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#vomiting on the sidewalk
pickled-flowers · 7 months
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Some of you have never been the friend that No-one listens to and it shows
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githling · 3 months
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maybe it's the lesbian in me but there's literally no appeal to gortash. the other guys i can understand, but fucking gortash????
raphael is handsome and disgustingly charming. idk anything about haarlep yet, but he's beautiful. rolan and dammon and all the other popular male side characters all have their charm too.
but gortash looks like a sad, wet mop. a sad, manipulative, ugly wet mop. he looks like he'd be a reddit incel and smell like old ham and crusty socks. not to mention all the vile, depraved shit he's done.
and he has a stupid haircut :/
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
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The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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“man remember when i wrote stuff?” i say, currently going through some of the most unpleasant years of my life (so far) and dealing with additional chronic illness on top of the existing chronic illness that would probably sap anyone’s creativity
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jacqcrisis · 7 months
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> walks in
> jumps onto the couch
>licks my neck for a minute straight
> flumps over into my lap
> gives me the babiest face ever
> refuses to leave
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unusualsims · 2 years
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moonlinos · 3 months
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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’
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♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader
♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff
♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.
♡ Word count: 5.5k
♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.
♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.
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You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.
You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.
The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.
Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.
You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.
All extremely valid reasons.
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Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.
Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.
On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.
“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”
You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.
Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”
You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.
“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 
You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.
Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.
That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?
Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.
“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”
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At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.
You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).
You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.
Except it had the opposite effect.
One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.
You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.
After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.
“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”
Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…
But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?
It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.
He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.
You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.
Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.
YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.
Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.
After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.
From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.
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You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.
It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.
Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.
But Minho never budged.
So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.
You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.
“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.
He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”
You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.
You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.
You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.
And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.
“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”
You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.
“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”
And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”
That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.
You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.
After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 
Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.
You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.
All because Minho had let go of your hand.
Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.
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Your seventeenth summer was a drag.
Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.
You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.
Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.
The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.
And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.
That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.
That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.
Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.
“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”
“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.
“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”
He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.
“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”
You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.
Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.
You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.
However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.
That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.
“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”
You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.
You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.
But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.
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Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.
Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.
Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.
You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.
One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.
It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.
That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.
You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).
Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).
Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.
And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.
He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”
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Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.
You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.
Things happened when they were supposed to happen.
It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.
He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.
It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.
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Graduation day was a blur in your mind.
It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.
You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.
“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”
Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.
“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”
You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.
“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.
You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.
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Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.
After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.
The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.
“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”
You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.
Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”
Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.
Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.
“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”
And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”
“Who says I would have found out?”
“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”
And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.
“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”
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♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
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The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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under the influence
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words: 1.4k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, dubcon, blackmail, mentions of forced sex, throwing up, drunk!reader
your head pounds as you stumble towards whatever light source is in front of you. your vision is glazed over, only amplified from how tired you are.
“y/n?” a voice calls out.
you open your mouth to respond but your feet trip over a crack on the sidewalk and you fall forward, barely catching yourself with your hands.
“ah, shit.” rafe groans, rushing over to check on you. he turns you over so your back is now against the pavement. “what happened to you?” “was at a party.” you manage to get out before turning your head and throwing up. rafe gathers your hair for you as you vomit onto the sidewalk. “got really drunk.” you say when you finish, spitting to get the taste out of your mouth.
“yeah, i can tell.” rafe scoffs. “want me to take you home?” “no-” you shake your head, looking up at rafe with tears in your eyes. “my parents would kill me if they found out.” your mind reels, tears suddenly falling which quickly turns into sobs.
“hey, hey, shh.” rafe tries to comfort you, his hand coming to rub over your shoulder. “shit, shut up. you can stay at tanneyhill.” “really?” you squeal, mood instantly turning around, a smile replacing your frown.
“yeah just… just get up, come on.” rafe helps you stand up, annoyed that you're ruining his plans for the night, but not wanting to leave you out here to fend for yourself. 
you know rafe mostly through your families, both being prominent members in the outer banks. you've grown up around each other, and while you’ve been kind of flirty in the past, in never progressed into anything.
rafe loops an arm around your waist, helping you walk towards his house. rafe had planned to walk to a party, probably the same one you're leaving from, before he came across you.
“are your parents home?” you ask, knowing that you'll have to sneak past them, as they will definitely tell your parents if they saw how obviously wasted you are. 
“no. it's just me at home. ward, rose and wheezie are gone for the weekend and sarah is who knows where.” rafe rolls his eyes at even having to mention his sister.
“probably john bs.” you comment, before throwing out a snide remark. “dirty pogue.”
it makes rafe smile, remembering that you harbor the same feelings towards the other side of the island that he does.
rafe leads you inside his house before having to basically drag you up the stairs. he leads you into a guest room before letting you flop down onto the couch.
“you know i had plans for tonight, and now i gotta stay here and make sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning.” rafe says, wanting to make sure you know how much of a pain in his ass you are being.
“im sorry.” you pout, and it stirs something in rafe, seeing you laying splayed out on the bed, sorrowful look on your face and big doe eyes looking up at him.
“you know, you could do something to make it up to me.” rafe offers.
“like-like what?” you ask, blinking up at rafe.
“suck me off.” rafe says, watching you process and then react to what he just said.
“but-but! we are friends rafe you don't want me to do that!”
“i wouldn't ask if i didn't want it.” rafe shrugs. “besides, i was definitely going to hookup with a girl tonight, so im settling with just a blowjob, unless you want me to fuck you too?”
“no, no.” you shake your head quickly. you think about leaving, about walking out of tanneyhill, but you're not sure your legs can carry you that far. “ill suck you off.”
“good girl.” rafe says, rubbing over his crotch as you reposition yourself, flipping to your stomach and moving yourself to the edge of the bed.
“you're gross for this, rafe.” you say, even as you swat his hand away and rub over his length through the layers of fabric.
“we can always stop and i can take you back to your parents. tell them what a naughty girl you've been, getting drunk then rubbing at my dick.”
“no, no.” you shake your head. “im gonna do it just give me a sec.” you unbutton rafes pants slowly before tugging the zipper down, trying to force your mind to sober up as he tugs his pants down, taking the underwear down at the same time, revealing his half hard cock.
“oh my god, you’re so big.” the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it, making rafe chuckle.
you cautiously reach for his cock, wrapping your hand around the base and slowly beginning to stroke up and down, waiting for him to fully harden before you even attempt to put it in your mouth.
“come on, y/n.” rafe encourages you, stepping closer and pressing his thighs into the edge of the bed. you open your mouth and cautiously take a lick over the head of his cock, eyes sliding shut when you realize how good he tastes on your tongue.
you quickly take more of him, mouth swallowing his cock as you bob your head. rafe moans, tangling his fingers in your hair as you work on his cock, all apprehension gone the second you actually felt him.
“fuck, if this is how good you are drunk, i can’t imagine you sober.” rafe groans. he never really thought about you in a sexual way before, always just a background character in his life that he’d joke around and flirt with, but it was never serious until now.
“yeah?” you smirk as you pull off, taking a deep breath, your hand immediately beginning to stroke him to make up for it. 
“we’ll see if you even remember this.” rafe laughs, tugging on your hair, forcing you to retake him in your mouth. you choke slightly before regaining composure, sucking his cock deep into your mouth, managing to go all the way down and pressing your nose into his skin. you credit the alcohol flowing through your veins as the reason for your gag reflex not playing up, along with the confidence you have managed to muster up.
“are you sure i can’t fuck you?” rafe asks.
you shake your head no while still swallowing around his cock. you know you’ll wake up and regret this, but the regret is a million times better than the punishment you would face from your parents.
“maybe in the morning.” rafe grunts, hands tightening on your hair as he begins to snap his hips forward, keeping your mouth in place, not caring that drool is dripping down your chin and that your hands are fisted on the comforter, gripping it so tightly that you can feel your nails digging in to your palm through the fabric.
“so good, baby. keep sucking.” rafe commands, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer.
rafe lets out a groan and you feel him swell inside of your mouth before releasing, cumming straight down your throat, his hands keeping you pushed down on his dick, even when you try to pull away and take a breath.
rafe makes sure you stay on him for his entire high, throat constricting around his dick until he pushes your head away, cock flopping out.
you cough, wiping at your mouth. “i can’t believe you made me do that.”
“aye, chill out, y/n. you were certainly acting like you enjoyed it.” rafe laughs, tapping your cheek as you recoil. rafe tucks his cock back into his pants, redoing the button.
“yeah, whatever.” you roll onto your back, moving so your head is back over the pillow. your eyes close, 
“scooch over.” rafe commands, making you furrow your brow and look at him.
“what for?”
“i like this side of the bed.” he explains.
“you’re not sleeping in the same bed as me, fuck off.” you wave your hand.
“nah, you’re too drunk. gotta make sure you don’t puke all over the sheets.” rafe explains, hand coming to your hip, pushing so you have no choice but to roll to the other side of the bed.
“too drunk to sleep alone but not too drunk for me to suck your dick.” you roll your eyes. “make it make sense.” “hey.” rafe glares at you. “don’t make me wake you up with my cock inside you. shut it.”
he reaches over and shuts off the light, casting the room into darkness. you let out a sigh to show your disapproval of the situation but don’t say anything more as the silence stretches out a few minutes. “rafe?”
“what?” 
“can you hold me?”
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
This with player!sirius black
Hi! I assume you meant Sirius was the one sending the first text? So I hope this is okay :)
cw: alcohol, vomit mention (no description)
modern au
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 980 words
You stumble out onto the street and right into a pair of tattooed, surprisingly strong arms. 
“Fuck,” two voices say at the same time. One is yours, and the other…you look up, and a piece of dark velvety hair brushes your cheek as you meet slightly widened gray eyes. 
“Sirius.” His name comes out nearly without vowels, all strung together like one long s. “What’re you doing here?” 
“Hey, gorgeous.” He hoists you up a bit in his arms so you’re more on your feet. You don’t use them, though, content to let your weight rest on him for the moment. “You texted me to come.” 
You feel your face screw up. “I did?” 
Sirius’ mouth does that thing. He always looks like he has a little smile tucked in the corner, kept secret for now but constantly ready for deployment. It twitches. He grips you tighter against him, freeing one hand to dig in his pocket. 
“See?” 
You recoil from the bright light of his screen, squinting to read the messages. It takes all of your concentration, and by the time you muddle through it Sirius is looking down at you with a funny mix of humor and concern. 
“Oh,” you say. “I forgot.” The corner of Sirius’ mouth kicks up. “I didn’t expect you to come, though.” 
You start to slip down his front, and he heaves you up again with a grunt. “Yeah, well my night had started to wind down,” he says, in that disaffected way of his. It doesn’t bother you like it usually does; you’re too busy thinking about how out of all the things he could’ve done tonight, he came to you. “Figured I’d see what you were up to. Where were you running off to when I got here, huh?” 
You have to think for a bit. Then it comes to you, and you swallow thickly. “I came out here to be sick,” you admit. 
Sirius’ eyes widen and for a second you think he’s going to step away from you, but he doesn’t. “Yeah? You need to find a bin?” 
You shake your head, swallowing again. “No, this is good.” You stumble away from him, bending over the gutter at the side of the street. 
The club’s bouncer shouts. You hear Sirius say something back to him, and then his hands are in your hair, moving it away from your face. 
“Shit,” he mumbles, securing it with a hair tie. “You alright?” 
You spit, blinking tears from your eyes. “Mhm. M’fine.” 
“You wanna go home?” 
You turn your head to see him, vision smearing. “You wanna take me home?” 
Some of that smile deploys, just a hint. It’s enough to make you dizzy. “Maybe just in the literal sense tonight, doll. Though I’ll be happy to take you up on that another time.” 
You harumph, setting your bum on the curb. Or falling onto it, same thing. “Can we go in a minute?” 
“Sure.” 
Sirius sits beside you, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. You watch him cup a hand to light it, inhaling quickly before blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth. He sets one hand on the pavement and leans back on it. The cigarette glows magma red between his lips. 
“Why did you come?” 
He shrugs, watching traffic pass on the street. “Like I said, my night was winding down. I thought you might be a good time.” 
You press your lips together. The smell of vomit is still sharp in your nostrils. “And I disappointed you.” 
“Not necessarily.” He exhales smoke, hair gleaming red under the neon sign of the club. “Where are your friends?” 
“Inside.” 
“Think they’re worried about you?” 
“When I left they were…distracted.” You smile wryly. You think you catch Sirius watching you out of the corner of his eye. “S’how nights out go, you know? Anyway, they’re used to me leaving early.” 
“Yeah?” Sirius’ voice is disinterested, like he’s just keeping up his end of small talk at a family gathering. “Why’s that?” 
You shrug, laying back on the sidewalk. Whatever’s getting in your hair is tomorrow’s problem. “I’m a lightweight.” 
He looks down at you, humming as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “You’re a walking red flag, aren’t you?” 
You roll your head to the side. Grin up at him playfully. “And what about it?”
