chanyeol as much, but you would see him around school every once in a while and when you would see him, you were met with a smile and a wave. You really wanted to hangout with him more.
The night of the party finally arrived, you were getting ready with Lisa, Jennie and Rose. The way you all acted together, no one would have known that you had only met the other two a few weeks ago, it was like you'd known them for years. Music blasted through Jennies apartment as you all danced around while doing your makeup, hair and getting dressed. Pre-drinks flowed and already you were having so much fun, you couldn't wait to see what the rest of the night had in store for you. An hour or so later, the four of you walked into the house of EXO, immediately met by the smell of weed and sweat. People were drinking, smoking, dancing and it looked like everyone was having fun. You and Lisa made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink while Jennie and Rose went to talk to some people. After a few more shots, Lisa dragged you to the dance floor, where you both let loose. You felt a pair of hands slide behind you, grabbing your waist tightly. You looked up at Lisa who had a weird look on her face. Turning your head, you looked to see who was behind you. Immediately you were uncomfortable. It was Mark.
“Hi, baby.” He whispers into your ear. You look at Lisa with wide eyes, mouthing “help” to her.
“Bathroom break, c'mon Y/N.” She says, grabbing your hand to pull you away from him. She pulls you upstairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.
“Oh my god, thank you.” You breathe.
“Ew, what is he doing?” She says. “What did he say to you?”
“Hi baby.” You gag, remembering the feeling of his breath in your ear.
“Oh that's fucked up.” She laughs. You both wait a few minutes before you head out of the bathroom, looking down the hall to make sure he's not waiting for you. Luckily he isn't upstairs, and when you went downstairs, you didn’t see him. You breathed a sigh of relief. You and Lisa got another drink, heading back to the dance floor where you met the rest of the group. Hours had passed and you had forgotten about your little interaction with Mark. You had left the dance floor, sitting on the couch with someone you didn’t recognize immediately. He wore a sweater, ripped jeans and a hat that almost covered his face.
“You want a hit?” he asks, passing you a blunt. You’d smoked a few times before but not very often because of your parents. You happily took it, taking a few puffs before handing it back. He looks over at you, giving you a smile and that's when you saw.
“Chanyeol.” you smiled.
“Having fun?” he asks. You nod your head as you feel the weed mixed with alcohol hitting you.
“That may have been a bad idea.” you giggle. Chanyeol smiles at you. Before you can say anything, you’re being pulled off the couch by Jongin, who insists that you dance with him, so you do. His hands on your hips as you grind your ass into him, but your eyes never leave Chanyeol. He adjusts his hat, showing his eyes that are set on you. Chanyeol licks his lips as he watches you dance with Jongin, his hands moving up and down your body. Chanyeol leans forward, his eyes still trained on you, his arms now resting on his thighs.
When the song is over, Jongin asks if you want a drink, you decline, wanting to go back to Chanyeol but you were cut off.
“Hey you.” Mark smiles, stepping in front of you. “Why did you run off?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
“I've been with friends.” You say, trying to push your way past him, going anywhere else. He grabs your wrist, tightening his grip.
“Why are you trying to leave? I'm talking to you.” He snaps.
“Look Mark, you seem nice.” You say, glancing down at his hold on you. “But it's just not going to work out between us.” you finish, trying to get him to release your arm.
“Why not?” He asks, holding you tighter.
“I'm just not interested.” You say, fighting his grip a little harder now. You were beginning to panic. Everyone was in their own little worlds, no one realizing what was going on.
“You haven't even given me a chance.” he spits. You can't be nice anymore. He just wasn't getting it.
“I don't fucking like you.” You yell, pushing him with your free hand. His grip loosens a little, allowing you to rip your arm from his hand. You turn to walk away, catching the eyes of Chanyeol, who was looking at you with a concerned look. You start walking towards him when you're pulled away, Mark's hand back on your arm, pulling you in the opposite direction, towards the front door. You looked back for Chanyeol but he wasn't there. Mark continues to pull you through the crowd. Panic was really starting to set in, until you came to an abrupt stop.
“Move.” Mark yells. You look ahead, seeing Chanyeol blocking the way.
“She doesn’t seem interested, dude.” Chanyeol deadpans, glancing down at Mark’s hand on your wrist. He grabs Mark’s arm, swiftly moving Mark’s hand from you. “Don't touch her, or we're gonna have a fucking problem.”
Mark stares at Chanyeol for a moment before looking back at you. He gives you a wink before he walks away.
You let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding. “Thank you.” You say to Chanyeol.
“Can I take you home?” He asks. You quickly look around for the other girls to say goodbye, but you can't see them.
“Please.” You half smile at him, heading towards the door.
The walk home was pretty quiet, until you were close to your building and Chanyeol spoke up.
“So that guy..” he starts.
“Was the guy I went on a date with a few weeks ago.” You confirm.
“That's crazy.” He laughs. “I mean, I can see the appeal though.” He smiles.
“It's just right up here.” You tell him, pointing to the building coming up. “Would you.. want to come up for a drink or something?” You ask. Chanyeol nods his head, as you both make your way into the building.
You really had planned on having a drink, but as you closed your door behind you, Chanyeol turned around, looking your body up and down. He stepped towards you, you stepped back, backing into the door.
“Just say no if you want me to stop.” He whispers.
You say nothing.
He crashes his lips onto yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, both of your tongues tangling together as he deepens the kiss, pushing his body against yours. You quickly discard your coat onto the floor, never breaking the kiss. Chanyeol bends down, his lips leaving yours and moving to your neck as he puts his arms under your thighs, effortlessly picking you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He pins you against the wall once again, freeing his hands as you're still wrapped around his body.
“Hope you didn't like this shirt too much.” He groans, Using both his hands to rip open your shirt, buttons flying everywhere.
That was so fucking hot.
He pulls the shirt off of you, throwing it wherever, he kisses your neck, moving down your chest. You flick his hat from his head, upset that you were the only one half naked.
“Bedroom?” he asks.
“Kitchen table.” You breathe.
He smirks, walking you to the table. He lays you down, pulling his shirt off in front of you.
Holy fuck.
He was a lot more muscular than you had originally assumed, he looked so fucking good. He reaches up, grabbing the waist of your jeans, he tugs them down, discarding them on the floor, leaving you in your bra and panties. You place your feet on the table as Chanyeol kneels down in front of you, peppering kisses between your thighs. You're so fucking wet, desperate and needy right now and this was not helping.
“Please.” You pant.
“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” He says, moving closer to your pussy but not close enough.
“Eat me.” You groan, spreading your legs even more. Chanyeol licks his lips as he moves your panties to the side, spreading your lips before he licks a strip up your wet pussy.
Fuck
“Mhmm.” Chanyeol groans, latching his lips to your clit. You back arches as he continues to lick and suck on your clit. Your eyes are closed as you feel him reach up, grabbing your tits, squeezing as he devours you. Your toes curl as he moves his mouth quicker, your hands make their way to his hair, gripping tightly as you push his face deeper into you, grinding your cunt on his face.
“Oh my fucking God.” You cry out, your orgasm building quickly. “Shit, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum.” You whimper just as your orgasm hits you, your eyes roll back into your head as your body works through the pure fucking euphoria you were feeling. Chanyeol takes one last slurp as he stands up, his rock hard cock pressing against his jeans.
He gives you a cocky smile as you sit up, your head spinning uncontrollably. “Wow.” You whisper, sliding off the table and down to your knees. You fumble with the button of his pants for a second before you get it undone, yanking his jeans and boxers down, letting his cock spring free.
You grab the base of him with your hand, licking the precum from his tip, before letting him shove his cock down your throat, as far as he could. You gag on him as he grips your hair. He thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, tears falling down your cheeks, making your mascara run.
“Your fucking mouth feels so fucking good.” He groans, giving you one more hard thrust, before pulling his cock out. “I don't want to cum yet.” He breathes. You stand up, staring at him, he takes his thumb, smearing your mascara even more.
“Fuck that's hot.” he groans, bending you over the table. He stands behind you, his hard hands on your hips as he lines himself up with your entrance, his large cock stretching you out.
You cry out loudly as he shoves himself into you as far as he can go. He slowly pulls himself out before slamming back into you. Chanyeol grabs your hair, taking a clump in his hand to pull your head back before picking up his pace. His cock slams into you, hitting the perfect spot to build up another orgasm
“Right there, fuck, don't stop.” You scream. He lets go of your hair, pushing your head down, pressing your face into the table as he rams into you.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” He groans, not slowing down. Your apartment fills with the sounds of your skin slapping together, moans coming from both of you. The smell of sex and sweat filled the air as you came all over his cock, tightening your pussy around him. He pounds into you for a few more seconds before he finishes, releasing his cum inside of you.
He stands with his cock still inside you for a few seconds, both of you catching your breath. He pulls out of you, asking where the bathroom was. You continue to lay on the table, pointing in a direction, you weren't quite sure which one but he'd find it. You couldn't move, your legs didn't want to work right now. When he came out, he chuckled at you still laying against the table.
“Need some help?” He asks.
“please.” you half laugh. “I'm weak.”
Chanyeol laughs, scooping you up, taking you to your room, that he saw on the way to the bathroom. He laid you in your bed, covering you up with your blanket. He grabs your phone doing something quickly with it before pulling out his phone. He looks at it briefly, furrowing his brows.
“I gotta go, but I'll text you.” He smiles. You nod your head, your eyes already closed. chanyeol leans down, placing a small kiss on your lips before heading out.
Fuck you wished he'd stay.
#exowritersnet#park chanyeol#exo chanyeol#chanyeol#chanyeol smut#exo smut#baekhyun#kai#kyungsoo#sehun#college au#smut#protective chanyeol#stalker
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friday nights || byun baekhyun
1:34 AM 250424
word count: longer than i expected
pairing: byun baekhyun x reader (ft. im changkyun)
description:��baekhyun ignores you for an entire week, and you don't know why.
genre: bestfriends to lovers!au, jealous!baekhyun, mutual pining, angst-ish, fluff after lmao
a/n: kinda rushed ending (?) lmk if you guys want a part 2 or a longer version!
You and Baekhyun have been best friends ever since you both got stood up by your dates on prom night. You vividly remember Baekhyun's reaction as your dates began making out in the middle of the dancefloor, leaving you both partnerless — and almost miserable. So, you invited him that exact moment to ditch the night and have some fun of your own, basically and invitation to sit on the gutter as you eat your melting ice cream.
But, that was a story for another time - now you’re in your third year of college. Your friendship’s been that long, and you swore, the last time you checked, the platonic energy between the both of you was almost tangible. Although you had a moments when romantic thoughts about him invaded your mind.
You swore it were mere milliseconds, though – and that you didn't think about how his hands could perfectly fit in yours and, how sweet his lips would've tasted like. Nothing of that sort, really. You knew that the both of you were awfully platonic, and nothing more. You didn't want to entertain thoughts of you and him together romantically, because it would never happen. Plus, you went out on a date last week.
You and Changkyun were totally hitting it off. And you would've told Baekhyun about him, but he's been ignoring you for the past 5 days. No calls, texts, nothing. Everytime you'd visit him on his breaks, he's always be out, or busy, or just not in the mood — which rarely happened.
So, you planned to corner him into telling you what's wrong. You really had no clue, but you've got a feeling that it had something to do with you. It was your break, and you checked your phone for Baekhyun's schedule. You both exchanged schedules the beginning of the semester, which is also probably why he'd been successful in avoiding you.
There was an overlap between your schedules. His class would end at around the same time as yours would start. But you were really determined to know what the hell's wrong you could just be late to class for a couple of minutes. And after a long, painful wait — catch him, you did.
He walked out with two of his friends, who you knew as Minseok and Jongdae. It was Minseok who spotted you first. He called Baekhyun and pointed at your direction.
"Hey, Y/N." Minseok waved at you, and so did Jongdae. You smiled and waved back as Baekhyun's eyes widened.
"Go on first, I'll catch up later." He told his friends, his eyes avoiding your gaze. The two walked off after saying goodbye.
"What are you doing here?" Baekhyun held your arm, gently pulling you to the side.
"You were avoiding me for a week, what's up?" You asked, eyeing him carefully. He reached to the nape of his neck. He removed his cap, fixed his hair, and put it back again.
"I... wasn't avoiding you," he said, still avoiding your eyes. You weren't convinced, so you pulled his face to meet yours.
"There, see!" you exclaimed, "you avoided my eyes again. What's wrong, Baek?"
"Nothing," he muttered. He glanced down his wristwatch, and urged you to move. "You're literally five minutes late to your class, get moving dumbass."
"No, I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's wrong. Is it something I said? or did? Or, like, did something happen to your family? Come on, talk to me, don't shut me out like this."
You were honestly nervous, you feared that the friendship you had would be gone in a blink if you didn't do this.
Baekhyun sighed, and met your eyes. You heart dropped to your stomach. It felt different from his usual teasing glints, there were hints of longing. His eyes glossed a little, eyes bloodshot red. You immediately reached to his face, and his eyes closed and he leaned to your touch.
"Baek," you sighed softly, "have you not been sleeping?"
"Mmhm," Baekhyun hummed, hand on top of your hand on his cheek. "Let's...talk later." His eyes met yours this time.
You nodded with a soft, gentle smile. "Of course. Come over later? Let's watch a movie tonight." Your thumb ghosted over his cheek.
"But that's for Friday?"
You swore you saw Baekhyun frown a little from the loss of touch as you retreat your hand from his cheek, but you decided you were just crazy and that it wasn't like that.
You shrug, hands on your pocket. "We could do it like, two days earlier, it's fine."
"Why? So you could ditch on me and go on a date again?" He blurted out.
You audibly gasp, earning stares from passerbys. Your hand flew to your open mouth. "What do you mean? I didn't ditch you, I asked you if it was okay and you said yes!"
"I didn't!"
"You did! I even have the text messages here if you need refreshments, dude."
"Don't dude me, Y/N," Baekhyun groaned, rubbing his face roughly. It was an a look of frustration, and you felt it was directed to you.
"Is this why you're mad at me? Because you thought I ditched you?" Your voice slightly trembled. Now you were frustrated and confused.
"No!" he abruptly said, "No, I'm - I'm not mad at you, I just, Friday nights are for us," You internally winced, because you took that in way that isn't how friends should take it as.
"And you — "
"Baekhyun-ah!" You both looked at the direction of the voice. It was Junmyeon who called out with a smile as he approached you. "Oh hey, Y/N, what's up?"
You smiled and tried to push the argument you just had at the back of your mind. "Hi, oppa."
Baekhyun sighed, "What's wrong, hyung?"
"I couldn't find Chanyeol, he told me he'd be with you." Junmyeon's lips parted a lottle, "Did I interrupt you guys?"
"Yeah, we're kinda bu—" You interrupted Baekhyun.
"We just finished talking, oppa," you glance at your watch to avoid Baekhyun's intense gaze. "I have to get to class, I'm suuuper late. See you later!" You waved Junmyeon goodbye, and turned away quickly.
You hear Baekhyun call to you as the distance grew farther. You didn't want to lose Baekhyun over a fight like this, especially when you thought of him in a different light yet again.
~ • ~
Baekhyun's heart broke a little as he looked at you walk away. He let out a heavy sigh as he massaged his eyebrows.
Junmyeon noticed. "Are you good?"
Baekhyun looked up at him and nodded yes. Junmyeon was not convinced though, but he decided not to push it. "Come on, let's meet them."
Baekhyun stayed silent. He moved on autopilot, basically just following Junmyeon's footsteps — but not before looking back to the place you once stood at.
The guys laughed loudly in the middle of the restaurant. Baekhyun and Junmyeon settled down, "Did you get food already?" asked Junmyeon.
"We ordered pasta and pizza, you could order more if you want to, though," Minseok said. "It's Jongdae's treat for missing the last get together."
