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#but i was hype for backpack
hoarding-stories · 13 days
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Phineas: “Hang on. I’m sorry, just a sec. I thought you were Pom’s intern? Have you secretly been working for Kozma the entire time?” Narrator 2: Of course he’s ALSO surprised to see renowned inventor Agatha Ledge and Company member Gretel, but for some reason the Backpack revelation is really blowing his mind.
In which Phineas is all of us
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kaythefloppa · 7 months
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New S7 WK Eps - [Spoiler Free] Review + Predictions/Thoughts:
New Wild Kratts Season 7 episodes are on the premises after a 4-month hiatus. The episodes were found on https://metadatabank.pbs.org by a few Twitter users, with premises to boot.
Two of the episodes were uploaded on the TVO Kids' YouTube Channel. For anyone who doesn't know, full episodes of PBS Kids shows are uploaded on that channel and are only accessible directly to Canadian viewers. The only way U.S. viewers can access them is through a VPN.
To prevent heavy spoilers, especially for those who don't have a VPN/want to wait until the episodes come out in America, I won't provide any links. I have watched the first two episodes of the new batch, and I will be doing a [spoiler-free] review of them below the cut, again, because I know that not everyone is going to/is able to immediately hop onto a VPN and watch the eps months before they air on television. The other 2 episodes are yet to be televised or uploaded, so anything I say about them will be pure speculation until the U.S. airdate.
This is not a 100% spoiler-free thread. If you have seen the episodes on the VPN and intend on reblogging with spoilers, use the spoiler tag/cut appropriately; Spoilery comments in the thread are prohibited overall because there's no way to loop around that, so bear in mind:
Backpack the Camel:
The gang travels to the Gobi Desert to discover the last remaining wild camels in the world. They experience the harshness of the desert landscape and are rescued from it only by the wild Bactrian camels and their amazing survival skills.
No Name Dream:
Martin has a dream that he's forgotten to name some baby animals and awakens in a sweat. Aviva tries to reassure him that he named them all, but Koki, after checking the data base, confirms that Martin's right! The Wild Kratts' mission is to go back and name all the ,unnamed, and along the way, learn more about their creaturenality and share some wow facts about their animal friends!
Fish Out of Water:
After a Creature Power Disc mishap, the bros become marooned in the world of a mudskipper, a fish that can walk on land. They must find their discs within a foreign world of intense competition, with unexpected dangers at every turn
Our Blue and Green World: Parts 1 & 2:
While doing their annual Laundry Day, the Kratt Brothers disagree on what's better; blue oceans or green forests. Can the gang get Martin and Chris back in synch in time to save Planet Earth from Zach and Paisley's villainous plans?
Again, no confirmed airdates, so we know what we're in for, but we'll just have to wait. But I'll post my disjointed thoughts and predictions on each episode in this big-ass compiled post bc I'm too lazy for separate posts:
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Backpack the Camel - REVIEW
How the fuck did it take us 12.5 years to get a camel episode? There was literally a live-action opener featuring camels and llamas which segwayed into a fucking Koala episode? I know it doesn't really matter, but it's so jarring
The episode's humor is..... not that good. It feels like they were trying too hard to make it "meme" material with a recurring facial gag but it gets old really quickly. Luckily it's not present throughout the episode, and compared to previous scenes in the show (ex. that awful dabbing and floss scene from the ant episode), it's pretty tame.
The camels in this episode are beautifully animated. I swear to god, you could clearly tell that they wanted the camels to look as detailed as possible but still retaining that WK-style look.
The Camel Power Suit, I thought it was going to be awful and at first I hated, but it actually turned out to be pretty good. It gets right what a the more recent quadrupedal power suits get wrong. Though I’m fairly certain that this is going to be an unpopular opinion once the episode comes out.
Wild Kratts has a pretty good track record for debunking animal myths so if you're frustrated with how the mainstream media misrepresents camels or how many myths and misconceptions about them are spread, then this episode is definitely for you.
Ranking: 7/10
No Name Dream - REVIEW
We started off the season with Chris angst and now we’ve got Martin angst. I can’t comment too much on the dream sequence but… let’s just say that the animators were having a lot of fun with it. It’s giving Zooboomafoo vibes if anything.
I feel like MK IRL realized that there were some unnamed baby animals, and decided to write this episode as a meta ref to that. Overall, it feels like the most self-insert-y episode of the show to date (even moreso than Liturgusa Krattorum)
This episode highlights what Wild Kratts does better than most shows nowadays. It knows how to do fanservice correctly. Mainly in the form of callbacks to inventions/locations, power suits, and animals that we haven’t seen in years. The reason they do this correctly is because they don’t do it for the sake of it, there’s a very intriguing plot around it that gives it a point/purpose and it overall makes sense. The crew goes around naming unnamed baby animals from past adventures. That’s something I have wanted to see in years (I even made up my own fan-names for some baby animals that didn’t get a name, though one of them is rendered non-canon in the ep.)
In fact, the modern seasons of the show do this pretty damn well, what with the return of Aviva’s rollerblades in the S6 finale, the tellurium crystal cameo in the raven episode, giving Paisley Paver a solo role in this season, and this episode, where we get a lot of cool callbacks to the earlier seasons when the crew travels around the world to name the unnamed. I think the reason they do this is because they know that after 10 years, people are going to get nostalgic - That and because PBS Kids’ horrible scheduling that forces viewers at home to wait months or even years for new episodes to come out, makes the show runners try and work their way around it through the episode’s quality, so that if it’s great, or hell, even if it’s good, that would compensate for the episode’s wait. It’s one of the many things that gives me hope for Season 7.
I kid you not, there is one scene in this episode that made me scream at my iPad when I first watched it. It’s clearly fanservice, but in the best degree. I’m not going to give ANY hints because it’s too spoilery, but let’s just say, as someone who is a longtime viewer of the show since S1, and has been begging for years for untapped stuff in the earlier episodes to make a comeback, this certain scene in this episode felt like an extremely detailed love-letter to my childhood, if not a very clever witty response to my brainrotting on the blog. This scene is kinda why I’m very adamant about the “no spoilers” thing; The majority of the fandom needs to see this scene televised.
The baby animal’s names vary. Some are cringe, (I guess,) some are okay, and then some are actually alright. Also, cute baby animals!!!!!
Ranking: 8/10
Fish Out of Water - Predictions/Thoughts:
Again, almost 13 years to give us a mudskipper episode? If it wasn’t for that one episode of Octonaughts, I wouldn’t have even known what a mudskipper was if you showed it to me. Side-note, mudskippers are cool.
