#sorry you don't get the comfort part of the hurt/comfort where everyone gives him a hug
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jewelielie-art · 1 month ago
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Part 1 (here) | Part 2 (x)
I can't take credit for this. This is because @biblicallyaccuratecrow and their post that possessed me. I blacked out and suddenly this appeared on my tablet.
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suiana · 1 month ago
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yandere! cheater and gn! reader who's in their villain arc...
you've suspected that something was up when your boyfriend started to get busy with his work, coming home late, hiding his phone from you...
of course you just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that he really was just stressed from his work. he was yourboyfriend after all. you had to trust him, didn't you?
well everything was shattered when you found one of his side chicks under your shared bed. she was naked, only wearing a pair of undies while holding in her pee.
"wtf why are you hiding under here?"
"your bf doesn't want u to know that he's cheating. told me that he'd kill me if i came out."
yeah, so the girl was an asshole to get with your man when she knew that he was in a relationship but at least she told it to your face straight up. also she pissed herself while getting out from the bed so there's that.
meanwhile, your boyfriend was sobbing and crying when he came home. you had found out of his side affairs, a side he never wanted you to find out about. to be honest, your boyfriend didn't know why he he got with others in the first place. he had everything he could ever want in you. you made him feel alive, all the good things you know. being with you was like a dream come true and he constantly felt like tearing out his skin from how happy you made him.
you were his god.
oh, yeah, thinking about it now that's probably it. he felt that you were too good for him and didn't want to taint you. which... was why he resorted to sleeping with others.
shitty move, yeah he knows. don't need to repeat it.
but you... why were you so forgiving? you welcomed him back with open arms, sobbed a little and told him how hurt you were! he thought you'd have up and left by now!
but you didn't.
he knew you were too good for him, he had to treat you better now. he just had to, this was obviously you giving him a second chance, right? oh he just loves you so much!
unfortunately for him, it wasn't a second chance. no, you were about to absolutely ruin this man.
it started with the small things. small rumours about him ranging from how he had a small dick to how he's a pushover... you needed to start your plan slow, you know. tear his reputation of a good and sensible man bit by bit. gotta build up that tension teehee >w<
then from the rumours, you started manipulating the people close to him. crocodile tears, white lies, and a whole pity party for yourself... telling his friends and family members how your boyfriend was an absolute shit of a boyfriend, how he didn't treat you right and how he was the worst an alive... well, it wasn't much of a lie. he did spoil you and treat you like a deity but if he really treasured you why would he cheat in the first place? there's no space left in your life to pity him.
the most important part was to constantly reassure him that you loved him and to make sure that he never finds out that you were the one ruining his life from behind the scenes. can't let him find out that his angel lover is the one that's bringing him to social death now!
by this stage, your boyfriend was completely dependent on you. everyone around him was looking at him like he was the absolute scum of the earth. where did the rumours come from? why was everyone avoiding him? he couldn't even go to work without his coworkers side-eyeing him like he grew an extra head! he's just lucky he didn't get fired-
oh and what do you know. he got fired.
he comes home crying, an absolute mess and a shell of the man that he used to be. what was once a confident and charming man is now a desperate and pathetic boyfailure.
"baby i got fired, i'm so sorry. i don't deserve to be with you."
his arms wrap aorund your legs, tears staining your pants as he seeks comfort from the only person still left by his side. yes, you're the only person left dying for. even his own parents desserted him, yet you stayed. he's so thankful-
"yeah, you're right. you don't deserve me."
it's like time stops the second the words fall from your lips. he slowly looks up at you, eyes widening in horror as his tears dry up. what? was he growing delusional? he must've heard you wrong. no way his beloved god just said that!
"haha... you're so sweet baby. joking around in a time like this-"
"i'm not joking. you don't deserve someone like me."
you slap his hands away, looking down at him as he remains on his knees on the floor. you had a smug smile, expression all cocky as you even started to laugh.
"haha! did you really think i wanted to stay with you? fuck no! i have standards okay? i really didn't want to stay with a cheater!"
your boyfriend didn't know what to think. what were you saying? he doesn't understand. is this a late april fools prank? the way his heart was clenching and the way he felt his face paled shows just how much he doesn't like your words.
"babe stop-"
"i hate you god damnit. i really thought you'd be the one for me but no! you just had to go ahead and cheat!"
but you didn't listen to him.
"let's break up."
oh yeah, you hear that? that's the sound of his heart shattering.
he quickly crawls over to you, face pale as he grips onto your pants tightly. his hands shook with each word he uttered, tone desperate as tears streamed down his cheeks once more.
he never thought he'd start begging for someone to stay when it was usually the opposite but... you were his god. the one he's devoted his entire life too.
so he'll gladly get on his hands and knees for you if he has too. you can't leave him. he doesn't want to be alone.
"please! forgive me! i know i did something wrong but i'm trying! you can't leave me too!"
he looks up at you, face completely flushed as he continues to turn himself into an even bigger pathetic mess. he doesn't care what he looks like now. he's practically lost everything. he has nothing left to lose.
"i promise i'll be better! i haven't cheated since you found out last time! d-doesn't that count for something?"
he gives you a shaky smile, as though that would convince you.
it wasn't.
in response to his words, you could only give a disgusted expression, kicking him away before walking past him to the front door. what a pathetic man he was.
"you know, you look best when you're like this."
you state, glancing at him with a smile before turning to leave his house. well, there's that. your plan was complete and your now-ex boyfriend was absolutely destroyed.
so why did it feel like... something bad was about to happen?
you quickly look back at him, keeping your cool and remaining nonchalant before you feel the blood drain from your face. your best friend?! where did they come from?! and the fact that your crazy ex was holding a knife to their neck-
"no... don't leave me... you can't leave... i have no one else but you..."
what were you supposed to do now that he was holding your best friend hostage?
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
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Joel was never that into gambling. 
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 
Liam folds. 
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 
“Fuck you, Miller.” 
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 
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“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 
“You should’ve thought of that before.” 
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 
“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 
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You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 
And it seemed like you were no exception. 
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 
“God, yes.” 
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 
You sink to your knees immediately after that. 
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 
“Get on with it then.” 
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 
“Is this pussy mine?” 
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 
“I think he left, sweetheart.” 
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 
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timkontheunsure · 7 days ago
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What Blitz regrets
Interestingly most of Blitz's memories are more accurate with people's expressions than Stolas' in all 2 u.
Here's how he remembers the fire.
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He see the imp lady and Cash bookit passed him. Then the pink horse cuts across him.
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Then him seeing Fizz and trying to direct help to him.
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Next is him trying to get to his Muma
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Then we get the aftermath of the fire. (Screaming face made of flame).
Cash grabbing Blitz by his freshly buried wrist to hold him in place to hit him. Immediately blaming him for an accident. His mom just died and his dad did this.
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Then blocking access to Fizz, shoving Blitz away. Before lying that he never visited, and that Blitz deliberately set the fire, isolating and scapegoating Blitz.
Moving on to Ozzie's which is large part of his film of his regrets and envys.
Fizz hating him on sight.
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And Verosika too.
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oh but he missed Stolas getting up to try to defend him from her.
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Blitz also focuses on his putting his hand away from Stolas trying to comfort him
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Though you can see Stolas miss reads his expression right before. When Ozzie showed his daughter hating him, and had people side with his abuser because she was 'cheated on'.
Stolas being sad when the only thing they have is Stolas wanting to fuck him.
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They are both forced on this bit. That they don't have a relationship where they talk and cuddle, because it wasn't a real date. He made sure of that.
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(never say never Mr too much Imp to simp)
Stolas giving him the crystal and asking him to stay. Definitely shows the crystal is huge sore point for him.
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Stolas was more focused on how surprised Blitz was.
Stolas walking away from him as Blitz yells that he'll apologise to everyone else. But never him. If he hadn't said the previous 'fuck you' making Stolas think he gave him a fake reason for blowing up at him, Stolas would have understood.
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Stolas singing the line "I don't think you ment to hurt me, because I don't think it meant a thing at all to you"
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Oof that must have hurt.
"This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody". Oh he regrets not believing Stolas cared for him.
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And regrets missing his chance to comfort Stolas. (Blitz failed a QTE).
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But ok big big difference here! Blitz has definitely misunderstood. Stolas' isn't crying.
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He's edited out what a mess Stolas was here. Like he's forgotten how drunk he was..
And Stolas kissing the twunk is a perfect match... Oh that got seared into his brain didn't it.
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Pure envy
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Blitz so badly want that kind of romantic relationship
Barbie telling him he's ruined her life, and she never wants to see him again. (Just going to sob in a corner here).
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And Loona. Both times are fights about being really family.
Loona: Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!
Blitzo: It still counts!
Loona: Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now
Blitz needs to be needed by the people he loves. Otherwise he thinks they're leave him
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Blitzo: Oh, Loona, my sweet baby girl! I'm so sorry, I'll never replace you no matter what you--
Looks like he still worried that she hasn't really forgiven him for saying he's replace her.
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Blitz isn't just talking about Stolas here. He thinks if he's bankrupted IMP Milli, Moxxie and Loona will all leave him too. Spirals to rock bottom in this one.
So glad Millie could help pull him out.
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tragedybunny · 1 year ago
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My Starry Sky - Astarion x F!Reader
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Reader and Astarion have their first real argument and have to go through the aftermath.
“Come to bed early, spend some time with me?” Astarion whispered in your ear, crimson eyes still a bit watery.
There wasn’t any other answer to give. “Of course love,” you took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, desperate to reassure him after what had happened earlier.
Going into this, you knew how he could be, how he lashed out sometimes, and why. That hadn’t made the first time he directed it at you after your mutual confession any easier. Maybe you had thought finally sharing your feelings would change that part of him, a selfish wish. “Damn it, are you just going to ignore me all day!” He snapped at you on the road, drawing questioning looks from your other companions.
“What?” You’d turned back to him, confusion knitting your brows together.
“You heard me.” Around you, you could sense everyone stepping away, wisely giving the two of you space, despite the fact that you were in a desolate, cursed place. The locale was probably not helping the tension.
“I’m not ignoring you!” The first mistake you made in that conversation, a sharp tone, fire returned.
“So I’m just imagining that you’ve hardly said two words to me for hours but have been more than happy to prattle on with everyone else.” He doubled down, and you could tell he wasn’t going to hear you. “Or you're lying.”
The accusation stung, did he think so little of you? Maybe this was all a mistake. And just like that, all the worries, the struggles, and this blasted place boiled over, and you were the one who lashed out. “This isn’t going to work, we’re not going to work, if you’re going to act like this!” The second mistake.
Eyes going wide, his posture changed in an instant. It was like he tried to make himself smaller, to get away from the pain of your words. “Please no, I’m sorry.” His voice shook and if he had any need of breathing he would have been gasping. “Gods, I’ve already ruined it.” Tears had started to spill down his cheeks.
With horror, you realized what you’d done. You’d threatened him into compliance, even if you had done so out of hurt. Were you no better than Cazador? In a rush, you threw your arms around him pulling him close, frantic to relieve the hurt you’d caused. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” After a second of hesitation, you felt his arms encircle you as he sniffled into your hair. "That was wrong of me."
It took a few moments of soft whispers and soothing until he would let you go. "Let's just forget this," you prompted and he readily agreed.
The hurtful words and accusations stuck with you though and you excused yourself as soon as dinner was over. Taking you by the hand, Astarion leads you to his tent, where you'd been sleeping most nights lately. With a soft gasp, you note small enchanted motes of light, dancing at the top of the tent. "Gale's work," you ask, staring at them with enchantment.
"I don't want to know what he's going to ask me in return," he chuckles but it’s strained and struggling.
“At least he’s not looking for magic to eat anymore.” With a quick brush of your lips against his cheek, you lower yourself down to the waiting nest of blankets the two of you spend your nights wrapped around each other in. Your hand still in his pulls him along with you.
An open bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting and you readily take one after he pours it. The two of you sit close enough that shoulders and thighs touch, a small comfort after the harshness of the day, and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that right?” Desperately, you want him to know it, even with all the complications, you sincerely love him.
“I know,” he finishes the glass of wine, and you note that he seems off still. “I love you too,” he pours another and drinks deeply. It was a rough day all around though, and you don’t want to push it.
Moments later you’re surprised as a pale, slender hand reaches down to tilt your chin up off his shoulder and kiss you. The taste of the wine lingers on his lips and you drink in the intimacy of it on your tongue. Your glass is taken from your grasp as the kiss deepens, lips parting invitingly to him. Hands wrap around your waist and your stomach flutters, you’ve missed being touched like this by him. A trail of soft bites is traced from your lips down your neck as his hands work their way under your shirt caressing the sensitive skin of your breasts. Reaching up, you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a soft moan escapes you. “My sweet girl,” he murmurs against your throat and your blood runs cold.
That isn’t him, he sounds a thousand miles away, and so empty. “I thought you weren’t ready for this.”
A thumb brushes over a nipple and his teeth dig into your flesh just hard enough to thrill. You swallow the cry you almost make, not wanting to encourage this. “I’ve been thinking it’s time to move on, let go of the past,” his voice tremors and you can tell he’s lying even as he tries to kiss you again.
“Astarion, stop,” gently you push him away and see the panic in his face. “Why are you doing this?”
He looks anywhere but right at you, eyes hazy and unfocused “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Astarion…”
He sighs heavily, breaking down at last. “Well, I thought after today, perhaps you were tiring of me, and that I should do something to win you back. And I can’t seem to get this right either.”
Pain slices through your chest and you feel as though your heart is being torn in two. Carefully, you put your hands on his cheeks. “Look at me,” it’s not a command, but a plea, and he finally brings his eyes to yours. “I love you, and I’m not going to tire of you. Understand?” Wordlessly he nods. “But you are never to try to buy me again with your body, you are worth so much more than that.” A loving kiss on his forehead punctuates your words and you hear him sniffling again.
“I can try, it is so hard to leave behind.” Arms open, you beckon him to you, and you both collapse into the waiting blankets. “It feels like the only thing I know, the only thing I’m good for. And I just want to keep you but I don’t know how else to do it sometimes.”
“Just love me, that’s all I need.” You yearn for nothing but to cover him in soft kisses and hold him forever, so he can know how loved he is, how cherished. “My Starry Sky.”
With his face buried in your neck, he murmurs softly, sounding like his true self again, “my Sunlight.”
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months ago
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your kind of like | h. suo
✮ tags ; fem!reader, tomboy / athlete!reader, friends to lovers, third-year suo but its not super important, mutual pining, silly shoujo tropes lol, i headcanon tsubaki using she/they pronouns
✮ wc ; 2k (??????)
✮ a/n ; based on violets request for suo + my tomboy reader delusions. reader is a himbo but a girl and i love her.
also sorry if i completely butchered this guy LOOOL
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The first time Suo lays eyes on you, you're half-way up a tree - a few feet from the ground, trying to coax and old lady's cat to jump on you and come down safely.
He remembers it in great detail since it left a lasting impression. How you rolled your skirt up so it wouldn't get in your way, how your face and hands were covered in scratches - and most particularly, how you smiled the entire time. How you were loud as you clicked your tongue but soft to it once it jumped into your arms.