"Nice."
The guys continued to talk, and joke around. Food kept arriving at their table, and everyone dug in except Baekhyun. He was staring at nothing, just picking on his food with a fork.
"Hyung, are you okay?" Jongin nudged Baekhyun. He looked up, and forced a smile.
"Yeah, of course." There was a moment of silence before Chanyeol broke the ice.
"You guys remember Changkyun?” He asked. Baekhyun’s ears perked up, the name was familiar. Too familiar, in fact. His eyebrows knitted tightly, he couldn’t help it.
“What about him?” Sehun popped a fry in his mouth. Lay tilted his head slightly.
“He’s throwing a party tonight, he invited us.”
“What’s his business inviting us? We don’t even know him,” Baekhyun bitterly spat and did not go unnoticed by his friends.
Chanyeol and Junmyeon exchanged glances with Kyungsoo, who sighed and said, “We can just not go, it’s not a big deal.”
Baekhyun just drew a big sigh and ruffled his hair. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He’d been so bothered about you dating other guys, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t even tell it to you directly.
After all, you both agreed on staying strictly platonic after having witnessed your sister and her then bestfriend get married and divorced on the same year.
“What’s with you, Hyung? You rarely act this way,” Jongin asked, eyes full of concern.
Sehun snickered, “He always acts this way whenever a certain someone’s involved.”
Minseok hummed in agreement. Baekhyun groaned as Kyungsoo spoke, “You mean Y/N?”
“Precisely,” Sehun confirmed with a smirk.
“Aren’t you strictly platonic?” Jongdae asked.
“Yes.” Sadly.
“Huh, so why are you jealous?” Kyungsoo asked.
“I am not jealous.” Lie.
“You definitely are.”
“I’m not.” Yes, he was.
“You like her, don’t you?”
“What?” Yes.
“You do!”
“What are you even —“
“Someone’s got a crush —!”
“I—“
“Just admit it, Hyung!”
“N —“
“Baekhyun —“
“I love her, damn it!”
Silence filled the table. Everyone suddenly laughed out loud after his outburst — they knew you got Baekhyun fucked up in the head and they love to see it.
Now, Baekhyun’s admitted it and there was no going back. He had avoided saying it for the longest time for the fear of it “coming true” when he knew that he had no say in his feelings from the get-go.
“Just tell her, confess, do something,” Kyungsoo said.
“That’s easier said than done.”
“Would you rather lose her to Changkyun?” Lay suddenly spoke up. Baekhyun looked at him, and he knew his hyung made a point. He had to do something.
~ • ~
Time went by fast, and it's been two days since you last saw Baekhyun. Still, no calls nor texts from Baekhyun. You were beginning to doubt your decision of avoiding the conversation — you start to think that you should've let him finish talking before walking out like that.
Is he gonna drop by tonight? It's literally friday, its — its your movie night. Or is he never gonna talk to you, and you end up losing the love of your life?
Wait, no. He's your bestfriend, so you love him, right? Its that kind of love that's purely platonic, isn't it? Plus, you had a date! And you totally hit it off, you swore to god.
Okay, maybe you lied. You and Changkyun were bonding over relationship traumas instead of building up a new relationship. You both had a cup of sweet tea, but the conversations you had left a bitter taste in both your mouths.
Changkyun also mentioned someone he liked, and was in fact, asking for advice. That's why you both set another date for tomorrow, solely for the sake of advices. Besides, you also enjoyed complaining to him about Baekhyun's annoying habits that you secretly liked.
You then pace back and forth, probably hyperventilating and on the verge of another panic attack. You bite on your nails as you watched a late night game show, or atleast tried to watch.
You couldn't focus on it. You sat down, your knees bounced up and down. So you stood, but you kept pacing back and forth. And you'd look at the television, but would later find yourself starting at the clock. You were so immersed that you failed to notice the numerous missed phone calls.
Until the door bell rang. You sprinted towards the door, opened it in one motion.
And there he was, holding a bouquet of roses. He offered a sheepish smile, and offered up the bouquet.
You didn't even realize you've been holding your breath 'til you saw him on your doorstep. You immediately engulfed him with a hug, your tears threatening to spill.
He hugged you back as he buried his face at the crook of your neck. You missed his scent, so much.
You pulled away, "I - I thought you wouldn't — "
He cut you off, "Don't go."
You look at him, confused. You wipe your tear-stained cheeks, settling your hands on his biceps. "What? What do you mean?"
"On that date," he said, eyes intensely on yours. "Don't go on that date, please."
"Well, that's for tomorrow still, I —"
"No, you don't understand. I," Baekhyun took a deep breath. "I don't just mean tonight. I mean, don't ever go on a date with another man. Please."
You were speechless as you watched Baekhyun frown in thought, trying to compose what he wanted to say.
“I,” he paused. He looked his shoes, and licked his lips in anticipation. “I get livid when I think of another man touching you, or holding your hands, and the mere thought of you kissing someone else makes me go insane, you have no idea.
“My heart races when our fingers touch, and I can’t help but want to kiss you when you do something childish. Or when you cry because of a stupid movie — I want to grow old with you, sit under a tree and watch as our children run across the fields. I — I love you. For the longest time, I’ve loved you. I love you, Y/N.”
You were speechless and shaking. Here was the man you longed for, confessing his love to you — and you couldn’t believe it. Your jaw drops, and he looked at you with great intent.
“I love you, too,” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You dumb idiot, what took you so long? I kept it all in, I waited for you for so long! I —“
He captured your lips with his in the softest way possible. A moment lingers as he pulled away,
“I’m sorry for making you wait, Y/N. I —“
You pull him back in, deepening the kiss as you hook your arms around his neck — bodies flushed against each other. He dropped the bouquet, and put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.
“Shut up and kiss me, baby.” You said in between breaths and kisses.
#bbh net#byun baekhyun#exo baekhyun#exo fanfic#exo#exo junmyeon#exo chanyeol#exo jongdae#exo scenarios#exo imagines#baekhyun x you#baekhyun x reader#college au
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Chapter 13: Forgotten
Thana had never felt more isolated than she did now. She knew it was her own doing—her decision to retreat into herself, her own inability to forgive and forget.
Liam’s move to the second squad hit her harder than she’d anticipated. She knew that it was all part of Xaden’s plan to keep Violet alive but, she could not comprehend or accept why he had to do so. Every day, she watched Liam and Violet—laughing, studying, even training together—doing all the things he and Thana used to do.
Her training with Garrick had also tapered off. She had no idea where he spent his time anymore—mostly with Imogen, she gathered. His quiet affection had turned to fleeting moments between his endless responsibilities, one of which involved helping Imogen to train Violet. She slowly saw herself being edged out by someone that she alone saw as the enemy.
Thana’s refuge had become the library. In the back corner, by the stained glass window, where the light filtered in just so, casting colorful hues across the worn wooden tables. She had stolen a tome of folklore stories from the library cart and was immersed in the tale her father used to read to her as a child. The rhythmic lilt of his voice echoed in her mind as she read it over and over again. A story about a heroine who saved a burning kingdom.
Her fingers brushed over the brittle pages, each word bringing back painful reminders of her father. Of what she had lost, of what he was missing.
Before she could finish the story, the sound of scurrying footsteps interrupted her. A cadet from the Scribe Quadrant, Jessina, hovered nervously close by, clearly waiting for her chance to grab the book and return it to the shelf.
Thana slid the book across the table, and Jessina snatched it up before disappearing into the maze of shelves. Thana watched her go, her heart heavy as she let the silence fall back around her.
"What's that all about?" a voice asked.
Thana looked up to find Ruari standing closeby, leaning against one of the shelves with a smirk. He was the only person she’d been able to rely on lately, the only one who seemed to have the patience or desire to spend any time with her.
"Just doing her job," Thana replied with a small laugh, a forced lightness to her voice.
Ruari raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press. He stepped closer. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, and Thana motioned for him to do so with a nod.
They shared a few moments of silence, the air comfortable between them. The absence of words didn’t feel like a weight but rather like a safe space where nothing needed to be said. They could just be.
Ruari broke the quiet first, his voice warm but playful. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Thana.”
Her lips curved into a small smile at that. “I’m sure you haven’t.”
“You’ve got a way of making everything seem… more interesting. Even folklore,” Ruari continued, his gaze softening as he glanced at the book in front of her that she had taken from the shelves a few weeks ago and didn’t have the willingness to return. “How’d you end up with that one?”
Thana hesitated, thinking back to her father. Her chest tightened. “My father used to read it to me… when I was younger. Before…” She swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in her eyes.
Ruari’s expression softened with understanding. He didn’t push, didn’t ask for more than she was willing to give. The way he respected her space, letting her share only what she wanted to, made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: safe.
They continued to talk in hushed tones—about classes, about training, about their future, if there was one. But with each word that passed between them, Thana found herself missing her friends, even Xaden, though she couldn’t bring herself to face him now. They were slipping away, and she wasn’t sure how to stop it.
Ruari, with his quiet strength and gentle teasing, felt like the only constant at the moment. He said things that made her laugh, distracted her from the trap that was her own mind mind. At one point, his eyes softened, and he said, “I like spending time with you, Thana.”
The words, simple as they were, hit her harder than she expected. She liked spending time with him too. He was kind, easy to be around, and made her forget, even for a moment, that she was falling into a pit of her own making.
But as much as she appreciated his company, it was hard not to think of the gaping void where Liam should be. Thana’s thoughts drifted to the way he’d been with Violet earlier, looking so at ease in her presence. He hadn’t looked that way with her in weeks.
She tried to push the thought away, tried to focus on Ruari, on the comfort he provided, but it was impossible not to notice the growing distance between her and the people she cared about.
Her musings were interrupted by a sudden burst of laughter from the doorway. She glanced up, her heart sinking when she saw Liam and Violet standing together, their heads bent in whispered conversation. Violet was laughing, leaning in closer to Liam, who—despite his obvious affection for her—flashed a glance at Thana and gave a small wave.
Thana forced a smile, the hollow feeling in her chest spreading like a disease. She wanted to scream, to ask him why he didn’t resent her, why he didn’t hate her mere existence. But all she could do was watch them, the friendship forming between them like a slap across her face.
Ruari noticed her reaction, his brows furrowing in concern. “Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on the table, “you ok?”
Thana looked at him, her smile still tight. “I’m fine. Just…” She couldn’t find the words to explain what she felt, so instead, she lied. “I’m fine.”
She glanced at the two of them again, her chest tightening as she saw Liam smile more brightly at Violet, his gaze lingering on her in a way that only deepened the gnawing ache in Thana’s heart. He found Violet interesting, Thana could tell, he liked spending time with her.
Ruari, sensing the shift in her mood, leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” he offered.
Thana shook her head, pushing herself out of her chair. “No, it’s okay. I’ll walk myself.”
She shoved the tome under her jacket before making her way toward the door, taking the long way to avoid Liam and Violet. The hallway seemed longer than it ever had before, the silence in her footsteps deafening. The air around her felt thick and she couldn’t shake the sense that the world around her was fading.
By the time she reached the door to her room, everything went black.
~
Thana awoke with a sharp throb in her head, the pain blinding. She could feel the cold, damp floor beneath her, and as her vision cleared, she realized she was not in her room. She was somewhere that felt far away, the walls cracked and damp, the air heavy with an unnatural chill.
And there, sitting beside her, stroking her hair with a soft, tender touch, was her mother.
Thana’s breath caught in her throat as the haunting, sinister melody filled the air, her mother singing in that eerie, melodic tone she’d always used when Thana was small, when she would try to lull her to sleep. But now, the song felt wrong—too familiar, too unsettling.
Her mother’s hollow eyes met hers, devoid of warmth, and the suffocating silence that followed was almost worse than the song.
#Fourth Wing#Fourth Wing Fan Fic#Thana Valaren#Violet Sorrengail#Xaden Riorson#Rhiannon Matthias#Liam Mairi#Ridoc Gamlyn#Exo Halt#Sawyer Henrick#Ruari Hawke#Dain Aetos#Garrick Tavis#Imogen Caludo#Bohdi Durran#Dragons#Deigh#Sgaeyl#Tairn#Andarna#Valka#Basgiath#Basgiath War College#Dragon Riders#Riders Quadrant#Xaden Riorson Fan Fic#Garrick Tavis Fan Fic#Liam Mairi Fan Fic
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What we did in the library | Pcy
Park Chanyeol x fem!reader
College!AU
Enemies to lovers!AU
Plot:you and your academic rival,the hot and smart Park Chanyeol,meet at the library by accident,but none of you could’ve predicted what happened
Warnings:smut,dom!Chanyeol,daddy kink,nicknames,unprotected sex (don’t do this at home!!),18+
Masterlist
Tumblr works with reposts:if you enjoyed my story please repost and leave a feedback! Help me growing!♡
“I craved you so much that I ended up hating you”
Term time,also known as the period in which students lock themselves in their dormitories and spend nights studying. Literature,latin,metric,composition:your brain was jumping from a notion to another,all at once,while walking to the library. You did not have a single second to take a break from studying and revising,not that you wanted to. You were behind on your studies for your standards,and you hated it since you had semester finals.
With a fast movement of your hand you opened the door of the library and walked towards the so called “oldie”,the former area of the building in which no one used to study anymore. Your colleagues loved the new wing more:it was fresh and brighter.
You sat at your usual spot,putting your books and pens on the table before analysing the passage from Apuleius’ Metamorphosis that you were preparing for your latin test.
You loved the “oldie”:silence used to rule there,and the smell of aged books relaxed your mind,helping you focusing.
Nothing could go wrong there,you thought,it was a kind of safe place for you;so you didn’t expect to meet there the last person you wanted to see.
That one who,out of all the students of your well known college,gave you hives:Park Chanyeol. But there he was.
He opened the door and stood on the entrance in all his cocky magnificence and nauseous overconfidence. His eyes immediately set on you and a smirk of amusement appeared on his lips.
“Y/l/n,what a surprise” he talked
You glared at him:“I’d call it misfortune more than surprise”
The tall boy laughed “Never missing a chance to get on my nerves I see”
“Never missing a chance to get on mine”
“That’s how things work I guess” he shrugged his shoulders and sat a few tables away from you.
You shook your head and went back to studying,pretending that the boy wasn’t there;which worked for a while,but then,after one or two hours,you realised that his eyes were fixed on you.
Chanyeol’s expression was different,odd you would say:he seemed lost in his thoughts as he kept spinning a pen in between his fingers.
You tried to ignore him,but it was hard,so at a certain point you just called him out:
“Take a picture,it will last longer” you spat out the first thing that crossed your mind,making the brunette smile in amusement
“I didn’t even see you,I was repeating the lesson mentally. You’re not that relevant” he jerked
“You didn’t think the same when I got higher grades than yours during last session”
“I did the same the session before. Don’t brag too much little thing”
A soar expression appeared on your face,but you decided to not give in anymore
“I have no time to waste with you”
“Me neither princess”
A tsk escaped your lips as you went back to reading your textbook,but,suddenly,you couldn’t focus.
“…little thing…”
“…princess…”
His raspy voice was suddenly echoing in your head,making your stomach tingle while thinking at those nicknames he had given you earlier. What was going on? Why couldn’t you get him out of your mind?
You hissed nervously,gaining Chanyeol’s attention once again
“What’s up princess? Is Apuleius too hard to study for your bright mind?” he teased you,his chin resting on his hand while the pen was spinning again in between the fingers of his left hand.
You looked at the object moving,licked your lips,and then glared at the boy:
“You wish,but as always it’s just your presence getting on my nerves”
Chanyeol smiled and stood up,abandoning his spot to walk towards you. Your body stiffened,but the brunette didn’t care and just sat on your table,moving your books aside. A pencil fell,followed by a few highlighters.
