#I'M BEING PLAGUED WITH VISIONS
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heyacris · 6 days ago
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Can't sleep right now, I'm daydreaming about hypothetical routes and the good and bad endings to a Blush Blush visual novel
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roobiedo · 3 days ago
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🎉🚲 THE POPSICLE BIKE IS HERE 🚲🎉
and its featuring all sorts of fun, fruity flavors! freshly picked from the food forests, blended and frozen into a familiar shape, then paired with a fancy floral cone. and all for free? F-YEAH
all the vendor asks for in return is to leave a nice message in the tags for him (or for his pet plant Pothony). so go ahead, choose your favourite!
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loooong exposition ahead, bear with me ok
when i was a primary school kid (like 7), there was a row of bushes lining the garden outside our classroom. and on them were clusters and clusters of tiny red flowers, bunched together like pre-made bouquets. they're called ixora, locally known as jejarum (needle).
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somehow, mini me discovered that if you look real close at the center of each flower, you'll find a little tab in the shape of a sprout (that's the stigma). and if you gently tug on that tab, you'll pull out a flimsy, needle-like stick (that's the style). and at the end of that stick...... was a dollop of liquid gold (it's nectar).
at that age? it felt like hitting the jackpot! my friends and i we were SET. gluttony Gripped us as we descended upon those poor little flowers, sucking up every drop of nectar we could find, leaving a trail of bright red petals in our wake. yet it was never enough. of course it wasn't.
yeah i'm exaggerating but it really did feel like i committed a massacre ok 😭 i don't know that child anymore i've grown!! left their insatiable little shell behind!!!
anyway turns out that secret childhood hack wasn't much of a secret after all. my mum confessed to doing the exact same thing decades ago when she was younger, and a quick internet search shows that apparently its a pretty common bad habit/funny memory shared among people here. rite of passage. doesn't lessen my guilt though!
so here i am, exposing my baby crimes to the world, and holding myself accountable by making ixora-inspired concept art lol. sorry to these cultural icons my bad queens
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speaking of school, here's another nostalgic memory: the ice cream uncle.
this wasn't just a singular guy, but rather a League of Guys, with one common goal: make a quick buck from oblivious kids who, once again, were enthralled by the power of gluttony's grasp, and would pay anything for a taste of the nectarous after-school treat.
no guilt here though, was worth every cent.
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they always had a diverse selection of goods: ice cream in cones, ice cream in cups, classic ice pops on a stick... but once in a while, we get what is essentially the local version of freezer pops. we call them 'ais krim malaysia', and under the burning sun they were a MESS to deal with. if you weren't devouring your icicle within 5 minutes of purchase, you'd be going home with a sticky bag of juice and a stained school uniform. and yet, i've never seen a kid walk away from an ice cream uncle without a smile on their face.
nowadays, ice cream uncles are an endangered species. big name brands and their store empires are chasing local vendors out of their niche. not to mention the hardships they face under increasingly abnormal weather patterns. plus, even if they did make a comeback, there's the issue of all that plastic waste. which brings me to...
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this concept art i made! (yeah we're finally getting to it!)
once again, i'm partnering 2 very loosely related pieces of my cultural backstory, with a sustainable twist. in my ideal solarpunk city, we're bringing street-side popsicles back into style, and packaging them in biodegradable membranes. in fact, our local favourite seaweed gelatin — agar-agar (the name originated here!) — is already being used for this sort of technology.
the pops also come with a reusable cone in the shape of an ixora flower. this way, we can still keep the tradition of getting a sugar rush from within its petals, without. y'know. stealing the primary food source away from native bugs who depend on it 💀
the umbrella could serve a function too... maybe the buds that make up the ends of its wire frame could glow in the dark? that'd look cool. oh and i did draw a classic motorbike here for the nostalgia factor, but let's pretend its an old model that got modded to run on renewable energy instead!
in terms of fashion... i highlighted parts of the outfits that are ixora inspired, including the shirt and bandana made from batik, a dyeing technique invented in our region. some other solarpunk aspects include a photovoltaic wide-brimmed hat, a layered frankenstein dress, and that... apron-skort thing that i made up on the spot. and that weird shirt. people in this city just like chopping up and swapping fabrics i guess!
so do u guys like pothony c:
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lemonycranberries · 4 months ago
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i haven't even actually read the book of bill. so WHY does my mind keep bothering me with a bizarre inescapable desire to make a billford edit to casual by chappell roan
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revivisection · 1 year ago
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sex under the cut because well. what else am i going to do with these images
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i think they have sex and i also think they don't have sex. hope this helps.