You had jumped onto the soles of your feet with great force but the kitty seemed calm in your arms after a while. Bright as the sun and twice as warm, you returned the cat to it's owner and then, met Suo for the first time.
You give him your name, your age, your birthday - and then ask him for the same. When he gives it to you, you clap a hand on his shoulder and tell him it's so good to meet him.
Suo does not believe in love at first sight. Koi no yokan—love at second sight, or the feeling when you meet someone that loving them is your destiny. If Suo could put a name to that feeling, it was probably that.
He was bound to love you from that very instance.
For the last two years, he's been going straight down that path with no resistance and insurmountable clarity.
It's natural for Suo to make comparatives. It's the type of person he is, the kind of fighter he sets himself up to be. Primarily a martial artists with a preference to keep calm requires strategizing.
Drawing connections comes to him as easy as breathing.
So, if he had to compare him to you, there's no end of things that make you incredibly different. Almost opposite in all ways except your decency. Compared to Suo, you are loud and brutish and strong. You're easy to read in a way that reminds him of Sakura, but denser. Your nature is tough and absurdly honest.
You don't often fight outside of your sport for one reason or another, but when you do - you prefer to tank hits instead of avoid them. Everything you feel always shows on your face.
He's never met a girl so earnest in his entire life.
He's never really met anyone like you in general.
After your first meeting, you began to get friendly with him and Bofurin in general. A student athlete in an all-girls school in the same town, you're often in the area doing odd jobs for money. You live with your brother who works in the city, and you're the youngest of your family. You're incapable of lying, even when it might benefit you and you like sweet things.
You're nice to everyone and like to chat up whoever's around, but you like Suo especially. You often ditch class to go to Furin and hang out with them and you're rarely intimidated by anyone. You're comfortable with his friends, though you seem especially fond of Nirei and Sugashita. Sakura too, though he has yet to know how to act around you even this many years later.
Your relationship is as normal as any other friendship, but maybe that's part of the problem. You treat Suo as thoughtful as you would any other friend - even when he refuses to tell you about himself. You're not hurt by the fact he's got walls up so high, and you don't hound him when he can't be straight with you.
You understand Suo as a friend and don't bother with any other details. You just.. get him. So effortlessly. And even when you don't, nothing changes.
The nature of Bofurin after all, leads Suo to fights that leave him in emotional tatters. Moments where anyone else would ask to open up, you remain steadfast. Your friendship is a lot like you, sturdy beyond his understanding
(Countless times, Suo has shown up at your door unannounced - often covered in bruises and battered. You worry and anger, but you always let him. Take care of his wounds, let him borrow your shower. Even going so far as sneaking him into your room when your brother was home, just so he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts.
He can't count how many times he's slept across from you in your bed. Dense. An honest idiot. A girl with no self-preservation who's letting a guy sleep alongside her with no care.
Suo always feels apologetic the next morning and you smile and go along like nothing happened. It might've been true in your case, but in his - he fell in love a little more each time.)
Because you're that way - Suo finds it hard to deal with his feelings. With the enormity of them, the intensity of them. You're not totally clueless - but when people talk about relationships or dating, it always seems like it has nothing to do with you.
If you were anyone else, he thinks it'd be easy to confess to you. If you had been another girl, or less of a friend.
But it's you. The bright, earnest, tough, you. He can't even bring himself to flirt with you or treat you idly despite how much he likes you. He knows better than anyone how good you are, and can't pretend to be anything less than honest about it. He adores you so utterly that it'd be pointless to even try to pretend to have the advantage.
He can be a tease. A flirt, if he wants to be. With anyone else it'd be easy. But with you, the love is so genuine it's impossible. He just wants to cherish you. Wants to shower you in affection, wants to spoil you and give you all of his time.
Friends is such a hard line in the sand. The minute Suo crosses it, there's never going to be anyway to go back to how you were before. He's been careful in being content with just friends, because he'd rather keep you in his life than not have you at all by scaring you away with his feelings.
He thinks it'll all be fine until Nirei tells him word on the block about a recent confession.
__
"A kouhai from a different team asked you out?"
Suo reaches out to wipe the grain of rice from the corner of your mouth as you eat onigiri. Your carelessness endears him but he's too distracted by the rumor to pay it any mind. You nod, swallowing with a sip of water.
"Uh-huh. Akira-kun. Dun' know his first name, but he's a good kid. Super tall for being younger, though."
Suo was sure he would never have to worry about this since you went to an all-girls school. To think you'd get a confession from a fellow student athlete, a boys member of an opposing team. He tries not to get irritated at the thought.
"Are you interested in him?"
You pause. Suo feels his heart race before you answer with a shrug and continue to eat your bento.
"Dunno the guy enough to like 'im. He seems nice. I told him as much but he said that was fine," You pick at the veggies in your bento, taking a bite out of one. "So he asked me on a date instead so we could get to know each other."
"Oh?" Suo forces himself to smile and keep his voice even. "Are you going to go?"
You nod and Suo feels his heart stop. Shit.
"Really? I'm surprised."
You hum. "Well, you know, I've never been on a date," You say, suddenly smiling. You look so genuinely happy Suo can't bring himself to be totally upset. "But, it sounds super fun! We're gonna go to a batting cage in another prefecture."
He looks at you in surprise. "A batting cage?"
"Well, he thought I'd like that more than other date ideas, but I'm not all that picky since I've never been."
"You already talked about it a lot then."
"Uh-huh. He laughed when I said I wanted to go eat meat after. Said that was just like me... somehow I don't get it, but I'm happy anyway. I hope it'll be fun."
Suo smiles his best business smile and tells himself beating the shit out of his friends kouhai for flirting with her is wrong. "Hm. Are you prepared to go on the date?"
"You sound like Tsubaki-chan," You lament. "She made me go get nice clothes and everything."
....
"She did, huh? That sounds just like her. Did Kotoha-san go too?"
"Mhm. They just picked it out for me since I'm not good with any of that. Tsubaki-chan is so beautiful so I trust her."
"Mm,"
"What's wrong?"
You're looking at him with such clear eyes it makes Suo guilty. He knows if he says nothing now, you'll drop it without question. That's just how you are. But for once he doesn't really want to drop it. It's too impulsive and entirely rash but he really...
"You know, if you wanted go on a date - I could've just taken you."
You pause then grin a little. "Dates are for people in like, you know."
Of course you would assume it was a joke. Suo pauses, suddenly looking serious.
"So, if I told you I liked you - would you consider going on a date with me?"
"Sure," You smile because you definitely still think he's joking. But it's a pretty, honest smile anyway. "But Suo-kun doesn't need to ask me for anything. We can always just go together."
He still himself as he scoots in closer to you where you sit, pushing your lunches out of the way and closing the distance to look at you closer. You blink in surprise but don't back away or flinch.
"I'm being serious you know?" He hums softly. It's less hard to say than he thought, but maybe it's because he's already been willing to put everything on the line for you from the start. "I really like you. In that way."
You blink. "...Huh?"
He can't help himself. He'll apologize later. Your breath is warm and soft when he leans in and presses his lips to yours for too long. You don't push him away, uncannily receptive to the touch. You taste salty. Suo kisses you for as long as you'll let him and pulls away only for breath.
He isn't sure what he's expecting, but the jump from pure shock to pure embarrassment surprises him. You put a hand on your shoulder, jaw open in disbelief.
"....So it was like that," You mumble, in shock. "It was... really like that?"
"For a long time, now"
"I also like Suo-kun, but how shocking."
Suo stares at you. "Are you sure your like and my like are the same? I get the feeling that -"
You press your lips to his as if to prove a point, pulling away and brushing it off just as quickly. He can feel the heat rise to his neck in immediate disbelief. You frown at him "Between us, I'm the one who's good at being honest so don't be like that,"
He just... stares. He's elated but completely confused. "Why didn't you confess earlier?"
You smile sheepishly. "Being your friend is also good, so I was okay with not changing it. It's hard to tell what you're thinking and I didn't think it was important."
He laughs in disbelief, dropping his head down to your shoulder. He didn't think he would be this happy. He didn't even think it was possible. "How could that not be important?"
"You're more important to me than that," You say easily, though he can hear your beating from where his head is. "I'm happy we like each other but I care the most about Suo-kun's feelings and being with you since you're important to me. I want to be with you for a long time."
Ah. In some regards, it seems like Suo is never going to be able to one-up you. He laughs in disbelief as his arms snake around your waist, crushing you more tightly in his arms than he can bear. You giggle so sweetly when he does he thinks he might really be done for. His usual demeanor comes in easy, calm and collected but absolutely estatic.
"It sounds like a proposal." He mumbles, almost lovesick.
"We could get married but you have to ask my brother first."
Suo laughs brightly against your neck. "Be less casual about something like that," And then a little softer. "But yes, we'll stay together as long as you want."
He holds you like that a little bit longer.
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only-luce-the-goose · 6 months ago
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Heeeey pookie!!
i loved your Arthur fic too much, the man deserves to receive more love here🥹🫶🫶 I have two ideas for you, which in my head make more sense. I will try to explain myself as best as I can but in reality this is not my strong point LMAO
If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗
Or maybe something about him being a little jealous and possessive not in a grotesque sense like I had to defend her from someone in a bar or something, like her being too nice by not wanting to walk away so as not to hurt the other person even if it's bothering her (that happens to me often haha😅)
Maybee some of the care for her when she's sick 🥹🥹
Of course, only if you feel comfortable with these ideas, which were more than two, I apologize for that, I'm a little excited.🧍🏻‍♀️🫶🫶
(I hope I have made myself understood, also English is not my first language, I am sorry if this is complicated when read or understood, also sorry this was so long :(, anyway much love to you 💗💗💗💗)
Little things
A/N: I am going to write all of them, they're so cute. Arthur absolutely deserves more love, he's underrated. Don't worry btw, your English is fantastic. I'm actually Australian so my spelling of certain words are different to everyone else's 😅. Keep an eye on my page for the next few days, I'll release them soon (I just need to finish my uni assignment first, whoops 🤷‍♀️). I hope I did what you were thinking 🫶🫶
Arthur Leclerc x reader
Warnings: Fluffy/Simp Arthur
Synopsis: "If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗" - This part of the request.
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You and Arthur were lying on the couch watching a movie after a long day. You propped up my pillows with Arthur on top of you, head resting on your chest. Your fingers started to scratch the back of his scalp, slowly worth their way up. He sighed as he pressed himself deeper into you, nuzzling his face into your skin. He lifted his head up and pecked your lips. You look down at him and giggled, “what was that for, baby?”. He looked up at you with a peaceful smile, his eyes brimming with love as he replied “just appreciating the small things�� before resting his head back on your chest as you kept scratching his head.
The next time it happened, you guys were cuddled up in bed and you were reading a book. It might be one of the saddest books you had ever read in your life (for this I’m gonna use “Bridge to Terabithia” cuz I feel like everyone read it for school). You got the the chapter where the girl fell into the creek and drowned. The pure amount of detail broke your heart and sent you into a sobbing mess. Your sniffles caught Arthur’s attention, he looked down the see his shirt beginning to get wet. He pulled you up to face him as we wiped your tears. “Hey hey hey what happened mi amor?” He rushed. You explained what happened, causing Arthur to give you that look again. A peaceful smile, eyes brimming with love, he pecked your lips, “how about we read a happier book?” He suggested. “No” you said as you made eye contact again “I just wanna cuddle”. He grinned and settled down, pulling you into him “that is something I can definitely do”. You smiled as you tucked yourself into his side.
Another instance was when you and Arthur were walking through the paddock. The crowd was pushing and shoving, sweeping you away with them. Arthur quickly realised you had gotten caught up, jogging back to guide you again. You think your right hand to his left, your left hand coming up to hold his strong bicep on the same arm, basically wrapping yourself around his arm. You have his hand a little squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder when he squeezed back. You made it to the Ferrari garage and you knew you would need to let go but you didn’t want to, do you didn’t. Arthur planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you that dopey, in love look he gives you in moments like these. “What?” You laughed. Arthur pecked your lips “nothing my love” he mumbled against them, “just admiring” he winked. Just like a school girl, you giggled and then cuddled into him, are grip still tight on his arm.
What really stood out is when you were cleaning your shared apartment. You were going through your shared closet when you found a brown leather book. The title on the inside of the book, in Arthur’s unmistakeable handwriting, was “those moments”. You flicked through the book and saw dates and times, which matched to all the moments when Arthur gave you the look. Scratching his head on the couch, crying at a book, being clingy at the paddock, it was all there. What you didn’t know, was that Arthur was leaning on the door frame, watching you read his little things journal. “Find something good, amor?” You jumped at his question. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t be snooping but I’ve never seen it before, and I had no idea what it was for. I’m sorry, I should’ve given you your privacy an-” Arthur cut you off with a kiss. “Im glad you found it. Everytime you ask about this “look” I give you, you now know what I was feeling and thinking. Is that ok amor?” He has a glimmer of home in his eyes as he asks you. You put the book back where you got it from, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him deep “of it is, I love you Arthur” “I love you mi amor”
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sharonccrter · 6 months ago
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I saw this really interesting video, which talked about my two biggest gripes with challengers' discourse. Which are that everyone keeps saying Art is the heart of this movie, and secondly, the insistence that Patrick doesn't love Tashi, only Art. The creator pushes back against these two narratives, and I wholeheartedly agree. Patrick is arguably the heart of this movie.
Two of the most important scenes in the movie are the churro scene and the scene between p/t out in the storm, and they both centre around Patrick.
The entire movie is about passion and purpose in life, and Patrick is the passion.
I mean, a lot of people assume Patrick didn't really have feelings for Tashi, but the only person who says that is Art. Who is vying for Tashi and is his biggest competitor. The reason I empathise with Patrick is that he is genuine and loving to Art; he does love him. However, we are shown no evidence to suggest that Patrick is this shitty boyfriend, apart from what Art says when he's trying to get into Tashi's head because his jealous. We find out that they're talking every week while he's on tour (normal relationship shit). It's Art who insinuates that Patrick is cheating while on tour. The only person in this movie who says Patrick doesn't love Tashi is Art, and it's obviously very intentional.
I think the reason both Tashi and Art push Patrick out of their lives is because he forces them to comfort parts of themselves they are not yet comfortable with. I mean, it's obvious why Tashi would react that way to Patrick; she's just lost the most important thing in her life. However, I think it's tragic from Patrick's point of view as well. I mean, what did Patrick really do? He got into a fight with his girlfriend because she hurt his feelings.
And no, he's hurt was not about Art. The fight made him feel unimportant, which made him feel like she didn't actually care about him. And that's where Art comes in, because who was going around telling Patrick Tashi didn't give a shit? You bet ya. Art. Art absolutely got into his head. And even if he clocked it, in that moment, he still allowed it to get to him because he was emotional and upset. And because he was too hurt to support her, he was thrown out of Tashi and Art's lives.
And here's the thing, Patrick never saw Tashi as an idea. He saw her as a real person, unlike Art kinda did. Patrick wasn't going to let Tashi treat him like shit just because she was special. And, tbh, if Tashi hadn't gotten injured, I think it's something she would have eventually been grateful for. But instead, she got hurt; she pushed Patrick away, and Art slid into his place, telling her that she could be his entire world and the star. That's not healthy, and sorry to stay a little manipulative.