“Am I only getting on your nerves or am I working you up?” his fingers grabbed your chin,pulling you closer. Then,his eyes chained with yours and he bit his bottom lip,staring at you with such a deep glare that seemed he was investigating your soul.
You didn’t know how to react:you went blank for a second. You felt lost in his dark pupils,and the warmth of his breath took you off,but then you backed up,pushing Chanyeol away.
“Stop distracting me” you mumbled
“Distracting you?”
“Yeah”
“Little thing,if only you knew how much distracting you’re to me”
At those words your heart skipped a bit and your lower belly tingled:it was that damn raspy voice;but…why was that idiot suddenly acting in such a way? You were both engaged and confused.
Chanyeol saw your lashes flutter and your face flush as he got closer,brushing the skin of your cheek with his soft lips. You gripped the cloth of your plaid skirt.
“I know you like it” he whispered
“How-how you do?” your voice was trembling and low,even Chanyeol could barely hear it
“If you didn’t,you would’ve already left. But you want it too,don’t you,little thing? his fingers caressed your cheek. You could feel the coldness of his rings sending shivers along your back.
You didn’t answer,you just looked at Chanyeol with deer eyes. It was accidental,but he got turned on.
“Don’t look at me like that” his breath was slowly getting shorter
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to eat you” he said and with that his lips collided with yours.
You startled,you would’ve never imagined that something like whatever was going could happen with Park Chanyeol:there had always been such a strong rivalry between the two of you that you never actually thought about being intimate with him,but…you liked it so,why would you stop?
Chanyeol cupped your face with his big hands,brushing his thumb against your skin:it was his way of telling you to stay calm,he had gotten you.
The fingers nervously holding onto your skirt moved to his thighs,going up to his waist until they grabbed the cloth of his black vest.
You closed your eyes and relaxed into the kiss,feeling your body heating up anytime Chanyeol added more passion;until his hand slipped on the back of your head and the gentle kiss turned into a mess of moans.
The boy’s lips moved to the angle of your mouth,then to your chin,until they reached your neck;he left a few wet kisses,but then,as you pushed him closer to your skin,he started sucking and biting.
One,two,three times:suddenly you had hickeys all over your neck. You moaned again,panting while feeling Chanyeol smiling
“You want me so bad” he whispered to your hear,his hands slid on your hips,holding them tightly. It sent you over the clouds.
“But you want me too…” you trembled while pronouncing those words:if you had never had any problem in biting back when talking to Chanyeol,suddenly you felt unable to do it. You were completely overwhelmed by desire.
“I do babygirl,you can’t even imagine” his hands started unbuttoning your blouse,which immediately fell on the ground.
The boy looked at you with lusty eyes, then he took his shirt off as well and lifted you up. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders,caressing his soft skin with your fingers,before finding yourself sitting on the table with Chanyeol’s waist in between your legs.
You looked at him,he looked at you,and started kissing you again,more roughly this stime:
“You’re so damn pretty” he whispered,biting the lobe of your ear. You could feel the bulge in his trousers:he was completely turned on,and so you were.
Chanyeol’s fingers drew a line along your legs,until they reached your thighs where they slightly squeezed your flash while following their way to your underwear. Chanyeol made the joint of your panties snap a little before touching the cloth covering your entrance.
“You’re already so wet” he smirked,brushing the knuckle of his index up and down,teasing you.
You suffocated a moan,resting your forehead against Chanyeol’s
“I can’t anymore” your voice was so small as you tried to close your thighs,but you couldn’t;all you could do was stroking them against the boy’s hips.
Chanyeol’s hand gently grabbed your face,his thumb resting on you lips while his eyes filled with desire were staring at your flushed face.
“Look at you,all undone for me-he bit his lip-you’re such a turn on. So pretty” and said so he moved your panties aside,sliding his fingers inside you.
A loud whine escaped your mouth before your mind was completely blown by how the boy was pleasing you so well. You threw you head back,holding onto the boy’s shoulders,before he pushed your back against the table in order to tower you.
Your hair all spread on the surface while your moans filled the air,making Chanyeol more and more horny. He wanted to fuck you so bad that he couldn’t hold on anymore.
“Good girl,don’t stop,I wanna hear you” he whispered in your hear,his raspy voice was back at it,but you could now feel how impatient he had become.
“Yeol,fuck me” you whined,eyes shut while his fingers were still moving inside you,hitting the right spot
“What’s the magic word,babygirl?”
“Please. Please fuck me” you repeated,your breath stuck in your throat
“I will babygirl. Your daddy will fuck you so well”
Another moan escaped your mouth before you reached your climax. You breathed out for a second,watching Chanyeol unzipping his trousers.
He grabbed you by the hips,sliding your body closer;he kissed your lips one more time,then,finally,he gave you what you were asking for.
He started thrusting inside you,his head thrown back in pleasure while a moan after another escaped his mouth:what a nice sound to your hears.
“Look at you,taking me so well. Good girl” he panted
“Please. I-I want more,daddy”
“Fuck” Chanyeol’s thrusts became rougher. It hurt at the beginning,but soon all you could feel was pleasure.
The boy left a few more hickeys on your shoulders and collarbone before his movements got sloppier.
He was close and so were you. You moaned again,followed by the boy who reached his climax a few seconds before you.
“Oh God…” your whole body was burning,while Chanyeol was panting.
He looked at you from above,sliding a hand between his messy hair before holding onto the table and rest his head on your shoulder
“I craved you so much that I ended up hating you” he whispered,kissing your soft skin one more time.
#park chanyeol#chanyeol#exo#park chanyeol x reader#chanyeol x reader#chanyeol x you#exo x y/n#exo x reader#exo x you#byun baekhyun#chanyeol fic#chanyeol fanfic#kpop smut#smut#exo smut#college au#exo imagines
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taking a pause between professional and Zine work to doodle my fav from Rising! Literally everything about Pandora may change before the final release, but personally I love her (kind of terrifying) weird face. I do hope she gets an actual voice actor though.
#For people wondering where all my projects went: college + job + recent cold I have not been able to get much personal work out there#Or even be online all that much#Rising is nice because I can play it while waiting places so it is nice enrichment for my enclosure#I'm so behind on Rising's story#Destiny: rising#Destiny exo#destiny fanart#destiny Pandora-7
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Pairing: (EXO) Sehun x OC
Genre: 1950's AU, collegeAU!, romance, glow up vibes, used to be invisible and now he's not, tres confused Sehun
Summary: It's Summer and Sehun's hormones have hit him just in time to be the new flavour of the season at Baltimore college. Its a shame he's only got eyes for OC.
Note: Does this count as a story? Drabble? Idk, I'm trying to write but I get bored and only write the fun parts of the ideas I have 🫠 Are they really jarring to read because there's basically no context? Will I keep writing anyway? Yeh, probably.
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It's 1954 and the war is over. The TV box is in colour and an Englishman has conquered the tallest mountain in the world. Sehun's parents have tentatively agreed to take out the new 'credit card' and kids around high-school have been passing around the first ever Playboy magazine. Sehun has filled out from his small frame to a tall lean-meat stature - and he thinks he's in love.
She's sitting one row in front of him and summer break starts today.
He hasn't said a stitch of a word to her.
Paper ticks off his hand, landing on his desk. Mr Miller is droning on about how its important to keep studying over the summer and when he has his back turned to the class, Sehun opens the note.
'So you gunna talk to her before school's out?'
Baekhyun's scrawl is spidery across the page. Sehun subtly turns his body, forehead leaning against his hand and mouths in exasperation that he doesn't know. His eyes drop back to her in front of him, helpless. The sun reflects off the curve of her cheek and her pencil scratches satisfyingly on her paper - she had given her pompom biro to the exchange student next to her to use.
A great gust of air whooshes past his lips and he feels like his heart has been hit by a truck in the best way possible. Clearly, his face says this too because he sees his so called friend doing something nefarious from the corner of his eye. Baekhyun's miming a rather violent whipping motion at Sehun that gets more and more exaggerated, really, the guy is putting his whole back into it, until a stick of chalk absolutely decimates him straight between the eyes like a homing missile. Sehun turns to the source of it, to see the tip of Mr Miller's nose red, and the rest of the class guffawing at poor Baekhyun who is silently but theatrically communicating the loss of one of his eyes on the floor.
Even she turns to see what the fuss is about and barely smothers her smile behind a dainty hand. Her smile is contagious. Sehun finds himself giving a low and short chuckle, staring straight at her. He doesn't expect her eyes to flicker to him before she lets out a real giggle, as if he was the reason she couldn't control herself. Didn't his sister's stupid magazines say something about when you're laughing in a group, you look at the person you're most attracted to? The mirth in Sehun's eyes suddenly dissolves and his expression goes blank, studying her. She goes serious too.
Oh boy. He was done for.
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AN: Constructive criticism always welcome!
#exo fanfic#Exo fanfiction#kpop fanfic#sehun#exo sehun#oh sehun#Sehun x oc#romance#college au#1950s au#fluff#Fanfiction#fanfic
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His Words Are Pretty - Waking Up (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1385181346-his-words-are-pretty-waking-up?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=AndleyXxKellic&wp_originator=gowBFIUXC0a3hMjvXlNhnaZM%2Fo4FzHiLWMWwIte8tQ5tPfu8QSZmixqKjZPhWjethYj0j6wEmtZ62twf6k5X04xuKjNRNb%2FtDvQRndtVkREMOlkcrnxO%2BN8c4dc7ANQY Growing up isn't supposed to be that hard; you have to do it. The only problem was him. Every. Word. I. Held. On. To. I shouldn't have listened, but how could I not? His voice. Those words. Only one word comes to mind.
#badboy#blackpink#bts#btsfanfic#college#exo#exofanfic#fandom#fanfiction#jennie#jenniekim#jenniexkai#jenniextaehyung#jong-in#jongin#kai#kaiexo#kpop#kpopfanfic#kpopidols#lovestory#lovetriangle#taehyung#trauma#romance#books#wattpad#amreading
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(Chankai) Play of the Game
Jongin has the worst friends. Chanyeol has tattoos. (This wasn't part of the script).
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Update
Hi all!
If anyone is interested, I have another page on Tumblr named Emery May and on Ko-Fi! I used to write a lot before I went to college, and now that it's been a year or so since I graduated, finding a job is tough right now, and I would appreciate some support. However, I've been thinking of pursuing my passion for writing and blogging full-time since November of this year, so that's why I haven't been as active here. I want to! I also created a community here called 23 Generation for second and third-generation Korean fans, so if you all want to hop over there as well, you are more than welcome to. I hope to expand my writing and document my journey to eventually vlog and see where life takes me cause I'm clueless right now. ✨
But, yeah, I just wanted to hop on and make my presence known.🤗
#khiphop#korean#kpop#writing#ko-fi#community#healing#self care#exo#shinee#reddy#simon dominic#college#nafla#dpr live
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Obsession (2)
Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader
Warning: Stalking, Threatening, Launguage
Word Count: 3.8k
Part One
It had been a little over a week since you and Chanyeol fucked, and it had been radio silence. You had hoped he would have texted you by now, but you didn't want to come across as that needy girl. So you kept it cool, until you couldn't keep that cool any longer.
“Oh my god!” Jennie yells. “Did you hear the latest news?” She asks, rolling her eyes. You had been invited for a night out at Baekhyun's apartment with everyone in your new friends group. You had partially expected Chanyeol to have been there and when he wasn't you were disappointed. You liked him and wanted you get to know him more, you also wouldn't have minded fucking around with him again.
“What!?” Lisa asks. Everyone was intently staring at Jennie, impatiently waiting to hear what she had to say.
“A little birdy told me that Chanyeol and Maya got back together.” She says, trying to stifle a giggle. Every single person that sat around Baekhyun's living room table groaned so loudly. Sehun, Baekhyun and Jisoo started fake sobbing, Jongin threw his head back in frustration, Lisa started to pretend to gag, while Kyungsoo began muttering about how he had to go back to avoiding Chanyeol.
You, on the other hand, sat there in complete shock. He had a girlfriend? How long has this been going on?
“What's wrong with her?” You ask, glancing at the dramatic group around the table.
“Let's just say, Maya is..” Baekhyun pauses.
“Insufferable.” Kyungsoo sighs.
“Stuck up.” Jisoo adds.
“Fucking annoying.” Lisa says.
“She's like the worst possible human in the world.” Jongin says. “I don't know how he puts up with her.”
You nod your head, you didn't have anything else to say. You felt hurt and confused. Your hands played with the full shot glass that sat in front of you. Just as Sehun was about to say something, the front door opens and in walks Chanyeol with a big smile on his face.
“Hey guys, what are we talking about?” He asks, plopping down on the floor, across the table from where you and Jongin sat. You felt the anger bubble up inside of you, and even though you had planned on saying nothing, words came out of your mouth.
“Oh, just talking about how you have a girlfriend.” You say, looking up at Chanyeol, staring him in the eyes. They go wide, as if he's a deer in headlights.
“Oh, uh.” He chuckles. “Yeah, surprise, Maya and I got back together.” He says, looking away from you to avoid eye contact. You continued to stare at him, you hoped he could feel your stare burning into him.
“But why?” Baekhyun asks. “Why would you do that?”
“What's wrong with her?” Chanyeol laughs.
You were uncomfortable. You were sad, mad, annoyed. Every emotion was felt right at this moment, and it was like Jongin could sense it. He moved closer to you, putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him. He turns his head to whisper in your ear. “You okay?” He asks. You continued to look at Chanyeol who was now eyeing up you and Jongin, trying to process why his arm was around you.
“Uh huh.” You whisper back, breaking off the eye contact with Chanyeol. You gave Jongin a small half smile, hoping he would stop questioning you but that didn’t work. For the next 45 minutes, every few minutes you would catch Jongin looking at you, you could tell that he was questioning how quiet you were, wondering why and why you wouldn't tell him. You’d finally had enough social interaction for the night and decided to go.
“I’m going to head out right away.” you announce. “Just using the bathroom first.” you finish, walking towards the bathroom. You stepped outside to see Chanyeol standing outside the bathroom door, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.
“You’re ignoring me.” he says, looking over at you.
“You have a girlfriend.” you say back. “Were you together..when..” you pause.
“No!” he exclaims. “No.. I, uh, met up with her afterwards. That's who had texted me..and we got back together that night.” he finishes. You can feel the tears threatening to fall. You didn’t want to cry over him, it totally wasn't worth it.
“Great, I'm happy for you.” you say, walking away from him. You grab your jacket, and again, Chanyeol stands in front of you.
“Let me walk you home.” he says, grabbing his jacket.
“Nah man, you stay. I already told her I would take her. Don’t worry, I'll make sure she’s safe.” Jongin says, coming up behind you. He slides his arm around your waist, pulling you towards the door. You were grateful for Jongin, but you really hoped he wasn’t getting the wrong idea. The two of you chatted about anything and everything on your walk, he made you laugh - hard. You continued to laugh all the way to your front door. Unlocking your door, you look at Jongin.
“Thank you.” you smile. “Really.”
“Anytime, Y/N. and look..” he pauses. “I don’t know what's going on between you and Chanyeol, but just know you deserve more.” he finishes, flashing a dazzling smile before starting to walk away.
“Wait!” You call out. He turns around. “You know?” you ask him.
“I had a feeling,” he says. “Good night.” he finishes, walking away. You walk into your apartment, feeling exhausted. You didn't realize how much of a toll this night had taken on you until you laid in your bed. You hadn't even taken your clothes off, but you didn’t have the energy any longer, swiftly falling asleep.
You woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed. As you crawled out of your bed you heard a loud banging at your door. Looking out the peephole, you didn't see anyone there, so you opened up your door, only to see a dozen purple tulips sitting outside your door. A smile spreads across your face as you look for a note.