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disenchanteds · 6 months ago
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this goes on main methinks
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talentforlying · 10 months ago
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standing before you today to say that the jld writers' choice to assign constantine the house of mystery, aka the one that belonged to cain, was a WILD move and SHOCKINGLY emblematic of a lot of who he is as an archetype, particularly in relation to his family: as betrayer son and brother, defiler of his father's house, favorer of bloodless sacrifice yet steeped in the opposite, the first killer (or so he believes), cardinal sins of pride and envy, murderer of those he claims to love, liar to the face of god. cursed forever to walk alone, city-coded, shielded from vengeance but unable to shield those around him, slaking the earth in blood where he only ever wanted to sow, an eternity of regret is not enough to repair the damage he has done.
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malachitezmeyka · 3 months ago
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PMS is seriously gonna kill me at some point bc it's the middle of the school day and yet I'm genuinely out of my mind horny
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malcriada · 1 year ago
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ougghhhh when the brainrot hits
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disregardcanon · 1 year ago
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thinking about different yellowjackets gender bent aus and oh boy i wish i wasn’t
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spiderjaw · 2 years ago
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I had . a vision .
gerard way . as that one painting of Lucifer .
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messenger-of-babel · 2 months ago
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Voicemails
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Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)
Word Count: 2.1K
Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!
General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.
Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~
RiRi xx
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"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.
"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.
"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."
Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.
He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.
If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.
You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."
You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.
So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.
You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.
You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.
You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.
Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.
So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.
"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"
He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.
"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.
"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."
He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.
His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.
"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.
"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.
You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.
You have (1) new voicemails.
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lvlyghost · 1 year ago
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The Things I Never Said
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.
Word Count: 2.2k
Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨
A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄
Masterlist✨| Part 2
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You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.
This can't be happening. Not to you.
It's not that you didn't want to have kids.
But Simon didn't.
At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.
Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.
Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.
You love him.
He cares for you.
But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.
Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.
Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.
And you fell hard.
Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.
-
You didn't get any sleep last night.
Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.
You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.
When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.
It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.
"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."
You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.
Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.
This whole situation has you sensitive.
You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants
Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.
"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.
You give him a small smile and a nod.
"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"
Gaz chuckles.
"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."
"Oh." You say.
Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.
A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.
"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.
You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.
I wish. You want to say.
But nothing will ever be okay after last night.
"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."
Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.
Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.
Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.
You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.
Get a fucking grip!
Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.
You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.
It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.
In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.
"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.
-
"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.
"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.
"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.
"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."
-
You don't.
And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.
Just not right now.
The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.
It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.
But you're scared of the outcome.
By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.
Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...
Holy shit. You think.
The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.
"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.
"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."
"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."
"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.
Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?
That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?
"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.
Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.
Promises.
Things you never thought you'd hear.
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daphwritesworld · 9 days ago
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Chapter 5— How Could U Love Somebody Like Me.
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a/n: we finally find out who mysteriously girl is and what happened in barca. now it’s just time for Leah to find out…and lord knows how that hot head will take it 😅
content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, impact play, fingering (both receiving technically), nipple sucking, Jealous!Leah, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial, squirting, some bratty!reader just like once or twice,
warnings: public sex…like y'all get caught in 4k HD. hide the mother fuckin cameras !! walked in on while fucking oops, locker room sex, dom & sub relationship
synopsis: Leah's been giving you the silent treatment, so you recruit Keira for help.
word count: 5.0k
Series Masterlist: here.
!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!
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It’s been a whole week since you’ve last spoken to Leah. She's been avoiding you like the plague ever since the incident. Alessia let you stay with her for a few days until you felt well enough to go back to your own home. She didn't push you for any details, but you could tell she had a million questions. You appreciate her for keeping them to herself while in your presence. Practice has been awkward, especially with everyone’s whispers behind your back. It's all becoming a little too familiar in the worst way possible. Keira has been an angel in disguise during all this. She might be Leah’s best mate, but you two have a special bond that you cultivated while at Barca. She understands why you act the way you do– she might not like it or agree with it, but she does understand. She doesn’t judge you, but she also lets you know how much you’ve hurt Leah…and that was never your intention.
She won’t even look at you. So now you find that you're one with your gaze fixated on her, and begging for just a glance in your direction. For the past three days you’ve studied her from the sidelines. She hasn’t smiled once since your arrival back, not even a crack of a grin. Her face has stayed stuck in a frown and twisted up in vexation. It feels like a fifty pound weight sitting on your chest, and you aren’t sure how to fix it. You know you have to apologize and explain everything to her, but you haven’t even accepted it yourself. How can you explain something you refuse to process?
“You want to stop for a coffee? I know you didn’t sleep much last night,” Keira snaps you out of your reeling mind. It's not that you're glad she got hurt, but she wouldn't be here if she hadn't. You know it's only till Barca gets here to play, and then she'll be back to Spain with the team. But you're still grateful for the next few days you get to spent together— even if that means you'll eventually have to face her at the game…and you know you can't do that alone.
“Uh yeah. I could use a pick me up this morning, thanks Kei.” You look at her and give a little half smile. It’s gone just as fast as it appears though, “Can we talk about something?”