Sirius shrugs. “Nothing,” he says. “It’s hot.” He exhales a long stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night air. “My friend says I always like things that are bad for me the best.” 
You’re not quite done wrapping your head around that when he stubs out the cigarette and slips a hand beneath your neck. “C’mon, this is no place for a nap.” 
He gets you sitting up, then stands, taking your hands to bring you up there with him. You start out on the half of the sidewalk closer to the curb, but Sirius steps around you, hand skimming across the small of your back as he takes your place. 
“Where’re we going?” 
“Your place.” 
You start to drift away, and Sirius gives your waist a slight tug. It’s the tiniest bit of pressure, but you stumble closer like he’s yanked you towards him. You may be swooning. 
“I can get home on my own,” you tell him. “I have a great sense of direction, I do it all the time.” 
“I don’t mind,” he says simply. 
And well, you don’t if he doesn’t. For a while you walk in silence, Sirius guiding you with his hand at the small of your back, not seeming to care that you called him out here for nothing or that you smell like vomit or that you keep stumbling in your heels. 
“Sirius?” you ask after a while. 
“Hm?” 
“Do you think I’m bad for you?” 
He’s quiet for a second. “I haven’t decided yet, doll. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
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rafesfavgirl · 26 days
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i just want to know — r. cameron
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another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol
❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞
pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader
context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST
you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.
"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.
rafe cameron.
"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.
"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.
"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.
"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.
"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.
"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.
"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.
he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.
"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.
"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"
"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"
that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"
"i-"
"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."
"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"
"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.
"focused on what?"
"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."
"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"
"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."
a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"
"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.
"are you in the state to ask me something?"
"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."
"alright, shoot," he nodded.
you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"
by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.
"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."
you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.
his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.
"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."
"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.
the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.
"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."
"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."
his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.
"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"
"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.
"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."
well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."
"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."
"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.
"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.
"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."
"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."
rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."
you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."
"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."
well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.
"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."
though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.
"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."
"that guy just isn't you."
a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."
y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝
promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia
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kennedybaby · 1 year
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TIPSY ~ LEON S. KENNEDY
Summary: Fucking a bartender in the back seat of his car was the last thing Leon had in mind after successfully retrieving Ashley back to safety.
Word count: 4.495k / Warning: Mild dubcon because Leon is tipsy. Anything is just pure filth.
Pairing: Post Re4 Remake! Leon S. Kennedy X Fem! Bartender! Reader.
Author note: got horny and accidentally vomit out 4k words of leon fucking you. sorry, it's just the girl tendencies in me. read the tags to know what to expect!!! 🤍
mature contents below the cut. mdni.
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Leon needed some sort of a quick stress reliever.
His knuckles gradually turned white as he tightly gripped his steering wheel. His chin leaning on his other hand, the faint buzzing noise from the radio accompanied by his soft breathing was the only company he had. Leon had debated with himself, a part of him missed his bed like crazy, all he wanted to do was bury his body between the soft cushions and dozed off into a long, serene slumber. But a part of him itches for something. He needed a drink, anything to get that surge of dopamine in his body. Need the familiar bile taste to settle in his mouth as he chugs it down his throat, letting it burn his chest.
Leon Scott Kennedy needs some alcohol in his system. Desperately.
Running his gloved fingers thru his damp hair, Leon let out a soft chuckle upon seeing a bar from afar, almost as if his desperate plea was answered by God himself. Its neon sign flashing OPEN 24/7 in bright red LED lights, he could see a few drunkards already passing out on the sidewalk, holding onto their beer bottles before he parked his car around the corner. Putting his car keys in his pocket, Leon budged open the door of the bar, greeted by the sound of the bell atop the door chimes. The heavy scent of tobacco, hard liquor and sweat was evident as it clings to the air— not to mention the odour of sex grows stronger and pungent as he goes even deeper into the crowds to reach the counter.
Leon finds himself a seat on one of the stools, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips before the feeling of someone standing over him crept onto him. He lifted his face, sparing a small, tired smile at you as you returned with a polite one.
‘Cute,’ He thought.
“You look tired, want me to fix you up with something?” You raised your voice a little, making sure he can hear you amid the blasting music as you leaned closer to him, Leon got a slight whiff of your refreshing, floral perfume. It was pleasant, a stark contrast from the stench that the bar seemed to be festering with. You were pretty, clad in a black blouse with your sleeves rolled to your elbow, a beige apron wrapping around your waist as you pressed your hands on the counter with a bright smile on your face.
“Just a shot of Vodka, please,” Leon replied, his eyes remaining trained on your face. You give his request a firm nod, turning your back to Leon as he watches you step on a stool before reaching for the bottle of Vodka on the top shelf.
“Need some help there?” Leon teased, a soft chuckle emitted from him as you rolled your eyes teasingly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” You replied to him, getting off the stool before you turned to face him again.
Putting the shot glass in front of him before you pour the Vodka in, making sure not to overflow the shot glass. “Thank you, pretty girl.” He whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower before you flash him a grin, your cheeks heating up before you remain your composure.
“Anytime, handsome.”
Sure, you’ve been flirted by your customers before. Mostly by married older men who're too drunk to even form a proper sentence, easing you into coming back home with them and they’ll show you a great time. You wouldn’t be too phased with it, assuming it was just the liquor talking— but this? This was different.
Somehow hearing this attractive man you have never seen before calling you a pretty girl sent heat coursing up your cheeks. Maybe it’s his looks or his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to fuck for weeks since you were too busy with bartending and college classes hence you being fairly sexually frustrated but you paid extra attention to him.
Not that he’s complaining, Leon’s not the type to turn a lady’s attention away from him.
“You’re new here?” You strike up a conversation with him which is something you would normally avoid to do so. Leon smirked at you, chugging down the Vodka shot in one go before he let out a sharp breath. His eyes met back to yours before he cocked his head to the side, “Yeah, just wanted to find somewhere to rest, past weeks have been crazy.” He replied, his eyes shifted to the empty shot. “I might be here for a while, mind keeping a tab for me?” Leon poured himself another shot, his finger grazing around the rim of the shot glass before looking up into your eyes.
“Aren’t you too young to be bartending?"
“What are you a cop or something?” You raised your eyebrow with a teasing smile on your lips, jotting down his tab before pushing it to the side. A chuckle left his lips before Leon speaks again, “Eh, kind of. So how old are you?"
“21. No breaking laws here, officer.” Slightly raising both of your hands in the air jokingly, Leon grinned at your antics, chugging his second shot of Vodka.
“No worries, pretty girl. But why here, though? Why work in a bar?”
“It pays me well plus I needed some quick cash. My dad isn’t too keen on giving me some money so here I am.” You said, pouring him his third shot of Vodka as he smiled at you.
“How come?”
“Let’s just say he's not the nicest.” You shrugged, watching as his adam apple's bobs every time he chugged the Vodka shot down his throat. His pale cheeks already began to redden up a little, adoring his porcelain skin with a pink tint. Leon extended his hand to you and you happily accepted it, giving him a firm handshake before you exchanged introductions with each other.
“Leon Kennedy. And you are?”
“[Y/N] [L/N].”
The two of you converse for hours, pouring him shot after shot and with every shot he takes, Leon would flirt with you. He’s still pretty sober despite the high intake of Vodka shots, he seems pretty calm in his seat— occasionally winking at you when you’re serving other customers and throwing cheesy pick-up lines between the conversation.
Leon can’t lie but finds himself attracted to you, ordering more and more drinks in hopes of keeping your attention on him. He loves the way you blushed at the slightest contact of his hands or the way you would look at him back with a twinge of desire circling behind those eyes of yours. Fuck, you’re too hot for him to be this tipsy.
Once in a while when you were talking, his eyes would shift down to your lips, cock straining against his pants as you licked your lips and looked up to him with that evident obliviousness plastered all over your pretty face to his impure thoughts.
“Your total is 200 dollars. Cash or card?” You smiled at him, handing him the tab you had for him with a card reader in your other hand. Leon ran his card swiftly on the card reader before he put them back into his wallet and stuffed them back into his pocket. Shifting your eyes to the clock, a hint of disappointment could be seen on your face before you quickly muster a small smile for Leon.
“It’s already twelve? Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Leon." Untying the beige apron around your waist, you placed it on the lower counter. Leon was quick to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop you in your tracks.
“I can give you a ride back home if you want.”
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You can definitely say this was a different type of a ride back home.
“Your lips taste so fucking sweet."
Straddling his hips with your thighs wrapped around his waist at the backseat, Leon has his arm around your waist. His other hand cupped the right side of your face, circling his thumb on your cheek as you intertwined your lips with him. His tongue goes past your slick lips as his hand guides your head to tilt a little to deepen the heated kiss. Leon breaks away from the kiss, leaning his head back on the car seat as you look at him with a dazed smile.
“Shit, this is insane.” He muttered, his fingers running thru his dirty blonde hair. “What’s so insane about this?” You softly replied, your lips finding their way back to him as he happily reciprocated, kissing you back with his tongue swirling with yours. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your head, keeping your lips locked with his as you moaned into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss for air, Leon strokes your hair as he runs his fingers thru your locks.
“Never really made out with a girl prior after knowing her for a couple of hours." Leon chuckled, his head slightly tilted as he looked back into your eyes with a half-lidded stare. He can feel the heat radiating from your cunt and God knows how much of the effect you had on him. “Well, I don’t usually accept a ride back home from a stranger but here we are.”
“It’s a first for the two of us then.” He grinned, a devilish smirk playing on his lips before his hand removed his hand from the back of your head. Unwrapping his arm around your waist, Leon moved both of his hands and settled them on your hips. His thumb makes a circular motion on the surface of your stomach as hummed with satisfaction. “You can do more than that, can you, officer?"
Right. You don't even know what he actually works as. That’s how little you two know of each other and yet his bodies and yours slotted perfectly like two pieces of puzzles. As if the two of you had known each other forever. Leon preferred the anonymity between the two of them.
“You’re going to make me lose control if you keep calling me that," Leon chuckled, the sound of his husky voice ringing in your ears. You noticed how your lipgloss was all over his lips, the beautiful pink sheen smeared on his lips down to his chin. “What should I call you then? Daddy?”
Leon let out a groan, his smile widening at the way your voice sounded when you rolled the word daddy off the tip of your tongue smoothly— you’re can’t be teasing him when he’s this horny and tipsy. He can't even think properly, too fixated on the positions he can put you in at the back seat of his car, clouding his mind with endless indecent imagination. He swallowed thickly, looking back at your eyes as you bit your lower lip back at him and flashed him a playful smile. “Say it again.”
“Daddy.” You breathed out, eyes shooting wide when his fingers brushed against your collarbone as he pried your blouse open, sending the buttons of your blouse to fly everywhere. Your body tensed up from the sudden action, his warm breath hitting against your skin as he kissed your collarbone and stopped between your chest. “Yeah, call me that.”
“Gladly.” Pulling away from your chest, he leaned in closer to your face, pulling your face into his as he smashed his lips on yours— engaging you into a messy, sloppy kiss. His tongue forcefully parted your pursed lips, exploring every corner of your mouth as you let out a pathetic whine when he pulled away. “God, you’re so needy. My needy little girl,” You can feel the ache between your thighs building up when he called you a little girl. Your cunt throbbed against the thin fabric of your cotton panties as he slipped his hand down your pencil skirt, his index finger teasing the pulsing little clit thru the fabric of your panties in a circular motion as he softly chuckled when you began to squirm in his grasp.
“You're already so wet. You’re excited for daddy to fuck you stupid?” He whispered into your ear, shooting shivers down your spine as you nodded at his question. “Let me hear your voice, pretty girl.” Leon landed a firm spank on your ass, sending your back straight as your fingers cling to his black T-Shirt. “I-I am excited...”
“There's my good girl. Open your mouth for me.” You obeyed him, parting your lips before he stuck the same index and middle finger he teased your clit earlier. “Get it nice and wet for your pussy, baby.” Leon smiled, occasionally letting out a grunt as the warmth of your mouth and your hot tongue wrapped around his digits.
All Leon could do is wish it was his cock you were sucking, taking every inch of his shaft down your throat. He wanted to see the outline of his cock on your throat, fucking your mouth while his balls slapped against your chin as he leaves you breathless. But for now, he’d settle with fingering your pretty pussy open.
“You’re so cute sucking my fingers like that,” He breathed out, pulling his fingers out from your mouth as it let out a small pop. “Thank you, daddy.” You shyly muttered, cheeks heating up upon feeling his cock twitching in his pants and grazing against your clothed sex.
“Spread your legs up a little for daddy, baby.” Your knees dug into the cushion of his car seat as you leaned your body on his front seat. His hands helped you roll your skirt up to your pelvis. Your fingers reach down to push your panties aside, spreading the lips apart as his breath hitches. Leon mumbled a curse, his pants getting tighter and tighter by each time as he salivates over the sight of your sopping cunt.
“All this pretty pussy just for me?” You nodded at his question in which he slipped back his hand between your thighs. Leon removed the gloves from his hands before throwing them to the front seat.