And let's talk about Art. Patrick and him were literally fire and ice. They always had this underlying desire. They were perfect opposites. Let's face it: Art could never replicate what he had on the court (and off) with anyone else. But instead of confronting his feelings, he took the first chance he had to get Patrick out of his life.
The girl I was watching said it perfectly, "Art and Tashi allowed themselves to find consolation prizes in each other and allowed them to run from parts of themselves they didn't want to comfort and in turn enable each other's worst habits."
Art tries to become a tennis superstar so Tashi can live through him, and Tashi gives him a family so he can finally be confident in who he is. But is there any passion? I don't know; I think at some point, it drained; nothing about what I saw on screen apart from their initial get-together screams passion.
Cue Patrick walking back into their life and showing them how they can feel. Art was always going to let Tashi live through him, but that was never going to be satisfying for her. Tashi needs to find a way to create an identity for herself, separate from him. And I believe it'll be the only way she'll live a satisfying life. That's why they need Patrick: to make them realise that and to help them rediscover their passion.
I think people think that Art is the heart because Patrick admits to being a piece of shit. But the truth is, they're all dicks; Patrick was just the only one who was willing to admit it.
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traumxrei-archive · 2 years ago
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【 death scares 】
prompt #6: Oh, Great Seven, he thought they were going to die. Please don’t ever scare him like that again (ft. sebek zigvolt, jade leech, leona kingscholar)
gn! prefect (you/yours), drabbles, word count: 1.6k
a/n: hello, i finished my research proposal so i have time before my next deadline to post this >:DD it's angsty asf, but i made sure that it was hurt/comfort so dw i gotchu guys ^^
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek wasn't someone who usually got scared. He knew better than to succumb to such feelings that all but interfered with one's ability to act. It was one of the things he learned when he was training to be one of the Young Master's guards.
But when he saw you dangling from a broom midair, Sebek felt all the hairs on his arms raise. You were barely holding on, and he could see everyone shouting in alarm from where you were.
If you fell, then you would...
Sebek gritted his teeth, "Give me one of your brooms, humans!" His voice boomed over all the commotion, turning heads.
The person nearest to him stuttered, "But brooms are only meant to hold one perso—"
"Does that matter?" Sebek grabbed the broom out of the other's hands. "If you don't do anything, that human is going to fall!"
He hopped onto the broom, flying to where you were before shouting, "Human! You need to let go and get on my broom!"
"I can't!" You cried, your arms shaking with effort. "You'll get hurt, Sebek!"
"Human, I am ten times more durable than you," Sebek said as calmly as he could, bringing his broom closer to yours. "If I fell from this height and got hurt, it'd be an insult to the Young Master!"
"Sebek!"
"What is it?"
"Promise you won't get mad?"
"I can't," Sebek watched as your fingers started to slip. "But I'll promise we won't fall."
It was at that moment when you fell. He felt his broom shift under your weight, and he strained to reinforce it with magic.
But you were here.
You were safe, and that was all that mattered to Sebek. He could feel the pounding of your heart against his back where you clutched onto his uniform.
"What were you thinking?" Sebek ranted, his anger finally surfacing as they made their way to the ground. "Human, I'll have you know that you could've died or been seriously injured!"
"Not only that," Sebek turned to face you. "The fact that— You're...crying...?"
You held on to one of his sleeves, the tears dripping onto the grass below, "I'm s-sorry, Sebek, I didn't mean to...to do that, it just—"
Sebek sighed, resting a hand on your shoulder, "It is alright. You are safe now, human, I was just—" Worried...? Worried? The Sebek Zigvolt, worried about a mere human? But really, who was he kidding? You weren't just a mere human to Sebek, were you?
"I didn't want to see you hurt, is all," He finished lamely. And he could see your eyes sparkling— this time not with unshed tears. Great Sevens, what kind of feeling was currently strangling his heart? Was it...fondness?
Sebek felt his ears warm, quickly brushing off the blooming feelings in his heart, "I-It would be best to get your hands checked out, I shall take you to the nurse!"
You smiled at that. A small smile, but to Sebek it meant the world. He continued on, rambling about broom safety as he led you to the infirmary. If it meant that you were smiling and not crying anymore, then Sebek would more than gladly fill up the silence with his voice.
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Jade Leech
Of all the things to happen today, he didn't think watching you put yourself in mortal peril was going to be one of them. Jade swallowed, trying to clear the stuffy feeling that seemed to sufuse his whole body.
He was waiting for you outside of the infirmary, the initial shock after the accident having finally subsided. Still, he couldn't get the picture of your body lying prone on the ground out of his mind.
"It was due to incorrect ratios," The nurse had said. "The alchemy potion had turned into a potent airborne poison. And if you had arrived any later..."
Jade didn't want to think about that part.
But soon enough, the nurse called him in. As he walked up to your bed, he couldn't bring himself to speak first. You weren't watching him, clearly focused on trying to open your water bottle.
"Let me," Jade's voice escaped him, and he saw your eyes widen when you saw him. He opened the bottle, handing it back to you without another word.
"Thank you."
Jade didn't know what else to say, his eyes following you as you drank. His mind brought back the image of you being unnaturally still. It was morbid. The thought made him sick, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Jade-senpai," You met his gaze and he felt his throat constrict. "Are you...mad at me?"
Jade felt his lips twitch, "Why, pray tell, would I be mad?"
"I...I'm sorry, I wasn't being careful enough," You bit your lip, and he couldn't bear to be upset with you any longer. He sighed, taking a seat beside you.
He very slowly slipped off his glove, talking all the while, "Next time you find yourself having to do an alchemy assignment alone, do invite me."
"But you're busy," There was clear hesitation in your voice, even as his hand tentatively held yours.
"Kind to a fault," Jade said shakily, feeling unsteady now that he could feel the warmth of your skin against his own. "There's no need for that. Your safety is more important, and I would gladly spend time with you. At least next time take one of your friends with you just...just in case." Jade pressed his lips together. He didn't mean to nag. He didn't mean to talk much at all, but the sight of you pried all his feelings out him so effortlessly. He really couldn't win against you.
And like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear, you smiled, "I'm okay now. See?" Your palm cupped over his, bringing his fingers to rest against your neck. And sure enough, he could feel your pulse thrumming under his fingers.
Jade closed his eyes before opening them again, "Right. Now then, I will be overseeing your recovery from now on." He clapped, his magic swirling through the air to tug your blankets into a more acceptable state.
"Wait, what–"
"I'll contact your friends to let you rest for now."
"No, senpai, wait–"
"Surely you aren't objecting to rest, Prefect?" Jade smiled as politely as he could and he watched as you shuddered. "After all you almost di–"
"I'll be in your care then," You huffed, before patting his arm. "Just make sure you don't over do it."
"I won't. I'll be taking very good care of you."
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Leona Kingscholar
"The Prefect got into an accident."
Leona couldn't understand how those words filled him with such dread. He couldn't even wait for Ruggie to finish, he was already rushing to the infirmary.
What did Ruggie mean by you got into an accident? What kind of accident was it? Were you okay? Sevens forbid that you were...
Leona gritted his teeth as he arrived. Irrational anger and worry wasn't like him. He took a deep breath, schooling his emotions before knocking on the door.
"Kingscholar," The nurse acknowledged. "To what do I–"
"The Prefect."
"...Right," They nodded before leading him toward where you were. The curtains were drawn and he couldn't...see you. "Don't do anything too rash."
Leona nodded, drawing back the curtain. His stomach dropped at the sight of you, your head wrapped up in bandages, and plasters covering your arms and legs.
You were awake, and you blinked as he stood there, "Leona-senpai..."
Leona heaved out a harsh breath, sitting at the edge of the bed. He didn't know what to do. Not when that ugly mix of anger and worry was bubbling at the base of his throat. Instead all he did was stare, as if any second an ugly red would mar the bandage on your head.
"I, uhm," You spoke first, your head turned downward. "It wasn't anyone's fault. We...had some rain at Ramshackle, and it leaked inside... The staircase, it... Ramshackle's old, so..."
"You're telling me the staircase fell in on you?" There was a surprised look on your face as he spoke. Even he couldn't understand the flatness of his voice.
"I...yeah," You clenched your fists. "Grim's okay, he was at the foyer when it happened, but..."
"So you almost died," At your nod, Leona felt the anger morph straight into fear. Died? The herbivore? You almost died?
He scowled at the thought as he pried your hands from the sheets, "Stop that. You're gonna make your injuries worse." His eyes met yours, and he could see the fear there too— in the way you trembled despite the day being warm.
"Herbivore..." He muttered before moving closer to you. He was mindful of your bandages as he held you, trying to ease your shaking.
"I was scared," You murmured into his shoulder. "I thought that it was the end, and—"
"You're here now," Leona soothed, and he wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort. "You'll be alright, herbivore." You pulled away with a weak smile and it took all of Leona's self control not to pull you back to him.
He sighed, hanging his head, "You...you drive me crazy. Really, do I have to cast protective spells on you to keep you safe?"
Your hand settled over his, "I won't object if you do. It might come in handy sometime."
"That's not the point. And you should sleep," Leona gently pushed you against the pillows. "How are you gonna get better enough to ask Crowley for more budget if you don't rest?"
"And..." Your voice was quiet; inquisitive. "You'll stay?"
"I wasn't planning on leaving," Leona braced his head against his arm. "Now sleep." That seemed to appease you, and soon enough, he could hear the steady sound of your breathing fill the room. And in the quiet of the room, Leona vowed never to let you fall into danger again. Not if he could do something about it.
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ty for reading the hurt/comfort !! i hope that it uh, appeased your angst chasing for now, and if you'd like to read more of my stuff, check out my masterlist <3
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russellsppttemplates · 7 months ago
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Not anymore (Lando Norris)
Lando's determined to make you see where you belong
Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
Part 1
The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning
From Lan
Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie
To Lan
I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!
Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.
There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.
"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.
"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.
"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".
Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.
"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".
"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".
Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.
Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".
"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.
Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.
"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.
.
"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.
"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.
"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.
"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".
Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.
He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.
Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.
The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".
"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.
The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.
"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.
"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".
You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.
"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.
"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.
"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.
.
You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.
They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.
"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.
"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.
The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.
You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.
The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.
When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.
It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.
Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.
Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.
As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.
“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.
"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.
"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.
It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.
"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.
To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.
Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.
Not made to be together.
"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.
"Is it good here now?", he offered.
"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".
"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.
He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.
"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.
"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.
"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".
“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.
There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.
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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 9 months ago
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Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!
ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...
Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.
I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3
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More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]
Part 1
Part 2.5
"You controlling prick!"
Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.
Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.
"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."
The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."
"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.
Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.
"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.
"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."
"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."
You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."
It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.
--
Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.
In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.
Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.
It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.
"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"
"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.
For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.
Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"
"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.
"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."
"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."
Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."
You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."
You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."
"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"
He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."
You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."
"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."
You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.
After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.
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jenn-ieverse · 29 days ago
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ⵌ ❝ BOYNEXTDOOR IMAGINE ꒱
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❞﹒🧶﹒ⵌ ! idol¡boynextdoor hyungline X
fem¡reader﹚˃˂ ⵌ 𑇢
One of the staffs asks who you are in relation to the member and you say 'just a friend' when you are actually their girlfriend. Their reactions below!
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Myung Jae Hyun « 명재현 »
You recall how Jaehyun wanted to eat tuna gimbap when he was at your place last night but you were out of tuna. You smile at the lunch box in your hand as you walk into the HYBE building planning to drop off his lunch before going on your way to university. You take a seat in the waiting area and were about to pull out your phone to text him when you notice him walk out of the elevator with a middle aged man. As soon as he passes the security gate, you walk up to him. “Jae!” his eyes widen with surprise, his face breaks out in a smile, “Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” before you could say anything the man interrupts, “Who's she?” Jaehyun looks like he's been waiting to answer this question his whole life but you speak before he does.
“Neighborhood friend.” you respond quickly, “Here.” you place the lunch bag in his hands, “Auntie asked me to drop this to you.” the frowns at your actions, “Hyung, can you give me a minute?” he asks the man and the other nods, excusing both of you. “What's wrong?” he sighs at your question. “Really Y/N? It took me so many years to get out of the friend zone and you threw me back into it?” he pouts annoyed. “It's not like that Jae, I just don't want you to get into any trouble.” you ruffle his hair. “I appreciate the concern but I'd much rather have everyone know...” he pauses, “This beautiful woman right here is my girlfriend!” yells out loud catching you off guard. Every person on the ground floor was now looking at both of you. You look around in shock before looking back at your boyfriend, the moment your eyes meet, both of you burst out laughing.
Park Sung Ho « 박성호 »
Sungho had purposely came to the café where you were working part time, with some of his staff members. For the past hour both of you have been sneaking looks at each other every now and then. Finally when it time for the group to leave, Sungho comes up to the counter to grab the go to coffee for his group members. “Hi babe.” he leans over the counter, “Don't make it obvious Sungho.” you chuckle at his smitten smile while looking around carefully. “Don't make what obvious? That I am in love with you?” his words make you gasp, earning a laugh from him. “Okay Romeo, calm down, there are people here.” you continue pouring coffee into the plastic tumblers.
“What's taking you so long?” one of the staff members approach the counter and notice you and Sungho conversing. “Is she a fan?” he asked Sungho, “No she's my-” you cut Sungho off. “Friend, school friends.” you respond in his place. “Oh I see. That's why you come to this café often?” the staff pats Sungho in the back and walks back to the table. Sungho stands there awfully quiet and deep in thought until he has to leave. You hand over the coffee tumblers and eventually the group of staffs along with Sungho leaves the café. You realize that he must be bothered by your response earlier. Sungho is not the type to have impulsive outburst of reactions he is a more rational person so he might be feeling conflicted on the inside.
After your shift is over, you walk outside only to see Sungho waiting for you. “Y/N” he quickly jogs up to you. “Look I kept thinking about what you said earlier.” just as you had thought, your remark did bother him, “I realized that too Sungho, I am sorry for down playing our relationship, I just-” he cups your face in his palms. “You don't have to apologize, I know you were trying to be cautious and I appreciate it but at the same time I felt a little hurt, we are so much more that just friends, right?” he scans your face for a reaction. You offer him a soft smile, feeling comfort the warmth of gis hands around your face. “Of course we are. You are the love of my life, Romeo.” you tease him with the incident earlier. Luckily he smiles and leans in to press a kiss on your lips.
Lee Sang Hyuk « 이상혁 »
You wait for Riwoo outside the KBS office, he supposedly had a meeting, your college campus was nearby so both of you decide to meet up and get something to eat. “Y/N!” You smile when you see Riwoo jogging up to you excitedly, he engulfs you in a hug as you press your face against his chest. “I missed you.” he smiles at your words, “I missed you more.” he says pulling away. “What should we eat?” you asked excitedly, still holding onto his hand and swinging it back and forth. “Kalguksu?” Riwoo suggests, you notice a woman approaching both of you so you quickly let go of his hand leaving him confused.