Ok but a Creature Power Disc mishap? Even after getting disc-holders, these mf still loose these damn discs 😭
Going back to the “WK magazines show Creature Powers of future episodes,” there was a page of a mudskipper shown in a magazine from 2019 that I cannot for the life of me find.
Mudskippers live in Borneo. I hope this implies that we’ll see more animals/Creature Powers of that location since we haven’t gotten it since S4 (more than 5 years ago).
Here’s a Wow Fact about Mudskippers: Their eyes bulge out of their heads unlike other fish and can move independently from each other (not unlike chameleons). They can also live on land apparently and, well… they skip pretty well. I’m expecting the name of a mudskipper to be something like “Skippy” or “Skipper” or something along those lines.
Oh, these motherfuckers can also CLIMB.
Our Blue and Green Earth - Predictions/Thoughts:
This episode was hyped during the premiere marathon week of S7, where Martin originally called the special “Blue and Green: The Living Earth” and listed the animals we’d be seeing in the new special.
Honestly, am I the only one who’s kinda bummed that this is the 8th/9th episode of the season? I mean, didn’t the article that first disclosed this special say that S7 would be breaking the 200 episode milestone? I feel like a huge one-hour special with an aesthetic title like that would be a good contender for Episode 200. Unless this was 200th episode of the show to be produced, but the network fucked up and broadcasted this special early and had another one in its place… it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done that though.
I’ve gone on about a Paisley/Donita team up, but Zach and Paisley also fit too. Both have a grey aesthetic, have alliterative names, are executive CEOs who are both implied to get away from the law via nepotism/capitalism. And both villains have engaged in logging and habitat destruction. Whilst Donita and Paisley have an “opposites attract” thing going on with them when you put them together (which is one of the million reasons why I hardcore ship them), Zach and Paisley are like two peas in a pod.
I guess this is another “disagree” episode, like in Fireflies, Bass Class, or Wolf Hawks. Don’t know how they can drag it out for 40 minutes but let’s see how they do it.
I think they may be planning this as an Earth Day special. Blue and Green, whilst associated with the Kratt Bros, are also associated with the Planet Earth, so it makes sense to air this on Earth Day. Additionally, the 100th episode, Animals Who Live to Be 100 Years Old, had aired as an Earth Day special, as part of a week-long Earth Day marathon of S4 episodes (including Spirit Bear, Paisley’s debut episode). So I think it would be thematically appropriate to air this episode on Earth Day.
I think it’d be like, really funny if the double-episode had the “blue” as one part, written by Martin, and the “green” as another part, written by Chris.
I predict that the climax of the episode will involve the brothers having to defend the opposite climate of their preference. Like, Chris using Blue Whale Powers to defend the ocean animals from the Zachbots, and Martin using Indri Powers to rescue the forests from the Pavers. This is what brings them back in synch after realizing that blue and green are equally important and can rightfully co-exist… just like them (awww).
If there is not a Blue Whale Suit, I might actually cry.
Let’s hope that these episodes air on TV at the end of the year because this hiatus is killing me.
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wastelesscrafts · 2 years
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Good morning! I extended the life of my favourite backpack by sewing covers for the straps, which were falling apart. I'm really pleased with how it turned out! :)
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[ID: 3 photo's of a galaxy-themed backpack with worn-out shoulder straps in progress of being mended. Photo 1 shows a close-up of a very worn-out strap. Photo 2 shows a black piece of fabric that's been folded and pinned into a long rectangle. Photo 3 shows the backpack: the worn-out strap has been covered with black fabric.]
Good job, that looks like really clean work!
I'm impressed by how much use/love that backpack must have seen. Mending it will only add to its charm, I'm sure.
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helladventurers · 25 days
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aaaaaand endwalker beaten 🥳 it had its ups and downs but overall it was a pretty good expansion and end to this game's first saga lol liters of tears were spilled, lots of hype moments were enjoyed and a fair bit of salty complaining has been had, good stuff
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missr3n3 · 11 months
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when u want to draw fanart of a robot character but u also suck at drawing robots OTL
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shadowedvalesa · 1 year
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Back aches in knowing tone,  posture dragged to unbearable weights.  Ghosts of pastime swirling,  circling entire figure,  attempting to break physical spirits and emotional catalysts.  Experience isn’t eternal:  fades on blossomed bruises,  swarms like maggots into the brain.  YET MEMORY IS FOREVER.  MEMORY IS LINGERING AND AWFUL AND SUFFOCATING—  BUT IT’S WORTH RESTEPPING FOR THE SAKE OF WHOM SHE ADORES.  Fire spits,  forms ‘round curving spine,  grinded teeth flattening any opportunity to speak seeded thoughts;  honesty a strong suit,  respected in her core deep.  Alas,  when prospects of mentality arises?  Jane reprimanded to confront and reveal own fleshed experiences?  Difficulty pursues gravely:  though she’d prevail.  Always prevail.  Unrelenting curse of their small town lingers in each crevice of her stolen youth;  I shan’t succumb.  Never.
Glances @telekinsis​ beside a sombre smile;  not quite reaching eyes,  however cornering those somehow still innocent dimples into cheeks.  Cold wind rustles loose strands of hair which have escaped the tight ponytail held at the base of her neck.  Contemplation drips off tongue before bitten back—  this would be good for them both.  Fate remains pale as skies rumble red and streets gain less population;  at least Jane found Temperance within extreme haste.  Unexpected and riveting  /  SISTER GAINED INSIDE DESTRUCTION.  Three breaths inhaled and exhaled,  backpack strapped upon shoulders is pulled down,  cradled against stomach as free hand fishes to concealed containments.  Retrieves two battery - powered torches,  lights flicked on,  one handed out to TJ.  They’re barely a few steps outside broken doors;  what once stood as a sturdy entrance exists only by fragments.  An omen:  first step into haunted walls erected with careful necessity to avoid shattered glass.  What else shall await?  One couldn’t know.  Jane can already hear Papa’s voice calling from awaiting darkness.  What other ghosts shall confront me here?
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“  Are you ready?  ”     Jane speaks tenderly,  manoeuvring bag back    (packed specifically in case of unknowing situations;  she’d been prepping all night),    final breath departed eluding confidence.  Left hand outstretched towards sister,  fingers curling to invite connection carried since joined beginnings.     “  We must be brave.  We can do it.  ”     The Void is constantly so very real in her visits  —  shadow on her skin,  in heart  —  but this    ( ... )   Oh,  it’s worse than ever imagined.  But you’re hardly alone anymore,  child.  You can triumph alongside your family.