“S’all for you,” Your words were slurred from fixating on the ache between your legs so much. He grinned upon hearing your answer, inserting two digits past the tight muscles as your body shuddered in pleasure. His thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing them at a slow pace and in a circular motion. Arching your body into his touch, Leon let out a chuckle— his other hand pushing your bra up your breast before the rough surface of his palm quickly fondled your tits.
“F-Fuck... Just like that...” You moaned out, throwing your head back from pure ecstasy as his hand massaged your tit while his fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy. Apart from the sound of your wanton moans, the squelches of your cunt sucking in his fingers and the low buzz coming from the radio filled the limited space of his car. “You like that? You like getting fingered by a stranger? God, I bet you did this to all of your customers, don’t you?”
You should’ve found that disrespectful, should’ve snapped back at him for thinking that way but somehow it made you wetter. His voice was soothing and had the right amount of hoarseness that you can’t help but get off from him shaming you. Either way, you shook your head in the heat of your bliss, looking back at him with misty eyes. “No, just you, Leon... You’re the only one that I-I let you do this...”
“Good. That's what I wanted to hear from you.” He smiled before he picked up the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit in a rougher and sloppier manner. Lips parting slightly, you gasped for air, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change of pace as your nails dug deep into his shoulder blades, gripping him tightly with the familiar knot in your lower stomach threatened to break. He loves the feeling of your spongy walls wrapped around his digits, pulsing and sucking his fingers deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
“Oh, you love that, don’t you? Filthy whore.” The name-calling made your pussy clings onto his digits tighter as a sly smirk painted all over his lips. “Such a slut for getting off to me calling you a filthy whore, huh?” You weakly nodded, feeling yourself nearer to your limit as a whine left your lips when his fingers were pumping deep inside of you, abusing your sweet spot to its limits. Your teeth bite back your lower lip when he spits on your clit, smearing his saliva all over the bundle of nerves with his thumb.
“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t wait to have you crying on my cock.” He said in a whisper, making sure you heard him despite the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling at the moment. “L-Leon, I'm... Fuck!... C-Cummin’” You cried, not caring if anyone that walked past his car would notice how your bare body is played by Leon like a piece of instrument. God, being seen nude by people now was the least concern you had, the only thing you could think about now is finishing on his fingers.
But what’s the fun in letting his little girl have everything her way?
“No, no, I’m not letting you cum, yet.” Leon pulled out his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, wrapping his tongue around his digits as he cleaned your juices off his pruney fingers. You pouted at his words, a frustrated sigh left your lips as you leaned your head on the window. “Why not?” You asked with your eyebrows furrowed into a small frown, it was clear you weren’t happy with him suddenly edging you. His eyes on you softened before he wrapped his arms around your body, his lips pressed on your bruised lips before he gave it a little lick.
“You don’t want to cum all over daddy’s dick?” Leon asked, once again, his thumb rubbing the bone of your hip in a circular motion. His eyes looked back at yours as he put his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to make you look up at him.
“It's going to feel nicer, princess. Don't you want that?”
He was right. God, why does he always know what to say to you? He arranged words in a way that weakened your knees and sent the same aching mess rushing back between your legs.
“I do, I do want it...” You weakly replied to him. Leon doesn't think you know how pretty you are now, looking up at him with those dew eyes, the clear desperation painted across your face and the way you already began to rub your thighs together. Getting you off his lap, he opened the right door of his car. You couldn’t help but stared at his erection, straining against his black jeans as Leon unbuckled his brown, leather belt. “Come here, princess.” He gestured for you to be closer as you listened to him, inching closer to him as the cold air from the outside hits your skin. His hand reached down to tease your hardened nipples, letting a glob of his spit fall down to your chest as he lathered your nipples with his saliva and pre cum using the tip of his cock.
“It's cold, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’d heat you up just in a sec. Ass up, face down, pretty girl.” You nodded, turning your back to him before bringing your hips higher as the leather of his car seat sticks to the sweat on your face. His cold fingers removed your panties, letting them hang just above your knees as his eyes stared at your dripping cunt with hungry eyes. A small gasp emits out of you when he tapped his cock on your slit several times, teasing your swollen clit with the head of his dick as you bite your lips back.
“Keep quiet, okay? I need you to take every inch of me like a good girl. Just let me know if it hurts.” A grunt left his lips when he pushed the tip past your lips, his other hand holding onto the doorframe of his car while the other settled around your waist. Leon wanted nothing but to push his cock and filled every corner of your tight cunt but he controlled himself from doing so. After all, the last thing he wanted to do is to hurt you after how sweet you are for him this whole night. “The head’s in... I’m going to start pushing more and more, okay?”
“O-Okay...” You whine, breathing heavily as your chest heaves up and down in an erratic pattern.
“Fuck, [Y/N], you need to stop sounding like that before...” Leon cut himself short, by now he was already halfway in you, the feeling of your velvet walls throbbing around his cock made his mouth dry before a shaky breath left his lips. A low whimper guttered out of his throat as you trembled under him, allowing him to bury his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy until your ass met his pelvis. “Feel that, princess?”
You moaned out a high-pitched yes to his question, throwing a glance at him over your shoulder as you looked at him through blurry vision. Salty tears clinging to your lashes with your bruised lips parted slightly, your eyes looking back at him with nothing but sheer desire. Leon spared you a smirk, pushing back his hair from his face before his hand landed yet another spank on your ass— seemingly turned on by the way you yelped and squeezed around him.
“Keep your eyes on me while I fucked you like the filthy whore you are.”
Leon begins to rock his hips at a slow pace, making sure you’re still adjusting to his size, his eyes shifting back and forth from your face to the way your cunt wraps snugly around his cock. Leaning closer to you until his chest pressed against your back, Leon planted a kiss on your earlobe. “You’re making me drunk from how good your pussy is, baby.” He said, kissing down the nape of your neck before he stood up back straight and began to move his hips faster.
This might just be the relief Leon needed after all of the fighting he had to endure.
“Hey, no looking away.” Every so often, he’d spanked you for not looking him in the eyes. He needs to see every contortion of expression on your face while you locked eyes with him. Leon knows you struggled to keep your eyes open, losing yourself in the pleasure as his throbbing cock goes in and out of you at a steady pace. And Leon loves it. He loves making sure your eyes are still on him, whether by spanking your already sore rear or suddenly thrusting deep inside of you to hear the small little scream you make when you’re surprised.
“Sorry, daddy.” And every time he does that, you never fail to apologize to him between your choked sobs and broken moans. It was endearing to watch, seeing you try your best to not disappoint him while he’s fucking your pussy raw in the back seat of his car. The shape of his fingers is already bruising into the skin of your flesh, the mixture of both pain and pleasure sending you over the edge as you curl your toes every time the tip of his cock grazes against your cervix. The prominent vein on the side of his cock rubbed against your walls with every thrust, fishing muffled moans out of you.
“Touch your clit for me, baby.” You’re so pathetic like this, being fucked in the backseat of a guy you just knew a few hours ago. But you knew what would happen the second you agreed to a ride back home from him. Not that you regretted it, being dicked down by Leon has been nothing but heaven for you. Obeying to his order, your hand travelled down between your thighs, putting your index finger on your swollen clit before easing it in a circular motion. “Good girl.” He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts before he stopped in his tracks. Sweat hanging at the tip of his hair as he looked down to the ground, the pleasure was too much for him.
He can just cum any second now if he moves. Taking notice of his sudden pause, you grind your cunt into his dick, pushing him back into the warmth of your pussy as his eyes shoot wide. “F-Fuck, baby, you can’t…” He stuttered, the feeling of your tight cunt pulsing around his cock and the way your ass bouncing on him was too much for him to handled. Gritting his teeth, Leon pushed your head back down onto the leather seat, his other hand keeping a firm grip around your hips as he started to snap his hips at a rougher pace.
“Fucking slut, can’t even give daddy a rest.” He cursed under his breath, his cock ramming into your pussy deeper as if he were moulding the shape of his dick into your sweet cunt. Every last of self-control left his body the second you started bouncing on his cock. Leon couldn’t care less at the fact that you had already cummed on his cock once or how he rendered you into nothing but a crying mess— all he cared about is the high he was chasing.
Leon needed that sweet release. He needed to cum deep inside of your pussy despite having no rubber on. “I'm going to cum inside, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck….” You probably can’t hear it but Leon finds it adorable how you’re nodding your head to whatever he said. Throwing his head in pure bliss, Leon finally comes undone inside of you, shooting sticky webs of his seed deep into your cunt before he stays inside of you for a couple of minutes as he catches his breath. His cum overflows out from your pussy the seconds he pulls out, dripping down between your thighs and dirtying his leather seat with his cum and your juices.
“You're so pretty like this, [Y/N].” He groaned, putting his pants back up. Leon fished out his cell phone from his pocket, pressing the camera icon as he started recording.
“You’re recording…?” You asked, instinctively hiding your face from the camera as he laughed. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to forget a moment like this.” Leon calmly said, his fingers running between the lips as he scooped up his cum and started writing his initials on your lower back. He dragged the white, translucent liquid as he formed the L. S. K. alphabets on your skin.
“Perfect.”
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p.s send me any thirsts (dc are welcomed) abt leon pls or carlos or any cod members. thank u ♡ english isn't my first language so if any of the sentences sound weird, just ignore it!!!!! anyway, thank u 4 readin’ this messy pornfic lol
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kelin-is-writing · 7 months
Text
unlike what the general public says... i think that dabi is actually a very caring person, especially with and towards his beloved girlfriend.
when you two are together, walking on the sidewalk, he’s always the one who walks on the road’s side and if by chance you’re walking on that side, he would stop the two of you on your tracks, put an hand on your hip and gently move you to the inner of the sidewalk.
whenever you two are in crowded places, dabi would stand closer to you while using his arms to keep strangers and weirdos out of your personal space, then opens a path for you to get out of there while leading your figure with an hand resting on the small of your back, walking right behind you so he can have a better view of your surroundings and intercept any type of danger if it ever dares to comes your way.
ohh this one, dabi rests his hand on the small of your back a lot; when he wants to tell you something only you need to hear, when he wants to get your attention, when he wants to assure you about and with his presence, when he’s curious to see what you’re doing, when you two are shopping and you show him something you want to buy or simply when you’re standing while listening to the other members of the league talking.
he, for some reason, just feels so much reassurance in that gesture and he also hopes you feel that too (you do by the way, it’s impossible not to honestly).
whenever you’re nervous, in panic or worried about something dabi would hold your hand, intertwining your fingers and then start rubbing his thumb across your skin in soothing circle motions while looking straight into your eyes with what to other seems like an unbothered expression, but being the person closest to him you can notice all the minuscule details; his slightly furrowed eyebrows, blazing eyes that says thousand of words, lips pressed in a thin line with the corners of his mouth curved downwards, tensed jaw, vein on his scarred neck pulsing and ah... there he goes “it’s okay baby, i’m here” which means ‘nobody’s gonna touch you on my watch’ because he’s going to protect the hell out of you and burn to ashes every stupid ass piece of shit that dares to lay a finger on his woman.
when you guys are sitting down with league eating, dabi would go “slow down there princess, nobody’s chasing you” at you as he rests an hand on the back of your neck running his thumb on your nape gently, looking at you quizzically with a lifted eyebrow but still amused by all the sudden hurry into eating. you low-key remind him of a little hamster and that makes the arsonist melt every single time, he will never tell you though.
everytime you’re sick he does his best to be of aid to you. if you’re vomiting out your soul he’s gonna be there to hold up your hair and rest a reassuring hand on your back that rubs it in circles, if you’re down with a cold or the flu he would keep you warm using his quirk alongside the blanket and never let you lift a finger until you become able to stand without your legs wobbling like a newborn deer.
whenever you fall asleep somewhere that isn’t your shared bedroom, dabi would not leave your side for a second or he’s afraid something bad might happen to you when he’s not there, even when you guys are at the league’s hideouts. the moment the man sees your nodding off he sneaks an arm under your chin and resting his hand on the side of your head he gently places it on his shoulder or when you’re out like a light in kurogiri’s bar or any other hideout, dabi straight up puts your head on his lap and while the others just talk or do anything he’s there silently listening to their antics while caressing tenderly your head, run his finger through your hair or rest his hand on your arm as he watches over you.
the times when you guys are on mission, be it only the two of you or with the league, and are walking into decadent or rather small places dabi will put an hand over your head to keep you from bumping it into something or would walk ahead of you then tell you to hold his hand since it can be dangerous.
when it comes to a person he loves and cares for, i can see dabi become a little of a worry wart and always looking out for you even when it comes to the smallest of the things, that’s because he’s afraid of losing you and he doesn’t want that to happen with all his heart that many think he doesn’t have when he actually does, it just needs the right person to unlock every door of it.
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irkimatsu · 2 months
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You know how cats will nose bump/head bump their humans sometimes? Imagine drunk!husk doing that to his crush. Maybe reader helps him to his room and tries to tuck him in bed but he drags them down with him. Nuzzling and showing affections. Maybe they wake up in his arms and he's all flustered and reader tells him what happened. He's all embarrassed but reader just tells him that they feel the same way.