Riwoo follows your gaze and finally notices the woman, “PD noona.” the woman greets Riwoo. “You left your script inside.” she hands over bunch of clipped papers to Riwoo, “Ah! Thank you.” Riwoo responds gratefully. “And this is?” she turns to you with a smile, Riwoo waits for you to reply. “Friend, I am his friend.” you say with an awkward smile. “My girlfriend actually.” Riwoo intertwines his hands with yours as you look at him surprised. “It is so? Both of you look so cute together.” the woman compliments before turning to Riwoo. “See you at set.” she says before bidding her goodbye and walking away. You look at him nervously, waiting for him to express how disappointed he is at your response. “Kalguksu?” he asks instead, your worries go away and you smile. “Kalguksu it is.” he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “I love you girlfriend.” his emphasis on the word girlfriend makes you laugh. “I love you too, boyfriend.”
୨ ₊ ┈ ⪩⪨   ┈ ₊ ୧
A/N :- It's my first imagine ever also not proofread because I am severely sleep deprived. Reblog and likes are appreciated! Comment if you want me to make a maknae line x reader too! Also if you have any other imagine ideas that you want me to write, you can send it to me through mailbox!
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139 notes · View notes
skzstannie · 10 months ago
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“What about Ben?”
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,800 cw: reader has a panic attack and depression, Ben is ur lil bro
summary: your mom isn’t happy about your absence at your brother’s birthday party, but she takes her anger a step too far this time
A/N: Happy New Year everyone! I hope everyone has a blessed 2024! Part 2s for both the Felix and the Han fic are underway, so send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list for either of them!
Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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"Mom, you know I can't just up and leave! What are you expecting me to do?"
You find yourself having the same conversation with your parents time and time again- they want you to come home, you can't come home, then they give you the silent treatment for a period of time until they want you to come home for something else.
It's mentally exhausting, having to deal with their constant negative remarks towards you job. You only do it for your little brother; him growing up without you is not in the cards for you. In fact, that's what this argument you're having with your mom is about this time.
"I expect you to put your family first for once in your life!" your mother yells back. You flinch, pulling the phone away from your ear.
"Mom, you know I wouldn't miss Ben's birthday unless I absolutely have to. I want to be there for him, I really do!" your words do little to convince her as she already has her mind made up about the type of person you are.
"This has happened one too many times. Missing the occasional family gathering is one thing, but it’s your brother's birthday." Her disgust easily wafts through the speaker of your phone, and you bite your lip to keep from absolutely lashing out at her.
Your parents were never understanding of your job. They always expected you to just pack up your bags and fly home for the smallest of things.
Your baby cousin said her first words? "Why aren't you here?"
Your little brother lost another tooth? "Why would you want to miss this important milestone?"
Your grandma got a new dog? "What kind of heartless person denies their grandparents?"
Over and over, you've been criticized for your job. You give them the same explanation each time, as it's the truth.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I want to be there; I really really do. It's just that-"
"Always with the excuses. Ya know what? I'm tired of the excuses," she pauses and your breath hitches in your throat.
"Ma?" your voice is choked up, and you find your lip wobbling from where it's pulled between your mouth.
Your mother sighs, her disappointment evident. "We're done with the excuses, Y/N. If you can't be here for us, I don't think this is going to work out."
You swear your heart stops upon hearing her words. "What do you mean?" the laugh you let out is far from humorous. It's desperate. "How could it not work out? I'm your daughter, there's nothing to work out. You're supposed to love me and care for me, unconditionally."
"You've crossed the line too many times. Don't try to spin this around and make me the bad guy. This is completely your fault, you and those stupid boys."
Your parents could talk trash about you all they want, but you never let them get away with saying stuff about your boys. "You can belittle me, argue with me, call me every name in your book, but I will not let you talk about the guys like that. They're my family, too," your almost able to catch yourself, but you realize your mistake far too late.
"Oh, yea? Well, if those guys are your family, why not spend the rest of your time with them, too. It’s not like you weren’t already planning to anyway. Spend your holidays with them, your birthdays with them. He’ll, what do you even need us for?”
Tears well in your eyes, a mix of anger and fear swelling deep in your gut. "Mom, you know that's not what I meant." You’re completely choked up, your words coming out just above a whisper in volume.
You've had fights, but they never go as far as this. Usually, your mom would've hung up by now, leaving you with nothing but radio silence for months on end.
As toxic as this is, she's your mom. You couldn't live this life without her. She's toxic now, using your vulnerability against you every chance she gets, but she wasn't always that way.
She was once a loving mother, one who packed your lunch every morning for school, sending you off with a kiss on your cheek. A mom who'd pay extra to get more of your school pictures so she could put them on her desk at work and in her car. She used to show her love for you as any mother does, but you havent felt that in so long.
The last time you were home was a little over two months ago, and not once did she hug you, kiss you, or even touch you. She was cold and emotionless towards you.
You should've seen it coming. All this tension building up for months on end, it was going to have to bottom out eventually.
As much as the above is true, the words that flew out her mouth next shocked you beyond belief, causing the tears to flow freely from your waterline.
"Don't come back home, Y/N. I'm serious. You've done too much damage to my family." There’s a beeping on the other end of the phone, and it drops from your shaking hand to the carpeted floor beneath you.
Don't come back?
You were always sorry, apology after apology leaving your lips when you had to miss something your family organized. You thought it'd be okay. Your mom would get over herself eventually, and you'd come home when the company allowed you to.
You pick up the phone, hands a trembling mess, and call back, praying for another chance to explain yourself. You’re met with an automated message, the robotic voice piercing your ear.
"I'm sorry, this customer is unavailable."
You hang up and call again. She wouldn't have blocked you. It was just a silly fight, right?
"I'm sorry, this customer is-" you hang up before the message finishes, throwing your phone onto the floor next to you.
Your sobs become audible, and your body crumbles onto the floor, your knees thankful for the soft surface the carpet provides. Your fingers claw at the skin around your eyes, looking for a relief from the emotional pain coursing through your body.
Red lines mark your face, leaving the areas tender and puffy.
Your heart constricts in betrayal.
How could she?
She raised you, gave birth to you. How was it so easy for her?
The thought of your little brother enters your jumbled thoughts, and your heart breaks further.
He’s only six years old, and he is the best little brother you could ever ask for. He loves with all his heart, and you are lucky enough to get to experience it, to be apart of that little circle he could wrap his arms around and squeeze with all his might.
The thought of never squishing his chubby cheeks again destroys you, and you're unable to express the amount of heartache you're feeling.
So you scream.
You scream loud, your emotions ripping through your throat like shards of glass through skin.
You’re too distraught to notice the door to your bedroom whipping open. Chan and Minho stand there in the doorway, their eyes wide and mouths agape.
They've never seen you like this before. They've never seen anybody like this before, actually. Your screams are manic as they bounce off the walls around you, echoing around the room.
Once their shock dies off, they rush over to you. Minho is gentle in his grip but firm as he pries your hands away from your face. He gasps when he sees the damage your nails have already done, your once soft features now blotchy with angry red streaks.
You continue to scream, your nails now digging into Minho's arm. Chan grabs you from behind, doing his best to soothe you out of your hysteria.
"Y/N, you have to calm down. Please, it's ok, shhh," he says, his hold around you tight in an attempt to give you some sense of security.
"What happened? Can you talk to us?" you ignore Minho.
They accept that you're too worked up too answer them, and they let you finish your episode, the two of them doing everything they can to try and soothe you.
The rest of the guys in the dorm stand in the doorway now, your cries too agonizing for them to ignore. Varying degrees of shock are spread across their faces as they watch.
Chan starts to mumble sweet words to you as you come out of your panic attack, your brain finally able to register your surroundings again.
“It hurts,” you whimper, chest aching. “It’s so hard to breathe.”
"It's ok, we're here," he repeats, his head pressed up against the side of yours.
"Tell us five things you can see right now," Minho says from beside you, his grip still tight around your sweaty hands.
Your voice is scratchy, your throat red and scarred from your screams, but you oblige, knowing this will help you ground yourself. "I see my alarm clock," your eyes scan your room, landing on the bright digital clock you have sitting on your bedside table.
"Good," he hums, "What else?"
Your eyes travel to the door and you see the scared faces of the rest of your members. You lock in on Felix, his hands clenched tightly in front of him as salty tears stream down his face.
"I see Felix," you whisper, the pain from your throat becoming more and more noticeable.
He nods his head. "Good, now three more things. What else do you see?"
You look to your opened closet, your eyes catching the way your clothes spill out of your messy dresser onto your floor. "I see my favorite hoodie. I see my curtains, and I see that stain on my wall."
"Perfect, Y/N. Take a few deep breaths now." You breathe with Minho, your erratic breaths eventually matching his steady ones.
Finally calmed down enough, you slump back into Chan's hold, completely exhausted from the panic attack.
The room is silent for a moment, all the guys letting you have a second to gather your bearings.
"What happened?" Changbin steps through the rest of the members, settling next to the three of you on the floor. The rest follow suit, some sitting on your bed and some sitting beside Changbin.
"It's my mom again. I don't even know, I think she like, kicked me out? Like, kicked me out of the family?" You're almost embarrassed to explain the situation. You don't know why, maybe in fear your members will think your mom's right. That maybe you have been missing too many family functions, and that you should’ve made more time for them.
"Y/N, that's awful," hums of agreeance come throughout the room, and Hyunjin's words help to reassure you. "You don't deserve that, not one bit."
"She's completely out of line. Nothing you did warranted this at all," Seungmin chimes in. He knows thoughts of uncertainty are swirling through your head, the gaslighting from your mother turning your thoughts to mush.
"What about Ben?"
"What about him? You know your mom's full of shit, and the minute you show up at her doorstep she'll welcome you in. She's bluffing," Changbin pipes up again, his shoulders tight with anger.
"I don't think she is this time."
~ ~ ~
It's another day, and you've spent it the exact same way you spent the last five- curled up in your bed with the lights off, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.
Chan's come in to check on you periodically, but you’ve been alone for the most part.
The knock at your door alerts you from your sleepy state, and you call them in.
“Hey, I brought you some soup. Minho made it earlier today, and I figured you might be hungry,” Chan says, giving you a timid smile.
“Thanks, Chan, but I’m not really hungry right now. Can you just set it there?” You point to the little table you have at the end of your bed, “I’ll eat it later, I promise.”
Your phone starts to ring, and you gasp when you see who’s calling.
Dad
You pick up immediately, and you’re met with the distant yells of your parents. Confused, you ask, “Hello, Dad?”
“Sissy,” comes through. It’s Ben. His voice is small, and fear seeps through the speaker.
“Buddy, what’s wrong?” You keep your tears at bay, knowing you need to be strong for him. Chan sits down beside you when he hears the little voice you’re talking to, and he rubs your back in comfort.
“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” he sniffles, the microphone personifying every bit of his sadness. “I miss you, Sissy.”
“I miss you, more, buddy, but I don't think we're gonna be able to see each other for a while," you choke back sobs.
“But I miss you so much,” he’s crying harder now, and it’s hard to hold yourself together knowing he’s struggling like he is.
“I know, buddy, I know. I’m so sorry I missed your birthday, I couldn’t get a day off work,” you explain. Chan brings his finger up to your cheek, catching your tear before it’s able to fall from your cheek.
You hear Ben gasp, and your heart beat picks up. “Ben, is everything ok? What happened?”
“Mommy’s coming, and I have to go. She told me I couldn’t talk to you, but I stole Dad’s phone. Love you, sissy,” and he’s gone before you can even say it back.
Chan eventually leaves your side upon your request to be alone for a while. The soup beside your bed grows cold as your sadness overwhelms you once again.
~ ~ ~ "Alright, rise and shine!" you're awoken from your slumber by the bright light shining in from your window. You groan, throwing your pillow over your head to block the light. Your curtains hadn’t been opened in weeks, and you were planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible.
"Nope," the intruder says, ripping the pillow from off your face.
"We've allowed you to wallow in this room long enough. If we're not performing or doing an interview, you're laying in the dark in bed." Your eyes open, crusty and sore from the crying you did before falling asleep the night before.
Hyunjin's face paints your irises, his features full of determination.
"Time to get up." He throws your pillow back on the bed beside you, turning to walk out your door. "Oh, and pack a bag, we're flying somewhere today."
You shoot up in bed at that. "Nothing's on the schedule for today, so where are we going?”
‘Is it something I can get out of?’ is what you really want to say, but you keep it to yourself.
"It’s a surprise. Get up and get dressed, we leave in an hour," he finishes, closing the door behind him.
You slide out of bed, your limbs dragging your covers onto the floor. You don't bother picking them up, too tired to care about the messy appearance of your room.
You quickly get ready, throwing on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You pull your hair up into a ponytail, attempting to hide the grease that's accumulated over the past few days.
The ride to the airport is quiet and relatively peaceful. Everyone's happy to see you up and moving again, but the facade you've been putting on for the public has been washed away in your tired state, leaving your features drowsy. The dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your cheekbones sticking out more than usual. Your hair’s thinned a little, and your lips are cracked from your lack of hydration.
Through security and the rest of the way through the airport, you grip Jisung's arm, both of you needing the other's support in the overcrowded building.
Chan had explained to you that the managers wanted to start filming for the next SKZ Code a day early, fearing it might take longer than expected.
When you see the television next to your boarding terminal, your eyes practically bug out of your head.
Why would you be filming the next SKZ Code in your hometown?
That's the last place you want to go, your fight with your mom still fresh in your mind. You've been feeling the affects of it, her harsh words and actions sending you deep into a depressive episode.
Your members have noticed, trying their best to pull you from it, but nothing they did seem to work.
They can't begin to sympathize with you, none of them ever experiencing the kind of hurt you feel deep in your heart, wreaking havoc on your sanity. All they can do is offer you words of encouragement and love, assuring you that you still have a family, a very real one. While the nine of you may not be related by blood, the bond between all of you is strong.
They decided to take their efforts one step further, however, after seeing you begin to spiral. Your naps became longer and more frequent, often taking up most of the time you were supposed to be awake. You had been neglecting your self care routine, not even having enough energy to shower and brush your teeth most days.
Chan decided that enough is enough, so he convinced the managers to book you all a flight to your hometown to try and reconcile your family. As much as they wanted your mom out of your life, you were much more sane with her in it, and you needed your dad and your brother.
~ ~ ~
The flight was a success, everything going perfectly smooth.
You're now squished into the backseat of a car on the way to the house you'll all be staying at for the remainder of the filming.
The first thing you notice when pulling up into the driveway is how beautiful the house is. The front yard has the most angelic archways leading up to the house, with flowers lining the sidewalk and little statues spread about.
The house itself is amazing. Tall glass windows cover most of the front, the sunlight easily shining through, lighting up the front room.
The five of you- Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, I.N, and yourself- make your way into the house, and all of your previous worries disappear at the sight of the incredible interior. The walls are lined with expensive looking art, chandeliers hang from the tall ceilings, and the floors are marbled with white and gray.
Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, and Seungmin went to the store in the other van. They said they needed to pick up some last minute essentials for your stay.
Little did you know, they were actually going to your parents house. Their hopes were to get your mother to forgive you, or at least be civil so you could have a conversation with her.
Unfortunately, their visit did not go as planned, and it ended with your mother threatening to call the cops on them if they didn't leave the property immediately. This, of course, did not deter Lee Know from giving her a piece of his mind. His outburst was in Korean, and the insults he threw at her were so quick she'd never be able to recall them to look them up in a translator.