“Of course, y/n. You know I'm always here for you…even when you’re being stubborn and pushing me away,” she ends it with a small laugh. “Especially then, actually.”
You start to pick at your fingers. It's an old bad habit you've picked up from when you're stressed. You find that you've lost all your confidence as your voice comes out as softer than intended, "Did you know?"
"Did I know what?" Keira's face scrunches up in genuine confusion at the question. You take a deep breath as you try to steady your heart beat and fight the constricting feeling in your throat, "About Alexia…"
The silence that ensues fills the car like a toxic gas, sucking all the air out of your lungs. You can't stop the tears from filling your waterline now, and the blurring of your vision confirms that. Suddenly the busy city life outside the window becomes your soul focus. It's not until Keira pulls into the parking lot of the cafe that you realize your lungs are burning from their lack of fresh air. "Hey— breathe! Breathe, y/n. It's okay, you're okay," She's throwing her seat belt off and turning you towards her in no time. "That's it. Take a deep breath, there you go."
She's got one hand on your shoulder and the other one locked inside your grip. She lets you squeeze it as hard as you need, anything to get you to ground yourself. After a few guided breaths you can blink the blurriness from your vision. It takes a few more to calm you down enough to speak. The midfielder feels her heart break a little from the pure brokenness of your next words, "Did you know, Keira?"
"So that's who you were seeing, huh?" Keira finds herself being the one to take a deep breath before she grabs both of your hands in hers. "Why didn't you just tell me, y/n?"
"Because I knew you would've told me it was a bad idea," a single tear ran down your face as your voice cracks, "and I didn't want you to be right."
Keira wipes the tear from your cheek before she pulls you into a hug. "Oh darling, come here."
You let your pent up sorrows finally leak out of you, and Keira is there to hold you together as you do. You stay like that for a few minutes until your loud sobs turn into sniffles. Just as she thinks you might've fallen asleep in her arms, she hears your horse voice start speaking again. "Everyone could tell she wasn't over Jenni, but I let my heart get in the way. She told me from the start it was casual, but it didn't feel that way. Especially not near the end. Just friends didn't do the things that we did or said, but she couldn't admit that…" A disgruntled sigh leaves your lips, "Or maybe I just couldn't accept that I was a placeholder to her. I saw the world in her, but she saw me as reminder of who she lost…who she really wanted beside her. I think I always knew that deep down, but I uh..I thought she could learn to love me overtime I guess. It's not her fault. I played myself, and I couldn't handle the fallout…so I pushed you away, and I ran out like a coward because I was too embarrassed to face the judgment from everyone else. I'll never be able to apologize enough for that."
A new wave of tears start rising up to your eyes, "And I never meant to hurt Leah in all this. I know you've been here for me, but she's your best friend. I know you probably want to smack me a few good times, and you totally can! I just want to fix things with her, but I don't know how. I'm not ready for a relationship yet— not by any means…but I miss her, Kei. I miss being her friend."
"Well, I can promise that she misses you, too. Step one to getting Leah to accept an apology is getting her a gift, then follow that up with some ass kissing, and after you've completed those steps we'll discuss the next ones." You can tell there's something she's holding back. It's written all over have face.
"Out with it, Walsh! Be mean if you have to— I told you that you can hit me," Keira can't help but roll her eyes with your dramatics.
"Good God— I'm not going to hit you, y/n!" She lets an exasperated breath slip out of frustration. "I just don't think there's ever been a time when you and Leah have been just friends." You go to cut her off, but she presses a finger to your lips— silencing you like a mother does her child. "Deny it all you want, but I know the truth. I never suspected you and Alexia from a mile away, but you and Leah? You can't fake that kind of connection, and you can't let it get away from you either. So stop letting yourself sabotage it like a complete wazzock! Both of you are so stubborn and stuck in your own ways! It's bloody maddening! We are going inside this cafe to get us some coffee, and you will get Leah's tea order for her. She'll probably still be a jerk even after you give it to her, but that's when you start the ass kissing part of the plan. Got it?"
She finally allows you to speak as she pulls her hand back,"Got it, Mum."
Keira lets out a defeated sigh as you guys exit her car. You can't be serious just this once, can you? Nope. Always have to deflect with humor when you're faced with the truth. At this point she just hopes you two can make up so she can get some sleep. Leah talks nonstop about you every. single. night. It's impacting her sanity at this point. She NEEDS you to beg Leah for forgiveness or she just might snap. She doesn't even need you two to start dating…just make the fuck up. This is just as much for herself as it is for you. A mutually beneficial plan.
"Have a nice day and good luck with Leah!" Keira calls out the window.
You laugh before turning your head around, "Thanks Mum, I'll make sure to stick to the plan!" And then you're off to head into the building. Thank god Keira picked you up so early, because it looks like only one other car is here…and that just so happens to be the blonde defender's Audi.