I went full on cute for this one. <3 Spicy implications but nothing actually happens, Husk is just drunk off his shit. Cuddling and nuzzling and confessions ensue. SFW, GN!Reader, about 1.7k words.
---
You’ve had a fun night out with the more adventurous members of the Hotel, but Husk has gone way too far this time.
What you expect from him when drinking is contradictory. You know he has a problem. He fully admits it, and refuses to get any help, insisting that he functions better at a certain level of drunkenness than he’s capable of while sober. You do have to admit, you’re darkly impressed at how much he can drink while still standing upright.
Because of this, you fully expect him to drink too much on nights out, but you never expect to see him full-on drunk.
You were the first one to notice his head dipping as he sat at the bar, shot glass in hand.
“Hey… ‘nother one!” he slurs out at no one in particular. “C’mon… glass is empty…”
You wonder if bars in Hell have a policy to not serve visibly intoxicated patrons, and if that’s why the bartenders appear to be ignoring him.
“Husk?” you say sweetly, as if speaking to a child, as you try to remove the glass from his hand. “I think you’ve had enough…”
“I’m fine,” he slurs as he tightens his grip on the glass. “Hey. Buy me another one.”
“No,” you say simply as you try prying his fingers off the glass. “This is too much, even for you.”
“I got this, baby, don’t worry…” he says, his voice growing rapidly more incoherent. “Just want another sip…”
“We’re going back to the hotel,” you say simply.
“No we’re not,” he protests. “Heeey… anyone? ‘Nother drink…?”
You decide to try a different tactic. “I want to go back to the hotel, and I don’t want to walk there alone.”
“Ohhh… okay, I gotcha.” He hops down from the stool, and you catch him under his arms before he can fall to the floor. “I’ll walk you home, then come back. Could use some air… it’s fine…”
“Thanks for walking me,” you say, letting him believe he’s in charge even as he slumps against your side and shuffles his way out of the bar. You catch Angel’s and Cherri’s attention on your way out, and upon seeing Husk’s current condition, they have no further questions about why you two are heading out.
Husk doesn’t speak much on the walk home from the Hotel; all you get out of him are a few pained groans. At one point he starts heaving, and you desperately hope for his sake that he’s not about to vomit in the middle of the sidewalk, but you thankfully manage to arrive home without incident.
“Okay. I gotcha home. I’m going back to the bar,” he says as soon as you bring him through the door. Despite his statement, he makes no motion to actually leave.
“Could you bring me up to my room?” you ask. “Make sure I get up the stairs okay?”
“You that drunk?” he asks. “Well, if ya are, yeah, I’ll help…”
You let him continue thinking he’s helping as you slowly walk him up the stairs. His head keeps dipping, and you wonder if he’s going to black out before you make it, but he’s still somewhat conscious by the time you make it to his door.
“You got your key?” he asks, seemingly unaware of where he is.
“Yeah. Just a second…” He thankfully doesn’t notice you slip your hand into his pocket for his card key. You unlock the door and drag him inside with minimal protest.
“All right, get some sleep… I’m just… gonna…” Still standing, he slumps further against your side and lets out a snore-like sound.
“Yeah. Get some sleep.” Assuming he’s fully lost consciousness by now, you drag him over to the bed. As you try to figure out how to get him onto the mattress in a halfway-comfortable position, he bumps his head into your neck and purrs.
“You smell nice…” he says with a laugh.
“Oh! Um… thank you…?” While you’re pretty sure Husk considers you a friend, he’s never been so openly complimentary before. “Here. I think you need to lay down…”
“Lay down? In your bed?” He laughs louder. “Ohhh… that’s why you wanted me to walk you home! Didn’t know you were so naughty…”
Your face turns beet red as you consider his implications. No. Absolutely not!
…not while he’s this drunk, anyway…
You try to shake that thought from your mind as you pull the covers back for him. “Here, I’ll help you up.” It’s difficult maneuvering him into the bed when he won’t stop nuzzling your neck, but soon you have his head resting on the pillows. You’re ready to walk away and never speak of this again, but before you can stand up straight, his arms wrap around your torso and rest his paws on your shoulder.
“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Your bed’s right here…”
“I’m just- um-” you stammer. You can’t think of an excuse before he’s pulled you into his bed. You teeter precariously on the edge, only his arms preventing you from falling to the floor, as he keeps nuzzling under your chin.
“Mmm… soft…”
You could say the same thing as his fur brushes against your skin.
“Tell?”
“Thanks for letting me take you home…” he continues over the rumbling purring in his chest. “I thought you couldn’t tell…”
You cannot be thinking that about him right now.
“Tell that I like ya,” he says before lightly licking the side of your neck, the rough barbs on his tongue making your toes curl.
“But it’s so hard askin’...” He nuzzles your neck again. “Haaa… this feels damn good… I really, really like ya…”
His grip isn’t that strong. It’d be easy for you to scramble away from him, maybe slap him across the face for being too forward.
But now that you’re here, you may as well stay.
Instead of moving away from him, you try to climb over him to get to the other side of the bed. He laughs and squeezes you tight once your body is above his.
“Mmm! Ready for that already? C’mon, we just got here… at least let me kiss ya first…”
He doesn’t try anything further as you attempt to move, and his grip opens easily enough to allow you to lay down on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t protest the changed position, but he does immediately cling to you again, this time nuzzling into your chest as he continues purring.
He looks so relaxed and at peace that you can’t help yourself. You slightly scratch behind one of his ears, causing him to purr louder and press more closely against you.
“Yeah, baby, that’s the spot…”
You wrap your other arm around his torso, and he moans.
“Babe…” he exhales as moves up to your neck and nuzzles there again. “I really… really like ya…” His voice fades away as he falls unconscious, still purring and pressing into you. If he expected anything else to come of tonight, it’s not happening now.
You don’t mind sleeping here for the night.
You wake up to a loud, pained groan.
“My fucking head…”
You roll over to see Husk sitting up, clutching his face in both paws. “How much did I fucking drink?” he asks himself. “How did I even-” He freezes, then slowly turns his head toward you. You both stare at each other in silence, his eyes wide as saucers.
“...what the fuck happened last night,” he asked, “and how can I apologize for it?”
“You’re fine,” you assure him. “I helped you get home last night. Do you remember leaving the bar?”
He shakes his head, only to wince in pain from the gesture.
“Not surprised. You were really far gone.”
“Fuck… I don’t like blacking out around other people…” he grumbles. ���Next question… why are you here?”
“I walked you home and brought you to bed, and you didn’t want me to go,” you say. “And I guess I didn’t want to go either…”
His voice is stern and panicked now. “What the hell did I do? I swear to god, if I forced anything, I’ll-”
“You didn’t force anything!” you insist. “We just cuddled.”
He sighs in relief. “If you were okay with it, I guess that’s fine…”
“And you told me you liked me.”
“...okay, would have preferred to admit that while I could remember it…”
“...and you kept nuzzling my neck.”
Husk frowns, and his brow furrows. “Nuzzling.”
“Yeah. You were really into it, too.”
“Jesus Christ.” He returns his face to his hands. “I’d rather you told me we fucked.”
“What’s wrong with it?” you ask. “It was cute.”
“Exactly. I hate being a fuckin’ animal…”
You sit up next to him and wrap your arm around him from behind. “Husk…”
“Nuzzling. Nuzzling. I finally let you know how much I like you after months, and it’s because I got drunk and nuzzled you. What the hell kind of flirting method is that?!” He’s getting increasingly worked up. “Nuzzling! Who does that?!”
“Husk!” You call for him more loudly this time, snapping him out of his rant. “Husk, it’s fine! I thought it was sweet. And if I really didn’t want to, I always could have left.”
“Some first impression as a potential partner that was. Nuzzling… if we do get together I’m gonna need to cut that shit out…”
“No you’re not!” you assure him. “I know you’re… sensitive about it… but I like you, Husk. I like all of you. Even the cat parts.”
“Trust me, if we were still on Earth I would have made a way better confession. Might have even been somewhat sober for it.”
“I like the confession you gave me just fine.” You pull his head down onto your shoulder and hug him tight. “And if we’re gonna be together… I’d like it if you embraced who you are and how you show affection. I want every side of you.”
He doesn’t respond… but you can see that he’s eyeing your neck and waving his tail. “...so, um…”
“Go ahead.”
He hesitates for a second more before nuzzling into your neck again. You laugh at the ticklish feeling as you hold him tight. “Heh… I can smell me on you,” he says. “I kinda like it…”
You stroke behind his ears as he settles into comfort against you. “Enjoy it as much as you want…”
You just know that the longer you spend here with him, the more questions Angel and Cherri are going to ask your both as soon as you finally make it to the lobby.
It’ll be worth the questioning.
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heevanly · 4 days
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LATE NIGHT TALKS : LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)
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𝐬yn. : being the host of a college late night radio talk show was a passion project since freshman year of college, but now as a senior, y/n hadn't expected the fame it brought to herself on campus... but maybe it was the recent string of murders that caused more tuning in than ever seen before.
𝐰arnings. / 𝐭ags. : (18+!). small series. gore. horror. college au. similar to a murder mystery au. swearing. mentions of wanting to vomit (no vomiting occurs). humor. mildly suggestive. no smut. main character death. side character death. heeseung and jay are manipulators. jay and heeseung have a small argument. enha members as main / side characters. lsf members as side characters. ive members as side characters. pet names used mockingly (baby, sweetheart, honey). more to be added as parts come out.
𝐧ote. : warnings are just overall, not everything mentioned is in this part in particular (like 98% is tho). also welcome to my first fully published work, i hope you guys like it. everything is also in lowercase, not sure why but that's just how things ended up happening haha.
𝐭aglist. : @livsateez @velvethana @ilyjxdz
© @heevanly 2024 | do NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, or steal my works.
WC : 6.7k
Part Two. (TBD)
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walking towards the music building on your campus was always the worst trek for you. it was the furthest building from your on-campus apartment and it was a combination of uphill walking, stairs, and loose gravel sidewalk that for some reason the school had yet to get fixed. you kick a loose rock and grumble incoherently, watching the rock hit the bottom stair leading up to the building. letting out a sigh you begin walking up the last of the stairs that leads towards the building. 
the night was serene at least, a bit chilly but it was still early spring, you’re just glad the hoodie you’re currently wearing is enough to block out the wind blowing past every so often. with the last bit of sunlight fading behind the horizon, you scan your fob into the building’s sensor, unlocking the doors.
a small noise crunches somewhere from behind you and your head immediately turns in the direction of the sound yet nothing is there. eyebrows furrowing, you rescan the fob and head inside the building shaking your head, “i hate walking at night, curse heeseung and his off-campus apartment, if only he’d pick me up.”
you head into the hallway that holds the elevators that lead into the basement. it’s never been the most ideal location to record, but it offered a few rooms that had equipment and space you needed to borrow.
after the trip down from the elevator you walk into the room the four of you have continuously used for the radio show. setting your bag down you start cleaning up the space, trashing old papers left behind, wiping the tables, doing simple tests on the mics to just make sure they work, overall just getting the place ready. you leave jay and jake's stuff mainly untouched, as they have their own way of setting up the lights, mic sensitivities, and what all else.
the door opens up behind you as you continue to do tasks around the rooms, not bothering to look at the door, you glance at the clock instead, “hey guys, you’re a bit earlier than when you normally get here.. we still got an hour.. but since you’re here could you,” your voice quiets down as you turn to address whoever was behind you directly, however no one is in the room.
“what the hell,” you mutter out scratching your head, “i swear i heard the door open.”
you quickly scan the room you’re in, checking under the table to see if one of the four decided to fool around a bit. seeing no one under there you move to the other room where jay and jake usually stay in, but no one is seen there either. a sense of unease begins to grow in your stomach but you decide to keep yourself busy by finishing up tasks in the room. printing out the schedule and loose script for the recording, you skim through, making sure you didn’t leave anything out and once satisfied you set the schedules and script in heeseung’s and your spot.
the clock reads 9:27 pm and you sit down on the couch, getting comfortable, getting ready for the other three to walk in at any moment. your phone rings and seeing jake’s contact pop up, you answer.
“hey jake, what’s up, did something happen?”
jake clears his throat on the other side, “y/n! glad you answered, couldn’t get a hold of heeseung, but i told jay already- wait is he there yet?”
“er, no.. well at least i don’t think so.” you scan the room once before playing with the charms on your nails.
“what..?” jake asks, confusion in his tone, “you don’t think so? y/nnie i hate to break it to ya but i think you’d know if someone was in the room with you.”
you let out a puff of air out through your noise in fake annoyance, “yes i’m well aware of that jake sim. but i heard the door open up behind me a little bit ago and i figured it was one of you guys stopping in a little early but no one was there so..”
“well.. i’m sure it’s just your pretty little mind playin tricks then, anyways jay should be there soon though, he left the flat a bit ago- oh right! since he isn’t there i guess i should tell you. i can’t make it tonight, forgot i overscheduled myself with my plans so i have somewhere else i need to be tonight.”