As much as they wanted to stay, to defend you and help you get your family back, they knew they couldn't. Getting law enforcement involved was the last thing they needed, knowing their managers would immediately regret sending them on this short getaway.
So, with that, they went back to the house with anger embedded in their hearts. They didn't want to have to tell you the real reason you all came here. They didn't know how you would react. Would you be thankful they tried to help? Would you feel betrayed that they'd went to your home without permission? They didn't know, but it was time to face the music; there was no SKZ Code to film, and they had no shopping bags in hand, so the truth was going to have to come out.
"Y/N," Chan sighs as he plops down next to you on the couch. You're both seated in the sunroom, looking out at the lake that sits in the backyard.
He gets your attention, and you slide your phone in your hoodie pocket, turning your body to face him. "What's up?"
He hates that he has to be the one to bring up your family again. You look so peaceful, your face no longer contorted with sorrow and pain like it'd been for weeks now, but he knows he has to tell you. It’s only fair to you. "So, please don't get mad, but this whole thing may or may not have been just a setup for you to see your family again."
Your heart beats out of your chest at the mention of seeing your family again. "Really, when can we go?" Your excitement radiates off of you, and you quickly stand to your feet.
Chan grabs ahold of your sleeve and gently guides you back down next to him, his eyes filled with pity. "Well, when we said we were going shopping earlier, we actually went to your house," he pauses, his eyes scanning your features; your face is blank, the excitement from seconds ago long gone. "Your mom wasn't exactly appreciative of our presence, and she kicked us out. Said she'd call the cops if we didn't leave. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
Your mind whirls with the information Chan just threw at you. "So, all of this," you gesture to your surroundings, "was for me? There's no SKZ Code?"
He shakes his head, his hand coming to rest on your arm, "No SKZ Code."
"And my mom still doesn't want to see me?"
He shakes his head again, slower this time. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you. I thought she'd be more open to talk to you, to us, but she wasn't. If I'd have known it'd end this way, I would've never done all this."
You sit there in silence, your gaze downcast. There's no sadness or anger in your heart, no tears welling up in your eyes. You expelled all the emotions you could over the past few weeks, and you've left yourself with nothing.
You stand, your only desire to go lay down on the plushy bed you found in one of the bedrooms when you were exploring earlier. As you walk away from Chan, he stops you.
"Where are you going?"
"To sleep."
"Are you sure that's a good idea? I can come with you?"
"No thank you, I'll be fine," your voice is robotic as you decline his offer. You make your way to the room, climbing up the stairs to the second floor.
You're out like a light as soon as your head hits the feathery pillow, the day’s events catching up to you all at once.
~ ~ ~
You're rudely awoken by the sound of your phone ringing. You pull it out from your pocket, your eyes squinting at the brightness.
Your eyes widen at the contact name that appears on the screen.
Dad
You quickly press the answer button, scared if you wait too long the opportunity will disappear quicker than it showed up.
Your dad had always been a follower. He's the youngest of four siblings, so it was instinctual for him to do what they did. When he married your mom, he had been the same way. Whatever your mom said went.
Your dad loved you and your brother so much, with all his heart, but when your mom started to act up, he became distant. He was never mean to you; he just stopped calling one day, stopped texting. You knew it was because of your mom; a part of you thought he was scared of her.
The last few times you'd gone home, the tension between them was almost unbearable, but your dad always rolled with it. Essentially, he was your mom's very own punching bag. You felt bad for him, but only he had the power to do something about it. You certainly didn't want to say anything. You were already walking on eggshells with her, the last thing you wanted to do was upset her more.
You bring the phone up to your ear, a shaky 'Hello?' leaving your overly chapped lips.
"Hi, sweetie. It's Dad," his voice is as shaky as yours, and he sounds choked up.
"Dad, what's wrong?"
"I can't do it anymore, Y/N. I cannot listen to her and let her treat you this way anymore."
Your heart breaks for him. All throughout your childhood they had been a happily married couple. The love they had for each other was immense.
"I'm getting a divorce, and I'm taking your brother with me."
Your heart is so conflicted. On one hand, this is the greatest news you've ever heard. You'll get your dad and brother back! On the other hand, you'd never wish divorce on anyone. While this experience would not be exceptionally hard for you, given your nonexistent relationship with your mom and the fact that you don't even live at home, it would certainly be hard for the people you love.
"After your band mates came and tried to talk some sense into your mother, it made me realize how blind I've been these past few years. She’s been so mean and cruel to you, and I just sat by and watched."
You don't know how your little brother will take it. Your mom has spoiled him with everything under the sun. This will surely devastate him.
Your dad, too, this can't be easy for him. You know it's not easy for him from the quiet sobs you hear on the other side of the phone.
You're not sure what to say as he continues to cry. "Dad-"
"Honey, please forgive me," he pleads, his voice cracking. "I've let your mom walk all over us for years now, and I'm so sorry."
"Dad, it's ok. It's not your fault."
He's quiet for a moment. "I have Ben at Grandma's house now. Can you come? He's crying so hard. It wasn't easy to leave, your mom put up a fight and was screaming. I think it scared him a bit."
"Yes, Dad, I will be there as soon as possible. I'm leaving now. Can you send me the address so I can give it to the driver?"
He sends the address and you hang up, promising you'll see him in just a few minutes.
You hurriedly put your shoes on and run down the stairs. All your members are sat in the living room, some video game lighting up the television.
"My dad’s getting a divorce, and he has my brother at my grandma's right now. I have to go see them," you quickly ramble out, looking in your purse to make sure you have everything.
The guys are stunned at your demeanor. They haven't seen you move with such determination in weeks.
"I'm coming with you," Chan says matter-of-factly, standing from the sofa to put his shoes on.
"Chan, you don't have-"
"I want to. I just want to make sure everything's alright," he sighs at the look you give him, your eyes boring into his. "I'll even stay in the car."
You roll your eyes at that, but you don't fight him. You suppose it doesn't really matter if he's there; you just want to see your family again.
~ ~ ~
One short car ride later and you're jumping out of the car, the seatbelt flinging back against the door. Your brother waits for you on the porch, the biggest smile gracing his lips.
You sprint at him, swinging him off his feet and embracing him tightly. "I've missed you sissy!" he cheers, his little arms wound tight around your neck. His tears have dried since your phone call with your dad, leaving little streaks down his cheeks.
"I've missed you more, Bubby," you tell him, thankful to have him in your arms again. Your eyes crinkle as your mouth splits into the biggest smile.
Your dad comes outside upon your arrival and wraps the two of you in a hug, giving you a tight squeeze. His eyes meet Chan's over your shoulder, who decided to step just outside of the car.
'Thank you,' your dad mouths to Chan, giving him a grateful smile.
‘Thank you’ for what? Chan wasn’t exactly sure. Bringing you to him? He’d do it a million times over. Taking care of you? He’d never let you struggle without him by your side.
Chan gives him a thumbs up in reply, just happy to see you happy again.
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waffle-spam · 21 days ago
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Being the Big Spoon (Lyney)
I saw a magic siblings edit and had a sudden urge to write :P
Scenario: Holding them to sleep when they're usually the ones holding you
Contents: Fluff, I think this counts as hurt/comfort, established relationship, me trying to pick apart the characters brain and how they think, no gender specified
Definitely using this scenario with Xiao too lol.
In usual wafflespam fashion this was written on my phone as I was falling asleep so idk hopefully it makes sense / is in character?
Lyney was supposed to be the protector.
With his siblings, with being the next Father of the House of the Hearth, with everyone.
It was late and Lynette and Freminet were out on a mission, which always had him feeling anxious. The siblings were a package deal. They always did missions together. They worked best together, always covered each other's weaknesses with their strengths, always bright back results. Of course he knew they were perfectly strong and capable without him, but they haven't been separated like this -- him safe at home while his family was out there where he couldn't do anything if something were to go wrong -- since Lynette got her vision first and started going on the more dangerous missions without him. An integral, inseparable part of himself was out there, exposed to danger without him being able to preserve it.
But he couldn't think about that now. He had to get some rest because he had his own mission early the next day.
Normally when things were this bad his siblings would rest beside him, their presence a grounding force for him.
But right now he didn't have them. He had you.
He wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours, as if trying to physically shield you from the world.
If he couldn't be out there protecting his siblings, at least he could protect you like this. The thought seemed to appease his worries to some degree.
He was caught off guard when he felt you adjust yourself as the two of you slept, now being held close under the crook of your neck instead of him feeling you curled up against his chest.
"You're shivering," you whisper to him, and he realizes only now that you've pointed it out.
"How observant..." He hummed, flashing what he hoped looked like a cheeky smile, his composure and stage confidence quickly returning as Lyney called upon it with practiced ease. "Nothing ever gets past you, does it?"
You seemed to frown at that.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine..." You say, long accustomed to his tendency to hide his problems away. If he wasn't ready, he wasn't ready. "But I want to try something."
Gentle hands rested on his upper arms now, the repeated circular movements of your thumbs against him coaxing the loud thoughts in his head to fade to a dull static. Still there, ever-present prickling at the back of his mind, but more manageable now.
He was enveloped in warmth, the very same warmth he was always trying to preserve for others. The very same warmth he didn't dare set aside for himself if it meant someone he cared about would go cold.
His siblings often tried to talk to him, to get him to open up, but some things he just couldn't share.
For the first time in a long while, he was the one receiving comfort instead of giving it. Maybe it was because he was too tired to take on the caretaker role right now. Maybe it was the sudden flood of calm that made him not want to get out of your arms.
Slowly, tentatively, he let himself relax against you. He let himself get lost in your heartbeat, your gentle breathing, your soft whispers that he was barely awake to register.
You can feel how he physically melts against you, his warm breaths against your shoulder evening out as he finally fell asleep.
---
I really didn't know how to end this I'm sorry 🫠
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604to647 · 3 months ago
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Safest with You (Ch. 21 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 2)
11.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader
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Summary: Despite Din's attempts to be evasive, you learn the truth about your break-up, and make some decisions about what you are and are not willing to accept going forward.
Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Angst, pining, longing. Nicknames as usual (pretty bird, baby). Some smuttiness but won't spoil.
A/N: Well, we're here: the penultimate chapter (if you don't count the epilogue) - sorry for the word count! 😱 Thank you to everyone who's read up to here - I can't tell you how much it means to me! I know some of you have some strong feelings about Din's actions/dumbdumbness and that's okay!! If you feel like regardless of his intentions, he shouldn't be forgiven/can't be redeemed, I invite you to read up until the paragraph that ends with the blue heart dividers 💙💙💙. I hope that where it ends provides a satisfying conclusion for the series for you and thank you, thank you, thank you again!
All dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist
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You don’t know how you get through dinner; you must have gone on some kind of small talk auto-pilot because if Mark knew just how much your mind was preoccupied by another man while he was being nothing but genuine and engaging, he probably would have thrown a glass of wine in your face.
Outside of the restaurant, Mark gives you a shy look and asks if you want to get ice cream for second dessert.  Oh man, he really is good guy.
“Oh Mark, I really cannot believe I’m turning down ice cream, but I have something to confess to you,” you look apologetic and hope he’ll let you say what you think he deserves to hear.
“Honestly, Mark – you’re a dream date.  You’re smart and funny and Jen was so right, you’re a fucking catch.  I can’t tell you how guilty I’ve been feeling because I don’t think I’ve been reciprocating the energy and effort that you deserve.  I don’t know if Jen told you, but I got out of a relationship a while ago and I thought I was ready to date again – but being with you tonight… I realize I’m completely out of my element.  I don’t have any business going out with a great guy like you – not right now anyways.  I’m so sorry.”
Mark looks surprised, but his tone is understanding, “Oh!  Wow.  Jen did say something about that – I’m sorry about your last relationship.  It sounds like it really did a number on you.  If it makes you feel better – I had a great time.  I didn’t in anyway feel like I was carrying the date or anything.  And if tonight was you not feeling like you’re up to dating again, then I can’t quite imagine what it would be like to date you when it’s something you’re ready to put your all into.  Thanks for being honest.  When you feel like you’re ready to give dating another shot – think of me?”
It’s a generous and gentlemanly response; you really couldn’t ask for anything more.  The two of you part ways with a light hug outside the restaurant; Mark offers to call you a cab, but you let him know you’ll be fine, and wave appreciatively as he drives away in the car the valet brings him. 
Sighing a heavy sigh, you’re just thinking it might be best if you send Jen a message to let her know how the date went before Mark does when you hear a crash coming from the alleyway next to the restaurant.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you walk over to the side of the building and peek around the corner; there in the alley is the occupier of all your current thoughts, Din, kicking garbage cans in frustration.  When you see him punch the brick wall of the building and shake out his fist, your legs carry you to him as if on instinct – unable to see Din hurt without the urge rising to comfort and soothe him.
Din has both of his palms up against the wall when you close in on him, leaning his weight against his hands with his eyes closed, breathing heavy.
“Din?  Are you okay?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him.
He looks up, surprised at your appearance – eyes stormy, the rich browns of his irises full of emotion, “I’m okay, pretty bird.”
Pretty bird.  Your heart swells at the familiar term of endearment that you thought you’d never hear again.  It’s like music to your ears.
“This doesn’t look okay,” you gently pull the hand that you saw him shake in pain away from the wall, turning it over and cradling it in your hands - gasping a little when you see his knuckles scraped and bleeding.  Din watches your pretty face cloud with concern as you take a handkerchief from your purse and delicately wrap it around his wounded hand; tying it snugly against his palm before turning his hand over and bringing his knuckles to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against the makeshift bandage.
“Thank you, baby.”
You’re looking at him with such a sweet expression that Din’s heart starts to ache again; he has to remind himself that your concern isn’t really for him particularly – it’s just your kind nature, “Where’s your date?  Did he go and get the car or something?”
You shrug good naturedly, “I sent him home.  Would you mind putting me in a cab, Din?”
“Of course.” As Din walks with you back towards the street, his injured hand rests protectively on your lower back and the gesture causes a chill to run up your spine.
It’s not in uncomfortable silence that the two of you wait on the curb, but Din is afraid that if he doesn’t engage you in some type of conversation, you and this moment will disappear before his mind registers it as being real, “Why did you send your date home?  Did he try something?” His eyes darken.
You shake your head lightly; Din’s protective nature is exactly as you remember - you’ve missed it, “No, nothing like that.  He was fine, really.”  You can’t deny it any longer, you’ve missed him, “He just wasn’t… you.”  With this admission you look up at Din and search his eyes – does he miss you too?
“Oh, pretty bird,” Din manages to breathe out before he descends on your mouth, kissing you fully and so full of longing and desperation he’s afraid he might actually break you.  Your arms fly up of their own accord and wrap around Din’s neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer; your fingers thread and tug at the loose curls at the nape of his neck and you long to run your hands through his hair again - you refrain, not wanting to mess up his hairstyle.  He’s yours and you’re his again in this kiss – every brush of your lips, every step in the dance of your tongues a testament to how much you’ve missed each other.
You’re melting.  Melting into Din’s strong arms and the safety of his hold, reveling in the warmth of his affections.  It’s like you’ve never left, his body molds to yours, fitting so right – pressed flushed against Din, you dare anything to try and get between the two of you right now.