The beating of your heart accelerates with every step you take, and it rises till it drowns out your hearing. Just a steady thump. thump. thump. thumping that has you worried you might pass out. You're trying to think of what to say to her, but your mind is completely blanking. As you see the door of the changing room you are 85% sure you might throw up as soon as you see her. So you take a few seconds to calm yourself down, remembering Keira's words as you close your eyes and take deep breaths like earlier. When you reopen them you bite the bullet and walk in, and for the first time in a week…she looks at you.
It feels like your heart stops in your chest, and the words on your tongue suddenly get trapped inside your throat. Your eyes search hers, and then your mouth is moving before your brain can catch up. "You look like you haven't been getting much sleep."
She doesn't scoff or turn away like you expect. Her eyes just soften a bit as she speaks, "I can say the same for you, y/l/n."
Ouch. Still on a last name basis? To be fair you haven't even gotten to step one of the plan yet, so let's allow room for some grace.
"I got you a tea!" You blurt it out like an idiot, jutting your hand out towards her with a blush dusting across your cheeks.
"You sure it's not for Russo? I mean, we're both blonde and apparently just your typ—" you cut her off with a kiss.
She freezes at first, and that makes you panic. You go to pull away as you start apologizing, "I-I'm sorry, Le—" but it's her that cuts you off this time. She kisses you with more force behind it, her hands searching out for your middle. But they stop just as she's about to touch you, hovering her hands as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. "Do you think you deserve for me to touch you?"
You can feel the heat radiating off of her body. A frown etches its way onto your face as you bite your lip, "No…but I can earn it."
Leah takes the cup from your hand as she sets it on the bench behind her, quickly turning her attention back to you. She decides to take a seat on the opposite end, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she does. "Come here," she licks her lips after she says it. You walk in front of her, leaving some space until she tells you what to do next. That must be the wrong move though, because then she's reaching out and pulling you to stand between her thighs. "Now get on your knees."
You swallow the lump in your throat as you follow her instructions, setting your knees on the cold floor as you stare up at her. She lets one of her hands rest on your cheek, "Open your mouth, y/l/n."
When you follow her orders, she shoves her index & middle fingers into your mouth. I mean Keira did say you'd have to kiss ass, and if this is what she meant? Oh you'd do it all day long. You gag at first, tears gathering as you try and relax your throat around her digits. She doesn't let you get used to the feeling, removing them after about 30 seconds. You don't expect what she does next though. Leah slides her own hand down her shorts, using your spit as lube for herself. She bites her lip as she starts rubbing circles into her clit, watching you squirm as the reality of the situation starts to settle in. You stay locked in a state of shock until she slips her fingers inside her pussy, moaning out a mix of curses and your name. You start to lay kisses on her inner thighs, but you're quickly stopped by her free hand gripping your hair. "You touch me again without permission, and I'll leave you here like this. Wet, untouched, and unsatisfied. So sit there and watch like a good girl. Prove to me how sorry you are."
"Yes ma'am," the grip on your hair gets tighter, and a small smirk flashes across your face from the action.You make sure to stay on your best behavior after that. Even going as far to sit your hands on top of your thighs so you aren't tempted to disobey. She looks absolutely stunning like this. Her chest starts to heave up and down as her fingers speed up inside her shorts, and her sounds of pleasure echo off the walls around you. "Take your shorts off," she says it breathlessly.
You hesitate a little, head snapping over to the door as your fingers linger on your waistband. "I won't ask you again, y/n." You look back at Leah,"Take. Your. Shorts. Off." She exaggerates with a tug to your scalp after every word, sending jolts of electricity flying through your body. Your hands finally start shoving the useless piece of fabric down your hips and you let them pool around your ankles. "Nuh uh— all the way off," Leah rasps out above you.
Your cheeks turn a dark shade of red as you kick them off and wait for her further instructions. Your heart is speeding back up now, endless possibles about what's to come flashing through your mind. "Spread your legs," she moans unexpectedly at the sight. The wet spot on your cotton panties is what gets to her first, but soon enough she's groaning out at the little pretty pink bow that rests at the top of them. You always know just how to get her going, and wearing those? Bold choice. Truth be told you left your flat with a purpose this morning. Leah was going to see you wearing these one way or another. If she wouldn't forgive you here, then you were more than ready to send her a desperate video of you trying to get off in them later tonight.
You forgot about her hand in your hair until you're being yanked forward. "Who the fuck are you wearing these for, huh?"
You can't help the smile that slides onto your lips, "You didn't really think I only showed up with one gift to apologize, did you?"
The look in her eyes is almost unreadable, but you can recognize hunger buried somewhere in her intense gaze. "Slide 'em to the side and start riding your fingers for me," and it isn't a suggestion. The demand radiating off of her voice is what coaxes you to comply so fast. You readjust yourself to sit back on your knees, but this time your legs are spread out enough to give her a show. You let one of your hands run down your body, moving the soaked piece of cotton to the side. You're so wet that Leah can see your pussy glistening from the way it reflects off the lights. She bites her lip as a loud moan escapes her, muffling it a bit as her hips start to grind into her thrusts. "Don't be shy— ride em just like you did before," she says it with a knowing smile flashing across her lips.