“what? jake why didn’t you say anything earlier today? i mean it’s fine, i got the room mainly all ready anyway but a warning other than being like five minutes before you get here would’ve been nice.” you click your tongue in annoyance to further drive the point in. frankly, you didn’t mind that much but teasing jake a little bit was something you couldn’t pass up.
you hear jake give a dejected sigh and stifle a laugh, “ok listen i know i know, i’ll make it up to you i promise but just this night i can’t make it alright?”
“yeah yeah, you have fun with your plans or whatever.”
jake chuckles, “oh i will, see ya y/n.”
the call ends just as jay walks in, he gives you a little wave and sets his stuff by yours, “here like always, before everyone else is.”
you drum your nails along the couch’s arm rest as you watch jay get situated in the room, “someone has to get everything ready, and it sure ain’t gonna be jake with the way he bailed on us tonight. and we’re lucky if heeseung shows up 10 minutes before we go on air.”
jay lets put a small laugh, “he told you he’d be gone? thought i was gonna have to be the one to tell you.”
“nah he told me, think he’s trying to get a hold of hee right now too.”
“eugh, good luck to him then.”
you raise your eyebrows in understanding, “yeah.. anyhow i printed out the schedules and cleaned everything up so..”
jay sits in his seat and turns to you, “you emailed me my schedule right?”
“yup, did it before i left my apartment.”
“perfect, alright you go get set up and i’ll test your mic and make sure feedback is clear.” upon hearing jay’s words you get up from the couch and move to sit down in your chair, jay gives you a thumbs up and you test your microphone, “test test test.”
jay fiddles around with a few notches and motions with his hand to try once again, “test test test.” you repeat into the microphone, which you receive a thumbs up and lean in your seat. all thats left was to wait for heeseung.
a few minutes later and he walks in, dragging his bag behind him, “woah dude you look like shit.” jay says, looking heeseung up and down.
“this assignment for prof kim is killing me,” heeseung groans out, exasperated, “i swear she wants me dead.”
your jaw drops slightly at the look of heeseung, “have you slept recently?”
heeseung drops his bag with everyone else’s, “just did, i was supposed to work on the assignment, fell asleep, woke up and sprinted over here.”
his hair was all tousled up and his shirt was slightly stained but his jacket managed to cover most of it up and his pants looked as if in some places dust or dirt got smeared onto it.
jay does one more look at heeseung before turning around in his seat, “alright well man, go get situated next, we’ll test your mic.”
heeseung simply nods before walking to his seat next, once jay gives him the go ahead he speaks up in the microphone, “test test.” jay gives the thumbs up to heeseung and you look up at the clock, 9:58 pm, almost time to go live.
you turn to heeseung, “you sure you’re alright? if you’re that tired i can handle doing a night alone.”
hee gives you a small smile, “promise im all good, that nap was like.. one of those ones where you wake up not knowing who you are or where you are kind, so i’m like.. oddly rejuvenated right now. think i could even fight off a werewolf and win.”
blinking once and then twice you look at him and slowly nod your head, “oohhhhhh kay mister tough guy.. whatever you say..”
“you not believing me is not very kind you know.” heeseung frowns, his lips forming a pout.
“i know, oh-! we’re going live.. 3.. 2..”
"welcome welcome welcome toooo SCU 101.85, you’re currently tuning in to the 10 o’clock pm talk show. i’m your host y/n and i’m here with my co-host..” you turn away from the microphone and glance at your co-host, lee heeseung.
“heeseung.” he speaks up into his microphone, shuffling a few of the papers around.
“and it’s currently a friday night, it’s 67 degrees out with a small breeze too so make sure you wear that jacket!” you chirp.
heeseung snorts and you pass him a look which he returns with a shrug, “you just sound chipper.. s’all.”
“ah.. well our ratings have been going up again.. it’s better than we’ve been seeing these past four months.. so.”
the past four months have been rather difficult for you and heeseung and the radio show. when you started this project sophomore year, it had just been you and your roommate kim chaewon, your ratings were steady in the beginning but had started declining after two months, which made your at the time co-host and roommate, quit. you don’t blame her, you nearly stopped too, which was before heeseung hit you up asking if you still needed another co-host.
accepting his help was the best thing you had done, his roommates jake and jay were all about the technical jargon behind running a radio show, which the reasoning was apparently the three had thoughts about starting a podcast but couldn’t get the timing right to actually get it started, so here they were willing to help you out.
production took off and the four of you found yourselves seeing steady viewers and got to even open a talk line, which was a segment that both you and heeseung took seriously, finding fun in chatting with anonymous students with various complaints they had of others, professors, relationships, or whatever else going on in their lives.
then, out of nowhere four months ago, the viewers started thinning out, causing your small team of four’s good feelings to falter. having been used to success it was shocking to be randomly met with a hard wall and seemingly, no way of getting out.
heeseung and your’s efforts were all in vain as you tried advertising the radio talk show, you had chaewon talk to her friends about spreading the show, heeseung talked to about it to his other friends and also had them spread the word. jake would mention it at his part time job, and jay even mentioned it at a small on-campus event, which he texted that he was never doing again out of sheer embarrassment.
heeseung hums, “well.. i could imagine people have been feeling a bit safer because of us, due to…” he trails off.
right, there's been a few recent deaths that have plagued not only your campus, but the town. you claim they’re very obviously murders while heeseung’s been claiming it’s been various unfortunate accidents. so far the death toll has hit only four, two on campus, one at a campus nearby, and one on the outskirts of town.
“the murders.” you finish his sentence off, gravelly.
heeseung rolls his eyes, but remembers that the listeners can’t actually see that, “you’re so obsessed with these being murders,” he teases.
“well.. it’s quite obvious, no?” you ask, tilting your head a little bit.
“ehh, i wouldn’t really say so, besides the two on campus cause they were ruled as a murder-suicide. regardless that was two months ago and the one at KTU was concluded to be an unfortunate accident.. shit what did they say about how she died again?” heeseung racks his brain, trying to remember how the girl from KTU died two weeks ago.
you scatter your papers around, “wasn’t it something about a lab issue..? their school got to close down because of it, that’s.. uh.. kind of all i remember about that.”
“oh you’re going to hell, haven’t you been following this whole thing since the murder-suicide on campus..?” heeseung laughs loudly and you slump in your chair, embarrassment flooding your system.
you sit back up and clear your throat, “in my defense..”
heeseung accusing points at you, “you! don’t have one.”
“pause, yes i do! rude…. my defense is that the fourth one’s been throwing me off with this whole thing, that i focused a little less on the third girl.” you huff out.
the fourth death was the weirdest in the whole thing so far, it happened a few days ago and it’s been the only one where the person involved wasn’t in the same age range and died supposedly.. well.. naturalistically. it had been a middle aged man, who was on his way home from work. apparently the report and the news claimed his tire gotten flat and when he had gotten out to check on it, he had been mauled by a pack of wolves wandering through. 
the police and how they concluded it just didn’t make sense to you, you stayed up for two days trying to determine it all. first, wolves hadn’t been sighted in that area for several months so a random pack coming through didn’t make sense. second, the blood inside the car, how did it even manage to get in there if the man was supposedly outside? the third rea-
heeseung snaps his fingers to try and get your attention back to the talk show, “hey, y/n, quit thinking about it, you’re just gonna make yourself paranoid.. or worse.. really obsessive over this.”
you sigh, biting at your lip as you mull over his words, “my bad, i just need to stay up on all this, our viewers need the information, they deserve the best after all.”
“and the best of the best is from two college seniors..?” heeseung raises an eyebrow.
“absolutely!” you respond, “we’re the only ones giving multiple sides to these events and ways to stay safe.”
“i’m sure the news have been doin all that too though.”
“pff, news schmooze,” you wave your hand at heeseung, “college students don’t care about tuning into the morning news before classes or turning the evening news on, we’re a source of entertainment AND murder mystery, and that’s what eats up.” 
“you’re greedy, y/n, soo greedy.” heeseung shoots a grin your way, a way to let you know he doesn’t mean it.
trying to stop a grin from making its way on your face, you roll your eyes, “oh suck my dick lee heeseung.” 
“gladlyyy..” he sings out, wiggling his eyebrows and chuckles into his microphone.
“you’re a freak..” you gather your papers back up and glance up at the clock, 10:26 pm, time to open up the first talk line segment of the night.
you give a small nod towards heeseung and he nods back and clears his throat, “well well well SCU you are listening on 101.85 and it’s rolling up to 10:30 pm, we got a two minute sponsor for y’all and when we come back live, our callers will be up discussin’ random whatever with us. give us a call at +82 70-5208-6001 and see if you’re lucky enough. again that is +82 70-5208-6001. see you soon.”
both you and heeseung give a thumbs up to the room in front of you and jay switches your sets off, rolling the sponsor. a few seconds pass and before you’re able to turn to heeseung to just casually chat, the switchboard for the phone calls light up, more so than you’ve ever seen before.
turning to heeseung you give him a look of wonder, his eyebrows are furrowed as if hes wondering the same thing you are, why are there so many callers tonight? jay clicks off the sponsor and puts on a jazzy song before stepping into the room, “what’s up with the callers tonight?”
heeseung looks up at jay, “not sure bro, we’re just as confused as you are. we haven’t seen anything like this before.”
the calls keep coming through, lighting up the board until nearly all have popped up, indicating that people are on the line waiting to chat.
jay takes a glance at his set up and back at the two of you and the board, “well you guys got about a minute before we go on air, can’t keep them waiting for too long so just…” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “just… i suppose keep their talking segments shorter..? man i wish jake was here right now he could help weed through the callers with me on my end.”
heeseung raises an eyebrow at jay, “he’s not here today at all? i thought he was just late?”
“nah, up and bailed last second, said somethin’ about a date but i think he’s lying.” jay rolls his eyes, “30 seconds, you’re both up soon.”
jay closes the door and you look over at heeseung, frowning “why the hell did he schedule a date during the same time he’s supposed to be here? he told me it was important, not that a date isn’t but i was thinking something with his parents or.. i don’t know..”
heeseung mulls it over for a few seconds, “i mean unless he was planning on bringin her home..”
“dude.”
“it’s jake we’re talking about, y/n.”
“okay, yeah you’re right, well you wanna go first with the calls then..?”
heeseung nods, the on air button lights up and he clicks on a random caller, “hey lucky number one, congratulations you’re on air with us on STU 101.85, what’s your name?”
“hey guys it’s yunjin!” yunjin’s voice is heard through the speaker.
you sit up in your seat a little bit, “oh my god, hey girl! thanks for calling, how you been tonight?” 
“same old same old, prof jeon is an asshole still and said my submitted designs lacks the ‘creative theme’ of what he asked for. the problem is, is that he gave us no theme, aside from it being wearable. so i based it off of 1960’s greek spring chic wear and now he’s denied my third design.”
heeseung nods his head, “we’ve heard from other fashion design majors that prof jeon is the worst, i guess this goes to show to any sophomores and juniors to not finish your semesters as a senior with prof jeon.”
yunjin scoffs, “you could say that again, i wish i took prof song’s class, apparently shes at least nicer with going about denying designs.”
“isn’t she tough to impress though..? i hear her students always come back with lower scores than those who take prof jeon?” you ask, “wouldn’t that be.. worse?”
“oh you’re right.. ugh just don’t be a fashion design major, worst choice ever.”
heeseung lets out a laugh, “alright well we’re gonna let you go and head to the next caller, good luck on the rest of your assignment.”
a hum is heard through the speaker, “yeah i should really get to finish on working with the fourth design, you guys have fun, i’ll still be tuned in too.”
the line clicks and heeseung switches to another caller, “and listeners that was miss yunjin, another senior here at STU, you may have seen her around workin tirelessly at the sewing machines in the fashion department, so send some luck her way for dealing with prof jeon. now we got our next caller with us, you’re on air!”
silence fills the studio and jay looks at you two through the window, mouthing a “the fuck?” and you two shrug, confusion on the both of your faces.
“uh.. dude? you there?” heeseung looks annoyed as he shuffles around in his seat.
more silence fills the room and now you can also feel annoyance creep into your body, “hey, listen if you’re not gonna talk we’ll move on. not sure if you stepped away from your phone at all or what kind of prank you’re trying to pull but you can cut it out, it’s not funny and it just holds us and everyone else up.”
“..01101000,” a gravelly, raw voice crackles through.
heeseung sits up, “okay i’m changing the caller, you’re a weirdo and can get off our line.”
 the voice continues, “..01100101.. 01101100–”
heeseung cuts the line, cutting the voice off too.
“freak.” you mutter, “what the hell was that?”
heeseung shrugs, “sounded like binary code, probably someone from comp sci deciding to pull a prank on us.”
“well they’re not funny, that was weird and kind of scary.” a shiver runs down your spine as you think about the voice that crackled through, whoever it was managed to perfectly replicate fear in their voice.
“oh don’t worry, i can protect you.” heeseung winks at you.