Parting reluctantly when you hear the slow crunch of tires coming to a stop next to you, Din kisses your forehead gently before seeing you into the backseat of the cab.  When you see him open the passenger side door and speak to the driver, you recall with a surge of affection that cab ride after Katie’s birthday when you and Din reconnected after your brief separation.  Once again, Din tells the driver your address and emphasizes the importance of getting you home safely, punctuating his point with an overly generous tip.  Your heart swells at the memory – the déjà vu driving home how everything about your relationship had been real.
When Din comes back to see you in the backseat, your eyes are bright and full of feeling – he’s here, the sweet man who always takes care of everyone, who only every wanted to take care of you; he’s right here in front of you again.  Bringing your hand up to Din’s cheek, your heart soars when he leans into your palm with a smile; the soft feel and weight of his face familiar and comforting.
“Din, I know you didn’t sleep with Vanessa,” you say simply with no room for argument – a simple fact.  Now that you’ve said it out loud, it seems so fucking obvious.  How could you have ever believed that this man could have been capable of such a betrayal?
Simplicity and truth are all that Din can afford as well, “Of course not.  How could I ever want anyone else when I had you?  The perfect woman.  You’re the love of my life, pretty bird.  Would never cheat on you.”
The sincerity of his words brings tears to your eyes, “Then why, Din?  Why would you want me to think that you had?”
You look so confused and sad; for the billionth time, Din chastises his past self for his dumb decisions, “Needed you to hate me, pretty bird.  Needed you to stay away from me.  It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Though this answer is vague, your response is relayed with certainty; hands cupping Din’s face, “I’m safest with you, Din.”
The kiss that Din presses to your lips at this declaration is achingly desperate, as if he’s trying to brush away all his past mistakes and wipe clean the hurt he’s caused.  He loves you.  You can feel it in every stroke of his tongue over yours, and in the way his teeth nip and nibble at your lower lip.
You’ve missed his mouth, his touch, and everything Din – and judging by the way his hands cradle your face and the deep emotions swirling in the richness of brown eyes, Din’s missed you just as much.  The two of you hold each other, foreheads pressed together for closeness, breathing in the other’s air as you soak in this togetherness that neither of you ever thought you’d experience again.
Finally, remembering what that last cab ride led to, you whisper, “Din, will you come over tonight?”
There’s a pause as Din’s brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut.  This moment of tenderness with you, one where you don’t hate him, has been more than he deserves.  But it’s a fantasy, a mirage – the reports of escalating violence he listened to during tonight’s meeting still fresh in his mind, Din shakes his head in frustration.  Based on what had been disclosed in the meeting, he can’t help but think that it’s working – everything he’s done to remove the target on your back is working; he can’t throw away your safety just so he can have this feeling again.  That would be too risky.  Selfish.
“Pretty bird, I can’t do that.  I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand, Din,” your voice breaks at his latest rejection and the sound tears Din in two.
He lifts your chin with his fingers so that you’ll look at him though the tears that are already starting to form in your beautiful eyes, “Baby, please understand.  We can’t.  We can’t be together – you deserve better than this, than me.  Being with me puts you in unnecessary danger.  My deepest fear is that you get hurt and I can’t… I won’t let that happen.”
“You’re hurting me right now, Din,” your voice small, sad.
Din knows he is, but he has to stay strong and resolved for your sake, even if this short respite from the dull ache of his everyday existence has been a heaven beyond his imagination, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I really am.  I love you, I love you.  But you deserve better.”
You say nothing but the few tears that roll down your cheeks speak volumes.  With great difficulty, Din says a wordless goodbye with kisses to your hair, then both of your hands before letting them and you go.  He knocks on the top of the cab to let the driver know he can leave; as the taxi drives away, he sees your hurt face looking back at him and it nearly brings him to his knees. 
Pressing the heels of his palm to his eyes, Din lets out a loud growl of frustration.  Taking several deep breaths before going back in to rejoin the Family meeting, he repeats to himself a mantra that he has to believe – This is the right thing.  The most important thing is that she’s safe.  Staying away from her keeps her safe.
---
Din’s resolve lasts exactly two days.
---
It takes you only the duration of the cab ride home to get over the sting of Din’s rejection.  Yes, the emotional whiplash of having him tell you that he loves you only for him say that it doesn’t change anything between the two of you hurt, but by the time you’ve taken Al out and finished getting ready for bed, your hurt feelings have been replaced by fresh purpose and determination. 
You finally have some answers.  Somehow Din has convinced himself that being apart from him is for your benefit and he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for it.  The problem for you is that he’s also willing to sacrifice yours. 
There’s a part of you that is livid about this, but you’re keeping this particular emotion at bay for the present moment with your newfound conviction to get to the bottom of what’s going on; you’ll get the answers you seek before you decide how you’re going to feel about it all.
You spend most of the weekend turning over the events of the last five months in your head, looking at them with a new perspective after the revelations from the past four days; mentally preparing a list of things that Din owes you explanations for and talking yourself in and out of how you’ll demand them of him. 
By some twist of fate, your regular Sunday brunch has been cancelled for the first time in forever, with several of your friends unable to make it – you can’t decide if this is in your favour or not.
On one hand, you could really use their opinions and a sounding board for your rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions; on the other hand, you suspect that Din is currently not your friends’ favourite person and you could probably do without the barrage of insults that would inevitably be thrown about as a reaction to his and Vanessa’s confessions from this past week.  Not that Din didn’t deserve them, but rather they wouldn’t help you work out what you need to do next.
By Sunday afternoon you’re sure of a few things:
Din loves you.
He has always loved you and he never stopped.
You love him, too.
He truly believed that being with him put you in danger.
What you didn’t know:
How could it be that he loved you so deeply but could so readily leave you?  Not just initially five months ago, but again, not two days earlier?
What gave him the right to decide what was best for you? 
Did he really think it acceptable to keep you in the dark about things that he clearly believed impacted your life so significantly?
The details of what prompted Din to act the way he did don’t interest you as much as why it led him to behave so unsympathetically for the past five months.  The more you think about it, the harder it is for you sit still and wait out the indetermined amount of time needed before you get your answers.
On Sunday night, you make the decision to head down to Mando’s yourself after work one day this week.  Feeling confident in your decided course of action, you’re as satisfied as you can be with the situation when you hear a knock on your door.
---
This is too easy.
Din mutters to himself as he walks through the parking garage beneath your apartment building undetected.  It was entirely too easy for him to gain entry into the garage and avoid the security cameras on his way to the internal stairwell.  He makes a mental note to talk to Paz about this gap in security as he’s taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. 
He had tried to stay away, he really had.  But just as Din had always known, without the deterrent of you hating him and the surety that you would push him away, he had only his own self control to keep him from seeking you out, and that had crumbled under your loving touch outside the restaurant on Friday.
It had been too long since Din had gone without the feel of your soft lips pressed to his or basked in the warmth of your soft gaze and he had positively melted from both when he saw you after your date.  Like an addict in recovery, the high from his relapse was too intense to ignore; he simply could not be kept from you any longer.
He barely recalls what happened after going back into the restaurant on Friday and finishing the Family meeting.  Or how he got through Saturday at the gym, trying to slog through this month’s invoicing and attempting (unsuccessfully) to concentrate on Jimmy’s training.  Don’t even ask him what he did today.  All he knows is that after nightfall, his body drove his truck over to your neighbourhood and his feet carried him straight to your door.
Unsure of what type of reception he’ll receive if you open the door, Din doesn’t even know what he expects, only what he wants: you.
Your door opens with you already ready for bed, blinking at him with an unreadable expression.  Din thinks he should speak first and lets Al buy him some time when he noses out, nuzzling his snoot into Din’s large hands.  After giving your happy pup a few head rubs to show him how much he’s been missed, Din straightens up to look at you again; he opens his mouth to say something, though he doesn’t know what - and he never finds out because you kiss him.
You hadn’t expected to see Din before your planned confrontation, and you certainly didn’t think you’d see him at your door looking so soft and vulnerable.  After he had dispensed some love to Al, the expression in Din’s eyes when he raised himself back up to his impressive height was that of a much smaller man.  One who was unsure, ashamed.
To see Din like this takes all the wind out of the proverbial sails you had hoisted high over the last two days, the ones you had readied in anticipation of the fight you were bringing to his doorstep this week.  And just like before, when faced with seeing Din in distress, your mind, heart and body ache to soothe and calm him - so you do what comes naturally and press your lips to his.
Din’s lips never leave yours.  Not when you walk him inside your apartment and close the door, and not when he familiarly navigates the layout of your living room to sit on the couch and pull you down onto his lap.  He won’t stop brushing his desperate mouth against your perfectly plush pout, the one he dreams about regularly, even as he murmurs the only two phrases he needs to know you understand:
I’m sorry, baby.
I love you, pretty bird.
You match Din kiss for kiss, “I know.  I know, Din” as you undress first yourself, then the man whose touch you’ve been yearning for for nearly half a year and whose weight you long to be under again.  Your body cries out, remembering the feel of the corded muscles of his strong arms and the comfort of his hard chest; your hands molds to Din’s body as they roam and explore, afraid if you release him he’ll be ripped away from you again.  On Din’s part, even as his mouth becomes more insistent, his touch on your body remains gentle, reverent – where you’re urgent and possessive, he is worshipful.  And still, he recites:
I’m sorry, baby.
I love you, pretty bird.
With Din owning your mouth, your moans of I know, I know, I know are swallowed and vibrate down into his chest - setting his heart on fire and quickening his pulse even as he kisses deeper and steals all your air.
Feeling him lick into your mouth, you whimper ‘Din, please’ and the sound of his name once again on your lips makes Din’s dick jump.  He grabs you tight around the waist, holding you to him to continue fully exploring the open, moaning cavern of your mouth, conveying his devotion with each caress and massage of his tongue.  How could he have ever let you go?  You show Din that you don’t want him to do so ever again by meeting his every touch, every kiss, every guttural needy noise with a hungrier one of your own.
It’s been too long and your hearts and bodies have missed each other too much; Din is already hard and throbbing against where you’re wet and wanting.  Everything is hurried, messy, and inelegant.  You need each other and that’s all there is to it.
Overcome with your own greediness, you murmur, “Need you inside, baby.”
As Din’s entire body melts into a puddle at your words, every muscle in his broad frame relaxes and all his power and control evaporate in the face of his one and only fantasy coming to life; only snapped out of his euphoric state by the sensation of you smearing his leaking precum over his length with your soft hands - Din thinks he might come from this alone.  He’s craved your touch every moment since that fateful night outside his apartment, but he holds back for the heaven he knows is to come when you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down.
It’s really has been too long – Din’s too big and you’re too tight and there hasn’t been enough prep; it hurts.  But somehow it’s welcomed - both of you needing it to hurt, wanting it to hurt, so you know it’s real.
“Nggghhhh – fuck, Din, so big,” you whine as he stretches you out - he’s bigger than you remember.  He feels better than you remember.
“I know, pretty bird.  But it’ll fit,” Din hums, “because you’re made for me.”
His sweet words belie the sting to your tight channel, but the joy that overflows from your heart straight to you core soon drowns out the pain; this is how it was always meant to be: you trusting your body to Din, and Din taking care of you.  Slowly, slowly, your sheath yourself onto Din’s cock – fitted so close that you feel every thick vein and groove along your warm walls. 
Din’s kisses are gentler now, tender and reassuring like his words, “Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” “You feel so perfect around me,” “Love this tight cunt, missed her so much.”
His praise causes your pussy to gush and your hands card through his soft curls appreciatively.  Gazing into Din’s eyes lovingly, you coo back your own song, “Feels so good, daddy,” “God, I’m so full,” “Noone wrecks this pussy like you, baby.”
When you’re finally fully seated, with Din bottomed out inside you, his balls nestled perfectly under your ass, the two of you simply just rest.  Countless minutes go by so you can relearn to breathe and Din thanks his lucky stars for the privilege of praying at your altar once more.
Fully blissed out and body trembling upon remembering its rightful place on Din’s cock, you whisper, “Din, please move.” And move he does.
Slowly and with the restraint of a saint, Din thrusts up to meet your tentative downward movements, dragging his cock deliciously in and out of your tight cunt, letting her suck him back in of her own volition.  You wrap your arms around his neck and feel Din’s sensual kisses on your lips, down your neck, and at the hollows of your throat; the wet trail his mouth leaves behind causes an electric chill to run throughout your entire body, your hips bucking a little harder, a little more ambitious in response.
There’s no rush, the two of you have all the time in the world to enjoy your reunion, and yet there’s an urgency - a hunger to devour as much of one another as you can, both starved from your time apart.  The need to make up for lost time takes over; every kiss of skin on skin is an apology and a promise, your declarations of love becoming louder and more unabashed, movements more fervent, frantic.
Din groans into your skin, “Pretty bird, not going to last.  Missed you too much,” as he starts to punch up with an impressive force, driving his cock deeper into your cunt and reaching that spot that only he’s ever been able to find.
“Give it to me, daddy,” you mewl, barrelling towards to your own orgasm faster than you had expected, “Need it.  Need you.  I love you, I love you, I love you.”  This is the first time you’ve said it back tonight, and the only time Din’s heard these sweet words in the musical lilt of your voice in last five mouths – this alone sends him on the fast track to the edge.
He snakes one hand between your bodies to find your already pulsating clit and starts to pen a long overdue love letter with his thumb.  Din’s other arm pulls your body as close to his as possible, so you’re now pressed flushed against his warm chest, moving with him as one.
I’m sorry, baby.  I love you, pretty bird.  I love you.
I love you, Din.  Missed you so much.  I love you.
You come - teary eyes locked onto Din’s as he signs over his fate with an elegant signature on your clit.  Your slippery nub kisses his thumb back just as hard, crying and begging for relief as you clench down from the onslaught of pleasure that only Din can give you.  Din spills deep into you as your pussy chokes him, milking the euphoria of his release for all it’s worth.  He’s in heaven.  You’re his heaven.
Wordlessly, you and Din exchange soft smiles and besotted looks as you clean-up after; a string of never-ending tender kisses lead the two of you back to the couch where you lay down in Din’s arms, sated and pliant, soaking in the strength and sureness with which he holds you, “Din, we need to talk.”
“I know, pretty bird,” he’s ready to tell you everything, lay it all bare for you. 
Propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look Din in the eye, you implore him to be honest with you, “You said you needed me to hate you.  That it was the only way to keep me safe.  What were you talking about?”
Din tells you about the photos that the Family received which had been received as threats and the various confrontations and incidents of harassment in the months following that confirmed them as such.  He tells you how scared he’s been for you, and how guilty and sorry he is that you were ever caught up in his world in this terrifying way.
Forcing himself not to look away from your pretty face when he sees it line with fear, Din tells you that he never wanted you to feel frightened or for your life to be interrupted, “You’re safe, pretty bird, I promise.  You’re well protected - the entire Fett Family is looking out for you.  They love you as much as I do.  The Family would never abandon you.”
“Just you then?” It wasn’t meant as a sarcastic or passive aggressive comment, but you just honestly can’t see what this had to do with why Din left you.  If anything, wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to stay by your side?