You somehow blush even harder, the memory invading your mind as you look away from the girl in front of you. She'd had you like this only one time before— in Ibiza. It was on the fourth night, Leah had thought you were flirting with the waitress. So she'd made you ride your fingers and a dildo on the floor in front of the bed. She had been perched on top of the sheets with a wand vibrator attached to her clit, and an endless amount of orgasms. She of course had denied you the whole time, only granting your throbbing pussy to cum with her tongue buried inside of you.
It's only when you snap out of your foggy haze that you sink down onto your fingers. She gives a soft tug on your roots this time, instructing your eyes back towards her. "You look away one more time and I'll leave you tied up like this for the whole team to find. All pretty and dressed in some frilly little underwear— all for your Captain," you can't tell if she's just teasing you or not…but is it bad that it kind of turns you on just as much as it terrifies you?
You take that as a sign to start riding your fingers faster, and the sweet sounds of your pleasure mixing together fills up the room. Leah's thighs are shaking at this point, her eyes locked onto the sparkling of wetness covering your fingers and running down your wrist. It's mesmerizing to her. The way your body literally leaks for her, crying out for her touch in a beautifully messy way. Leah curls her fingers just right, a wave of heat crashing inside of her stomach. It's all becoming too much for her. It's been a whole week of her trying to ice you out, and make you feel a little bit of the pain you caused her. Is that healthy? No. Do either of you really care? Not even a smidge.
'M'sorry! I'll be good, Le. I promise," you moan it out as your cunt clenches down on your own fingers. You keep your eyes trained on hers, and the telltale signs of her orgasm are present on her face. "I wish it was your fingers inside me instead. Yours are so much longer and thicker," her pace starts to get erratic as you keep speaking. "I can't stretch my pussy like you can— no one can." And that's all it takes for her back to cum and the sexiest groans to tumble from her lips. She tugs on your hair so hard it keeps you locked into place. So close, yet you can't see anything. This is like torture. But still, the sight has a new gush of wetness leaking out of your cunt and dripping onto the floor below you. Leah fucks herself through the aftershocks of her orgasm, letting her breathing return to a normal rate as she keeps watching your movements.
She licks her lips before she speaks again, "If you can make yourself cum like that, then I'll fuck you before the girls get here."
"B-but I can't! I need you to do it for me," it comes out as a pouty whine. The burning in your legs isn't even that bad, but you just want her to touch you already.
She laughs before releasing your hair as she stands up, going back to changing. "Then I guess we're done here. If you can't prove how sorry you are," she bends down as she slides her shirt off. A hand comes up to pinch your cheeks together and bring your face closer to hers, "Then you don't deserve to cum at all," her grip tightens as she speaks, "So take your fingers out and get dressed, or shut up and give me a show."
You whimper out at the aggressiveness in her tone. There is no way you are backing down now. You are determined to earn her forgiveness, even if it means your legs will feel like jello for two days afterwards. So you bite your lip as you start grinding down onto your wrist, sinking your fingers deeper as you use more of your body weight to drop down onto the thrusts. Leah must take some pity on you, because after a while she starts rubbing your nipples through your shirt. It's the added stimulation you didn't know you needed.
Within seconds you're leaking even more sweet noises from your mouth, a newfound energy cursing through your veins as you chase after your own orgasm. "Good girl, darling."
It's those three words from Leah that sends you over the edge, your legs shaking as they give out underneath you. She can't still be thaaat mad if she's dropped the last name only rule. She catches you as you fall forward, helping you regain your balance as you stand back up fully. She lets you lean against her as you regather your bearings. One of her hands comes up to rub soft patterns into your back. The comfortable silence doesn't last long though, "I hope you know I'm still mad you missed our date on Thursday,"
"Oh my god!" You shove her away with a playful smile on your lips, " It was not a date, Leah! See this is exactly how we ended—" she cuts you off with a kiss once again. Silencing any and all complaints you may of had on your tongue. She's the first to pull away, but she barely moves back. You can still feel her breath dancing across your lips as yours catches in your throat. "You might not be my girlfriend, but you're still mine." She backs you up until she's guiding you into the showers, a blur of hands stripping you both with every step you take. Her hands run across your naked abdomen as she cages you onto the shower wall. "Mine to touch, mine to kiss, and mine to fuck." One of her hands moves to turn the water on, and she makes sure it doesn't touch you at first. You are the words biggest baby when it comes to water temperature. If it's not hot enough to boil you alive, then you'll whine and cry about how it's 'too cold'.