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I appreciate these friends I made at college cause I don’t have to push myself to talk when I’m nonverbal and I don’t have to hide when I’m stimming or even the fact that I do and they will listen to my rambles about my interests like Scar and his builds or his silly shenanigans or when I’m explaining how Redstone machines work that I’ve built on our server and it’s just..
It’s nice. I don’t have to pretend. I just be myself and I won’t be judged for it. They’ll even help me with stuff when I’m having trouble.
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animeshotsh · 3 months
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Family meeting | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader
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Summary: Lucifer wants you to meet Charlie, the only problem? He needs to go to the hotel.
PT2 Of This and a full one shot of this.
Warnings: Off Canon in terms of time | Mentions of past abuse | Cursing | Reader gets loved by everybody | Probably some OOC | SFW | Grammar mistakes |
Lucifer undertood, really, he knew Charlie was too worried about her Hotel to ever leave it alone. He also felt bad about asking her to just come home to meet you, after all he was not a present figure in her life.
"(Y/n) are you ready ?" Lucifer called you who went to him with a cancerberus plush on your hand and a backpack with some toys.
"Im!" You declared showing off your things, and letting out a smile. You were now dressed in the best quality clothes Lucifer could afford, he had to take a moment to snap a pic of you (again).
"Let not keep them waiting then" Lucifer said taking you and supporting you on his hip, his wings out.
"ARE WE GOING TO FLY THERE?" You screamed making the house shake, your hyped self could not be contained.
"Yes, what better way to travel?" Lucifer joked. The first time you two took a fly together Lucifer was distracted and ended up dropping you. His reaction time was fast so he was able to catch you, already making promises to never fly again with you but your laught stopped him, turns out you loved to fly and loved the adrenaline from falling. Lucifer found it strange but decided not to question it.
He later went to the internet to look for more information.
Once you two took fly everything felt at peace (and you two were in hell...). Demons and sinners could see their King, no one dared to mess with him. Some ignored him, others bowed and some even waved at you.
From the Sky, the city seemed beautiful in its own type of way. The fire from fights and the buildings falling apart...big neon adverstiments...
If you were honest you liked hell.
Lucifer felt your self become sleepy making him smile. This would usually happen, something about flying with him relaxed you. Maybe being with the king of hell and on top of that flying around the city made you feel Powerfull and protected, enough to make you dizzy. Closing your eyes you let the feel of the wind caress your skin as Lucifer's wings moved towards the Hotel.
~☆~☆~☆~
Charlie was not nervous, not at all!!
That was a lie. Charlie was so stressed over his dad coming to the hotel and with you no less. When he had called her and asked to meet up she had said she had too much work (and it was true) then after listening to how he wanted her to meet you and how you have been asking about her.
Her heart could not take it so she accepted, saying she would make the hotel the safest place for you.
"Husk, put the alcohol away, OH! And be sure to remove any broken glass" Charlie exclaimed getting the most are you for real look from Husk.
Any sharp object had been locked down, weapons hided away and they even took extra care of things that could fall over you.
"Angel, try to...keep the sex jokes as...."
"As good as a good suck in a alley corner after some Drugs?" Angel asked getting an annoyed look from Vaggie. "Fine, I get it. Im not a monster you know" he responded offended going for a drink only to get some appel juice from Husk.
"Princess rules" he simple said.
Vaggie was behind Charlie as she went on checking everything. This was worse than one Lucifer had first come, this was Lucifer and you. The New kid, the new lil relative of Charlie.
"And- and did we get Alastor to go out?" Charlie asked Vaggie knowing how him and his dad were not at good terms.
"Well..."
"Now my dear, why would you want me away?" Alastor asked appearing besides her. "Its because your dad its coming today? Dont worry the hotel wont suffer any type of damage" he promised bowing "or maybe a bit"
~☆~☆~☆~☆
The sound of the door being opened alerted everyone. Charlie was sweating as she saw her dad entering with a small kid on his arms. Puffy sheep skin and cat hears and tail could be seen but their face was pressed against Lucifer's chest.
"Charlie!! Its so good to see you again" Lucifer exclaimed getting closer. "Sorry, (Y/N) felt asleep when coming here" he explained looking down with a lovely father gaze at the kid.
"Oh...thats...thats fine!! We have made everything kids safe for the time (Y/N) is here" Charlie responded still stressed, however now seeing you in the flesh and not only by photos her dad would send her, her heart softened at your sleepy form.
"Well, not everything..." Lucifer let out a groul seeing the Radio Demon who stood with his usual smile.
"Greetings your majesty, I never expected to be seeing you again so soon, maybe grow a few inches instead of getting kids from the streets on your free time"
"Hahaha, oh at least kids like me" Lucifer responded going towards Alastor.
"Hahaha only because you are their size"
"Hahaha, or because I dont have that broken record voice"
"Hahaha, fuck you"
The small beef between them was enough to wake you up, looking up you first saw Lucifer's face. A very angry look then the look of another Demon, a redish one that looked like a deer.
"...are these your ears or hair?" You asked half sleep getting everyones attention.
~☆~☆~☆~☆
"Oh ignore him, we are here to meet with by daugther!!" Lucifer quickly turned around making you face Charlie. He carefully let you down on the ground and saw how you went to her.
Charlie went to your eye level, her heart beating fast. "Hello! Im Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!!" She cringed at her introduction, laughts from Angel and Husk could be hear at the back.
"Im (Y/N)! Are you my older sister?" You asked moving your head to the side taking her appearence, no doubt she was Lucifer's child, she had a different aura, something cheerful and good, something your insticts told you to reach for.
Charlie's mouth went dry, her eyes having now tears as she remember the story her father told her about you, about how you ended in hell. How unfair it was and how Heaven would not listen.
"Y-yes Im" she responded trying to content her tears then almost getting knocked off when you hugged her. Your soft hair rubbing against her cheeck.
"I always wanted a sister"
Vaggie had to look away to keep her emotions in check. She undertood the malice from heaven and was thankul you had ended in Lucifer's way. Her heart broke a bit seeing your small form hugging her gilfriend.
Heaven its damed she tought to herself.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
"And this is Angel Dust!" Charlie presented you the spider Demon who was looking down as he was thinking about someone else.