“i think my chances of survival lay better with jay, hee.” you look down to choose the next caller as heeseung makes a noise of offense, taking your words to heart.
“he would not-”
you connect to the caller, “and you’re the third caller of the night, thank you for spending your night here with us at STU 101.85, may we get your name?”
“uh, yeah hi it’s yang jungwon.. i’m a sports medicine major.”
your eyes lit up in recognition at the name and voice, “oh yeah! you’re on the journalism club right? i’ve seen you there frequently.”
“yeah, thanks for helping us out, y/n. uhm, you know i wasn’t positive that i’d get picked so i guess i’m unsure of how to say this.”
heeseung leans closer to his mic, “what do you mean, jungwon?”
“uh, well it’s just, that last caller and then the mysterious figure on campus is what i wanted to talk to you about."
that made you sit up straighter in your seat and from your glance at heeseung, his interest piqued as well.
“go ahead jungwon, we’re interested and i’m sure all the other listeners are too.” you give the green light for jungwon to essentially take over the whole talking segment.
jungwon takes a deep breath and you can hear some shuffling in the background as he gets ready to speak,“okay well, i’ve been staying late on campus for the last week because i work on the sports section of the campus news website right? and i’m not sure what’s been going on but i’ve noticed this shrouded figure walking late at night. they seem to be following any student late at night leaving the stem building.”
you look up at jay and then over to heeseung, the both of them listening to jungwon’s words intently you look back down at the board as jungwon continues, “i think it’s cause they often stay behind the latest right? i’m not sure, i felt it was better to be here and say it as a warning, in case the man was dangerous.”
heeseung speaks up, “you’re saying something now? didn’t you say it’s been the past week?”
jungwon is silent for a few seconds before breathing out, “okay yeah i figured someone would ask that, honestly i thought it was a prank at first, especially because it was a costume the person was wearing.”
“costume?” you ask, “what sort’ve costume?”
“it was that ghostface costume, you know like the scream movies one?”
“ghostface?” heeseung asks, skepticism in his tone, “you saw a dude in a ghostface costume? in spring?”
jungwon clicks his tongue, “that’s why i didn’t say anything, because it just sounds stupid. i really thought it was just a prank someone was pullin on a friend.”
you nervously pick at your nails as you think about jungwon’s words, “you’re saying something now though aren’t you? what made you change your mind?”
jungwon hesitates before saying anything, “the call.”
you raise an eyebrow, “what’s the call got anything to do with the ghostface random?”
“i.. got a weird call yesterday night, it was the same voice that just called you guys. honestly if i wasn’t seeing the costume dude on campus i wouldn’t have thought much of it or if i wasn’t tuned into the radio show tonight.” 
“why don’t you go to the police or campus security? dude like campus security should and would kick the guy off campus, even if what he’s doing is harmless, he’s being creepy.” heeseung sighs out and rubs his forehead a little.
“i did, they think i’m sleep deprived and seein shit, apparently they can’t find ‘any evidence’ that supports that someone's walking around being weird so they think i just need more sleep.”
“what about that phone call? isn’t it logged?” you’re honestly a bit worried for jungwon, something weird is happening, the murders, the calls, and the shrouded costume ghostface guy.
jungwon speaks a bit faster, trying to get all the information he can into the hands of however many people are listening, “thought it was, i re-called the number two days ago and it just immediately disconnects, then the number was gone from my phone yesterday. poof up and deleted from my call log.”
“oh what the hell..” you breathe out, heeseung looks pale as he listens to jungwon’s words.
“dude.. does that not remind you of the damn scream movies? like at least in some way?” heeseung shakingly asks, “it literally sounds like you’re being hunted jungwon.”
a clang is heard and a quiet “fuck” before some shuffling, “sorry dropped my phone, you kinda freaked me there with that heeseung.” jungwon lets out a sardonic laugh.
you turn to heeseung and lightly smack his arm, “no for real, why would you say some shit like that.”
heeseung splutters, “well.. like does it not? i don’t want to sound grave or mean about this right now but genuinely this shit sounds like jungwon is in danger.”
“not helping, dude.” jungwon speaks into his phone, voice low.
“no he’s got a point jungwon. with what hee’s talking about, you could really be in some serious danger. i mean a famous point of scream was the calls to the victims and if you’re really seeing someone run around in the ghostface costume..” you trail off unable to voice the rest of your concerns aloud.
“well thanks for helping me out you two,” the sarcasm in jungwon’s voice is clear and you flinch out of guilt. you didn’t mean to freak jungwon out a bit more, he really wanted to just warn people on campus who were out late. “regardless thanks for warning everyone on this, listeners tell your friends or if you know of any late night students, tell them they should be careful on campus now if they’re out late, just in case. jungwon this goes for you too you know?”
“yeah i know, i’m already off campus now so i should be fine.”
heeseung picks at his jacket’s sleeves, “still man, sounds like you gotta keep yourself safe anywhere.”
“i will, thanks for letting me stay for a while longer than you normally let your callers on.” from the background noise going on in jungwon’s call it sounds like someone coming in through his door, “i’ll go ahead and get going now, my roommate brought food and we’re gonna eat, thanks for having me guys!”
jungwon ends the call and you glance up at the clock which reads 11:07 pm, “alright we have time for one more caller, normally we’d have ended this by 11:00pm and done another segment at 11:30pm as you are all aware but i guess we’ll just have one long talk segment today. heeseung you wanna do the honors for the last lucky caller.”
heeseung nods and clicks on the next caller, “lucky number four, you are live with us at STU 101.85, you get to be the last call of the night with us, anything on your mind that you’d like to chat with us about?” heeseung and you are met with heavy breathing into the phone’s microphone. 
“hello..?” you call out tentatively and heeseung groans out beside you, “alright i’m really getting sick of the people who decide to prank us.”
the breathing stops abruptly at heeseung’s words and your breath hitches in the back of the throat. you’re unsure as to why the caller made you nervous, heeseung is right, prank calls have been weirdly often tonight, this was the second one of the night after all. heeseung’s hands reach to change the caller and that’s when a weird low static sounding voice filters through, “don’t hang me up, lee heeseung.”
heeseung stops his movement’s mid way and your head whips into his direction quickly, the voice continues, “why don’t you put your hand back down. we’re going to chat.” heeseung quickly obliges and fear has overtaken everyone in the room, jay from where he is, is even frozen from the voice.
“much better. thank you for having me on your lovely radio show. you know, i’m not exactly the happiest at having been the last caller, but i suppose only the best are chosen as the final right?” the voice takes a shaky breath before continuing, “y/n,” you freeze as your name comes out, “don’t you think being the final one is best too..?”
you don’t answer, unsure if that’s the best course of action, you just can’t bring yourself to say any words at this moment, but the mysterious caller decides he’ll make you answer, “answer me y/n. you get to choose the fate of someone very important tonight after all.”
your blood runs cold at his words, eyes shaking and tears even start to brim, you stutter out, “what.. what do you mean?”
“i’m so glad you asked honey, let’s bring out my special guest out.” the sounds of a muffled cry and cloth are heard before jake’s voice faint and hoarse comes out of the phone, “let us go man, just please let us go.”
you gasp loudly, heeseung slams his fist down at the table, and jay upon hearing jake’s voice runs into the room, a look you’ve never seen before on his face, either of their faces. jay looks like he may faint yet angry while heeseung looks as if he’s never experienced anger in the way he’s had before.
“i’m sure you know now who is with me.” the voice chuckles and you can hear some crying from a girl as well in the background, “i managed to get a two for one deal tonight for you all.”
“the fuck do you want with us?” heeseung grits out and the caller laughs.
“it’s not so what i want with your group, it’s what i want done with you, lee heeseung.”
heeseung’s bravado falters slightly, “what are you talking about? what could i offer you?”
“i wanna know why.. scratch that i think.. everyone here tonight deserves to know why actually, about the things you’ve done for your beloved radio show.”
you slowly turn your head to heeseung and he’s pale, hands slightly shaking, “hee? what is this guy talking about?”
heeseung looks up at you, pupils blown wide in fear and you feel your heart break at how scared he is, you know you’re not much better either, “i.. i don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense, i.. there’s.. i don’t know.” he’s panicking and you reach over to grab his hand to calm him down some. his hands are clammy but given the situation you understand, you squeeze and he squeezes back.
the voice scoffs, “oh please, get that fake shit out of my face. heeseung knows what he did sweetheart and if i were you i would think twice about holding his hands when all they know are acts of violence.”
jay speaks up before you have the choice to ask what they meant, “i’m calling the police, sick freak.”
“ah ah ah..” the caller tuts out, “if any of you three call the police, your beloved pal jake is getting gutted. i’ll even string out his body parts so prettily for you. send some lovely pictures, y/n you’d appreciate my art for you? right?”
you frankly feel like throwing up and you shake your head frantically, “no.. no..”
the caller lets out a cackle and speaks in a mocking tone, “aww… poor thing is so scared, heeseung why don’t you comfort your poor girl, after all you’ve done sooooo much for her.”
“fuck. off.” heeseung snarls out, hand not holding yours gripping the table and the strength behind it shocks you.
“no fun, either of you, jay’s always been a bit boring anyways, wanting the police involved in our fun so early. however i’m aware we are live.. so i guess we should speed things up. besides jake here i have someone important to jay here. say hello to jay.”
the sobbing girl is heard more clearly and the pit in your stomach is ever growing, the feeling of vomiting coming back tenfold, “why.. why are you doing this.. please i never did anything to you, please please please, let me go i won’t say anything. please j-”
a loud bang and a shriek is heard and jakes voice is screaming, “stop! stop just let her go, man. what is wrong with you?!”
some more shuffling and the caller is heard better, “what’s wrong with me? me..? you were the one who brought your dear friend’s ex out on a date.”
jay slams his hands on the table, leaning forward, “my EX? you were out with fucking yujin?”
more sobs from yujin, you suppose, comes through the phone, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i wanted to make you jealous. i wanted you back, that was it i’m sorry i’m so sorry.”
rubbing his jaw, jay paces around the room, shouting out a “fuck” and slamming his fist against the wall, “jay! this isn’t the time! this asshole WANTS us to act like this, you’re playing into his hands!” heeseung calls out, standing up quickly, “he WANTS you to get angry, he’s enjoying this.”
“yeah?” jay spins around and lets out a shaky laugh, “really? and how do you know that heeseung? you know this guy or something? i wouldn’t be surprised considering you’ve got some fucking secrets of your own now.” jay jabs at heeseung’s chest and he stumbles back in surprise.
you put your head in your hands and yell, “stop! just stop you two! a sadistic killer has jake and yujin and you’re fighting?! what the fuck. just what the fuck?!”
“yeahh.. you two, what the fuck..?” the voice giggles, “you should be more like y/n and focus on the two that’s with me. maybe you can make y/n’s job easier and help her with her choice.”
your whip your head up, tears streaming down your face, “what the hell do you mean help you, you sick fuck?!”
“that’s not very kind now baby… and i mean helping me choose who i kill for everyone tonight of course.”
oh. oh no. no no no no no. absolutely not, you would not choose that, there’s no way you could bring yourself to do that. you shakingly look at the board and whimper out a “no” which the caller barks out a laugh in return, “i’m afraid it’s non negotiable. if you don’t.. i choose at random then and the other person lives with the information that they were saved because of me! or… i just kill both.”
the two men in the room with you freeze at the information they’re hearing, heeseung slowly walks to you, pushes your mic away and crouches down to your level, putting his hands around your body to help the tremors going through your body, he rubs your back soothingly and jay’s jaw clenches as he angrily blows air out of his nose.
heeseung lowly whispers into your ear, “it’s okay y/n.. you.. you gotta do it.. you can do this.. make the choice.. it’s easy right..? you don’t know yujin.. jake needs to be saved y/nnie. jay will understand.. yujin cheated on him anyways.”
you’re not sure why heeseung is calmly telling you this information, you’re not sure why jay won’t look at you directly, you’re not sure why it has to be you that makes this choice, but as heeseung whispers more into your ear about how you can do it and he believes you’d make the right choice you start thinking that doesn’t matter and heeseung’s right. jake needs to be saved. jake is your friend. you don’t know yujin. yujin was a bad girlfriend to jay. you don’t question heeseung’s whispers, you don’t question heeseung at all.
“jake..” you quietly mutter out.
“what was that? i couldn’t hear you..?” the killer sings out and you almost throw up for what feels like the thirteenth time that night.