A mischievous look crosses your features just as Leah brings her face back down close to yours. "Then prove it," you use her words back against her. That causes her to smash her lips to yours, her nails digging into your hips as she pulls you closer against her body. The kiss is brutal; full of tongue and teeth as she gropes the most sensitive parts of your body. You get so lost in the feeling of her lips that you swear the rest of the world drowns out. You let out a yelp of surprise when she flips you around all of a sudden. The cold tiles pressing against your nipples has a shiver running through your body, even more slick collecting between your thighs. Leah presses some kisses to the back of your shoulder, leaving little bites every time she pulls away to give you a new one.
One of her hands slides down from the back of your neck all the way down to your ass, and she lands a heavy slap there. It causes you to jolt against the wall, your face squishing as you do so. She rubs softy to soothe the skin after, "Did you touch yourself?"
"No ma'am," you answer her truthfully. And before you can process it, she's landing another spank onto your other cheek. The loud smack getting muffled by the water.
"Does she make you cum like I do?" You crane your neck to look at her, confusion settling into your features. There's a feral look overtaking hers. She doesn't even give you time to respond before she's slapping your ass again.
You jolt once more, a small moan slipping past your lips from the impact. "W-what? Who are you even talking about, Le?"
"Oh," Leah scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me, y/n." Another spank is landed upon your ass. "Did you let Russo touch you?"
You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth in that moment, and you also can't help but to tease her as well. "And what if I did?"
Next thing you know your face is being smushed into the tiled wall in front of you. One of her hands is keeping you pinned there while the other slides down to your ass again. She leaves two more slaps— one for each cheek. And then her hand disappears in between your legs. Leah rubs them through your folds a few times before she slips two of her fingers inside you. You gasp out at the feeling, arching your back as she starts a rough pace from the start. "Then I'll just have to remind you who you belong to, darling." She bites your earlobe as she says it, pulling it with her as she lets her lips fall back down to your neck.
You moan out at her words, your pussy clenching around her fingers. "I can feel her sucking me in, baby. Like she's begging for me to ruin her." And you know she isn't talking to you. Oh no. She's talking to your cunt.
She picks her pace up now, your ass jiggling every time her wrist connects with it. She's thrusting her fingers in all the right places, curling them at just the right time, and most of all…They fill you up so fucking good. No one knows how to use their fingers better than Leah. She mastered the art of finger fucking like her life depends on it. A skill nonetheless— and one that you very much appreciate.
"Who's the only person who can fuck you this good?"
"You!"
She pulls out and lands a spank to your ass before running her fingers through your folds, avoiding your sensitive clit at all costs.
 Her voice comes out a little rougher than before, "What's my fucking name?"
"Leah!" You chant it like it's a prayer. Her name the only thing slipping from your lips as she shoves her fingers back inside you, adding a third one to the mix. It has your mind spinning and your thighs drenching from the debauchery taking place. She's turning your brain off with the pleasure, her hand on your back sliding around your front as she starts rubbing at your clit. Her breasts press against your back now, the new angle awarding you both with a sudden wave of pleasure flashing through you. Your legs start to shake and just as you're about to cum….she's pulling out. Your eyes immediately fill with tears and your mouth drops open to beg her for forgiveness. Hell you can stand the silent treatment, but you can't handle this. Orgasm denial should be classified as a type of torture when it's coming from Leah.
"Don't be a brat!" She chastises you as she turns you around, a hand coming up to brush some hair from your face. "I just wanna be looking at your face when I finally make you cum. Too beautiful to not fuck you from the front."
Your hands come up and land a light slap to her shoulder, a blush crossing your cheeks from her boldness. "Leah!"
she smirks at you as she leads you under the now hot water, her hands searching across your body as her lips find your nipples. You arch into her mouth, your hands tangling into her hair as you let the water add to the sensations. It just fuels the fire already roaring in your belly, burning and screaming to be let out. "Please Le! Lemme prove how much I've missed you," you take her hand into yours. Leading it down to your pussy, "How much we've both missed you."
She doesn't waste time— smashing your lips together as she slides the same three fingers back inside of you. It's like her body is made for yours and vice versa. The perfect puzzle pieces that always match up. She takes one of her legs and spreads yours a little more, causing them to shake once again as her pace increases. You start to wobble a little bit, but Leah's quick to wrap her empty hand around your middle to keep you upright. "I've gotcha, love. Just stand there and take it like a good girl."
You nod your head as best as you can, words all but lost to you in this state. It ends with you biting your lip trying to keep your sounds to a minimum. Even if the girls aren't here yet, you're sure some of the staff is here by this point…and you really don't need them to know what you sound like when you cum. These thoughts must be evading Leah though, because she's growling at you when she notices. "Let me fucking hear you," the fingers on your clit return now. Adding much needed stimulation to your poor neglected bundle of nerves. It doesn't take long for that knot in your stomach to build back up again. You can't help the way your eyes close this time, praying she doesn't stop because of it. But you always get a little disoriented when you haven't cum in a while, plus Leah's a little distracted by something else right now.
"Oh look, babe. We've got an audience," you can hear Leah's smirk as she says it.