Regardless of your meaning, Din looks pained at your question and averts his eyes in shame.
“I understand that you were afraid for me because of the threats, but if the Family was willing to protect me, I still don’t understand why you would need me to hate you to be safe?”
“You should never have been in danger at all, baby.  The reason you’re a target is because of me.  Whoever issued the threats only targeted you because… because, they knew how much you mean to me.  How much I love you.  It wasn’t enough just to protect you from the threat, I didn’t want you to be under threat at all.  That’s the only way to guarantee you would be safe.”
You stroke Din’s face with your hand, and he leans in to your comforting touch and closes his eyes.
“If you hated me, then you would no longer be a worthy target.  The person they really want to hurt is me, and if we weren’t together anymore, they can’t do that through you.”  Din sighs, “But I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  The way I went out about it was all wrong - hurting you like I did is inexcusable and it shattered my heart to do so.  You didn’t deserve to think I cheated on you.”
Your heart softens and you lean in to lay gentle, sympathetic kisses to Din’s soft lips.  Finally, finally you understand.  Though you don’t excuse the hurt he caused, you can understand Din’s fallacious reasoning; in an odd way, it’s a relief to see him so unchanged – his actions ever consistent with his self-sacrificing nature and his conviction to take care of those he loves, to keep them safe.  The only thing is, his was not the only heart he had sacrificed.
“I thought you never loved me,” you say in a small voice, “when I thought you had cheated on me, it made me question our entire relationship.”
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Din’s shame and self-anger triple upon hearing your words.  He had expected you to be angry, to hate him for the lie he had you believe, but he never considered that you would have doubted what he felt for you prior to that horrible night.  Secure in the depth of his own devotion and the truth of just how in love with you he was, Din had thought what was unshakeable to him would be the same for you; but of course, now that you’ve said it, it makes complete sense and he adds this egregious transgression against you to his long list of regrets, “I’m so fucking sorry.  I never thought- oh, fuck.  It never crossed my mind that you might ever doubt how so completely in love with you I’ve always been.  From the moment I met you it was over for me, baby – you became the single most important person in my life.  I live for you, pretty bird.  I’m so sorry I ever made you feel any differently.”
Din looks at you with so much sincerity and desperation, you heart is unable to do anything but believe him.  You know without a shadow of a doubt that Din loves you and moreover, that everything he’s done has been in the name of that love.  And though you trust in his pure intentions, they’re misguided in a way that you have to make him understand.  If the two of you are to have a chance again, you need honesty and openness, and Din has to have faith in that same love when things get tough.
You’re lightly scratching Din’s facial scruff the way you know he loves, wanting to just enjoy this affectionate moment a little longer before you dive into the more serious things you need to talk about when you both hear Din’s phone start to buzz incessantly. 
Din reaches his long arm off the couch and easily finds his discarded pants and pulls out his phone, frowning when he sees the multiple notifications on his lock screen.
His entire body tenses as he reads Paz’s messages.
Hutt movement three blocks away from Lil’ Lady’s.
Woves confirms the group is growing.
Mods say traffic cams show more on the way. 
Din feels a stab of fear tear through his chest before the horror of what he’s done settles like a boulder in his stomach.
For the five months that Din had left you alone, there hadn’t even been a hint of suspicious activity anywhere near you.  No appearance of shady characters or any incidents of malfeasance, not a single one.  You had been safe.
What had changed tonight?  What could have possibly happened to incite a flurry of rival gang activity so close to your home when it had never previously been an issue?
It was him.  What had changed is he had been weak.  He had given in to his need for you, selfishly putting you in harm’s way.  Din realizes he had been right: staying away from you had been keeping you safe.  He gets up suddenly, the need to rectify his mistake overwhelming.
“Din?”
Din’s hurrying putting on his clothes and doesn’t answer you.  He doesn’t hear you get up from the couch after him and grab a house cardigan from the back of one of the dining room chairs to throw over yourself, watching as he carries on to leave without saying a word.
“STOP!!”
You hardly ever yell.  And you never slam your hand down on your dining table so hard and loud it hurts, but you need to get Din’s attention somehow.  It works - Din’s shocked out of his automated movements and turns to face you.
“What are you doing, Din?” you look distressed, confused, but most of all, frightened by what you think you already know is happening.
“This was a mistake, pretty bird.”
His words cause you to recoil; your voice comes out tight, bordering on bitter, “What was a mistake, Din?  Telling me you loved me, that you lived for me?  Or sleeping with me?  Tell me, which mistake do you mean?” 
Din rushes forward; he’s fucking up all over, he can tell, and hurting you again is the very last thing he ever wanted to do, “No, baby – none of that was a mistake.  Being with you tonight has been a happiness I never thought I’d feel again.  Honestly, I didn’t think I deserved it and still don’t think I do.  The mistake was me somehow thinking that everything was behind us.  That I wouldn’t be putting your safety at risk by coming over here.”
He can’t possibly be doing this again, you’re incredulous, “You’re doing this again?  You’re going to leave?  And I don’t get a say in it?”
“Pretty bird, you don’t understand.”
“Make me understand, Din.”
“There’s something happening right now, a danger that’s closer to you than should ever be allowed.  And it’s because I’m here.  This is proof that I’m no good for you baby.”
“Din, how can you say that?  I love you.”
“And I have to keep you safe because I love you, too.”
“What you’re doing is breaking my heart, Din. This isn’t the only way - you have to trust me.”
“This isn’t about trust, pretty bird, it’s about your safety.”
“Of course it’s about trust, Din!  You don’t trust me to be able to handle some of the things in your life – things that you think I’m too delicate or ‘good’ for, whatever the fuck that means.  You don’t trust me so you don’t tell me anything or let me make any decisions, and that’s really fucking condescending and hurtful.  You have to trust me, Din!  You have to trust that you can show me parts of yourself and your world that maybe aren’t perfect or you aren’t that proud of and that I’m not going to leave!  You have to trust that I love you enough!”
The silence between the two of you is punctuated only by your shallow breathing from finishing your speech and the electric tension that now hums in the air.  Something in Din’s brain is awakening, yelling at him that there’s a truth in your words that he hasn’t had the courage to face – that other than your safety, he’s been worried that bringing you fully into his world and telling you everything, sharing in all the fears and dark parts, would scare you away.  That he’s been afraid that you would walk away, so he did it first.
Din doesn’t know if he’s ready to face this realization or its implications out loud, not when you’re looking at him with so much disappointment and anger.  Not when the phone in his pocket continues to buzz non-stop.
You’re at your wit’s end and throw out ludicrously, “So, what?  We stay apart until you deem it safe again?  Then what, we’re allowed to date until the next time you think it’s safer for me if you leave?  And then we just repeat this pattern forever?”
Din’s exasperated too, frustrated with the unexpected turn this evening has taken – at himself.  He throws his hands up in the air, “I don’t know, okay?  I just know it’s not safe for you to be my girl right now.  And as for later?  May not then either?  Maybe you just don’t wait for me.”
You freeze, the retort on the tip of your tongue that you’re supposed to be a team and that Din doesn’t get to choose for the both of you, dissipates from your shock at his last words, “Wait. What do you mean ‘don’t wait for you’?”
Din doesn’t immediately clarify so you press on, “You would be okay with that?  If I moved on with someone else? Is that what you want?”
Din wants to reassure you; it’s not what he meant, of course.  His heart would shatter if you were with someone else; he had only meant that he knew it was terribly unfair for you to have to wait for this situation to resolve itself, and he didn’t want to force you to be or assume that you were okay with it – but it had come out wrong.  He stops himself from explaining though; realizing with a punch to the gut that he could use this to give you a clean slate, a clean break from him.  You would hate him again – but it would remove the temptation to come see you in secret like tonight, endangering your safety every time he was too weak to stay away from you.  So, he says nothing.
You take his silence the way he intends, as confirmation that Din doesn’t want you anymore and your tears come fast and threaten to overflow.   You’re angry, confused, and hurt.  Again. 
The barrier you had put up earlier when you so logically decided to figure out your feelings once you figured out the truth comes crashing down and you think you’re going to drown in the tidal wave of emotions that swell and rise with being so casually tossed away again.  You feel like a fool, letting Din toy with your feelings (and your body) over and over.
“Din.  Is that what you want?  Do you just want us to be over?” you choke out.
Din’s expression is unreadable and he won’t make eye contact with you - but when he sighs, it’s the most devasting sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 
Your cheeks are wet and you feel yourself shaking.  The words that are blabbering out now hardly make sense and you don’t think you even mean half of them, but you aren’t thinking straight - you just know these words will sting and make Din feel as bad as you do right now, “Why did you come tonight, Din? For an easy fuck?  You knew you would find guaranteed pussy here, didn’t you?  I can’t blame you, I guess. I mean, if you know you always have a desperate slut you can use, someone who’s stupid enough to buy whatever lies you tell her to get her to give it up, why not, right?”
Suddenly aware of how exposed you are, you pull your cardigan tighter over your body and shrink away from Din.
Din reaches for you - this, he cannot have.  He cannot have you reducing yourself to just a worthless fuck when you’re his sun.  He loves you more than anything, would hang the moon for you; you’re the most incredible and precious thing in his life, “No, no… that’s not it.  Please, pretty bird, don’t…”
You pull away from his outreaching hand and say in a flat, dead tone, “I’m not your pretty bird anymore.” 
Even Din can see that he’s hit your limit - hurt you beyond repair and now you’ve shut down.  Shut him out.  Fighting ever fibre in his body to go to you, soothe you and try to  reassure you of his love, he hangs his head, “No. You’re right… you’re not.”
The two of you stand in silence, facing each other but worlds apart, for what is probably only a minute but feels like forever.  Finally, Din turns to the front door to leave; pausing just after turning the handle, he whispers, “I’m sorry”, before exiting your apartment and closing the door behind him.
Once in the hallway, Din hears the lock turn immediately, followed by the most devastating sound he’s ever heard.  You’re sobbing, loud enough that he can hear it through the door and he wants more than anything to kick down the door and sweep you into his arms, take it all back - comfort you with kisses and lightly chastise you for even considering for a moment that he could ever stop loving you. 
But he doesn’t.  It’s better this way, Din tells himself. 
The sound of your sobs follows Din as he races down the stairs, towards the danger that lurks too closer for comfort.  He’s more than ready to take out his distress on the bastards who had deigned to look upon you as someone to threaten, to hurt - or just some unfortunate Hutts who found themselves in the wrong neighbourhood tonight.  Din doesn’t much care.  Blinking back his tears and steeling his resolve with clenched fists, all Din knows is you won’t be the only person he hurts tonight – you’re just the only one who doesn’t deserve it.
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Exactly one week later, you storm into brunch still angry, exhausted and hurt from your altercation with Din the Sunday before; hot tears brim along your lash line from the humiliation of having slept with Din only for him to leave you again, and your frustration at his dismissal of any attempt to talk out your issues.  The only sure-fire thing you’ve decided is that there will be no more secrets - no more half truths, no more protecting people from hard and ugly realities.  Sure, you would have much preferred if this was the road upon which you and Din were embarking, but in lieu of that, you decide that you can come clean with your friends.  You tell them about the Fett Family and Din’s old role, and what he seems to still do for the Family.  You tell your friends about Poe, Boba, Cass, the Hutts and the Pykes, and the Mandos and the Mods.  You tell them about all the security incidents from earlier in the year and the threats you only just learned of and about Din’s and your place in it all.  You tell them about your run-in with Vanessa and how your date with Mark went and about sleeping with Din last week.  You tell them everything that’s yours to tell and even somethings that aren’t because you’re done with pretending that these secrets are worth keeping and somehow worth your happiness.
Your friends are speechless; all the food, and shockingly the drinks, are untouched as you talk and only after you indicate you’re done with your recollection of how Din left you crying in your foyer, do they descend on you to offer their kind supportive words and loving hugs.  Once everyone is settled back in their seats and people’s emotions have leveled out a bit, Rory asks,
“Do you still love him?”
It’s not the question you expected from her, or from any of your friends really, and it truly deflates you as you lean back in your chair to contemplate your response.  The last week saw you primarily cataloguing Din’s transgressions against your heart; it’s a long list and it had kept your mind and heart fairly preoccupied.  You’re furious at him… but did his foolhardy actions change the man you believed he was?  The man you had loved?  You answer only what you’re sure of,
“It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t seem to matter to him what I think or feel.  Din just does what he thinks is best.”
Your friends nod sympathetically, understanding you’re already fighting a seemingly endless battle between your head and your heart.  They thoughtfully put forth their opinions in between bites of their now cold dishes:
“No matter what his reasoning is, it doesn’t give him the right to jerk you around in the name of ‘your safety’.”
“Does he have a point though?  Is it dangerous to be with him? Are you scared?”
“Won’t the Family protect you?  Why is he acting like he’s the only one who cares about you?”
“I don’t like that he hurt you on purpose with that Vanessa nonsense.  That lie was so elaborate.”
“How many times does he think he can do this to you?”
“You deserve someone who is honest with you.  Someone who will treat you like an equal partner in everything.”
“He loves you so much.  It’s always been clear to us that you’re his whole world, babe.”
You agree with it all – these same thoughts have been running laps in your mind since the night Din closed your door behind him.  Din’s martyr-like approach to your safety did not sit well with you, especially when it sacrificed the wellbeing of your heart without so much as a consultation of your feelings; it’s crystal clear to you now that entirely too many lies and secrets had been justified and tolerated in the last several months and even your relationship prior.  Yes, you know how you feel about what Din did.
But how do you feel about him?  To a certain degree, you know you still love Din, but things just aren’t that simple anymore.  Given everything that’s happened, how can you feel about him?  You don’t know.
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6 months ATN
Waiting until there’s a break in the traffic, you cross the street quickly, heading straight for the bookstore across from your office building.  Right away, you spot the display you’re looking for: the centre table for “Current Hot Reads” with Bea’s book right in the middle - you can’t help but grin widely.  Picking up four copies, you busy yourself for a few minutes straightening up the display - strategically stacking and propping up copies of your friend’s book so it stands out in a pleasing manner amongst the other titles.  When you stand back, satisfied, to review your work, a kind voice behind you says, “Are you the author, dear?” You turn to see an older woman in a delightfully ostentatious fur coat smiling at you.
Unable to keep the pride out of your voice, you beam, “Ha ha ha!  No, one of my best friends is!  I’m actually buying these as gifts to give out to our mutual girlfriends at dinner tonight!”
“Oh, that’s so lovely dear!  What a good friend you are!” the lady smiles, “What is the book about?”
“It’s a modern romance, childhood best friends turned lovers.  The first in her series!” you gush, ready to talk Bea up to the high heavens.
“Oh lovely!  My granddaughter loves romance novels, maybe I should get it for her?”
For a moment you simply imagine what the granddaughter might think when reading the smut her sweet nana bought her and you do your best to hold in your chuckle, “Tell you what.  I’m going to buy an extra copy and leave it at the cashier for you.  If you decide you don’t want it or prefer to buy a copy, just tell the cashier to pass it on to the next person who’s interested.”
“Oh dear, you don’t have to do that!”
“I know!  But I want to!  I can’t tell you how much it delights me to support my friend.  Please ask your granddaughter to help spread the word about the book and the author.  I know she’ll love it, it really is just that good,” you enthuse.