"Hello Kiddo" he ruffled your hair getting a laught from you.
"You have four arms?" You asked looking at Angel who showed them then picked you up
"You bet!! And do you know what form arms can do?"
Everyone was holding their breaths now.
"Lots of ticklets!!" He finally responded tickling you. Your laught and smile resonated in the hotel. Your cat hears moving from side to side as Angel tickled you with a small smile of his own.
~☆~☆~☆~
You pulled Angel around the hotel, telling different tales you have been reading from Lucifer's private collection. Angel just nodded at you, he took note of how your eyes would light up when you were talking about a favorite character or a special part of a story.
It melted his heart.
"I want juice" You suddendly said stopping and making Angel almost fall over you. Luckly he was able to catch his balance.
Juice? Angel thought then smirked looking at a very sober and pissed Husk.
"Here, this one makes the best drinks and im sure he has some juices for you" Angel said taking you towars Husk who was giving Angel a very do not dare look.
"Uhhh, he seems scary" you said softly looking at Husk while Angel seated you carefully.
"Scary? Pff he is just sober" Angel said getting a confused look from you.
"I mean-"
"What would you like kid?" Husk asked keeping his voice with no emotion. He had hear you said he looked scary and honestly, that was funny. By the fact that you had touched Alastor's hair and ears earlier and you got the radio Demon to almost break his cool.
Yeah not scared over the radio Demon but scared of him? You were something.
He passed you a juice with appels. You were quick to forget your fear as you sipped the drink looking at Husk. "I liken your wings"
Husk looked a bit suprised but soon relaxed giving you a easy smile.
"I like your horns...what are you?" He finally asked getting an annoyed look from Angel.
"Well...im not sure?" You responded now feeling shy.
"You are a sinner my Dear!" The voice of Alastor echoed as one of his shadows picked you up keeping you from touching his hair again.
"And who are you?" You asked back macking Alastor glitch, static forming around him but then going away.
"Im Alastor, the Radio Demon! I have a show, maybe you ever listen to it or you prefer these boxes..."
"You mean tvs?" Alastor nodded "I used to watch a bit during mornings but...my father hated when we did it he would scream at me and-" your voice broke making everyone look towards you Lucifer almost going for the Demon's neck.
"Oh you poor thing" Alastor said deep down (very deep) feeling bad. Memories of his own life coming to haunt him. "Then here!" He made a move and a old fashined radio appear "this radio hosts only my shows, and no one will be angry at you because you listen to it" He said smiling at you, his shadow still holding you and playing with your horns as Alastor watched Lucifer for a reaction.
"Uh...thank you Mister" You finally said getting a lick from the shadow itself.
"No problems Dear and if you ever need a New dad you know for who to look" He smirked at Lucifer.
"But Lucifer its my dad..." you responded, radio in your tiny hands "...could you be my uncle?" You asked innocently ignoring who you were talking to, one of the most powerfull Overlords in the circle.
Alastor moved his head his shadow getting you closer to him, he took a moment to examine your soul. So pure and so...so unlike him.
Alastor could be chained to someone, but right now the only one who could hold a leash on him was you.
"Of course Dear" he finally responded taking you from his shadow and to his arms.
"And can I play with your hair?"
"Hahaha, absolutly not"
Lucifer was being hold in the back by Charlie and Vaggie sending daggers to the Demon.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~
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gyuswhore · 5 months
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Fifteen to Forever
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"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."
PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader
SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.
CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it
WORD COUNT: 6k
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[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33
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It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me. 
But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone. 
There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside. 
Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building. 
You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years. 
Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.” 
By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you. 
Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends. 
You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day. 
“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”
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You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong. 
They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey. 
He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise. 
“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung. 
“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”
“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects. 
“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.” 
You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too. 
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You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand. 
You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time. 
There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own. 
It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game. 
If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight. 
He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something. 
“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say. 
He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?” 
“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward. 
“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”
“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you. 
“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile. 
“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.
“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.
“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.
“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”
It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing. 
“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”
“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”
You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating. 
“Wait!” 
You turn around at his voice. 
“I never got your name.”
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Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.
Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.
He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours. 
His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled. 
He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out. 
“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.
“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.” 
He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek. 
You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off. 
With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to. 
Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before. 
He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both. 
Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).
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It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do. 
With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye. 
“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.” 
He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore. 
He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time. 
“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered. 
“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”
“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”
“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”
“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”
“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay. 
“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower. 
His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left. 
There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship. 
“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?” 
Slowly, but surely, he nods. 
“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”
He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.
“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.” 
In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home. 
Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again. 
As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade. 
There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet. 
But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes. 
Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.
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Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own. 
As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back. 
By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you. 
As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him. 
You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other. 
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Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative. 
You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon. 
He let a couple tears slip. 
And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest. 
It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind. 
You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes. 
When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.
It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.
At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow. 
By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies. 
The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like. 
Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption. 
A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?” 
“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training. 
He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.” 
A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day. 
And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other. 
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Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for. 
The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed. 
You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year. 
You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have. 
“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.” 
You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile. 
“Oh, he’s here with me,” 
You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens. 
Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.  
“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.
You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”
“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.” 
“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?” 
“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.” 
He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”
“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him. 
“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”
There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms. 
“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.” 
He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time. 
“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like. 
“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different. 
You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears. 
Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt. 
“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden. 
“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.” 
It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”
“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill. 
And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are. 
“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.
You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”
“Marry me.” 
It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all. 
“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”
You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights. 
That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”
You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away. 
“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”
“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups. 
“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.” 
You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation. 
You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”
You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring. 
Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows. 
He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward. 
You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently. 
He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.
“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.
He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”
If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow. 
His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening. 
You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now. 
He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours. 
Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself. 
His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours. 
“You okay?” 
You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely. 
He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance. 
Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance. 
He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you. 
He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind. 
Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself. 
The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest. 
You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”
“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”
You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak. 
You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass. 
Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina. 
You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other. 
He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.” 
A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture. 
You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another. 
Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad. 
Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other. 
You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain. 
Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say. 
“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”
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taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii
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tteokdoroki · 4 months
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VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.
✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )
✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.
✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 
you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 
he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 
he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 
okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.
you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.
there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 
you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 
rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 
much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 
they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.
rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.
his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 
things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.
then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 
maki zenin.
you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.
it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.
your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 
yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 
but you were never strong when it came to him. 
and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.