Miss me yet?
Your smile faded just as fast as it had appeared. You stared at the note, a very uneasy feeling pulsing through your body. You brought the flowers inside, took a deep breath before deciding what you were going to do. You walked into your kitchen, dumping the flowers and the note into the garbage can before heading back to your bed. You'd already had enough for today. All day, you lounged around, your phone was off, you ate and watched shitty movies. You cried, you laughed, you slept. It was the perfect day before classes on Monday, you were dreading them already. You were not taking anything easy, and your entire body was a ball of stress.
Monday you had minimal interaction with anyone, you went to classes, had lunch with the group, went home to study and work on papers and it was the exact same on Tuesday. When Wednesday rolled around, you were so excited. The week was almost done, not to mention the group had decided to do a Friday Friend Dinner every other Friday, and this week it was on. Drinks and good food, you couldn't wait. Kyungsoo was an amazing cook, you often craved his food.
You were walking to your class, when out of nowhere you're yanked to the side. You looked over only to see Mark standing there with a smile on his face.
“Hi baby.” He says, leaning in closely. You try to back up, but you back straight into a pillar. “Did you like the flowers I sent you?” He smiles, moving closer. “I've been waiting all week for you to thank me for them. It hurts me that you haven't done that yet, Y/N.” He finishes, his smile dropping.
“Oh!” You say, forcing a smile. You were trying so hard to not show him any fear even though it was radiating through your entire body. “I didn't realize it was you. There was no name on it. They're so beautiful, Mark, thank you.” You smile. You needed him to calm down and let you go without an issue. You watch his facial expressions, he was getting angrier.
“Who else would they have been from?” He snaps. “Are you seeing someone else?”
You didn't know what to say. He stares at you as the panic sets in. Your body is trembling as he gets closer. You let your instincts take over, pushing him away from you.
“Leave me alone.” You scream. He rushes back towards you, slapping his hand over your mouth, stopping you from screaming anymore. Before you can react, Mark is pulled off of you, thrown down to pavement. You look over to see Chanyeol standing there, huffing as he stares down at Mark.
“Didn't I tell you to keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Chanyeol yells. He goes to you, grabbing your hand to pull you away. He takes you out into the open, and you see a blonde girl standing there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“Chanyeol.” You breathe. “Thank you.”
He looks at you concerned. “Has he been bothering you alot?” He asks.
“No, no. He sent me flowers on Sunday, with a note but no name attached. I guess he was mad that I didn't thank him.” You explain. “I'm sure he's gotten the message now.” You half smile. You were trying to be okay but you weren't. Your body shook, you felt like you were still in shock. You looked over at the girl who looked even more unimpressed with you.
“Hi.” You smile, holding out your hand. “I'm Y/N.” You say.
She scoffs, rolling her eyes. You retracted your hand feeling uncomfortable now. She looks at Chanyeol with a pout. “You let go of my hand to help her, Channie.” She says. “I'm so sad now.”
Chanyeol sighs. “I'm sorry Maya, do you want me to buy you something?” He asks. She perks up, grabbing his hand to pull him away, spewing on about some purse she wanted.
You already hated her.
Thursday, you didn't go to your classes. You stayed curled up in bed, answering the calls from Lisa, Jennie, Jisoo, Baekhyun, Jongin and even Kyungsoo, asking you if you were okay and what they could do for you. You were eternally grateful for all of them and how much they cared for you. They had asked you if you wanted to postpone your friend's dinner, but you didn't want to. It was something that you desperately needed to try and take your mind off your Mark situation.
Friday comes, and starts off better. You went to your classes that day. It wasn't until you looked at your phone, did your heart sink, and your anxiety flared up.
[From Unknown - 8:45am] I like your outfit today. You look so cute.
[From Unknown - 8:49am] I hope your first class goes well. I miss you.
You slipped your phone in your pocket, trying to focus on your lecture. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating the entire time you were in your hour and a half class. After it ends, you pull out your phone to read some of them.
[From Unknown - 9:07am] Please text me back.
[From Unknown - 9:10am] it's really not nice to ignore someone.
[From Unknown - 9:17am] Please, baby.
You deleted all the messages, only reading a few of them. You didn't want to deal with this. Maybe eventually he would get the hint. And he did, only until the afternoon.
[From Unknown - 2:47pm] I miss your smile. You looked so happy taking in the warm sun as you were walking.
[From Unknown - 2:52pm] Did you take a picture of the sky for your IG? I can't wait for you to post it.
You ignored them again, putting your phone into your pocket as you headed to your last class of the day. The hour went by quickly, with no excessive buzzing coming from your pocket. You were relieved but that didn't last long. As you made your way to Kyungsoo's apartment, the texts continued, and got progressively worse.
[From Unknown - 4:59pm] I don't fucking appreciate this.
[From Unknown - 5:04pm] You are being a goddamn cunt right now, Y/N.
[From Unknown - 5:07pm] ANSWER ME!!
[From Unknown - 5:11pm] I'm sorry, baby. I just miss you so much. Please answer me.
You sigh as you knock on the door of Kyungsoo's apartment, finishing reading the last message.
“Hey.” Kyungsoo smiles, opening the door. You walk into the most delightful smells, immediately causing you to forget about the texts. “You can join the others in the living room.” He says, heading back to the kitchen. You take your coat off, following the sound of laughter into the living room.
“Y/N.” Everyone yells, all happy to see you. You say hi to everyone, looking at Jongin, who mouths “sorry.” To you before you see Chanyeol with his arm around Maya on the couch. You wanted to roll your eyes so fucking badly. But your phone began to vibrate.
[From Unknown - 5:27pm] I can't wait to pin you down, kissing your body all over.
[From Unknown - 5:33pm] I'm going to make you cum so many times from my fingers when I finally get you in my bed. Do you want that baby?
You can feel the tears starting. Why won't he stop?
You press the phone button to call and scream at him but it won't connect. “This number is no longer in service.”
Maybe he deactivated it.
[From Unknown - 5:46pm] I hope you're not fucking Chanyeol or Jongin baby. I'll have to punish you for that.
[From Unknown - 5:54pm] Would you like that baby? I'm going to tie you up and punish you. I don't like being ignored.
[From Unknown - 5:56pm] Y/N. ANSWER ME.
[From Unknown - 5:59pm] I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.”
You couldn't take it anymore. The tears fell as Kyungsoo walked into the living room.
“Y/N?” He asks, glancing around at everyone else. You completely break down, sobbing into your knees.
“Hey, what's going on doll?” Lisa asks, moving towards you. You slide your unlocked phone towards her, allowing her to read the messages as you sniffle.
“What the fuck.” She gasps.
“What? What do they say?” Everyone asks.
“Can I read them out?” Jongin asks you. You hide your face but nod your head. You didn't want to deal with this shit alone.
“Holy shit. He talks about what she's wearing today and gets mad at her for not responding.” He pauses. “I can't wait to pin you down, kissing all over your body.” He reads out. You look up, every single person there was pissed beyond measure. Except for Maya, who rolled her eyes at every text.
“Y/N answer me.. I will fucking kill you if you don't answer me.” He finishes in a whisper.
No one says a thing. Lisa, Jennie and Jisoo hug you tightly until Baekhyun pipes up. “Who wants to go hunt this mother fucker down and make him wish he never met our precious Y/N?” He says.
Everyone jumps up agreeing, including Chanyeol. Maya scoffs loudly at him
“What the fuck, Chanyeol?” She yells.
“Here we go.” Baekhyun laughs.
“You're going to protect her again? What about me? I actually matter.” She says, pouting again.
“Y/N matters too.” Chanyeol tells her. “She's important to me. As are all my friends.” He says.
“So I'm not as important as this fucking thing whose scared of a few little texts? Like grow up.” She yells at you.
“Who are you calling a thing, bitch?” Lisa snaps, standing up.
“Miss fucking cry baby over there.” Maya yells.
“Maya!” Chanyeol yells, his voice booming through the house. “Shut the fuck up.” He snaps. He glares at her, she tries to stand tall but she cowers under him. “Get your stuff. We're leaving.” He yells. “NOW.” He booms. She rushes out of the room without a word. Chanyeol mutters a “sorry” towards the group before slamming the door behind him.
The group sits in silence.
“Has anyone EVER heard Chanyeol yell that loud!?” Baekhyun asks, jumping up onto the couch. “I mean sure he's loud during game nights but holy shit.”
“literally never.” Jisoo says, her eyes still wide.
Kyungsoo looks at you. “Have you gone to the cops?” He asks.
“Yeah, you really should.” Lisa and Jennie urge.
“I have.” You sniffle. “They can't do anything for me until he physically hurts me.” You cry. “Apparently covering my mouth to stop me from screaming isn't enough.”
“That's messed up.” Kyungsoo sighs. “You shouldn't be alone. You need to stay with someone.”
“She can stay with me.” Chanyeol announces, walking into the living room.
“What happened?” Baekhyun asks.
“I ended things. For good.” Chanyeol says to everyone, before turning to look at you. “Y/N I am so sorry for the way she spoke to you. That was uncalled for and not fair.” He whispers with his head down. “You didn't deserve that.”
“Thank you.” You sniffle. “You didn't have to break up with her though.”
Baekhyun laughs out loudly, making everyone else laugh along.
“Yeah I did. It was time. I can't be with someone like that, I wasn't really into it anyways.”
Your phone buzzes again on the table.
[From Unknown - 7:08pm] I'm so sorry baby, please forgive me. Just talk to me.
Chanyeol picks up your phone, reading the message. He holds out his hand for you to pull you up. “We're going to go to Y/N's apartment and grab her things. I'll let you all know when we've made it safely back to my place.” He says. You go around the group giving everyone a hug while saying thank you to them. You didn't know what you would do without such great friends. you and Chanyeol didn't say much on the drive to your apartment. You were exhausted and just wanted to rest but you knew it wasn't going to come easily tonight. You and chanyeol head up to your front door, you unlock the door, letting him in first before you lock it back up behind you. You felt too paranoid to leave anything to chance. Chanyeol chuckles as he walks towards the table, patting it with the palm of his hand.
“This is a solid table.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him, heading into your bedroom. quickly you find a bag, shoving your clothes into it, grabbing everything you can think of right now that you would need. You grabbed your charger and your laptop, and just as you thought you had everything, you heard a loud, rapid banging on your front door. You freeze. Chanyeol puts his finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. He waves you back into the room, mouthing for you to hide. Quietly, he creeps up to the door as the banging continues. He looks out the peephole, all he can see is black hair.
“Yes?” He says, his voice loud and deep.
“Where's Y/N?” He asks. You can hear Mark's voice.
“She's not here. You need to leave.” Chanyeol announces. “She's not interested in you. You need to move on.”
“Hah. I need to move on? She and I are meant to be together. You tell her I'll see her soon.” Mark yells, leaving Chanyeol's view. He opens the door slightly, making sure that Mark is actually gone. Chanyeol calls you out of the room, tears streaming down your face. He wraps his arm around you, taking you out of your apartment, heading for his car. You were terrified that Mark was going to be out there waiting for you. But he wasn't. Chanyeol opened the car door for you, you got in, placing your bag on the floor.
The drive is silent. It was late, you were drained. Walking up to Chanyeol's apartment, he unlocks the door, letting you go in first. It's bigger than you thought it would be. It was decorated very minimally, he had furniture around but not much else.
“It's very nice.” You smile.
“I'm still working on getting more things for it.” He laughs. He takes you to his bedroom. “You can sleep here. I'm going to take the couch.” He says.
“Chanyeol.” You sigh. “It's enough that you're letting me stay here, I can't take your bed too.”
He laughs. “You can. And you will. Get some rest okay? I'm right out there if you need.” He gives you a hub before grabbing his pj's and going into the bathroom. He comes out in a shirt and pj pants, heading for the living room. You dig through your bag, finding your shorts and a tank top to sleep in. You change and crawl into his bed. It smells so good. It smells like him. Sleep came to you easier than you thought, but it didn't last long.
You woke up breathing heavily, sweating and a little confused. You had dreamt that Mark had taken you captive and you were really shaken up over it. You crawled out of bed, heading to the living room.
Chanyeol laid on the couch, scrolling on his phone until he noticed you. He sits up quickly. “What's wrong?” he asks, standing up. He was no longer wearing a shirt.
Holy shit, you'd forgotten how ripped he was.
“it was.. a dream.” you start. “Mark.. he had..uh, kidnapped me.”
Chanyeol wraps you in his arms, in a tight and comforting hug. You hold onto him as tightly as you can, you feel so safe with him.
“Can you please sleep in the bed with me? I don't want to be alone.” You whisper.
He lets go of you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bedroom. You both crawl into the bed, getting comfy. Chanyeol rubs your arm and shoulder as your back faces him. You quickly fall asleep, feeling more comfortable than you've been in a while. You wished the feeling of peace would last, unfortunately you knew it wouldn't.
You woke up in the morning with Chanyeol wrapped around your body. You were sweating so bad, you had no choice but to get up. You managed to wiggle your way out of his embrace, making your way to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. You snooped around his cupboards, trying to find something to make for breakfast. You settled on making eggs and toast, it was easy enough. As you continue scrambling your eggs, Chanyeol walks out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes with a smile on his face.
“What's this?” He asks.
“Breakfast. Duh.” You laugh. You were feeling good today, you felt like it was going to be a great day. Until your phone on the table started to ring.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
Chanyeol grabbed your phone, declining the call and blocking the number.
“There. That should work.” He smiles. He sets your phone down, before it starts ringing again.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
#exowritersnet#chanyeol#park chanyeol#exo chanyeol#baekhyun#kyungsoo#jennie#lisa#jisoo#jongin#kpop fanfic#kpop writing#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#exo#exo fanfiction#stalker#college au
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♡ reblogging from my shadow-reader days ♡
drive safe (m) || bbh x reader
Keep reading
#☾.ᐟ moon#★.ᐟ mars#fic: long#exo#baekhyun#academia#college au#friends to lovers#childhood friends trope#brother’s best friend trope#unrequited love
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i get to take a kpop class this winter!!
#it’s about kpop & human rights#& over the last 2.25 years i’ve learned that there’s quite a bit of overlap#some of the groups i get to ‘learn’ about are exo skz & twice#i also get to talk about superm which my ult was (is?) a part of#(learn is in quotes bc i already know plenty about these groups so it’ll mostly be going over things i already know)#but i get college credit for it#and i’m so excited#gen kpop
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Chapter 12: Execution
Accusing a wingleader of wrongdoing is the most dangerous of all accusations. If you’re right, then we’ve failed as a quadrant to select the best wingleaders. If you’re wrong, you’re dead.
My Time As A Cadet: A Memoir by General Augustine Melgren
~
Thana was never good at staying still. Even when she thought she could emulate Xaden’s statuesque composure, she’d notice herself tapping her foot or twisting her hair between her fingers. Today, as she stood in formation beside Liam, she found herself hyper fixated on the small stone that had lodged itself inside of her boot. She was trying her damndest to manoeuvre it to a position that was less maddening but, her attempts fell short. Despite its infuriating presence, it was a welcome distraction from General Lilith Sorrengail’s attendance on the dais.
Why is she here? Thana asked Valka as she glared at the woman who had her father executed. You’ll find out soon enough, was all she heard in reply.
Thana watched as Xaden descended from the dais and made his way over to Dain Aetos. She suppressed a smirk at the glaring power imbalance that clearly unsettled Dain, all his attempts to assert dominance falling flat. It was obvious he loathed taking orders from anyone, least of all a marked one—let alone Xaden Riorson.
When their conversation was finished, Xaden waved Liam over. After a few words back and forth, Liam joined the formation of the second squad, flame section, fourth wing.