“jake..!” you speak up a little louder and heeseung squeezes your body comfortingly, “i choose to save jake.”
yujin screams in anguish and you flinch in guilt. “excellent choice, y/n. saving your friends.. how heroic.” the killer praises and you put your head in the crook of heeseung’s neck, wishing this nightmare would just end, he just rubs your back, but you miss the grin he sends jay’s way.
the phone is set down and you can hear yujin plead for her life with the killer, “i just did what you wanted! you said.. you said j- no no stop don’t come any closer i swear i swear no one will know. let me go please. please. i’m sorry,” she cries louder and starts pleading to you all, “jay please.. convince her to save me. jay please we can be happy again. no. no. no! NO! JA–”
the wet sounds of a knife meeting flesh is loud, yujin’s cries become louder and you breakingly sob into heeseung’s shoulder, he grips your body stronger and continues to rub your back. the squelch noise of multiple stabs into yujins poor body ring in your ears. her choked back sobs and cries as her throat fills with her blood causes your sobs to bellow out even louder, heeseung whispers that everything’ll be alright, his constant whispering so soothing you try to focus on them instead of yujin’s dying noises.
it feels like an eternity later but the noises quiet down and all that’s left is silence in the room and the killer’s heavy breathing. “thank you, for allowing me the opportunity to give you and your listeners a show.”
more silence fills the room and you can hear jay’s footsteps in the background pacing once more but you don’t dare look up, an irrational fear that the killer is in the room with you playing in your mind.
heeseung’s eyes darken as he looks down at your shaking body, the small whimpers you let out ignites a fire in his body that he’s only ever gotten killing others and he has stop the smile from forming on his face as he thinks how quick you were to just trust him. his eyes flicker towards jay as he turns off the equipment in the radio show, jay nods once everything is off and they’re no longer live.
the voice speaks up once more and your body stills, having believed the killer dropped the call, “you’re always so sweet y/nnie. so so so kind. the best player for our games. sweet dreams.”
you slowly lift your head in confusion but a small pinch to your neck makes your head drop back down, your eyes blearing together as the only thing you can make out is heeseung’s necklace and white shirt, the feeling of his steady breathing and whatever just stung you luring you into the dark and away from the sick and twisted situation.
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charlesf1leclerc · 2 months
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Summary- one day your whole world turns upside down and where will your lives go from here 
Warnings: childbirth, teen pregnancy 
A/N- this is inspired by the stab series bump. Not exactly the same but wanted to give a nod to my inspiration. Also I’m so inspired right now ahh!
Today started as a regular school day, I woke up , placed my uniform on , packed my lunch and left. Another day , final year, then I'm free , no more highschool. I worked hard, I got good grades , I had a small group of friends , my life is organized , put together and I know where I'm going. 
I walked down the sidewalk, down my usual route. Today we had an oral presentation. 25% of our final grade , I knew my points were thought out , I was prepared , I got this, I had no nerves. A cramping sensation fills my stomach again. This had been happening since I woke up sporadically, it would come and go for a few seconds but now they were getting further apart and more painful. I warped my hands around my lower body, the pain went away and I kept walking. Upon entering the gates , my ears were filled with the noise of highschool students like every morning. Girls gossiping, boys …. Being boys. The pain had gotten slightly worse on my way over , but again came and went. 
An arm wrapped around my shoulder. 
“ Morning girl” Madison enthused
“ Morning” 
“ Stop being so uptight you are going to smash this “ She nudged me 
“ I’m not , I just don’t feel well ok “ I shrugged back 
“ don’t tell me your nervous “ Mad’s smirked
“ no of course not” I shot back 
Maybe it was nerves, but I never get nervous , something was up. 
As I walked further to my locker the pain came back, it was like hell. I felt like I was going to die. This was not normal. The pain hit me so hard, I began to feel dizzy and then something built up in my throat. 
My locker door slammed closed and I ran to the nearest bathroom leaving Maddie and my locker very confused. 
Upon reaching the girls bathroom I ran into the nearest stall and slammed the door closed, kneeling down by the bowl and pouring out the vomit that rose from my throat. Something was wrong. The pain was intense, the vomit. This was not nerves.  
“ Y/N!” Madison yelled, hearing her footsteps come into the bathroom. 
I didn't reply. Vomiting again
“ I’m really worried, are you ok? “ 
I couldn’t reply so I left her un answered
“ I’m going to get someone!” 
That was best , I ‘m scared , this feels like death , something was not ok. 
Within moments a teacher had also entered the bathroom. Crawling under the bathroom stall door to get to me and seeing my state. 
Paramedics were called and before I knew it I was whisked away into the back of a ambulance, displayed to the whole school, I would be embarrassed later but right now I couldn’t take on anymore. 
Sweat dripped from my forehead and the pain was unbearable as we drove down the road. 
The paramedics tended to me , feeling my stomach, attached to wires. 
“ Ok y/n your baby is coming now im going to need you to push” He spoke 
Baby? Baby! BABY!
I was not pregnant. This was a mistake, people know when they are pregnant , I did and don’t know that I am pregnant , well was in a few moments time if a baby comes out. 
“ No I'm , I'm not having a baby!” 
“ I assure you , you are.. Did you not know?” he inquired 
“NO!” 
Did this seem like a person who knew they were having a baby, I don’t even look pregnant how can  a baby fit in there. 
“ you’re going to have to push anyway don’t focus on anything else” 
The pain was unbearable. He cut at the bottom of my skirt , to allow access and I pushed. I didn’t think I just did. 
Hours later 
“ A baby” my mum spoke from beside my bed in the hospital looking at the tiny creature next to me. “ Why didn’t you tell me y/n/n”
“ I didn’t know” I spoke emotionless
She sighed and looked away towards the door as the nurse walked in. 
‘ Everything looks good on both of your charts” she spoke chipley. “ Y/n there is some counseling we recommend to women who had a cryptic pregnancy, and to people of your age” 
I rolled my eyes and my mum took the paper. 
“ Thank you” my mum spoke up and the nurse left the room 
“ I don't want it” I looked to my mum
“ counseling would be good sweetie” 
“ No i don’t want the baby” 
My mum sighed “ Babies can be wonderful she may teach you some things, and shouldn’t this be a conversation we have with the father and his family first” 
“ I can’t raise a baby, I won’t “ 
And i didnt even want to start on the father talk I couldn’t think about that 
“ Who is the father? “ my mum asked
“ I don’t know” i bluntly replied
She wasn’t convinced but let me be for now. 
It later came that adoption can not happen until 30 days after the birth as the mother is not in a state to decide properly. 
“ 30 days , we have to take her home for 30 days!” I squeaked
“You can last sweetie get time to bond to see if this is what you really want” She smiled looking at the baby again, easy for her to say. I’m 17 and I can't raise a baby. 
How did I get here….
Dad Pov
It was just another day at school. My life was boring, karting, school back home with my siblings, dad and stepmom and repeat. At school I had it all but in life I had nothing. I wasn’t sure about where I was going to go after school, I didn’t even really want to continue school. 
It was currently later in the afternoon. I was sitting on the bench at lunch time as I waited for the others to join me. 
Lost in my thoughts. Leo came over and slammed himself down on the top of the table next to me snapping me out of my head.
“Sup,dude” we fist bumped my head still remaining straight ahead.
“You hear about that y/n girl?” He asked looking at me.
Y/n the one person I was not into talking about today. I had seen her being taken away in an ambulance today but had not yet heard what really went down.
“ yeah , crazy “ I mumbled 
“ yeah apparently she had a baby” 
What everything faded had I just heard him right
“ what?” I snapped to look at him
“ yeah  she hid it pretty well , she didn’t even know apparently” he nodded placing his food in his mouth.
She didn’t even look pregnant, how could she not of known. 
“ Wonder who the father is? You think it’s someone from here?” He intriguingly asked
I was just as curious, my hands began to sweat, surely one night could not have caused all this. It can’t be me!
A/N- ahhhh stay tuned and also vote on who you want the father to be 😉
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lipstick kisses
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
wc: 1.1K
warnings: one ass smack, vomit mention, reader wears makeup
summary: your boyfriend is just too cute to keep your lips to yourself.
A/N: used the prompts "you're gonna get lipstick all over me" and forehead kisses both by @ihateprompts. no ghostface. to that anon who wanted more ethan, here you go baby.
masterlist / ethan landry
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was the sidewalk tilting? was that a giant chasm or just a slight crack in the cement? your legs felt like jell-o suddenly.
“oh- oh, okay. honey, can you- here just…” your boyfriend, ethan squatted down with his hands on his thighs and back slightly hunched. he looked over his shoulder and gave you that adorable smile. “piggyback ride for one, honey.”
feet stumble on the two steps you took, hands holding his shoulders as you regained your balance for a moment. and then you threw up on the lawn outside the party house. ethan rushed over to keep any hair away from your face and rubbed a soothing hand over your back as you heaved until nothing came up. as you stood up you wiped the back of your hand over your mouth and then pouted with droopy eyes at your boy.
“oh, honey…” ethan murmured. the hand not stopping their motions as you flung yourself into a hug.
“i’m tired.” mumbled into his neck. ethan asked you to repeat yourself so you moved your head back and said again, “i’m tired.” in a more whiny tone.
“okay, well, let me give you a piggyback ride to my dorm. just gotta stay awake for ten more minutes, can you do that?” his big hands held your cheeks to keep your head from lulling about.
you managed a weak nod then ethan returned to his previous position. your hands back to holding his shoulders and you stalled for a moment, again. “gonna throw up again?” you heard the worry in his tone. you shook your head and before ethan moved, an impulsive thought came to mind. you smacked his ass.
“y/n!” ethan screeched and you just giggled. “o- okay. i’m ready to- to head home now.” ethan watched you for a moment longer before facing forward. you jumped on his back a little shaky, but ethan’s hands caught your thighs and hitched you to a comfortable spot as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck.
the two of you walked in silence for a while. taking notice of everyone’s party attire or listening to the music that was booming through the walls. the whooping and hollering of drunk college students mixed with the honking of horns from passing cars. the blackmore fountain came into view.
lips started to press kisses onto the side of ethan’s profile. exaggerating mwahs, sloppy aim, ethan’s boyish giggles. your love attack continued until ethan stopped at the door to his building. two more sweet kisses to his right cheek just as he tapped your thigh, telling you to slide down.
when you rounded his back and saw his face, you had to suppress the grin from coming to. ethan’s brows moved and arched in question.
“what?” a hand came to his face, “do i have-“ fingers moved away and were stained red, from your lipstick. a drunken snort at the look of shock painting ethan’s face while you were just overjoyed.
“honey… i know this color stains.” “well, all the girls ogling at you will know that you're spoken for.”
his lips quirked and he looked at the ground before pulling open the door. “spoken for? i didn’t realize this was the eighteen hundreds.” he pushed you through the threshold and moved towards the elevator to his floor.
a sigh of relief left your lungs when ethan pushed the door to his and chad’s shared dorm room. zombie-like feet carried you towards ethan’s made bed and you flopped face-first into the covers. the feel of ethan’s fingers holding your ankle and pulling your shoes free made you sigh in contentment.
“honey,” his hands held your waist and tugged at your body, “i have those wipes you keep here. you have to take your makeup off. you always reprimand me in the mornings if i don’t tell you.”
a huff as you pushed off the bed and turned onto your back. body at a slight angle with just a leg over the edge, with your hands sitting over your stomach, “can you just do it for me? please?” lips in a pout with pleading eyes.
ethan swiped at the concealer that was creased under your eyes, “okay. i’ll be gentle.” he bent under his bed for the box of stuff he kept specifically for you.
“you always are.” a mutter as you watched his curly hair dip down. his face popped back into view, a blue pack of makeup wipes in hand. you shuffled your head around his pillow until your head was turned his way, watching his fingers pull the flap away and waiting for him to caress your face like you were fine china.
“i just… rub this over your face?” he stared at the material. “yeah, but you’ll need to be light-handed around my eyes. don’t have many of my lashes to spare.”
ethan’s upper body leaned over yours, his left hand holding a side of your face while his right moved the wipe over your skin. he watched as your layers of makeup left your face and showed your imperfect skin beneath; pores, bumps, pimples, and some annoying facial hair that needs to be dealt with on another day. but you didn’t shy away as ethan’s eyes danced over those bumps, you just gazed back with slightly hooded eyes. Blown pupils zoned in on the kiss stains that marked him as yours.
“take a picture. it’ll last longer.” pushing his curly bangs away, “too lazy to grab my phone. but i so wish i wasn’t.” at the simple comment ethan stopped his task and grabbed your phone from the charger and plopped it on your clasped hands. a quick “thank you” as you went to the camera and captured the kissed-stained face of your boyfriend who smiled easily and flashed those lovely eyes. happy with the results you let him get back to work without interruption.
after three makeup wipes to ensure your face was as clean as it could be for the night, you changed into comfy clothing. you waited in bed as you watched ethan flit around the small space, turning the light off, and climbed into bed.  
the two of you lay side by side, hands tucked under your heads that sat atop pillows. your eyes were straining to stay awake for just a bit longer, but you were pulled by the heavy hands of the sandman into lovely dreams involving ethan. your ears were able to hear the bedding crunch around you and feel the slight heat that ethan’s body gave off as he pulled you closer to his person. his hand rubbed up and down along your back and he pressed sweet kisses to your forehead.
the last kiss lasted just a bit longer. he lingered in the touch before pulling back and tucking your head to his neck. ethan whispered good night and i love you, before dreaming of you while you slept beside him.