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voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”
this isn’t like him. 
even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 
you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.
but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 
to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 
panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.
even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 
you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 
you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.
when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 
but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 
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voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 
oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 
be close to one another.
so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.
it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 
maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 
you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 
the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.
he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.
“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”
you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“
“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 
the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 
okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 
“yeah?” 
“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 
your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 
confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 
“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.
“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.
“really? you don’t look like it.” 
running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 
“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 
needs it more than he needs you.
“okay.” you say simply, blankly.
“okay.” he says back. 
the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 
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voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”
yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 
you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.
its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.
“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 
you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.
“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”
without you.
you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 
your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”
the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 
“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 
“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 
you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 
ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 
“i love you too.”
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voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”
for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 
but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 
even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.
“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”
kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.
he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.
okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name
“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”
“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”
the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 
he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 
you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 
but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.
“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“
“and?” 
“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”
hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 
through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.
his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 
“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 
he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 
he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”
there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.
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voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”
there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.
there were no secrets, no major ones.
until now.
“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”
the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.
with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.
your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.
as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.
and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.
he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.
“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”
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voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 
( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )
yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 
he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.
and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.
it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.
was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.
yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.
yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…
yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?
yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.
yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.
yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.
you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.
“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.
you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.
“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”
“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”
“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”
you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”
he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 
“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 
“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 
“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 
the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 
“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”
your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”
yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.
before you can hear him say that he loves you too.
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voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 
the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.
after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 
gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.
sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 
so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 
it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.
and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.
tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 
his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.
yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.
he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.
your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.
you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 
his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.
“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.
“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 
he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”
yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 
“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.
every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 
“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”
blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 
his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 
your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 
“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 
you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 
that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 
“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 
“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”
all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 
“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.
“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.
you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 
yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 
“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 
“never?” you ask, hiccuping.
“never.” he moans.
you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 
the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 
“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.
yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 
you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 
“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 
“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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woso-dreamzzz · 25 days
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Peanut and Liefje
England Lionesses x Child!Reader (Peanut) x Liefje
Summary: Liefje's your best friend
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"Hey," Georgia says," Stop wandering. Your mums won't be happy if I let you run in traffic."
"Waitin' for Liefje," You say," She's coming today. Did you know?"
Auntie G laughs. "I did know that. Are you excited that your friend is coming?"
"Haven't seen Liefje in ages," You reply," Because she went with her Viv to the Netherlands. I want to see her."
"I'm sure that she's excited to see you too."
When the bus finally pulls up with the rest of the squad, you're practically vibrating in excitement and keep trying to push Auntie G's arm off of you as the doors open.
Liefje is one of the last off, with her blue fish backpack on her back and her cookie cutter shark under her arm.
"Liefje!" You cry, running towards and nearly knocking her to the ground if her mum wasn't there to stabilise you both.
"Hi!"
You hug for a super long time because Liefje's your very best friend and you love her so much.
You hold her hand nice and tight all the way to the lunch room where you sit at a table together with her mum, your mums and a few of the City girls.
"My mummies were naked cuddling a few days ago," You say over the sound of cutlery scraping against plates," Mum was kissing Mummy's neck and whispering things to her. Mummy kept making weird noises too and-"
Mum's hand covers your mouth so you can't speak anymore. Hempo and Chloe are laughing but you're not sure why. You haven't said anything that funny.
Liefje's frowning though, a little furrow between her eyebrows as she stabs a carrot with her fork. "My mummies don't naked cuddle," She says," Sometimes they make weird noises but I stay in bed. Sometimes, I go and see Carpet."
Beth covers Leifje's mouth too and the whole table bursts into laughter.
Chloe wrenches Mum's hand from your face. "Tell us more," She says," What else did you see?"
"Peanut," Mummy says," Less talking, more eating."
You know that really means no talking, just eating so you sullenly shovel food into your mouth.
"Mummy," You hear Liefje say," I'm done."
"Done?" Beth says," Well done, Liefje. Do you want something else?"
Liefje shakes her head. "When Peanut's done, can we go and play?"
"I don't know. You'll have to ask Peanut's mums."
"Keira, when Peanut's done, can we go and play?"
"I'm done!" You say," I'm done, Mummy! Can we go and play now?!"
Mum shakes her head before Mummy can speak though. "You're not done at all, Peanut. Come on, a few more bites."
"But I want to play with Liefje!"
"Eat and then we can play. It's just like at Barcelona. You don't get to go and play with Pina and Patri until you've finished lunch. You don't get to play with Liefje until you finish lunch."
"Two more bites," Mummy says," And then you can play with Liefje until training. Agreed?"
"Big bites," Mum tacks on," Not little girl bites. Big girl bites."
You huff but do as you're told. You don't want Liefje to think you're not a big girl and you grab her hand as soon as you're done, dragging her off to where Lessi and Tooney are sitting.
Lessi and Tooney are very funny sometimes so you and Liefje play around with them and a game of Connect Four. You're on the same team as Liefje because she's your bestest friend and she's very smart.
She knows lots of things about sharks so her brain must be very big so she should be good at Connect Four too.
You're mainly there to be her cheerleader. Your Mum says you're the best hype girl in the world and you really want to support Liefje so she can win for your team.
"No!" You say, standing up when Tooney flicks one of the counters at Liefje. "Stop it! No bullying! Bullying is bad!"
"Yeah, Tooney," Alessia giggles," No bullying."
"It's really bad!" You insist," So stop or I'll tell on you!"
Liefje goes to select one of your team's counters when Tooney flicks another one at her.
You don't like that all. Liefje's your bestest friend in the world and she shouldn't be bullied.
You stomp around the table and hit Tooney on the arm. Your mummy says never to hit people but Mum says you can hit to protect someone else. That's what you're doing.
You're protecting Liefje.
"No! No! No!" You say, hitting Tooney so she knows that there's consequences to her actions," Stop! Stop! Stop! No bullying!"
You want to keep hitting her but a soft hand takes yours and you turn to look at Liefje.
She looks a little sad, eyebrows drawn together and you glare at Ella for making your friend look like this.
"Come on," Liefje says in that quiet voice of hers," I think I'm tired. I don't want to play anymore."
"Okay!" You nod, taking her hand in yours a bit more firmer and pulling her over to where your mummies are sitting. You stick your other hand out towards your Mum. "Blanket."
"Blanket, what?"
You huff. "Blanket, please."