What the fuck? Thana asked. More of a statement than a question. It seems Platinum has been moved to the second squad.
She glared at Xaden trying to catch his attention as Captain Fitzgibbons mounted the dais and made his way over to the podium. She could not understand why Liam would be moved and why he went without question. Fitzgibbons lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose, took an exasperated breath and began.
Thana had stopped paying attention as the names were read aloud at formation each morning. It was an unceremonious way to farewell the fallen cadets and she refused to let their sacrifices be reduced to mere names on a list. Plus, if she thought about them too much she’d surely feel the dread pool in her stomach, a premonition of worse things to come.
As she scanned the crowd, she noticed Violet and Rhiannon gossiping amongst themselves. Violet looked a little worse for wear this morning and Thana couldn’t help but think that Amber may have had something to do with it.
Amber Mavis had cornered Thana a few days after Threshing and tried to recruit her to join a few other cadets who wanted to kill Violet Sorrengail. Amber was still pissed that Violet broke codex on the Gauntlet and her little cronies were butthurt that they hadn’t bonded a dragon especially since Violet had bonded two. Thana would have said yes if Xaden hadn’t asked her more than once to stay away. She still didn’t understand why Xaden would want to protect Violet of all people but, she gave up guessing. She knew he’d tell her at the opportune time and, for now, no matter how much the urge for revenge knawed at her, she knew she had no choice but to trust him.
As Captain Fitzgibbons read off the last names on the death roll, Thana stomach sunk. She recognised those names–mostly unbonded cadets–all of them recruited to carry our Amber’s vendetta. Thana looked around in disbelief trying to find their faces in the crowd. Surely Violet didn’t kill them on her own. Surely Amber didn’t deceive them only to turn on them at the last minute. After all, she was friends with Aetos and Aetos and Violet were… friends? Fucking? Thana wasn’t sure but, there was history there.
How did this happen? she asked Valka, How did they all die? How is Violet -
I believe Shadowspawn is about to answer that for you, Valka replied, his disdain for Xaden palpable.
Xaden made his way to the podium flanked by Garrick and Bodhi. He looked out at the cadets before him, a merciless look in his eye.
“Early this morning,” he began, his voice calm but commanding, “a rider in my wing was brutally, illegally attacked in her sleep with the intent of murder by a group of unbonded riders. As we all know, this is a violation of Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex. It is also a capital offence.”
His gaze swept over the crowd, landing on Thana for a fraction of a second. Since when did Xaden care about the codex?
“The attack was orchestrated by a rider who fled before I arrived,” Xaden continued. “Wingleader Amber Mavis.”
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Thana stood frozen. How had Xaden or anyone else found out?
Thana had spent the last two weeks contemplating whether or not to tell Xaden but, secretly, she didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want him to stop them. Maybe that makes her guilty of violating Article Three, Section Two of the Dragon Rider’s Codex too but, she thought that Xaden would be happy. That he’d be relieved that someone else took the burden off his hands. And that was beside the point. Xaden trusted Amber. He trusted all of the wingleaders. Thana couldn’t comprehend why he’d reprimand Amber instead of keeping his mouth shut. It had to have something to do with Violet. Everything seems to have something to do with Violet. With Lilith. Was that why she was on the dais?
Stop overthinking. You can’t change this, Valka noted.
As Amber stepped forward, she protested, her voice shrill, “You’re only doing this because my family didn’t join your father’s rebellion.”
Xaden seemed unphased as he called upon the other wingleaders to form a quorum. Thana hated the politics of this hellhole. The decision of life or death comes down to the judgement made by three people a few years older than herself. Why not put it to the dragons? Why not give Amber more than 5 minutes to explain her reasons? Why didn’t Thana talk her out of it? Surely if she had, the six would still be here and Amber–
You are not responsible for this, Thana, Valka interrupted.
The sound of wings battering the air above them signalled the approach of the dragons flying in from the valley. Thana would never get used to the sheer size of these creatures as they perched on the citadel walls. She could feel the energy shifting around her, the air thickening with apprehension. Above the silence, she could hear her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
Xaden declared Amber Mavis guilty with the same cold resignation as Fitzgibbons had reading the death roll. Thana was disgusted by him. She couldn’t understand how he could be so nonchalant about the death of a peer. A friend. Basgiath had changed him.
The rider’s quadrant watched as Amber begged for her life, begged for Claidh. The desperate shrieks of Amber’s dragon pierced through the courtyard. Tairn snapped at her as the other dragons remained on their perches. Thana couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening.
As Tairn lowered his head, it all seemed to move in slow motion. The crowd retreated toward the courtyard walls as Tairn bared his teeth to Amber Mavis. Lilith Sorrengail looked on with contentment as a roar shook the citadel and a torrent of flames shot from between Tairn’s bared teeth. In an instant, the fire surged forward turning flesh to ash in an instant.
Claidh’s cries filled the air; the dragon’s mourning could be heard for miles as she launched from her perch back toward the valley. As ceremoniously as ever, Fitzgibbons read Amber’s name from the death roll before dismissing the cadets from formation.
Thana stood motionless, her feet planted firmly in place, as if her very soul had been held captive by the sight before her. As the other cadets fled from the courtyard, she wished desperately that Liam had been standing beside her to hold her steady or to assure her that this was not her fault.
But he wasn’t. And it was Liam who pulled her focus back to the courtyard. It was her squad leader, Exo Halt.
“Are you ok?” he asked. She realised they were the only two people left except for Garrick and Xaden who were in deep conversation on the dais.
She ignored his question. “Did you know?” she asked.
“About Amber? No, I-” he began. “About Liam.”
Exo's shake of the head was unmistakably sincere. Thana forced a tight-lipped smile, brushed her hand on his arm and started to make her way to Xaden. Before she could get to the dais, Xaden and Garrick disappeared into a crowded hallway.
Thana stood in the middle of the courtyard, mere feet from Amber’s ashes.
What now? She searched for Valka in the confines of her mind.
Now we keep going.
#Fourth Wing#Fourth Wing Fan Fic#Thana Valaren#Violet Sorrengail#Xaden Riorson#Rhiannon Matthias#Liam Mairi#Ridoc Gamlyn#Exo Halt#Sawyer Henrick#Ruari Hawke#Dain Aetos#Garrick Tavis#Imogen Caludo#Bohdi Durran#Dragons#Deigh#Sgaeyl#Tairn#Andarna#Valka#Basgiath#Basgiath War College#Dragon Riders#Riders Quadrant#Xaden Riorson Fan Fic#Garrick Tavis Fan Fic#Liam Mairi Fan Fic
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His Words Are Pretty - Waking Up (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1385181346-his-words-are-pretty-waking-up?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=AndleyXxKellic&wp_originator=Jmaz1RIIzKK4%2BjcPewQtAuUg6yL%2Bs%2Bu7mjVZCCIx%2BryXsmJtgtL%2BmHPvfIdyXO6Ceo8igKRffUZZwURHSSfh1taatx79J3AK1DxrVjK0wR%2FH1TA4k9YBTGzaWsaByGaH Growing up isn't supposed to be that hard; you have to do it. The only problem was him. Every. Word. I. Held. On. To. I shouldn't have listened, but how could I not? His voice. Those words. Only one word comes to mind.
#badboy#blackpink#bts#btsfanfic#college#exo#exofanfic#fandom#fanfiction#jennie#jenniekim#jenniexkai#jenniextaehyung#jong-in#jongin#kai#kaiexo#kpop#kpopfanfic#kpopidols#lovestory#lovetriangle#taehyung#trauma#romance#books#wattpad#amreading
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YUUTA OKKOTSU’S DECLASSIFIED JUJUTSU TECH SURVIVAL GUIDE (AN APPETITE HAUNTING THE HEART)
❝i know this tastes too good to be healthy. the more it melts, the sweeter it gets, so take my heart out because i need all of you.
*this is yuuta okkotsu’s fool-reviewed plan for navigating all things curses, sorcery, and love.
pairings. okkotsu/reader
content, warnings. canon-adjacent, reader has a cursed technique, friends to lovers, smut (uhh... no triggers i think? other than implied virginity loss on yuuta’s part), mentions of violence/curses, possessive/intrusive thoughts... he starts of kinda sweet and weird and then just gets... weirder and worse lol, so mostly yuuta being... yuuta <2
notes. jujustu tech is a college not a highschool, yes i brought naruto in this, i believe in sasuke slander only from a place of pure love, real sasuke ridicule will not be accepted xoxo
word count. 12k i told you i could yap about him all day
playing. candy/baekhyun, untouched/the veronicas, cream soda/exo, lacy/olivia rodrigo, pure honey/beyoncé
#1 — Do NOT touch Maki Zenin’s tools (but if you do, the cute girl who hangs around Inumaki might help to patch you up).
Yuuta hadn’t meant to piss off Maki. He was trying to be helpful, but Yuuta learned the hard way today: do not touch Maki’s cursed tools, at all, for any reason whatsoever. He intended to hand it back to her, but she was prompt in assuming that was part of an attack, snatching it from under his grasp and giving him a jab on the wrist with the dull end of the stick. If the beatdown he’d endured during training put Yuuta on his deathbed, then that hit was the final nail in the coffin.
The crack! sound of his bones made everyone pause their sparring, and Gojo winced the loudest, “Ouch! That one had to hurt, kid!” It was also Gojo who gathered everyone to stand around and look down at him clutching his wrist in pain, before making the executive decision to appoint you as Yuuta’s caretaker.
“This is definitely something you can handle!” he cheered, patting the top of your head, “Take our dearest Yuuta to the infirmary and patch him up, please and thank you! With the way Maki’s been kicking him into the ground, those cuts are sure to get infected sooner rather than later. The two of you can join us for dinner when you’re finished!”
Yuuta tried to refute, on the grounds of “No—no! I—ouch—this really isn’t worth using any kind of cursed energy over!” Which was quickly met with a mischievous raised eyebrow from his teacher, “Oh? Are you insinuating that my precious student doesn’t have the skill to fix a simple fracture?” That prompted Yuuta to spill a flurry of apologies, none of which were coherent, and ended up with him trailing behind you sheepishly to the infirmary with a broken wrist, several bleeding wounds, and probably early heart failure.
Now, Yuuta sits with his feet dangling off of the edge of the examination chair, shivering from the chilliness of the room, and all of his nerve endings rattling at the realization that this is the first time that he’s been alone in a room with you since you’ve met. He winces, first at the sting of disinfectant into his wound, and then internally—mostly out of embarrassment—because his outward reaction made you pause your actions to question if he’s okay.
Okay is relative, he thinks. In the grand scheme of things, he’s okay. Concerning his current injuries, he’ll be okay eventually. Concerning this… whatever this is he feels for you… maybe not so okay.
“Sorry,” he stutters, too loud for the atmosphere and proximity of your bodies to each other, and, so, he winces again, cheeks staining red to match his embarrassment, as if he or you needed any confirmation of it. He doesn’t mean to be a difficult patient, but he has an adversity surrounding hospitals and medical care, and that alcohol really does burn, and you’re really close to his face, and—and you giggle a little, but Yuuta hears a chorus, instead; warm, spring-like, with violins and a piano and cellos strumming in perfect harmony, and the buzz of bees and butterfly wings flapping the melody.
“You apologize a lot,” you tell him, a kind smile on your lips. You step forward, just a bit, as you peel off the band-aid adhesive and gently press it over the bridge of Yuuta’s nose. It’s Hello Kitty themed. It makes him want to scream.
“Yeah, uh—sorry about that!” Yuuta apologizes, once again too loudly. He scratches at the back of his neck with his left hand, and his eyes go wide after a few beats, “No, wait—I didn’t mean to apologize again. I just... I, uh... thank you. That’s what I wanted to say. For helping me, you have my sincerest thank you.”
Yuuta dips his head to bow, and when he raises it again, you’re blinking at him owlishly, and he thinks he’s really done it now. You must think he’s a freak, if you didn’t already. He thinks you’re gonna tell him off for being pathetic and a weakling, but instead you laugh again—that precious sound that pauses Yuuta’s world for the better.
“You’re awfully formal. There’s no need for that, or to thank me. We’re friends, afterall,” you reassure him, “Even if Gojo did force you to be my practice dummy.”
It’s his turn to reassure you, his uninjured hand moving from his neck to shake frantically in front of him, “It’s completely okay,” he does his best to give you a smile as warm as the one you give him. It probably doesn’t work, but he tries anyway—he’s always been an awkward smiler, too wide-mouthed and toothy, “You can do whatever you want to me, I trust you.”
Your face seems almost solemn at his declaration, and the panic instantly kicks in again. Yuuta scrambles when his words play back in his head, “I’m sorry, was that weird? I meant that I trust your judgment. You can, uh, fix me up however you best see fit—or just leave it! I’m sure it’ll heal on—”
“You’re awfully self-sacrificing, too,” you cut him off with a laugh, your usual warm nature clicking back. Yuuta shrugs, feeble; you smile wider, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I keep staring, and I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable.”
“Not at all! You don’t... make me uncomfortable, I mean. You could never,” Yuuta rushes, curling back into himself after his outburst, “You... it always feels really nice when you’re around. I can’t explain it, but everything is calmer.”
Your eyes flutter across his face, before you turn away from him, “I can tell it makes you nervous—I can hear the changes in your heartbeat,” you tell him, opening the cabinet to return the alcohol to its rightful place. You must also be able to hear his thoughts, chiming in just as Yuuta continues to wonder if his heartbeat is really that loud, “It’s part of my technique. I don’t mean to intrude on your heart.”
Is it an intrusion if Yuuta left room for you? If he wanted you to be there? Was it crazy to think that he’d give you his heart to hold and trust you to take care of it, even though you’d only met a few months ago? Maybe it would be easier if he let you squeeze tight enough to put him out of his misery already.
Luckily, you keep talking before he can say something stupid like that out-loud again.
“It’s just that... you remind me of somebody that I used to know. You’re kind like him, and you both share a well-intentioned recklessness, too. I see so much of him in you that it’s hard not to stare sometimes,” you admit, turning back to face him, and gingerly taking his wrist between your hands. When your hands start to glow, Yuuta can feel it—your reversed cursed technique is warm on the surface, but chilly underneath, like a heated blanket on top of perfectly cool sheets.
“I don’t mean to say that you’re just a replacement,” you continue, slowly rotating your hands over his injury. It stings a little, then soothes, “I’m just still in awe of how nice it feels being around you. It feels strangely—”
“Familiar,” Yuuta interjects, “I understand. You feel that way, too. I think... that’s what I meant before.” He understands your words perfectly because you remind him of someone precious to him, too; someone he used to and still loves alot. “You—it makes me happy, that’s why I seem so nervous.”
It seems as though you understand him, too. His heart sings, and you can probably hear it, but Yuuta doesn’t quite mind so much now. What he feels for you is consuming, maybe concerning, but knowing that you know what it’s like to love like him brings him an odd sense of comfort. Maybe he should be jealous that you’ve had someone to love that much before, but he’s not exactly in a position to talk. What matters is that you can hear him and feel him—his heart and his love and his sad and his happy, and it doesn’t push you away.
It makes him want to burst. He owes you a thank you for putting something so precious in his life. He owes you an apology, for ever doubting that you couldn’t handle his symptoms. He should have realized that you can handle his love.
“You feel really warm, too,” he blushes, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand, “And, uh, not just because you’re holding my hand.”
The twinkle in your eyes turns into confusion, then surprise when you look down to see that the hand below his wrist had moved to rest underneath his palm instead. His wrist was well healed by now, and you’d been, effectively, massaging his skin and muscles with your technique for the latter duration of your conversation without realizing it.