-
ethan landry taglist: @astrxq / @websterss /
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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 months
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Made of Meat
Danny Phantom/DC (Animal Man) crossover (thank you @stealingyourbones for the prompt)
When strange, faintly glowing meat creatures start rampaging through the streets of San Diego, there's only one man to call. And when Animal Man could use a helping hand, Phantom swoops in to assist. Or, Danny Phantom and Animal Man team up to fight the Lunch Lady
Read it on AO3
[Warnings for minor violence, mentions of vomit, and repeated mentions/descriptions of raw meat]
When strange, faintly glowing meat creatures started rampaging through the streets of San Diego, there was only one man to call. 
Absorbing the power of flight from a hawk overhead, Buddy Baker, A.K.A. Animal Man soared toward downtown to confront the monsters wreaking havoc on the innocent civilians of his city, his blond hair fluttering in the wind.
By the time he arrived, the chaos was well underway. Just like the reports had claimed, several unidentified creatures were causing the brunt of the damage, each of them about four feet tall and composed entirely of raw meat, still dripping with blood and already attracting flies, with glowing red eyes and fleshy teeth. Animal Man could see pools of vomit on the sidewalks from people who had evidently been too disgusted by the creatures to hold down their lunches, but he'd seen far worse himself and wasn't bothered by the creatures' grotesque appearance.
He swooped down to snatch a little girl out of the way of one of the things and take her to the nearest screaming woman—her mother, just as he had guessed—and urged them to run. There weren't as many people downtown as Buddy would have normally expected to see at this time, probably most of them already had already run away, but a few stragglers still remained, most of them filming the incident on their phones, some hiding, none of them in immediate danger.
With his bird's eye view, Animal Man had spotted a peculiar woman in the center of the commotion. She looked confused and sickly, with greenish skin. It wasn't her appearance that bothered him, though. Something about her felt off, and it unsettled the hero in a way he couldn't quite put into words. Using the sharp ears of a bat from the nearby zoo, he could hear her even from high in the sky, demanding to know where she was and what was for lunch.
Whoever she was, Buddy was pretty sure she was the woman in charge, and these meat gremlins were her doing. If he could knock her out, or better yet, peacefully convince her to stop, her creatures would stop too.
With the strength of a charging rhino, Animal Man plowed through her meaty minions with little trouble and slammed his whole body into her, sending her flying a few feet to land sprawled on the ground. He rushed forward to pin her so she couldn't get away, and it was then that he began to realize what was so off about her.
Her skin was cold and green, her eyes glowed red, and her clothes were about forty years out of date. But even more strange that that, he didn't feel any connection to her through the Red. The Red connected all animal life, from the tiniest single-celled organism, to the biggest blue whale, and humans were included in that. Through the Red, Animal Man could absorb the powers of any living creature. 
Not this woman, though.
She looked human, and acted human... but she wasn't human.
Animal man dug deeper, trying to feel out a connection to the Green, or the Rot. It was harder for him to sense them, but all three elements were connected, and they encompassed all living things, even after death.
Except for this mysterious woman.
She wasn't fauna, or flora, or decay. And now that he was feeling through the Red, he realized that her constructs weren't connected to it either, even though they looked like they could have crawled right out of it moments before they showed up here. Buddy didn't know how that was possible, but right now, what she was didn't matter half as much as stopping her.
"I don't want to hurt you anymore," he said firmly, "but you have to stop what you're doing, or I'll be forced to. I can't let you keep attacking innocent people with your creatures. It has to stop." 
The woman scowled and stood up, her body passing right through Animal Man like he was made of air, and a chill ran down his spine and he shuddered as he fell a few inches onto the asphalt below.
"What the...?" He tried to grab her again, but he couldn't even touch her. His hands passed right through her, like he was trying to catch smoke.
"You think you can stop me?!" the woman demanded, her hair standing up and writhing like snakes on her head. The meat monsters turned as one and began to converge on Animal Man. "Today's menu is doom, and now, it's lunchtime!"
"It's four-thirty!"
Animal Man snapped his head up toward the sound of the new voice, and saw a teenager flying into view. He wore a black and white jumpsuit, had white hair, and the green glow of his eyes was visible even from a distance. The teen rocketed down and slammed his fists right into the strange woman's face, sending her skidding backwards.
"You!" she hissed, her eyes widening and pulsing red—it was terrifying in person, but Buddy couldn't help the thought that it was reminiscent of a really angry Loony Tunes character.
Immediately, her creatures turned their attention away from Animal Man, and toward the newcomer. Evidently, she and him had a history. And she'd determined that the kid was a higher priority than Buddy was.
"That's right, Lunch Lady, it's me again," the kid said, grabbing a thermos that was hanging off his belt. "And I'm here to tell you that the only thing on the menu for you today is soup!"
Whatever he planned to do with that thermos, he didn't get the chance, as one of the meat gremlins morphed its arm into a long whip and knocked it away from him.
"Ew!" the kid said, dropping a few feet to punch the nearest creature and then dry-heaving for a second. "Are these things raw? Why—eugh!" he cut himself off with a shudder as another one got close and he had to punch it. Clearly the creatures were not his bag.
"Hey kid!" Animal Man shouted, ready to offer his help.
"It's Phantom," the kid shouted back. "Wait, who're you?"
"Animal Man," he replied. "I'll keep the meat things occupied if you can deal with her."
"You sure, dude?" Phantom flew back out of the meat things' reach with a grimace, and dodged the sprays of blood they spewed up after him looking almost as green as the Lunch Lady. "These things are pretty gross. Way grosser than the last time I fought 'em."
"I've handled grosser than them," Buddy assured. "They're not a problem—but I can't fight someone I can't touch."
Phantom turned slightly to look at the Lunch Lady, who was laughing triumphantly, and got splashed in the back of the head by one of the meat creatures still bombarding him. He yelped in disgust, and Buddy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.
"Alright, deal!" Phantom agreed, wiping the back of his head with a gloved hand. "I'll leave 'em to you, just don't let them merge with each other, or her, they become a much bigger problem that way."
"Got it!" 
Animal Man summoned up some elephant strength, leopard agility and the reflexes of a fly and ran at the creatures. The force of his punches caused them to burst apart instantly, and in the time it took one to reform itself, he could take down three more.
Meanwhile, Phantom shot upward, firing a green beam at the Lunch Lady. His head turned frantically, like he was looking for something, but he didn't seem to find it. The Lunch Lady screamed as he dive-bombed her again, this time sending her through a wall—the wall itself undamaged. She came back through it moments later, back on her feet and angrier than ever. 
As much as he wanted to keep an eye on the kid to make sure he didn't get hurt, Buddy still had to focus on his own fight. Phantom was clearly familiar with this enemy, had apparently fought her before, and he seemed like he could handle himself. None of that stopped Buddy from worrying. None of his worrying changed the fact that he had a job to do.
In his moment of distraction, one of the creatures slammed into the side of Animal Man's knee, knocking him down. He used his elephant strength to throw it off and watched it splatter into a bloody, fleshy mass against a concrete wall. 
As he rolled over to get back on his feet and resume the fight, he saw the thermos Phantom had dropped. It had rolled out of sight under the bus stop bench. That must've been what the kid was looking for! Although Animal Man had no idea what Phantom could need it for, he darted forward like a cheetah on all fours and snatched the thermos up.
"Hey Phantom!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and kicking another creature into pieces. "You need this, right?"
Phantom turned, and grinned widely when he saw what his new ally was holding. Animal Man threw it up to him and he caught it easily and uncapped it right away, aiming it at the Lunch Lady.
Animal Man punched out another meat gremlin as a blue light shone from inside the thermos, and the Lunch Lady screamed and shouted in protest as she was sucked inside. As soon as the cap was back on the thermos, the remaining creatures collapsed into piles of raw meat, covered in rocks and dirt and buzzing flies. How this mess would get cleaned up was anyone's guess.
Fight ended, Phantom flew down to where Animal Man was standing, surrounded by a ring of red meat and plucked poultry, but did not touch down on the ground. A strategic choice, although it was a bit too late for the other hero to do the same.
"Eugh, I smell like a butcher shop and I have entrails in my hair," Animal Man commented, sniffing his sleeve with a grimace. "My wife isn't gonna so much as wave hello until I take a shower, and it's gonna be hell getting the stench outta my suit."
"Oh, uh... here." 
Phantom put his hand on Buddy's shoulder, and a cold empty sensation wracked his body for a few seconds. All the gross chunks and fluids dropped to the ground, falling through him like he was made of air, just like the Lunch Lady had moved through him earlier. When Phantom took his hand away, Buddy was clean. Even the smell didn't seem to be coming from him anymore, although it still definitely surrounded him.
"Wow, thanks," Buddy said, marveling at the distinct lack of red stains on his white gloves which had been absolutely soaked in it a moment before. "That trick must come in pretty useful for you."
"Yeah, well, it's the least I could do after you helped me out," Phantom said. His shoulders hunched and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It was all my fault the Lunch Lady attacked in the first place. I was stupid and forgot to make sure the thermos was empty before I left Amity Park."
"Hey, you're not stupid; don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes, what's important is that you were able to fix it," Animal Man argued. 
Phantom smiled gratefully, and it wasn't until he took his hand away from his neck that he seemed to remember the splatter of blood and juices he'd gotten from one of the creatures and he wrinkled his nose at the red stain on his own glove. He hardly seemed to think about it as he turned himself intangible like he had to Buddy before and let the viscera fall to the sidewalk with a splat.
"So... what was she anyway?" Buddy asked, doing his best to keep a straight face. "The Lunch Lady I mean. She definitely wasn't human, I could tell that much."
"Oh, she was a ghost," Phantom replied. "I'm a ghost, too, but I'm a good guy, I swear. Sorry, I forget not a lot of people have seen ghosts outside of Amity Park. They're super common where I come from."
"A ghost, huh?"
Animal Man considered that. It would make sense. A ghost was dead, but not decaying, not made of flesh or vegetation. Not fauna, not flora, not rot. It tracked with what he had sensed from the woman before. But if Phantom was a ghost too, that meant he'd died at about the same age Buddy's own son, Cliff, had, and that sent a pang of heartache through the man's chest.
One thing didn't make sense, though. Phantom claimed to be a ghost, like the Lunch Lady, but unlike with her, Buddy could sense Phantom through the Red. It was a thin connection, like the kid was hanging onto it by a thread, but it was a solid one, too. If this kid really was a ghost, he wasn't the same as the one he'd just trapped in that thermos of his.
For a moment, Buddy thought about pressing for answers, but he quickly decided against it. It could be that the truth was too personal, or embarrassing, or even dangerous for Phantom to reveal, especially to a virtual stranger, even one who'd helped him out. Besides everyone was entitled to their secrets. Instead, Animal Man smiled at the kid and clapped him on the back.
"That's pretty cool," he said. "Say, do ghosts eat? You should come over to my place for dinner. After a hard-fought battle like that, I'd say you deserve it."
"You can eat after fighting those things?" Phantom looked down at what remained of the meat creatures and gagged.
"Trust me, if I wasn't already a vegetarian, I would be after this," Buddy replied. "My wife's making some meat-free lasagna, and we always have tons of leftovers. She usually doesn't like me taking hero stuff home with me, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind in this case."
"She knows you're a hero?" 
The open shock on Phantom's face was a bit of a surprise, but then again, he had said he was from out of town. Just because Buddy was often swarmed by local paparazzi, didn't mean he was any more than regionally famous.
"Everyone knows," he said with a shrug. "I don't keep my identity a secret. It can get annoying sometimes, but I don't really have any reason to. I'm not one of the big-shots, like Batman and Wonder-Woman. You're not from around here, so I bet you never even heard of Animal Man before today."
"Well... no...."
"Exactly," Buddy made sure to grin wide enough that the kid knew there were no hard feelings about it. "So what do you say? You coming over for dinner, or what?"
"I'd love to, but I can't," Phantom said apologetically. "I have to deal with all this meat and then my—uh... I just have other plans tonight."
"You need help with the clean up?"
Phantom frowned down at the piled of meat still surrounding the two of them. 
Maybe this really hadn't been the best place to discuss dinner plans. Man, Buddy really was desensitized to this kinda stuff wasn't he? For a guy who didn't eat meat, he sure spent a lot of time surrounded by it, both in the Red, and now here.
"Nah," Phantom decided finally. "I think I can just turn the ground intangible and phase everything down under the street level so it can decompose."
"Just turn the ground intangible, huh?" Animal Man huffed a light laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, alright, if you're sure. I should get going anyway. Stay safe, kiddo. Maybe I'll see you around again before you head back home."
"Uh..." Phantom blinked owlishly at him. "Y-yeah... you uh... stay safe too."
Animal Man smiled and nodded, and took off toward his home, borrowing the power of flight from a pigeon on a telephone wire. The way Phantom had reacted, it was almost like no one had ever said that to him before. Stay safe.
Where had he said he was from? Amity Park?
Maybe Animal Man should keep tabs on him from now on, just in case. After all, ghost or not, he was still just a teenager, and all heroes needed allies from time to time.
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