Mum hands you your blanket and you wrap it around Liefje's shoulders like how Mum does to you sometimes. You don't have a pillow but you drag a table cover off a table that isn't being used and bundle it up so Liefje can rest her head.
You don't really like sleeping without being in a blanket cave but you're feeling a little sleepy too so you cuddle up next to Liefje and lay next to her.
You're just protecting her in case Ella comes back to bully her.
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yee-haw-wizard · 2 years
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respectfully, can middle aged and older people at libraries learn to stay quiet?
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formulafics · 5 months
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congrats on 1k!!! I love your blog, for the blurb can I get Lando’s reaction to his gf cutting her long hair super short since she didn’t tell him? thanks babes xx
☆ 7:32 pm - an ln⁴ blurb
this is literally such a cute idea, i love lando and i just know he’d hype you up about the haircut, even if it throws him off. thank you so much, i hope you enjoy!! <3333
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“lando?” you know it’s him already, but you still ask as you step into the living room, waiting for him to appear. you nervously card your fingers through your hair as you hear the door close behind him, then the lock click into place as he turns it. “that’s me,” he responds, and you can hear the faint jingling of his keys, alongside the shuffling of whatever is in his backpack as he takes it off. he’s in the midst of doing so as he walks into the living room, and even though it’s only seconds passing, it feels like forever to you.
you hadn’t told him that you were going to get the haircut - you mentioned it a while ago, but hadn’t let it be known that you were committed to it. your gaze fixates impatiently on him as he sets his bag down, then starts unzipping his jacket. when he turns to you, it takes him a second. he knows something is different, and within a moment of observation, he figures it out. his jaw drops, and you can’t tell if it’s good or bad. “lando?” your voice cracks slightly, uncertainty evident in the waver of your voice.
“yeah?” he says, still taking in the big change. “do you not like it?” you ask nervously, almost afraid of his answer. “what?,” he sounds like he’s in disbelief. “what do you mean? i love it, it looks so sick,” he giggles as he walks over to you, eager to get a feel of the length himself. your skin heats up as he wearily brushes his own fingers through your hair, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to. “you think?” you ask, and his smile is big. “yeah, i like it a lot,” he says honestly, eyes meeting yours. your heart flutters within your chest at the way his smile meets his eyes, and you relish in the kiss he plants on your forehead.
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general taglist (do you tag blurbs? idk) | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @piasstrisblog @arkhammaid @minkyungseokie @harrysdimple05 @lokietro @spidersophie @cixrosie @motorsp0rt @stopeatread @topguncultleader @vellicora @leclercvsx @illicitverstappen @lovstappen
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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months
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the monster trio (but make it highschool!au);
basically, what if these mf weren't illiterate?? highschool!au headcanons for the monster trio!!
luffy:
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- the class comedian (and doesn't know it) - like this man is out here just going about his day, doing stupid shit. he doesn't know why the class is laughing when the teacher asks him what he's doing and he says "eating. want some?" through a mouthful of doritos and a shit-eating grin - everyday, atleast once, he gets sent to the principle (the principle is garp lmao) and garp sends luffy back to the teacher because even he doesn't wanna deal with this precious himbo
- he runs track (and he is actually so good at it) - he's that one kid that has adhd and the whole school knows but he doesnt "adhd? what's that?" "you, luffy, that's you" - his homework? never complete; his handwriting? so shit it feels like ants crawling on paper; his uniform? something has to be missing always whether it's a button on his shirt, tie, belt, something. - one time he pulled up with one sock missing and when asked, he shrugged and said "sometimes things happen" - why did he say it like that??? - somehow, despite it all, he manages to pass (nami tutored him forcefully and made him pay her later) - best friends with the martial artist!zoro and cooking prodigy!sanji - nobody knows how these three are friends??? but they are ig - also, i headcannon him as the guy who is like 4 feet and after one summer comes back stretched out (hehe, pun intended) - always so kind to others even if he doesn't know them, always willing to help freshmen out and run errands for you if you need help - nobody knew he is related to his older brothers (ace, sabo) "how are you their brother??" "idk? how am i??" - just the bestest boy ever, golden retriever energy all day every day no matter what universe it is
zoro:
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- you take one look at this mf and you think, ah here is the classic delinquent, stick-up-his-ass martial artist and you couldnt be more wrong - he is never dressed right but that's cause he doesn't know how to tie a tie and listen if he had the willpower to find the right socks at 7 in the morning, he will - he is just an incompetent fool, trust me 😭😭 - gets late on the regular cause he always takes the wrong turn - the one "jock" who isn't anything like a stereotypical jock? like he hangs out with soon-to-be valedictorian nami, idiot luffy, theatre kid!ussop and cook!sanji - nobody can understand how this friend group was formed??? - actually gets asked out a decent amount of times and always says "nah, im good" and walks away to his friends - people are starting to suspect if he's dating luffy from how hard their bromance is going "zolo!!! gooDMORNING!!" luffy yells as he launches onto zoro in the middle of the hallway at 8:03 am on a random tuesday zoro casually drops his backpack to catch luffy "morning" zoro replies as if it's casual behaviour - the amount of trophies the school has in his name is insane (nation level martial artist, roronoa zoro) - he is actually decent at school, he is just average and he's fine by it he doesn't give all that much of a shit in the academic sphere - casually pulls up to the parents-teacher meet with thE FUCKING WORLD REKNOWNED MARTIAL ARTIST, DRACULE MIHAWK??? "i see he passed in all his exams. how wonderful, zoro. let's leave now." "aight" - he doesn't even think twice when asked if he knows mihawk, he's just like "yeah that's my dad what about him?" - a certified dumbass in every universe
sanji:
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- listen to me this mf went to masterchef junior and fucking won and people only know this cause the school hyped him up and not because he wanted people to know "omg sanji did you actually win-" "no that was my twin brother sanjo, please leave me alone" - actually prim and properly dressed, shows up at time everyday and gives in all of his assignments and submissions well before the due date (he is partially responsible for keeping zoro and luffy on track) - he was the one making cupcakes when nami was organizing a fundraiser for a nearby orphanage, he was the one who baked cookies cause sabo wanted to hand them out on his last day of school, he was the one who baked cakes for his classmate's surprise birthday party - rumor has it if you get on good terms with sanji, a mysterious box of homemade chocolate will be there in your locker the next day - despite all the hype he has, mf still gets no girls - like luffy, he is insanely kind to those who need help - has gotten almost suspended once for beating up a senior year kid for bullying a freshmen (luffy and zoro just stood by and laughed as that kid got his ass handed to him) - he is the son of THE FUCKING OWNER OF BARATIE, A FIVE STAR MICHELLIN RESTAURANT THAT IS FREQUENTED BY CELEBRITIES ALL THE TIME "omg omg sanji is it true that the rock visited your restaurant last night?!" "yeah, his daughter wanted to eat my tiramisu, she's really sweet" - so chill always (but simultaneously losing his shit) - the kinda person you'd love hanging out with - as i said, in any universe, he is still single (feed him the rizz rizz fruit pls)
a/n: tried something new tell me do you like it or love it?