Your eyes snap right back open at the words, scanning your surroundings as your hazy mind tries to make sense of this situation. It couldn't have been worse timing though…because you squirt all over Leah's hands just as you lock eyes with a shell shocked Alessia. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as high pitched whines ring throughout the air. Leah just fucks you through your orgasm, little spurts of liquid dripping down her wrist still. And Alessia is getting a front row view to all of this….
Oh. Fuck.
259 notes · View notes
tetsumie · 5 months ago
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Love your writings so so much!!! Pretty please can i ask for angsty to fluff sunarin to heal my broken heart
𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈���𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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pairing: suna rintaro x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
content: suna's been playing the argument the both of you had on repeat in his head and he decides it's time that he proves to you that he wants to make this work
a/n: hi bby <3 ofc i can write angsty/fluffy sunarin i hope u like it and this could meet your expectations! i hope that this helps mend your broken heart love u always and if you ever need anything i'm always here to talk <3
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suna is staring at the ceiling in his apartment.
his vision shifts towards the bright red numbers "3:07" glaring at him menacingly.
he shifts his body to turn away from the clock as he coddles a pillow next to him, holding it as if it's the most precious thing he has.
i destroyed the most precious thing in my life. the overthinking demons begin to plague his conscience.
he wonders what you're doing right now. he hopes that you're asleep but he knows you're probably cramming last minute for that midterm you have for your class tomorrow.
he sighs.
he opens his phone and presses your contact, thumb hovering over the call button.
he just wants to hear your voice. at least once.
ah, fuck it.
his finger presses the call button and it begins to ring. and ring. and ring. and ring. and ring.
he's beginning to lose hope as the ring continues to go on until he hears his favorite sound in the world.
"rin?"
rin.
"hello? rin?"
he clears his throat, realizing he's just been lying there, not speaking a word.
"hi baby."
"what's wrong? why are you up? don't you have pract-" you start questioning him.
"don't worry about it hun. it's all good," he sighs into the phone. "just wanted to hear your voice right now."
you hum in response.
the hurtful words he said to you a couple nights ago are playing on loop in his mind and he's unsure of what to say now.
"did you need something rin?" you begin. "you don't usually call me.. voluntarily."
he knows he doesn't. he's always been the nonchalant one in the relationship, always waiting for you to make the first move. you've always been the one to suggest going out or planning a night in. he became so used to you always being there. he never thought you wouldn't be there anymore.
you were never supposed to get out of the picture.
"i really miss you."
you're silent.
"i know you don't believe me but i really miss you."
suna knows you're having a tough time believing him. every time you would try to bring up how you wish he'd put in just a bit more effort, he always brushed it off. but when you had brought up again for the nth time a couple days ago, asking if he could at least plan something for just the two of you, he gave out on you.
"i don't have the time for this shit. i have a professional career i'm working towards and i don't have the extra time to get distracted."
he remembers the words like they were written on the back of his hand. god, he can't forget the way your beautiful features etched into a look of pure heartbreak.
god, he can't that look out of his head.
but the worst thing plaguing his mind was your response.
"rin, i just want you to act like you at least care about me. i feel like you don't care about us anymore."
god, if he could express into words how much he deeply cares for you, your relationship, and everything that has to do with you. he wants you wholeheartedly but he can't seem to express that properly.
"right," your voice is curt. sharp. it cuts like a blade into him.
he gulps.
you're hurting and he can feel it from miles away.
and the silent treatment that you've been giving one another has not been helping to heal that pain ever since that horrid dispute.
"i realized how shitty of a boyfriend i've been to you."
you're silent, waiting for him to continue.
"you wanted me to reciprocate the time and effort you put into making this relationship work and i didn't do that. it was the least i could have done; you're right."
"rin i-" he interrupts you.
he's sitting up now in his bed, staring out the window of his bedroom.
"no, wait please let me finish."
you're silent and he takes it as his cue.
"the fact that you felt like i never cared about you — about us — this entire time truly shows how much of a shitty person i've been to you and to our relationship. i'm supposed to be the one there for you yet i never was. your absence in my life for the past couple days has affected me in ways that i don't even know could be possible"
he continues although he hears what could've been a sniffle.
"i don't know how else to put it into words but i miss you so bad, y/n. you don't have to forgive me — i wouldn't blame you — but i just want you to know that if you don't want to do this anymore with me, i understand. i'll love you no matter what your decision is."
"you love me?" your voice comes to life on the other end of the line completely caught off guard.
oh my god.
he smiles to himself as he stares at the vast dark room in front of him. "yes i love you. i always have."