Yuuta couldn’t tell when it went from healing to hand holding, but he’s not complaining—and he doesn’t think he could have stopped it either. Another quality to your technique that he couldn’t understand was how your energy felt sticky, flowed like honey; how it managed to run into broken crevices and bruised dents with a mind of its own. Even if he’d wanted to pull his hand away—and he didn’t, he absolutely did not—he wouldn’t have gotten far from you. He never wanted to be.
“You already have calluses on your palm,” you note, dispelling your healing energy, holding onto Yuuta’s hand only by want now, “You train hard. You’ll catch up to Maki and Toge, quickly, but not if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Yuuta almost chokes when you rotate your wrist so that your fingers are aligned. Your hand is so much softer than his, warmer than his, and maybe he’s idealistic, but your fingers seem to slot perfectly between his when you curl them.
“I’m not always going to be around to fix you up,” you warn him, “So don’t go around pissing Maki off too much, alright?”
Yuuta can feel the heat from your body flow through him. From his palm, up his arm, down into his chest, and everywhere else. It doesn’t feel real. You’re holding his hand, you’re smiling at him, you’re right there and you’re so bright and beautiful, so Yuuta doesn’t know why his thoughts are so gray and dangerous; you wouldn’t hurt him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so why can’t he stop thinking about keeping you like this—of stitching your hands together forever to keep you by his side, or letting this heat consume and burn you both.
Yuuta shakes his head to wiggle those thoughts away, but to you it seems like he’s saying no to staying off of Maki’s radar. When he realizes it, he nods too reverently to make up for it; surely looking like an idiot, and then to top it off, he squeaks, “I—yes, ma’am!”
Another foolish outburst on his end, perhaps, but it makes you giggle, fills the room with springtime for a moment, so to Yuuta, it was worth it. “Good,” you nod, release his hand and beckon him off of the chair, “Come on, we should go eat before Panda takes all the good sides for himself.”
Yuuta follows you back to the dorms with his stomach already full of love, love, love. He loves you, and you can hear, and see, and feel exactly what you do to him, and you don’t run. Yuuta thinks maybe you should, even though he doesn’t want you to. Surely you know what he did to Rika when he loved her.
Rika seems to like you, actually, if the humming of her voice in his head as he takes his seat at the table next to you is any indication. He can vaguely make out some of her words as you pass him the dumplings—warm, kind, loyal. He agrees. Pretty, too. No disagreement there.
In such a short amount of time, you’ve shifted Yuuta’s ethos for life. He wanted to die to be with the person he loved before, and never quite understood why Rika would stop him, why she would want him to suffer in this life alone; but maybe this is what Rika was always trying to tell him; that his love was not lost and buried with her, but flowing towards you, his heart, a beacon for you to locate.
You’d mentioned that he reminded you of someone you knew before, that you couldn’t see anymore. Yuuta doesn’t know what happened to your person before he came along; he can only hope that you’ll allow him and his heart to be a vessel for your love someday, too. He won’t disappoint you. He won’t let you let go of him.
It shouldn’t be hard. You already have his heart in your hands.
#2 — Gojo is more than a teacher. He is also the school event planner, once ranked Diamond in Overwatch, and is the only person blacklisted from any and all kitchens on campus. He also gives pretty good (sometimes questionable?) advice. His eyes are kind of scary.
You’re there when he and Toge are nearly decimated by the Grade 1 curse in the abandoned market. He still doesn’t understand much about sorcery at this point, so seeing people like you and Toge in action is awe-inspiring to say the least. Yuuta knows that Toge is nothing short of amazing, but he can’t help but to be drawn into you, you, you—your energy, your fighting style, the seemingly never-ending applications of your technique. Cursed energy in and of itself is still a foreign concept to him, so perhaps it’s that seeing you use the reverse of it so effortlessly is even more novel to him.
He can hear Rika strumming in the back of his mind, an indistinct itch and hum that sounds vaguely like laughter at his self-justification. He chooses to ignore her.
After, while he’s still buzzing with the tingly warm sensation of your technique after you’d patched him up, Gojo finds him, and Yuuta, unable to keep up a façade, pours all his anxious, worried, inquisitive feelings about his mission on the table.
“The way that (_____) can heal wounds... is that something I can learn?” Yuuta questions his teacher, eyes tired but genuine and earnest.
And Gojo, all knowing and absolutely singing at the implications, smiles so wide he’s certain his newest student could see the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, even through the dark tint of his glasses. “Maybe.”
He goes on, leaning back into the old loveseat, one leg crossed over his other knee, “You’ll probably be able to learn to heal yourself with reversed cursed technique, but using it to heal others is difficult and rare. Shoko and (_____) are the only people I know who can do it.”
“Is… did she get to learn it because she’s a Grade 1?” He remembers Maki explaining the ranking system for Jujutsu sorcerers. You and Toge were ranked the highest in the class, and amongst the other Kyoto students; it would make sense that you two have learned more applications of your techniques due to your higher placements.
Gojo chuckles, much to Yuuta’s confusion. “That’s not quite how it works—and if it were, then you’d already know because you’re a Special Grade. You don’t unlock new lessons as you move up, you move up because of how well you’ve learned to control and apply your own cursed technique.”
Right. That makes sense. Except Yuuta knows that his classification of Special Grade is a bit of a cheat because he can’t control or apply his cursed energy half as well as any of his classmates. He has Rika to thank for his immediate promotion, not himself or his own skills.
“In any case, if you do learn it, you’ll never be able to execute it like her, that’s for certain. Reversed cursed technique is complicated to learn and nearly impossible to teach. It’s one of those things you truly have to figure out for yourself when the timing is right—I only got it when I was on the brink of death. It’s 100% effective on the person doing it, but only 50% effective when applied to other people by the user,” Gojo says, “Except for (_____). She was born with reversed cursed energy, which is why she has an almost 100% output on herself and others, so she’s extra special. ”
Yuuta frowns. He never expected to do anything half as well as you, but knowing there’s only half a chance that he could, literally, only ever meet you half-way is frustrating. You can save him time and time and time again, as you already have, and all he can do is be a wound for you to stitch back together.
It must be difficult for you. A similar thought had crossed his mind when he first met Shoko-san, feeling bad for her having to carry the burden of healing others, knowing that she could never receive the same treatment in return. It’s worse for you, though, to be an angel amongst the men on this Earth—it’s not fair that you can give so much to help, and nobody can do the same for you. Yuuta wants to give something to you, he wants to devote himself to you, so at the very least, you have that. If he can’t give you anything else, he can give you himself.
Gojo laughs at Yuuta’s silence, kicking his legs up on the coffee table. “That’s hard for you to hear, huh? Ha! You truly are a lover, not a fighter, Yuuta.”
Yuuta blinks at him. “I, uh... thank you?” He says, even though he’s not so certain that those two things are discernable.
“Right now, the best thing for you to do is focus on controlling Rika and your cursed energy. That way, (_____) can also focus on fighting, and not healing, when you’re on missions together. The stronger you are, the less she’ll have to clean up after you,” Gojo advises.
He puts his feet back on the floor and uses the leverage to lean over, a bit too close for Yuuta’s comfort. “The only thing you can do for her is to learn to help yourself.”
Yuuta’s eyes go wide. He wants to—he wants to help you, wants to help himself, wants to help others, too. There’s a selfish twang for a moment, the thought of not needing you anymore tugging at his heart, but Rika reminds him that he’ll still want you.
Then an even scarier thought crosses his mind. “What happens if I don’t learn to control this? What happens if I curse her instead?”
Yuuta trembles at the thought, breathing and heartbeat erratic, his sensei moving back a bit. Rika is there again, reassuring him that he never hurt her, that his love never hurts, that the only person he’s ever truly harmed is himself by isolation of his own feelings. Trust her, Rika demands, she can handle this.
You can. Can you? You have, so far. You don’t run, you don’t push, you give, and give, and give to him; Rika was kind and playful and took and took and took Yuuta’s loneliness and sickness in stride and he still cursed her, seemingly for all eternity. He wants to love and be loved, but not if it means hurting you—isn’t it bad enough that he’s already inept at healing your wounds? Why should he risk giving you more?
“Yuuta,” Gojo calls him out of his thoughts, “I’m disappointed.”
That truly breaks Yuuta’s cyclical monologue. “I—disappointed?”
Gojo ticks his tongue, shakes his head and points a finger in accusation, “You should know your fellow classmates better by now. (_____) is not that weak or scared,” he chastises, “You’re so worried about cursing her that you haven’t realized that she is the only person so far to have effectively used her curse on you.”
Yuuta pauses, eyes wet with the awful realization that Gojo was right. You have already cursed him; your technique has already gotten past the barrier of his curse. You’ve cursed him. He never stopped to think that it was possible, worried only about himself. How selfish—he shares Gojo’s disappointment in himself.
He’s spent so much time loathing his jealous mind and decaying heart that he hasn’t opened his eyes to see you that you’ve found him. You can poison anything he does, and make the antidote with equal ease; how stupidly naive of Yuuta to think that he could be the one to diagnose or treat you better than you could him, or yourself.
“I’m sorry, sensei,” Yuuta dips his head, and also spares you an internal apology, “I understand better, now.”
“Is that so?” Gojo muses, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes scan Yuuta’s when his head is raised again, that knowing grin creeping back up on his lips. “Well, if you still want to know more about reversed curse technique, or want help learning it, it’s not an entirely lost cause. I’m definitely not the person for this lesson, but, you know who is?”
Yuuta feels a sense of whiplash from the change in Gojo’s demeanor. Confusion clouds his mind again, and he shrugs, “Um... Shoko-sensei?”
Gojo makes a loud buzzer noise, complete with crossing his arms in front of his chest in a big ‘X.’ Yuuta frowns again. Is that where Toge learned to do that?
“Wrong! I’m talking about (_____), obviously!” Gojo claps his hands together, before lowering his glasses to wiggle his eyebrows, “Tutoring is a textbook way to get some alone time, kiddo. You want to spend more time with her outside of class and missions, right?”
“I want to spend all my time with her,” Yuuta confesses, mindlessly. And foolishly, he soon realizes, when he sees that Gojo’s grin has tripled; and he’s quick to flash his hands to correct himself, “No—not like that—not in a creepy way! I just... I want to get to know her better, like you said.”
Yuuta’s awkward chuckles fill the space, and he can feel his insides burning from his cheeks all the way down to his hands. Would he ever be able to think coherently or tactfully when it came to you?
“So, uh... I... it’s okay if I ask her about this stuff, too?”
“Some sorcerers don’t like talking about their cursed techniques. But (_____) might not mind. You won’t know until you try.”
Yuuta nods shallowly. Try. He can do that—if not for himself, then for you; he can try for you. All you need from him is to accept your course of treatment; to love you is to let you curse him, completely.
“I’m a firm believer that all’s fair in love and war,” Gojo stands, stretching into Yuuta’s space to ruffle his hair. He leans down further, giving him a glimpse of his glowing eyes before sparing him a wink, “So, be a little greedy, and give it your best shot.”
#3 — Social media is the most twisted curse out there. It makes you feel so close, yet is a stark reminder of just how far you are from the person on the other end of the screen.
Yuuta has never considered himself good with technology. Even before Rika’s incident, he often felt ostracized by his peers because he didn’t have the same interest in or experience with games and cartoons. He had no reason to have a computer or a phone until enrolling at Jujutsu Tech, and there was an evident learning curve in navigating the devices. Toge often snickered watching Yuuta use his smartphone with the dexterity of a senior citizen.
He only barely set up Instagram and TikTok accounts with Toge’s help, but he doesn’t really get the idea of followers—why would people who don’t know him want to follow him? Why would he follow them? He doesn’t know many memes or jokes and even after seeing them, he doesn’t think many are all that funny, but he laughs anyway.
He doesn’t have much time to perfect his social media and meme skills, anyway. He’s dedicated to training and gaining mission experience—which pays off when Geto declares war on the school by the end of the year. Yuuta remembers how you returned his phone to him the next day, a few cracks and black, dark spots on the screen, giggling that you’d found it in the rubble, but that even your reverse cursed technique couldn’t fix its scars.
He thinks he gets the hang of it in the end—the basics of communication and the appeal behind connection with others through it—even going so far as to trade selfies with Gojo sometimes, who always seemed happy to receive them, no matter how much post-exorcism curse gunk Yuuta was covered in.
He also frequently exchanges texts with you. He much prefers to see you in person, but when you’re stuck for long hours in the ER, or away from campus on your own missions, Yuuta has grown fond of receiving your messages. He always attempts to read them in your voice and imagine your facial expressions to match those of the emojis you send. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of those yet, doesn’t understand what Toge means when he says that not all smiley faces are created equally, so to save himself the trouble, and potential embarrassment, he’s opted to use emoticons instead. Which, if you asked him, has been working out in his favor, seeing as you call them cute.
Yuuta also uses the safety of his phone screen to implement some of Gojo’s advice; picking your brain about curses, sorcery, and healing via text message for just long enough for you to say it’s easier to explain in person to come to him and teach him in your spare time. Soon these study sessions turn into texts asking to hang out outside of class and missions and work, and Yuuta couldn’t be more elated. The screen he once scorned at seemed to be his one-way ticket to being able to talk to his favorite person constantly.
But Yuuta never thought it would become his only means of communication with you. He’s devastated when you break the news to him, over half-finished oolong tea and nervous finger-twiddling.
“You’re leaving?” He echoes, hoping he doesn’t sound too much like a heartbroken child, even though that’s exactly how he feels.
It’s quiet outside of the tea shop where you two sit, nearing seven in the evening; only the soft sounds of other customers conversing behind you two inside, distant cars on the main street, and the sound of Yuuta’s heart beating frantically.
“Not leaving leaving,” you clarify, pausing your finger twirling to place one of your hands over Yuuta’s on the table, “I’m still studying, but I’m being sent abroad for a bit.”
He should be focused on the fact that you’re touching his hand—Yuuta should be happy! Rika still cheers for you in his mind, but her voice is quieter now—but Yuuta can’t. He’s focused on everything else, spiraling about the implications of your words. You’re leaving... going away from him when things are going so well.
Yuuta was so happy when you taught him the reversed curse technique, even happier when he realized he did have the ability to heal others, knowing it also meant having the ability to help you relieve some of your burdens. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still want to give himself to you, he would if you’d have him—but now he wouldn’t have the chance.
“I haven’t told anyone else yet—Gojo only told me this morning,” you mumble, “I’m going to miss you all a lot, but we can still text every day! I don’t know how long the time difference will be, but we can FaceTime.”
It’s not lost on Yuuta that he is the first person that you’ve told about this. It’s another thing to be happy about, another little victory he never thought he’d achieve, but it’s still overpowered by the dread of you leaving him.
He blinks, placing his other hand atop yours, sandwiching them between his, “How long?” Yuuta can’t read the expression on your face, but you don’t pull your hand away. He’s glad. He didn’t think when he’d done it, but the lack of rejection feels good—your touch always feels good, reverse cursed energy or not.
“I’m… not sure—a few months at least, maybe until the end of the year,” you admit, squeezing his hand, “There are some cursed objects and scrolls they want me to help recover, and Gojo says I get to work with another Special Grade sorcerer, too.”
His hands feel so good, so warm, but everything else about Yuuta feels cold, icy with dread and fear. You’re going away for a long time, and he won’t get to see you or hear you laugh or feel your warmth while you’re gone. His sunny days are going away, and Yuuta honestly doesn’t know how many more overcast skies and rain clouds he can take.
And it’s selfish, he knows. He should be happy for you—you were chosen for this mission, for this training; you’re getting the chance to use your skills to help others, and train even further. So, why couldn’t he be happy for you? Why could he only feel a pit in his stomach about the thought of you leaving and meeting some other Special Grade who’s rightfully deserving of their title? Not only had he lost the thing that brought him to you in the first place, but you’re about to find another replacement. Sure, with or without Rika’s curse, Yuuta had become so much stronger, but what’s it worth if he couldn’t keep you by his side?