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honeylations · 2 months
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KIM CHAEWON x FEM!READER
Prompt: Chaewon is the school’s bully so her rules were simple: she’ll bully you. And you’ll let her bully you. That’s it. However for you, that’s never going to happen. What’s better than killing with kindness? FLIRTING.
Warnings/Notes: implied g!p reader, flirty badass reader, bully Chaewon, sexual remarks, suggestive at the end
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You adjusted the one strap of your backpack onto your shoulder as you released a big yawn, tired from the previous day’s baseball practice. As you continued your way down the halls, you noticed the weird stares locked on you.
You couldn’t tell what the stares meant but it made you feel uncomfortable. Your best friends Kazuha and Yunjin ran to your side, their stares just the same as everyone else’s.
“Why is everyone looking at me like I got two heads? Or are they still shocked about me having a dick? I thought we went past that by now” you huffed but Kazuha shoving her phone to your face stopped you in your tracks.
On the screen was the school’s gossip page on X, exposing photos of you naked in the gym showers. It didn’t exactly expose all of you, just your back from the waist up and under the shower head.
“What the—“
“Someone is totally stalking you bro. Like they really want to mess up your reputation” Kazuha said angrily and put her phone down.
You scoffed and smiled, confusing your friends.
“Bro this isn’t funny” Yunjin grumbled but you patted their shoulders.
“They can try and ruin my reputation. I always know how to bite back”
“Hey Y/n, nice shower photos by the way. Never knew how manly your shoulders looked until now” Chaewon said with a scrunched nose, causing her group to laugh in the classroom.
You put down your novel and stretched. “Aw thanks for noticing, babe. Worked hard on them just for you” you winked before going back to reading.
Chaewon’s smile faltered a little but she sat up and cleared her throat, trying not to let your flirty remark get to her head. “N-No wonder why you got no boyfriend. Who’d want to date a girl with a boy’s body?”
Her group laughed again but your gaze never left your book. “That’s because I’m a lesbian with a big dick. I know some girls here dig that. Right Sakura chan?” You tilted your head just to smirk at the Japanese girl, who was also Chaewon’s best friend.
Sakura instantly stopped laughing and looked at her feet with red cheeks.
Chaewon stood up from her seat, not knowing whether her sudden anger is from jealousy or from how annoyingly attractive you looked in your seat.
“Fuck you Y/n! If you don’t want more naked photos, then how about shower in your own home?”
Ok Chaewon had to admit that was the worst insult she could ever come up with but luckily her group hyped her up anyways, making the situation less embarrassing.
Finally slapping your book down, you moved out of your seat to stand in front of Chaewon who was many inches shorter than you were. You glared down at her and she smirked, thinking she finally hit a nerve in you but she wasn’t expecting you to start unbuttoning your school shirt from the top down.
“W-What are you doing?!”
“From all your yapping about my shower photos, it seems like you just wanted to see my body. I can show you all of it if it’ll get you to shut up”
Sakura’s eyes widened as she couldn’t look away.
Chaewon too. Her mouth opened and closed by no words were coming out. You were reaching button after button and she caught a glimpse of the top of your abs before you stopped.
“I’m not even done yet and you’re finally quiet. Want the full show? Stop being a bitch and lay on my bed. Your mouth could be of better use that way” You said coldly to her face before storming out of the class to the nearest bathroom.
And of course, Chaewon had to run after you. She wasn’t going to back down until she won this stupid fight.
She barged in the bathroom and saw you leaning your back against the sink with arms crossed, glaring at her. “I should’ve known you were gonna follow me. What else do you have to say to me?”
Chaewon cursed under her breath and stomped up to you, grabbing a fistful of your still unbuttoned shirt. “You think you can walk away like that? We are NOT done here”
“Why are you trying so hard to get a rise out of me? Admit it Chaewon, I’m not like your little victims. You can make them cry and beg for your mercy but that’s never gonna happen with me, do you understand?”
She stayed silent. Anger rising as she breathed heavily.
You grabbed onto her wrist that held your uniform. “Let go of me”
“Fuck you and your pretty face” she hissed and pulled you down to meet her soft lips.
It took a whine and bite of your lower lip to finally process what was going on so you held onto her waist and pulled your fronts together.
You were annoyed at how easily hard you got from such a messy kiss but when you felt Chaewon rubbing herself onto your bulge, all complaints went out the window.
“Ow!” You pulled away when she bit harder on your lip, actually drawing some blood. “What was that for?”
“For pissing me off. And for flirting with Sakura in front of me”
You smirked and kissed her puffed cheeks. “You’re so cute when you’re angry. Like a puffer fish”
“Yah fuck you!” She hit your chest.
“I’ll let you if you stop with all this bullying!”
Her face went redder than it already was. “No!”
“Then you can’t have me” you crossed your arms and looked away like a child.
But Chaewon grabbed your hands and placed them on her hips again. “Noooo I want you”
“Can you at least tone down the bullying? Please Chae?”
She sighed and looked deeply into your determined eyes. “Fine I’ll try…”
“Damn. Never knew the school’s bully could be so in love with me”
“SHUT UP, I JUST FIND YOU HOT!”
You snuggled your face into her neck and chuckled. “Don’t lie baby”
“Keep messing around and I’ll poke your eyes out”
You started placing wet kisses under her jaw. “Sorry sorry. Can we continue now?”
Chaewon rolled her eyes and pulled you in by the neck tie inside the closest stall.
Now I let your horny imaginations go crazy 👁️
Also sorry this was short. It’s been stuck in my drafts for AGES!
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[jungkook x reader] [ 1k+ fluff]
A/N: Something short and sweet. I initially wrote a lil bit of smut, but it came out a bit perverted and I don't think it fits the character of Jungkook in this fic. I still have no title for this, but I'm so glad to receive such great lovely feedback!