"from the moment you walked into the sports psychology lecture late to the time you spilled coffee all over my brand new jersey to the time you had your sickly chicken pox. i've loved you ever since and i won't let you go."
you're silently digesting the information that he threw at you all in one sitting.
it's dead silent and suna is nervous. he wants to know what you're thinking, how you look like right now, how you're feeling.
he really wants to see you right now. to be there with you right now.
the overthinking demons begin to make their entrance in his mind as he begins to speak. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done this over the phone. i should've done this in person. i'm just too nervous to even say a word because what i want to say gets lost and then-"
"rin," you stop him before he can continue his ramble.
"yes?"
"i love you too."
oh my god.
his heart is beating out of his chest and he's stuck. his mouth is slightly agape, stunned by your confession. after everything he's done with you, you still love him?
"are you sure?" he asks to confirm.
"why are you literally trying to deny my confession to you right now?" you give a watery chuckle which he can instantly hear through.
"i don't deserve you," he states and he feels his eyes water a little bit.
"yeah you don't," you laugh in hopes of lightening the mood but the laugh dies down in your throat.
a comfortable silence holds between the two of you.
"i'm sorry for keeping you up so late. please get some rest-" he begins but is this time interrupted by you.
"can you come over?" your small voice interrupts. "obviously if it's not a bother... i just want to, um, see you right now. if that's okay."
his heart beats faster.
"are you sure?"
"yes please," you sound so frail. "please come over rin. i really need you right now."
"i'm there, baby."
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bonefall · 2 days ago
Text
I'm trying to sleep but suddenly got plagued by a vision for a cool WC ceremony idea and had to write it down
What if a new leader, before or after getting their 9 lives, had to undergo a sort of ritualistic "cleansing" by being "anointed" by holy "stardust?" The dust in question being tied to the way the previous leader lost their final life;
Fire = Anointment by ash
Sickness = Anointment by pollen
Murder = Anointment by blood
Drowning = Anointment by water
Etc
Something about needing to "wash" the new set of lives, so they can shine unmarred by the misfortune of the previous star. Could also get combined with the funeral for the old leader-- maybe as a sort of Clanwide blessing before the deputy goes to get their lives.
Perhaps even turning into an annual celebration for that particular leader, used to remind the other Clans that they've ruled for another full turn of the seasons. A way to flex their Clan's support and their shared achievements.
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dumbbitchgalore · 7 months ago
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Old man!Price wants his birdie to fly away 🕊
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Moans and groans are emitted from the confines of your shared bedroom.
A room reserved for love, loyalty and lust between the two souls once again entrap all emotions of togetherness. A sense of closeness between two entities that one would have though to be impossible.
The neatness of the space now poisoned with the frangrance of sex and passion with not so much of an ounce of adoration to be found in the crevaces of the place. Clothes hastely thrown on the floor without much care, the bedsheets wrinkled losing it's prefectness.
She laid there sprawled across the mattress, her hair tousled, her lipstick smudged as its once pristine application now mirror onto John's face.
Salacious touches exhanged, their voice brittle and breathy. Contaminating the serenity of the grand vacinity, their vile performance manifesting within every perimetre.
John looks into her eyes, searching for a semblance of his little birdie within them. However, all he found was an amorous desire spilling out of her spirit for him, a momentary pleasure. He knew this well, the reason why he chose her to warm his bed. His face scrunches up with lust, release and condemnation.
She warmed his bed too well, the cotton beneath them felt like the scorching vehemence of hell donning on the pair. Despite such sentiments, his pace never faltered. Ramming into her like the bastard that he was, in heat and with a simple thought in his mind; he needed to finish this before the affects of his viagra came to an end.
His momento hastened as he goal was in sight. Littering her jaw with short, fleeting kisses, he buries his face between her breasts. Her greddy heart thundering against her ribs at it echoed against John's ear.
With one last thrust, his nympholepsy came undone as the familiar feeling returns once again. He pulls himself out of her and rests next to the woman before taking off his condom and throwing it to the side neglectfully.
In these moments, his mind would finally come to a close. The loudness of his counscious dying down dilatorily but today, his mind was very much so talkative. Without taking a single breath, it spoke and spoke and spoke, its heart not being content with the words it said.
The woman next to him smiles softly reaching out to caress his cheek.
"Damn, did you really take viagra?" She questions, unable to understand why someone who exudes the opulance of virility needed such a drug.
He grunts in response, affirming her inquiry and simply closes his eyes trying to tune out the voices that plague his being.
On the other side of the room, footsteps are heard approching near but John does not make fuss to hide his undignified state. Rather, he allows for the the hinges of the door to creak open.
Her eyes widen at the scene in front of her. Is the truly reality or did her vision betray her?
She steps into the desolate sleeping quarters, taking in the pungent smell of adultery that she thought was impossible to conjure. Tear well, blurring her sight as she tries to convince herself that what she is seeing is untrue.
John simply stares at the intruder before sighing heavily and laying back down into the bed.
"Can't you see I'm busy here, Birdie? Why don't you come back later when my friend here is gone, hm?" He says without an ounce of regret visible, as his heart tore to pieces.
Surely this will at last make her leave and find someone better than him, yes?
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