“Tsukumo is supposed to be really cool, but you’ll always be my favorite Special Grade, Yuuta,” you taunt with a smile.
Yuuta’s eyes go wide and watery with wobbly lips and flushed cheeked and sweaty palms to match. Favorite. Favorite, favorite, favorite. The word spoken in your voice rings in his head like a beautiful chime, the tones washing over him and erasing all his fear and doubt and insecurity.
You had called Yuuta your favorite. Sure, he’s still upset when he and the other first-years drop you off at the airport too weeks later, he still cries the first night you’re gone, still nearly breaks his knee trying to jump for his phone the first time that you call; but it’s okay because Yuuta is living off of the temporary high of being your favorite.
And also, because, in the end, your separation seems to have been inevitable. Not a month after everyone bids you farewell from Jujutsu Tech, Gojo tells him that he’s next on the docket to be sent abroad. He’s happy for a split second, thinking that he might get sent off to Europe where you’re still working with Tsukumo, but then Yuuta learns his true fate: studying under the tutelage of Miguel in Kenya; equal parts away from his classmates in Tokyo, and from you in Barcelona.
Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder was a liar and a bitch, because the favorite boy honeymoon comes to an end when Yuuta settles into his new room and makes his first call to you from Nairobi. The feeling and reality of being alone, and even further away from you finally hits him. Still, he relishes in the sound of your voice; fantasizes that when you reach for your phone to show him your new things, it’s you reaching for his hand; dreams of you laying next to him when you fall asleep on the call, and desperately wishes that he could touch you, hold you, kiss you.
He really wants to kiss you. He thinks he’s probably always wanted to kiss you, from the very moment his feelings for you started to grow; even if he couldn’t discern them at first, he knows now—Yuuta knows that he misses you like he’s never missed anyone before. The grief of losing part of Rika, and then losing his proximity to you merely weeks apart is finally catching up to him, and it’s morphing into a yearning that tugs on his heartstrings and rattles his brain.
He knows that the rate of growth of his feelings for you hasn’t been steady, but he blames you for that. You’re the reason he loves you so much, the reason he can’t sleep at night, the reason he learns how to bring Rika back—because he thinks of you, you, you, and how he lost Rika once, and he’d be a fool to lose you twice.
Yuuta thinks it’s no coincidence that your cursed technique has the ability to alter him in mind and body. You have so much ownership over him and you probably don’t even know that Yuuta has spent every single moment of his life living and breathing for you since you’ve met.
And you take his breath away yet again, when he gets to see you in Germany. Miguel is taking him to Switzerland on a classified mission, and you and Tsukumo are on your way to Austria, and by some great miracle, your layovers align. When he sees you waving to him down the long corridor in the airport, it feels like a scene straight out of his dreams. Yuuta spares no time trying to look cool or nonchalant; making a beeline to you, desperate to feel your touch after so long.
He’s breathless in those ten minutes that you’re reunited. Everything is too short, but he does his best to live in it all. He speaks a mile a minute, cramming in anything he hadn’t already revealed to you in your many late-night FaceTimes, and swallowing everything you tell him. He wants to believe that he’d made the best of what little time he had with you, but the truth is he didn’t. Because while you were smiling and hugging and telling him that you missed him, all Yuuta really wanted to do was kiss you—and if he were a smarter man, a better man, he would have.
He thinks, for a split second, that you might have wanted to kiss him too—when you rock back on your heels after saying good-bye, hesitating for just a moment, almost expectantly, before your eyes flutter away. He’ll never know, because he never asked, he never tried, he never said—only whispered, pathetically, to himself as he watches the silhouette of you and Tsukomo before you disappear for boarding, that he loves you.
He almost believes that you hear it when you turn over your shoulder after his quiet confession. Would it have been better that way—if he kissed you, or confessed in the heat of the moment—or would it be taking advantage of an otherwise beautiful moment? Yuuta will never know, and the what if tantalizes him.
He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the thread of your messages. He starts typing, then stops. Backspace. Start typing. Pause. Read, re-read. Delete. Groan.
What’s the point? He can’t kiss you through the screen, and he’ll be damned if the first time he tells you that he’s in love with you is via phone call. He slumps his shoulders, and Miguel gives him a pity pat on the back. Yuuta goes to lock his phone when he sees the gray thought bubbles pop up below your last message and his entire body goes rigid in anticipation.
[received] 03:27 PM — [attachment: 1 image] — you should keep a closer eye on your things yuuta — i miss you already (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤
Yuuta’s heart stops when he sees the picture of you in your seat, wearing his white uniform jacket. He doesn’t know when you snuck it away from him, but that doesn’t matter—like anything else, he would have willingly given it to you, and then some. It looks much better on you anyway, and Yuuta pinches his eyes shut for a brief moment, to swallow down the thoughts threatening to swarm his mind of you in his arms, in other clothes, in his bed.
He opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets the warm, gooey feeling settle into his veins, and moves his fingers to type.
[sent] 03:38 PM — keep it, you can have anything of mine you want — i miss you more (๑′ ᴗ ‵๑)♥
You heart his messages and let him know you’re taking off soon, and putting your phone on airplane mode until you land. He’s not so confident to send a picture in return, unless you ask for it. Maybe you will, when you’re in Austria. He’ll have to work on his selfies.
He takes another once over the picture you sent, committing the idea of you in his clothes to memory. He knows the messages won’t delete themselves, but he takes a screenshot for safekeeping anyway. Maybe phones aren’t so bad, afterall.
#4 — Do not kill Itadori Yuuji. Under any circumstances. Even if some days you really feel like it. Also, sign up for a Crunchyroll subscription.
Yuuta can confidently say that his training abroad was both the most difficult and fulfilling thing he’s ever experienced. He believes that the change he’s endured is mostly good—he’s physically stronger, emotionally wiser, and overall more confident in himself and his cursed technique. One year ago, he would have been content with dying, but now he has more than enough reasons to keep living. He has people who care about him, and who would miss him if he were gone; and he’s got someone he would miss a whole bunch, too, should anything happen to them.
By miss Yuuta means that he might burn down a small town, might level a city, might flip the entire world on its axis if something were to happen to you. In his defense, he’d go to extremes for most of his friends—but for you, there’s truly nothing he wouldn’t risk.
He figured that out in his time abroad, too; came to terms with the fact that he’s selfish with his love. He loves too much, too hard, too close, and he isn’t very willing to share. He doesn’t see it as a bad thing, anymore, either—Yuuta knows now that the way he loves makes him who he is, and right now, he has the confidence to say that he likes that person, and that he loves you, undoubtedly.
So, forgive him if there’s a cloud of negative energy the size of a coach bus looming over him at the moment, because since you’ve returned to campus, Itadori Yuuji has been slobbering over you like a lovesick puppy.
Because apparently, you happen to know Itadori Yuuji—as in, since you were four and he was three, all the way up until your senior year of highschool, when you were scouted by Gojo, who, believes that you coming home from your study abroad trip would be the perfect time to reunite two best friends who hadn’t seen or heard from each other for the better part of two years—all while keeping this little reunion a secret from everybody, including you and Itadori.
A surprise, it certainly is, when the first time that Yuuta and the other second-years see you in months is on the dingy couch in the common room, under a cuddle pile of the first-years. Nobara’s arms wrapped around your left arm, body slumped against your side, Megumi’s long limbs stretching over Itadori’s torso, leaving the palm of his hand resting on your thigh. Far too close for Yuuta’s comfort. The only saving grace is that the jacket he loaned you is also spread across your lap, offering another layer between your body and his palm. And then there’s Itadori Yuuji, squished right between you and Megumi, with his head on your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and your free arm slung around his neck.
Yuuta should have been relishing in the fact that you were finally home, but all his focus is drawn to the way your position allows Itadori to cuddle right into you, to the way your arm is around his shoulder and your cheek pressed against the top of his head. You two might as well have been in your own little world, and Yuuta hates it. And, as if that’s not enough, the realization that he was not the first person to hug you or welcome you home clicks, and his anger bubbles deeper.
Next comes dread, that creeps in slowly when you and the first-years wake up, and you and Itadori go on and on and on about how surprised you were to see each other at the airport, how Itadori just assumed that when Gojo said he’d assigned them to “pick up something super special,” that he was messing with them, how you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of your precious, precious kouhai that you’d missed so dearly.
Childhood best friends brought back together through sorcery. Yuuta’s seen that one before, and he didn’t like the ending.
You and Itadori mend the gap in your friendship like two years of no contact was nothing, falling into a pattern that’s so easy and familiar, that it’s painful for Yuuta to watch. The assumption that you’d died, and the knowledge that Yuuji had actually died only served to strengthen your vows to protect each other in the name of your friendship from here on out.
Yuuta considers putting his own sword through his chest if it means you’ll swear your devotion to him. If he died, would you cry for him? Would you pray over his grave and beg for him to come back to you?—or would you find comfort in those who kept living, find solace in a friend who came back for you and can still hold you in his arms?
“Tsuna tsuna,” he hears from his left, followed by a mischievous giggle. Toge’s taunting is hardly enough to pull Yuuta out of his cloud of rage, but the blunt end of Maki’s staff is.
“Will you stop pining so damn hard?” she sneers, whipping the staff back to her side and placing a hand on her hip, “Not only is it pathetic, it’s gonna attract curses like flies to honey.”
“Why am I the only one getting hit?” He turns to his right to motion to Megumi, who seems to be brooding just as hard. Megumi respects you, but it was easy to see that he was reaching his limit on sharing his recently revived lover with someone else. Maki huffs, “Because he doesn’t have a literal cloud of darkness looming around him.”
Yuuta sighs, doing his best to reign in his feelings, but it’s pointless once he hears your laughter across the field—light and airy and sunshiney and all because of Itadori Yuuji.
What were you two talking about? If Itadori were out of the way, would you pledge yourself to Yuuta? Did he ever hold a space comparable to Itadori in your heart—would you let him?
A broken chord strikes Yuuta’s heart when he realizes that Itadori is the person you told him about last year; the person you missed so much, and you never thought you’d be able to see again; the person that Yuuta reminded you of; the person he was happy and eager to be for you. And now, in knowing Itadori, Yuuta thinks that his willingness was beautifully naive—to think that he could compare to someone like this. Itadori is light, where Yuuta is dark; he sees the best in people, where Yuuta manages to come off on the wrong foot always; he perseveres in faith and determination, where Yuuta is fueled by an anxious desire to prove, prove, prove himself to be worth something to anybody.
He can see how easy it is to love Itadori. It’s easy to cling to faith, to believe in something higher than yourself, to know that someone above can pull you up. Yuuta cannot compete where he cannot compare; he’s a shadow that engulfs you, takes you away from light, a dream that’s hard to wake up from. He could never be bright to you; his best attempt would probably drive you and him too close to the sun, martyred for love in burning flames.
Still, even in all his jealousy, Yuuta comes to the even more sobering realization that making Itadori disappear wouldn’t fix his problems. You told him he wasn’t Itadori’s replacement, but maybe that’s because he could never be him; maybe he doesn’t have to be. Yuuji could never be him, and he could never be Yuuji, but whether Yuuta likes it or not, he and Itadori are two sides of the same coin; and as such, Yuuta has, begrudgingly, grown to feel the same sense of responsibility over the younger boy that you do.
So, even though he never expected that they would both be at the mercy of your hand at the same time in this lifetime, he absolutely cannot kill Itadori Yuuji. Not only would it make you sad, but it would probably make Yuuta even sadder in the end, somehow. What a bother.
He’s about to get up—to leave, maybe go over there, he doesn’t know yet—but he stops when he hears a calm buzzing by his ear. Yuuta blinks, slowly, shoulders relaxing unconsciously, allowing the larger than normal honey-bee to land on him. He recognizes it as one of your shikigami—and even if he hadn’t, that familiar, cooling sensation that washes over him would have let him know—so, gently, he lifts a hand across his torso, allowing it to crawl onto his finger, and strum its tune.
Yuuta can feel a few more, hear them humming around him, and he closes his eyes, lets the small group of bees flutter around him and all that looming jealousy dissipates from his body.
Faintly, past the calm hum of the small swarm, Yuuta can hear the call of Yuuji’s voice, petulant, “Aw, no fair. Fushiguro, I want calming shikigami, too! Can you bring out the bunnies? Please.”
Beside him, Toge and Maki seem bemused by his newly calmed state, then amused when Megumi sighs, stands, and reluctantly pulls his hands together before a couple dozen white rabbits flood the field and hop onto Yuuji.
The buzzing grows softer, and then quiet. Briefly, Yuuta feels a bee land on his cheek, before it flies away, leaving the smell of fresh pollen in his wake, and when he blinks his eyes open again, you’re there, in front of him with a smile sweeter than anything he’s ever known.
“Hope they didn’t scare you,” you muse, waving a finger before the last bee hovering around you disappears, “You seemed upset, everything alright?”
He’s about to open his mouth to say something, anything, when he’s cut off by Itadori Yuuji once again, with one bunny on either shoulder, and three more cradled in his arms. “Hey, doesn’t (_____) totally remind you guys of Sakura!”
Maki scoffs, albeit with amusement, as she points her staff at Yuuji’s hair. “If anyone bears resemblance to Sakura, it’s you, Itadori.”
Yuuji actually makes an attempt to look at his own hair before chuckling. Yuuta flashes a look to Megumi, who looks equal parts exasperated and enchanted. Yuuta doesn’t get the reference, and when Inumaki starts making gestures about how Yuuji is like some Naruto guy and Yuuji screams about how Megumi resembles a Shikamaru, he becomes too afraid to ask.
You seemed charmed at the end of the discussion, when everybody fundamentally agrees that you’re the Sakura of the group. Yuuta is far less charmed by these comparisons (and it has nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t get one). He doubts that this Sakura person can do what you can do, doubts that Sakura is even worthy enough to be compared to you, whoever she may be.
And maybe Yuuta goes back to his room to watch several compilation videos about ships in Naruto later that day, but nobody has to know that. From what he’s gathered, Sakura is pretty cool, and even though Yuuji bears the most physical resemblance to her, he can see why everyone agrees that your healing abilities compare well to hers. Yuuta thinks you’re better, and he’s still holding out hope that there’s some other character equivalent for you that Itadori didn’t think of, that Yuuta can, just to prove that he knows you better. He doesn’t fight any comparisons between Gojo and Kakashi, though. That one honestly freaked him out a little.
If it turns out that you’re Sakura, then he should hope to be Sasuke, but Yuuta thinks this dude is kind of a dick. From the 47 minutes of scattered Naruto content that he’s consumed, he actually much prefers the dynamic between Sakura and Naruto, even if that does equate to Itadori Yuuji having a crush on you, at least you’re out of his league and chasing after somebody else.
Still, he thinks Sakura would be upset if Naruto actually died, or worse, if Sasuke actually killed him—never mind the fact that apparently he tried to kill her? Yuuta would never do that, but Sakura still seems to like Sasuke after all of that... in any case, Itadori Yuuji must live, and Yuuta must accept his fate as Sasuke reborn.
Though, to Yuuta’s understanding so far, Sasuke and Naruto are destined to duke it out and if only one of them has to survive, then maybe it’s not so bad to be this guy. Yuuta doesn’t know how it ends between them, but he thinks he could take on Itadori Yuuji if he had to. He won’t because he’s your friend, and Yuuta’s friend now, too, but if Itadori or the curse inside of him acts up, then Yuuta can at least rest assured he can put a stop to it. That’s not something he could have guaranteed a year ago, but now, he can.