Untitled
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Before you can talk yourself out of it, your feet are walking towards Jungkook.
A breathy and meek hi leaves your mouth, the sudden greeting has him turning around to face you. Before you can backtrack, your hand extends to offer a carton of banana milk to Jungkook.
You're not sure if you're glad he's being super quiet, but wanting to get this done in one go, the words swiftly fly out of your mouth.
"I'mreallysorryaboutlastnightImistookyouforsomeoneelse," you expel in one shaky breath.
Jungkook looks perplexed, probably unsure what to make of the sudden apology, you assume. You were contemplating if you needed to elaborate, but as soon as Jungkook took the milk from your hands, hesitantly—you observed—your legs were quick to find their way back to your space and hide behind your propped up easel.
Had you stayed a second longer, you would have witnessed Jungkook break out a childish grin and blush. His hold on the carton was so gentle, one would have thought he was holding something far too fragile than a drink.
-
The class had passed quickly, which you were thankful for, for the first time. As soon as the clock hit 5:00, you rushed to bag your stuff—no plans of staying extra hours for today. You're still mortified from yesterday and while you don't think a lousy apology makes up for your misplaced accusation, you also don't have the courage of facing Jungkook.
At least, not now, you reason to yourself. Promising to scrape more courage for next time.
In your haste of leaving, you forgot to unhook the strap of your tote from the chair and as you lug your bag behind you as you speed walk, the chair topples and your things tumble out and scatter to the floor, much like the smithereens of your dignity.
A whispered curt curse is heard from you before you rush to pick up the rolling colored pencils.
"Here," Even with your head downcast and eyes glued to the floor, you know whose tattooed hands are handing your pencils towards you.
"Thanks," you clear your throat and glance at the man you wronged. "I got it," you softly say, a subtle way of shoo-ing him away, once again.
You stood up abruptly after shoving everything inside your bag. You see Jungkook lift the chair upright and thank him. You get a response in the form of a smile.
You made three streps before you heard your name called. With obvious reluctance, you face Jungkook and raise your brow in question. Afraid if you open your mouth, something judgmental comes out. Or maybe just that you choke from the clawing embarrassment.
"Do you wanna get coffee?" Jungkook adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. This time, he's taking Namjoon's advice. Just ask her to go out, even if it's just getting coffee after her class. It's a better way to get to know each other. Pick up lines are lame, his hyung said which earned a loud yelp of disagreement from Seokjin. Still, Jungkook thinks Namjoon made more sense.
Plus, he remembers those times whenever he sees you on campus, you always held a cup of coffee. And today, before class, he noticed you had nothing with you other than milk—which even turned out to be for him. He'd get all giggly later, for now, he has a bigger daunting task.
Throughout the class, Jungkook was internally hyping himself up to ask you for coffee. He almost felt pathetic when he saw you quickly pack your things and rush out, already thinking he'll have to run after you. But lo and behold, the universe bought him time.
"I-It's kinda late for coffee, don't you think?" You covered your uneasiness by clearing your throat and pretending to look at your watch. It was too quick of a glance to read the time, he notices. He knows you're evading him. Panic rushes into Jungkook. While on good days, he prided himself for thinking on his feet—those days helped him win rebuts with Seokjin—this moment would have been the one time where the words he uttered couldn't be more nonsensical and embarrassing, "Well, drinking coffee before bed will keep you awake at night is a myth, anyway." The words trailed off one by one as it reached the end, but you heard him loud and clear.
You were to quick to mask your visible confusion by pursing your lips, as if considering what he just said. But Jungkook knows how stupid he sounded. There was no redemption from this.
But just when Jungkook was ready to wave the white flag, he heard you snort a laugh. He looks up and sees your lips break out in a grin—one you tried to hide with an adorable nose scrunch, but your amusement still shone through with a tight-lipped smile. Then, finally, you look at Jungkook and this moment, he'll forever remember because you're looking at him with adoring eyes.
"Fine, then," you agree, lips still toying an amused smile. "Since you're so desperate for coffee you're making stuff up. But I'm getting a decaf."
Your turn and walk towards the approaching evening, and Jungkook follows suit with a lovesick smile.
-
"Wait... you thought I was Kim Jongkook?!"
You sheepishly smile, your fingers on the table scratches the surface, an anxiety tick. But you also look like someone desperately digging for a hole where you can escape to. You want to be away from this awkward confrontation where you have no excuse, no rebut.
“It really was an honest mistake. I’m sorry for lashing out on you.” Your head hangs with shame as you apologize for the nth time.
Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook noticed and took note of your tick. He really was just teasing you, enjoying your adorable puppy eyes, even more so that it's directed towards him. But perhaps, he had his fun. He smiles and comforts you—saying it’s fine and he understands. Right as you look up at him, your names are called for your ordered coffees.
In the same breath which he decides he wants to always be this close with you, he's also unsure how much he can hold back from wanting to just kiss you. And so, as much as Jungkook didn't want to break away from the moment, he stands from his seat, “I’ll get it. Just… you won’t leave, right?”
You would think he was teasing, making a jab from the couple of times you walked out from him, but seeing his pensive eyes had you retracting your assumption. “I’ll be here,” you smile reassuringly.
-
Your trip for coffee, but as per Jungkook's delusion—your date— lasted longer for hours. Small conversations were shared between the tiny round table that held your cups of drinks. No more hole-scratching on the table and downcast embarrassed eyes.
Jungkook thinks his heart may burst from happiness.
Unfortunately, your phone pings, breaking the bubble that enclosed you and Jungkook, one that temporarily kept you away from the outside noise. “Oh, sorry. That’s my alarm.” Your eyebrows furrow as you glance at your watch. This time, really looking at the time, Jungkook observes.
“I should be somewhere now, actually.” As you quickly gather your things, Jungkook matches your pace—grabbing your littered cups and tissues on the table, picking up the proof of your shared evening.
“This was really nice, Jungkook. I now partly feel bad for judging you too quickly,” you tease as you watch him trash the stacked cups.
“That’s not good enough,” Jungkook crosses his now free arms, biceps bulging that were not missed by your eyes. He sees the trail of your sight and that was just what he needed to be confident enough to ask for another coffee date. One that you agreed to without hesitation.
He grows giddy and excited. Wanting tomorrow—Thursday—to come sooner. He doesn't mind if the day ends quickly now as you part ways. And it isn’t until you round a corner that you both stop turning around to check on the other.
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