Yuuta sighs, finally locking his phone and shoving his head under his blanket. He’s been knee deep in analyses about Sakura ships for the past two and a half hours now, and he’ll admit Sasuke is growing on him, but not much. His only saving grace seems to be that Sakura is madly, unconditionally in love with him; Yuuta wouldn’t mind having that kind of devotion from you. He turns to lay on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling and wonders: if it came down to saving only one of them, would Sakura pick Naruto or Sasuke... would you choose the boy who’s loved and looked up to you since you were kids, or the boy who sacrificed everything in hopes of gaining enough strength so that what happened to him never happens to anyone else.
Maybe they answer that in the series, Yuuta reasons. 720 episodes, at 20 minutes per episode... if he devotes about half-a-day to watching Naruto, then he can breeze through it in a little over two weeks, maybe sooner if he uses his weekends efficiently. That’s plausible, and by the end of it, Yuuta is certain that he’ll have the answers he needs—and even if it doesn’t, then at least, he’ll have one more thing to talk to you about.
In the end, Sakura picks Sasuke, Naruto marries somebody else, and Yuuta understands that the two were never opposites, but complements, and that Itadori Yuuji-shaped pit in his stomach dissipates. Still, about three weeks later at breakfast he makes the argument that if anything you’re more akin to Tsunade, minus the gambling addiction, and that gets him rave reactions from everyone, including you, who is more than happy to show him your new slug shikigami as a means of commemorating your new Naruto kin.
Believe that, Itadori.
#5 — None of this matters if you don’t kiss her. You have to kiss the girl—or she’ll get mad enough to the point where she’ll kiss you.
The following month comes your indictment into the Semi-Special Grade hall of responsibility. Yuuta vaguely recalls Gojo’s lecture on how people don’t really get promoted to Special Grade—it’s classification you’re born or cursed with, like himself, or Yuuji, or Tsukumo—but, you, of course, defy all odds and expand everything Yuuta knows. Nobody is surprised—Yuuta thinks everyone was among the similar thought that you were undoubtedly unique amongst your classmates, in a way that was different from him or Yuuji. Being born with a body that generates reversed cursed energy instead of cursed energy is deserving of Special Grade status if you asked him; he doesn’t know what pushed the higher-ups into finally acknowledging your skill, but he knows it’s well-past due. And while he’s happy you’re getting recognition for your efforts, Yuuta would never wish to saddle you with half of the shit the higher-ups put him through.
They better hope that Yuuta doesn’t find out that they’re plotting anything with you, lest they meet the end of his sword.
Part of your promotion entails a dual-degree program that will have you starting medical school next fall. Yuuta almost cries at the thought of you being sent away again, until you tell him that Gojo managed to pull a few strings this time—to fund everything and keep you in Tokyo.
And even though you’re not licensed to treat civilians yet, you’re already more than experienced with taking care of and healing your fellow sorcerers, which lends Shoko’s promotional gift to be a shiny new office, right across from hers. Yuuta is the first person you invite inside, and he brings you a photo of you, him, Maki, and Toge from last year—honestly, probably the only photo the four of you have together—to christen your desk, and a plaque with your name on it for the door, that he may or may not have fantasized about it reading with your first name and his last name on it instead.
To no surprise, your office becomes a safe haven of sorts. Yuuta would define any time or place with you as a safe haven, but there’s something special about this place. Maybe Yuuta is still leaping from this being the second time you’ve chosen him. He’s the first person to see your office, the first person to sit at your chair, your first official patient when he stubs his toe against the corner of your desk (where he left the first decorative object). Maybe it’s a little far to say that this place has him all over it as much as it does you, but Yuuta likes the sound of that.
When he comes back from gruesome missions, he’s invited to let himself in, no matter how much blood he’s covered in, and you’ll be there to take care of him. It’s not different than before—not different than even last year when he’d waddled in your shadow to the room across the hall and sat down with heart palpitations while you fixed his wrist—but something about this feels special. It holds a different weight than hanging out in your dorm or cooking together in the kitchen; this office is yours, the things you say and do to him here are confidential, the yearning for and almost-kisses you almost have are for you and him alone; within these four walls, you’re free to curse him completely.
So, he’s understandably upset when your office becomes a cozy corner for the other students as well. Maki likes to take refuge inside to study alone, Panda and Toge have been caught on more than one occasion attempting to wrap gauze around each other like zombies, Megumi uses your supplies and basic first-aid lessons to prepare small kits for him and the other first-years, hell, even Gojo has been found asleep in your office on more than one occasion. He gets why people are drawn to you like a magnet, why you’re comforting, and welcoming, and a source of warmth for them, but that doesn’t mean that Yuuta likes to share you. It’s much harder to almost-kiss you this way.
He must have pouted loud enough about it, because shortly after, instead of inviting Yuuta to your office for lunch, you ask him to meet you on the field. Not one to question you, he obeys, and soon, instead he’s met with an entirely new safe haven, sitting criss-cross inside your domain with all your shikigami slithering and fluttering and buzzing about him. A butterfly lands on his nose, and Yuuta’s nose crinkles. You lean in to let it crawl on your finger instead, and don’t lean too far back when you slowly begin to explain to him the intricacies of your domain and how it all comes together.
It’s amazing, surely. Yuuta listens as best he can, but it’s hard when there’s a halo of butterflies around you, and a symphony of bees buzzing in his ear, and a slug kissing at his hand, and a snake coiling around his body and gently massaging his muscles, and your voice sound so soft and warm, and you look so pretty and, and, and he wants to kiss you again.
He wants to kiss you really badly. He wonders if that’s part of your domain—honestly, he’d wondered if that magnetic, honey-like attraction he has to you is in any part influenced by your healing nature—wonders if the confines of your space exacerbates the flow of blood to his heart and his cheeks and his—
“Are you listening?” you question, that glowing, addictive smile on your face, “You know I can make the snake bite, the bees sting.”
God, Yuuta wants to kiss you. He wants to live in the spring garden of your love forever, and ever, and roll around in the grass and drink honey with you, and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. You could keep him here forever, he’d be perfectly content with living his days wrapped up in your curse.
Yuuta shakes his head to snap out of his daydream, disrupting a few butterflies in the process. “I—sorry,” he apologies, “I’m listening now.”
You hum, folding your legs underneath your knees and sitting before him. Yuuta’s certain he looks slightly ridiculous, covered head to toe in animals and small insects and burning underneath your gaze—wasn’t this domain supposed to help people feel better? Is there no cure for lovesickness that you can use on him—or, at the very least, embarrassment?
“I asked you why you won’t kiss me.”
Yuuta knows that if he weren’t in your domain right now, he would have fallen to a sudden death. “I—I, um,” words, Yuuta, words; a bee lands on his cheek, he takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”
That doesn’t seem like the right answer, judging by the twist of your lips. Of course it’s not—because it’s a lie, and you know it, and you know he knows that you know it. How could he be sorry for wanting you, for spending every last waking moment breathing for you, hoping that you’ll end his laborious breaths and pour air into him yourself?
“You know, I brought you in here to make sure that you wouldn’t run or pass out on me,” you confess, reaching out your hand towards him; the tip of your finger barely grazes his cheek as you allow the bee to crawl onto you, “I worry about your heart more than I should.”
You flick your finger gently, allowing the bee to flutter freely and your eyes to focus back on Yuuta’s, “Right now, in this domain, it’s mine to control. To stop, to beat.” It’s yours outside of here, too; to fix, to break. He knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. “Why won’t you let me have it, Yuuta?”
Yuuta gasps, and despite his surprise, despite his extreme lovesickness, despite his dark desires, his heartbeat remains steady, his body remains perfectly tempered and cool, his voice resonates clearly—all because of you.
“You’ve always had it,” he confesses, “Always. From the moment I met you.”
He can’t read your expression. He’s suddenly hyper aware of the power struggle here; domain aside, you can hear everything about him, sense the slightest physiological change in him, alter any one of his bodily functions at your whim and Yuuta doesn’t know what goes on in you. Would it be wrong to confess that he likes it; that this feels like you having him, that he likes knowing you can take him?
“I thought so, maybe,” you enlighten him, “Last year with all the calls and texts,” you lean over and set free a butterfly from his shoulder, “And then in the airport,” then guiding the snake to coil around your arm and around your torso, “And then I thought maybe you’d have said something when you were jealous of Yuuji,” this time your hand touches him, a feather-light touch to his elbow, “But you didn’t, and I was beginning to wonder if I was hearing your heart beat for someone else, instead.”
Yuuta grabs at your hand erratically, “No—no. Never.”
He’s senselessly in love with you, and if it weren’t for your healing hands, Yuuta’s certain his ribs would have cracked from the pressure of his happy heart by now; but then again, maybe he should ask you to let it break—let that fracture serve as an entry point for you and yours, to prove to you that it beats for you and you alone.
“So then what is with you? You have a habit of giving girls your heart and not kissing them, or asking them out—is it always straight to marriage with you?”
It’s torture hearing that word fall from your lips. He doesn’t have time to even begin to process it. Yuuta’s eyes flicker to the smile on your lips, the slight tilt of your head. He says something he shouldn’t, “Would you be opposed to that?”
“I’d like a kiss first,” you tease, “Would you give me one?”
And how could he ever deny you anything. There, with a harmony of beautiful insects and warm sunlight, Yuuta finally, finally, takes the last move forward to kiss you. It’s everything he wants and exactly as he’d imagined—he can feel the rush in his bones, the want in his stomach, the love against his skin when you fall into him.
It’s one kiss, and another, and then Yuuta can feel your tongue against his, greedily falling into the rush of you. He’s everywhere, hands on your neck, lips on yours, body stradling yours when he carefully leans you backwards; Yuuta has you, and you have him, and he won’t let this moment go to waste. He pulls away for a moment, only a moment, to take in your kiss-swollen lips and commit this vision to memory. He’ll have to take another visual photograph outside of your domain, when your bodies are free to breathe erratically and equilibrium is broken so you and truly, truly, feel all of Yuuta’s love in earnest.
He wonders if it’s the effect of your domain that prevents his nerves from running haywire when you take off his shirt, when you let him take off your pants, when you have your hands on his chest and his on your hips. It must be. Yuuta knows for certain that otherwise, he’d be a blushing mess of fumbling limbs and stuttering words.
Still, Yuuta thinks, domain or no domain, he wouldn’t let this moment pass him. It’s not nerves when his hand brushes over your clothed clit and he hears you moan—even if it had been, that would have been the antidote to his poison. Lust, pressure, possession wash over him in excruciating waves. He wants more. He wants you.
Impatience when he adds pressure with his hand, bliss when you buck your hips to add more of your own, greedily grinding against his fingers. Yuuta kisses you again, swallows your moans and feeds you his own when slips his hand past the barrier of your underwear, and he feels your warm, wet cunt against his fingertips for the first time, and when he pushes two fingers into your heat, he thinks he could cum right then and there, from this alone.
“Yu—Yuuta, more,” you plead. Your hand on his neck, fingernails scraping into his skin that should leave a mark. They probably won’t. He’ll be sure that next time they stick.
And Yuuta, unable to deny you anything, obeys. He curls his fingers inside of you, thrusting gently at first, and then with more confidence—and warning, when he hears you snarl about not teasing. Ironic, he thinks, as he watches your lips fall open, since you’ve had him strung along since day one.
“I wanna—wanna cum with you inside,” you moan, a sound that Yuuta promises to commit to memory. Later, when his brain is working better, and the coil in his stomach isn’t so tight, and you’re not clenching around his fingers.
You’re greedy, and Yuuta’s never realized it. You suck him in and still want more, and you must know that he’ll give it to you. It should serve as a warning, you have the high-ground to take him any which way you want—for a fool, for granted, for yourself, for nobody else; so what does it say about him that it only spurs his arousal, that it makes him impossibly hard and he can feel himself leaking from the thought of it.
“I want that, too,” he reassures you, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, because you’re perfect for him, “But I want this first. Give me this first, please. Please.”
He thinks you might cry. The rational part of him knows you can regulate it, that you probably won’t; the sick part of him wants to see it, wants to know what it takes to make you lose control.
You call his name like a prayer, once, twice, and on the third time, Yuuta can feel it as much as he can hear it. He can feel the moment that your walls clench, and your eyes screw shut, and your body convulses around him. You’re beautiful, irreverent, and Yuuta thinks that being responsible for this is the greatest achievement of his life.
He wears your orgasm with pride, raking over you as you blink your eyes open to him again. You’re lucid too quickly, he really is going to have to take the time to enjoy this somewhere less controlled later, eagerly wrapping your hand around his wrist and forcing them to his mouth. Yuuta groans when he tastes you on his tongue, nothing short of euphoric, and he’s sure to taste every last drop.
You smile, and then laugh—an almost inaudibly giggle that has Yuuta smiling back reflexively. Like always, he follows your every move and succumbs to all your whims when you lean up to kiss him, and then coax off his pants and underwear, and line the tip of his dick up with your slit and pull him in, again, by the neck to bite at his ear, “Come on, Yuuta. Give it to me.”
An order, a promise, a plea—Yuuta vows to fulfill them all, determined and spell-bound when he sinks into you. He can only imagine what it feels like for you, but for him it’s warm, wet, soft, snug, sticky—like honey, like a bee drawn to sweetness. It’s good, too good, Yuuta doesn’t know how to last when you feel this good.
He can feel you everywhere, around his dick, your hands on his back, your breath on his cheek, your skin against his. He feels stuck to you, stuck in you, mind, body, and soul as one, unable to differentiate him from you, from you, from you.
“Fuck,” Yuuta stares, carefully swiping a thumb over your browbone, conscious but not in command on how deep he’s thrusting into you, “You’re so—fuck, I love you.” He wants to hear you say it back, he needs to, he has to. He can feel it again, stomach in knots, and nerves on fire, and skin sticky, and Yuuta has to know—“Please, please. Do you love me, too?”
You stutter, only from the rock of his hips into yours, reaching for his face and cradling it between healing hands, “Of course I love you, Yuuta.” His mouth opens, wobbly, and tears flow over his eyes—briefly, Yuuta thinks that it’s cruel that you’d let him cry; that you have command over every function in his body and that you’d let him cry, but he can’t bring himself to be upset. He’d probably have cried regardless, because hearing you say that you love him is a rush comparable only to burning tightness in his gut right now.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling his lips to yours when you finally let go together. Yuuta can feel you tight around him, when he cums; and an unfiltered harmony of moans and skin on skin when he lays on top of you, sinks into you. Your hands don’t leave his hair, and Yuuta finds bliss in your affection, in being in your arms, in being yours.
He doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, he doesn’t know if physical time passes in your domain, but it doesn’t matter. He’d stay here forever with you, let you use the full extent of your prowess to eat his heart out as sustenance, bleed for you to quench your thirst. He’d be everything you need and more; he’ll make sure that he’s all you want when it’s done and over.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x reader#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta smut#yuta smut#yuuta fluff#yuuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu#jjk scenarios#jjk imagines#jjk fake texts#jjk fanfic#jjk#jjk fanart#OKAAAAAAAAAY#gojo smut
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His Words Are Pretty (JenniexKai) - Warm Bodies (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1387586786-his-words-are-pretty-jenniexkai-warm-bodies?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading Growing up isn't supposed to be that hard; you have to do it. The only problem was him. Every. Word. I. Held. On. To. I shouldn't have listened, but how could I not? His voice. Those words. Only one word comes to mind. When his words bring her safety, but her presence saves him, there is no room for another love. If growing up is not hard enough, death and time take over. When you think it wouldn't matter to you, it happens when you least expect it.
#badboy#blackpink#bts#btsfanfic#college#exo#exofanfic#fandom#fanfiction#jennie#jenniekim#jenniexkai#jenniextaehyung#jong-in#jongin#kai#kaiexo#kpop#kpopfanfic#kpopidols#lovestory#lovetriangle#taehyung#thriller#trauma#romance#books#wattpad#amreading
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