The older woman squeezes your hand in thanks as you pick up a fifth copy of Bea’s book; leaving her to read the jacket summary as you head to the cashier.  After giving the cashier the instructions for the last copy, you give the display another quick once over before leaving the bookstore, heading directly to dinner with a spring in your step.
---
Din sees you the moment you walk in.  For some reason, maybe a sixth sense, he had looked up at the bookstore front door before it opened, and there you were.  He hasn’t seen you since the night he left you crying in your apartment, the same night he sent half of the Hutt enforcements to the hospital; when he accepted this surveillance post for the day, he had half hoped he would see you.  You’re just as stunning and bright as the you he keeps in his memories, if not more so.
He had also seen the display of Bea’s books when he walked in and already picked up a copy to buy in support; he figured he would give it to Lisa.  Din watches you rearrange the display from behind the shelves, trying not to be a creep but unable to take his eyes off of you – wistfully, he recalls seeing you do the same thing on the day you first met; it’s no less charming now than it was then.  Listening with a smile as you talk excitedly to the older lady about Bea’s book, Din’s heart swells when he hears you offer to buy her granddaughter a copy.  You’re still you.  Sweet, generous, unassuming, and unflinchingly kind.
God, he misses you.
He’s been trying to put you out of his mind, of course; positive that he’s eradicated not only any goodwill or affectionate feeling you may have held for him a few months ago, but also any chance he had of ever being with you again.  Whereas before he kept away for your safety and his own self punishment, he does so now out of self preservation.  To steel himself for his future without you.
Din does, however, allow himself one photo of you.  It’s one that Paz took the night of the fight with Rotta Hutt.  Taken right after he’s scooped you up ringside, the shot shows only the back of Din’s head, but your face is on full display, filled with joy and adoration.  He looks at it everyday; trying not to long for you more than he already does, Din comes to regard it as motivation of sorts – this is what makes all his misery worth it, he thinks to himself.  You.  Happy.
And while he can’t bring himself to delete his photos of you off his phone, or even erase your old messages, Din never looks at them either.  He doesn’t deserve to.  Especially not the dirty texts and photos; he doesn’t have a right to see you that way anymore - as much as he misses you, Din won’t violate your privacy.  But on the days when the pressure, stress and Din’s own loneliness lead him to release his frustration while in the shower, he imagines a soft hand touching him and knows it’s yours.  The voice that he hears telling him how good it feels, he knows is yours.  The moans that ring in his ears as he furiously fucks his fist can only be yours.  And when he comes, choking out broken pants of I love you, I love you, I fucking loving you so much, those words are for you and you only.
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Seven months ATN
Opening your guest room closet, you sigh to yourself. 
It’s time. 
You’ve been avoiding doing this, but not only is it long overdue, you’re also embarrassed at how anxious you’ve been to attempt this task.  It’s been two months since Din left you crying on your knees in the front foyer of your apartment and seven since you fled his apartment after believing he had cheated on you.  In that hazy first week, you had gone around the apartment grabbing anything that belonged to him and stuffed it into what ended up being an overflowing bin that you then shoved into the back of the guest room closet.  Out of sight, out of mind.
But you have guests coming to stay next week, and moreover, it bothers you how rude it is to have kept these belongings that aren’t yours.  It was one thing when Din had been a lying cheating bastard; but now that you know he hadn’t had any ill intent and was as much of a victim of his poor decisions as you are, it doesn’t feel right to hang on to these items.  Bringing home some flat packing boxes from the work mailroom, you assemble them first, trying to prolong actually having to go through your ex’s things.
Stop being a chicken shit, you chide yourself, it’s been months.  Get over it and get it over with. You pull the bin out of the closet and his smell, Din’s smell, immediately hits you when you when you start to take out the clothes.  You close your eyes and let yourself breathe in the familiar scent.  It’s as inviting as you remember and immediately brings his handsome visage to your mind.  When you open your eyes, they’re filled with tears.  Dammit.
You force yourself to work through your tears.  Fighting it at first but eventually allowing yourself to recall memories associated with Din’s items, you feel and expunge all the emotions you had hidden away like you had these belongings.  It’s cathartic and freeing, and once you’ve shed the tears you need, you make quick work of the task.  When you’ve filled the last box, you write a short note apologizing how long it’s taken to return these items and quickly tape up the boxes so that the contents are once again out of your sight.
---
The following weekend, you and Katie take a cab with the boxes to Din’s neighbourhood.  You don’t think you’re ready to see Din in person, but you think you can handle dropping off the boxes… at Peli’s.  Katie helps you carry the boxes from the taxi into the drycleaner’s and you ring the little bell Peli leaves out when she’s in the back working with the machines.  You see her bushy crown of curls before you do her inviting face, the smile she smiles when she sees you is brighter than the sun.  You feel warmed just seeing her again.
“Well, look who it is,” Peli grins, eyes full of genuine cheer and relief, “long time no see.”
Nodding, your heart feels a tug with how much you’ve missed Peli and all the other friends you made through Din who you haven’t seen in months, “Too long, Peli!”
“Glad you can admit you missed me,” she teases, holding absolutely nothing against you, “what can I do for you?  Don’t tell me those boxes are full of drycleaning?”
“Oh… no.  Could I ask you for a favour?” sheepish that the very first time you see Peli after such a long absence, you’re asking something her.
Peli’s good nature isn’t phased for even a second, “Of course!  Anything for you, love.”
Then as if some higher being heard your request before you had a chance to speak it, Paz walks through the front door of the drycleaners.  He’s just as surprised to see you as you are him, but readily leans in to give you and Katie welcoming hugs.
“Hi Lil’ Lady.  Whatcha doing here?”
You gesture to the boxes and look between Peli and Paz, “Just wanted to drop off Din’s things but…  I didn’t feel up to going to Mando’s.  Do you think I could trouble you to get these boxes to him?”
Peli looks shocked, and for a moment you wonder if it’s possible that she didn’t know that you and Din haven’t been together for over half a year now.  Paz saves you from the potentially long and awkward explanation by nodding with some sympathy, “No problem, I’ll carry them over.”
“Thank you, Paz.”
“No problem, Lil’ Lady,” Paz gives you a smile that looks regretful, maybe even sad.
You turn to go, but suddenly feel compelled to make one last request, “Please don’t tell Din you saw me?  I don’t want him thinking about me anymore.”  You say this without any malice or bitterness, though you’re not convinced it comes out that way.
When going through Din’s belongings, you were initially hard hit by the waves of sadness and grief from the loss of your relationship; but after letting the ache of your heart dull, you had surprising found comfort in a barrage of happy memories:
Din’s favourite basketball team shirt you slept in.  You had teased him mercilessly for how often he wore it, but showered him in compliments at how good he looked in those loud team colours every time.  When you explained to him what Pima cotton was and delighted in a sports shirt feeling so luxuriously soft, you noticed that Din started leaving it for you to wear for sleep – first only at his apartment, but before long, he “allowed” the shirt to migrate to your place.
That lime green sweater he wore the first time he was invited to girl’s Sunday brunch.  Bea had wanted to introduce the new guy she was dating and thought that having another boy at the table might make it less intimidating.  Din had gone and immediately clocked Gideon to be an asshole, but somehow managed to convey a polite, yet protective vibe throughout the meal.  When Bea broke up with that odious man a few weeks later, Din, invited back to brunch and coincidentally wearing the same sweater had been so supportive (“You deserve better than that self-absorbed blow hard”), even offering to “take care of him” for her.  You had quickly refused on Bea’s behalf, knowing what “take care” might actually mean, but it had cheered her up so much nonetheless.
His cozy oversized patterned jacquard cardigan that Din wore whenever it was nippier out than usual.  Large enough that it could envelope you while being worn, Din took every opportunity to do so - pressing you against his hard chest while wrapping the front around you to keep the chill away when you were out at the farmers’ market, waiting for the subway, or just standing on the sidewalk while Al finished sniffing his favourite spots.
And more – all the clothes and items you packed away had at least one memory associated with Din where he had made you feel warm, cared for, cherished.
How grateful and lucky you were that Din had loved you the way he did.
Yes, he had broken your heart, but you know that he himself didn’t get away unscathed – Din had also been destroyed by your breakup.  Having long since recognized the immature and empty things said during your last fight as your own emotional lashing out, you saw with more clarity how your own hurt and pain had sliced through Din’s already battle damage armour.  To be honest, you regret your words and how you left things with Din; though the way he did it was all wrong, Din had only ever loved you, cared for you and put you first in the way that he believed matter the most.  And he did so without fanfare, pomp or circumstance - expecting neither accolades nor acknowledgment, or even a hint of self satisfaction.
Your heart truly goes out to Din.  He so willingly carries the weight of the responsibility to take care of others, to put their well being over his own wants and desires; he sees it only as his duty and a mark of his honour to put himself last.  Din never gives himself leave to be selfish, despite being the most deserving for exactly that reason; as long as others are well taken care of, you know that Din would never complain or wish for more for himself.  And while your heart has done its share of mourning for yourself, it also breaks for Din – you know with certainty that he’s as devastated as you are, and yet, he also bears the guilt of having been the cause of your respective heartbreak; likely believing himself undeserving of any sympathy or comfort.
You remember what Boba had once said of Din, that he’s a caretaker through and through.  He attends to the needs of those around him and always has – thinking of the betterment of others, sometimes, and possibly even often, at the expense of his own.  But Din’s always done so happily - it was his duty and he performed it consistently, admirably.  And you remember that you had promised Boba that you would take care of Din right back.
Refusing to add to Din’s already heavy burden when it came to your breakup, you don’t want him to think about you more than he has to when he gets his belongings back; you know he will only spiral into more self blame wondering if you’re still mad or how much you hate him.  He will undoubtedly think about how you might be hurting, and then feel regret and guilt, disappointment or whatever else that eats at him.
So, you make Paz promise not to tell Din that he saw you, to say that Peli had called him over to get the boxes and you were already gone when he arrived.  The fierce look in your eyes tells Paz that you won’t relent and he acquiesces – you were prepared to fight him if necessary, the urge to protect Din where you still can burning brightly within your heart.
Quiet and heartfelt goodbyes are said and longer than needed hugs are dispensed before you and Katie leave Peli’s, arms now empty.  As the cab pulls away, you wave what you sadly think might be your last goodbye to two people you’ve also come to love and will miss terribly.
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9 months ATN
Seeing Peli and Paz at the drycleaner’s is the last contact you have with Din’s world.
After nearly the better part of a year, it no longer feels strange that there are facets of a life you had come to embrace, that are no longer familiar - like bringing baked goods down to Mando’s, or being part of the celebratory group when a Mando’s boxer wins a title.  Making a normal portion size of garlic knots is once again the norm.
Periodically, it might feel unsettling when you remember that you are or were, at least at one time, under threat, and that there are unseen eyes on you, both friendly and unfriendly.  But you never see anyone or any actual evidence of this so there’s not much you can dwell on.  Who’s to say the circumstances of the situation haven’t changed or if you’re even on anyone’s radar anymore?  It’s likely you’ve been forgotten by now and you leave these thoughts at that.
With time, you go from thinking of Din constantly, to less frequently, and now only periodically.  You don’t think you’ll ever quite forget Din.  He had loved you fiercely, of that you were certain, and in turn, you had loved him back just as hard.  He was undoubtedly, a great love of your life.  You don’t think that type of connection is easy to find, nor would you attempt to try and do so again – the way Din had seen you so completely and how you had felt being his was not a feeling you think you’ll let go of any time soon. 
But the price for that type of love was one that you hadn’t been prepared to pay – adherence to some creed or code of honour that was willing to sacrifice your heart wasn’t something you could open yourself up to again.  Not even for that kind of love.  But it didn’t mean you couldn’t look back on it with fondness and remember Din as a man you admired adamantly and would continue to hold up as one of the best men you’ve ever known.
He was kind.  Protective.  Caring and loyal. 
The strength of his character and his generous nature live on in your grateful heart.
Some of your happiest memories will always be ones that you shared with Din.  He had, as was his highest priority, made you feel safe and cherished; despite how it all ended, you knew his motivations and the intentions of his heart to be pure - he had only ever wanted the best for you.  Din’s easy way of making you laugh, supporting you in all your endeavors and of lightening your mental and physical load, all while making you feel like the most special person in any room, were not easily forgotten.  Nor his integrity, considerate nature and the gentleness of his touch.  A lover and a fighter – Din was a rare combo indeed.
You think you’ll love Din until your dying day, but you can’t pine for him anymore.
Had you forgiven him?  Hardly.  But forgiveness wasn’t necessary. 
Forgiveness implied that you needed something to change, to be acknowledged, in order to move forward, and that just simply wasn’t the case.  You neither forgave him or were looking to forgive Din; you didn’t expect there to be a continuation of your story and so, as far as you were concerned, neither of you owed anything further to the other, including forgiveness.  You’re at peace with where the pages of your love story have permanently fallen open; having reread those finally passages a million times, you’ve worked through your grief of having to put Din and your relationship behind you - what remains is only a nostalgic sort of affection and maybe wistfulness.
Your life has gone on without him, but it had always been full before you met Din and it remains so after him: full of friends, hobbies, Alfredo, accomplishment and pride in your work, and everything else your undoubtedly privileged life has to offer.  That’s probably the best word to describe it.  These days, when you do think of Din, it can be without bitterness or disappointment, because you do so only with genuine gratitude; not everyone will have the good fortune of being loved so wholly, so generously and so fearsomely, albeit it had only been for a little while.  Yes, it takes no great effort to admit: it had been a privilege to be loved by Din Djarin.
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It’s been a good day.  Great even.  All your meetings finish on time (!), and no one on your team, yourself included, had extra work assigned at the last minute – you’re all able to leave ON TIME.
Stepping out of your office building, you can’t quite believe it – you haven’t seen this side of 5:30 since… you were a junior?  No, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s been a long time for sure.
You and your colleagues exchange excited hugs, marveling at your luck; a few even joke that you should all prepare to pay for this tomorrow before laughing and each going in your separate directions.
Pausing for a moment where you stand, you contemplate maybe popping into the bookstore across the street before heading home when your eyes are drawn to a hulking figure that sits on one of the courtyard benches directly facing your office.  Despite his size and striking profile, the man’s presence isn’t terribly imposing, but it is a wonder that you hadn’t notice him until now.
You lock eyes with the man, not ready to believe he’s really there, when he gives you a tentative smile along with a small wave of the bouquet of peonies that he holds in his hand.
Din.
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Thanks so much again to anyone who has read this far in the series with me - I love you all so much! Your kind words and encouragement really motivated me to finish this chapter a bit earlier than I had anticipated! I'm still on the cruise, so I'm just posting this when the ship's wifi is strong 🤣 so adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):
@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro
@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20
@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief
@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414
@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe
@bebsjo @yopossum @cartonkid1200 @rav3n-pascal22
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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 months ago
Text
Precious Truths: Part 12
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.
Series Masterlist
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Three years. Three years was all you got with James Montclair before he unexpectedly died from a heart attack. You two had so much you wanted to do together. You wanted to travel the world and start a family.
All of those dreams came to an unexpected halt and you felt so broken and empty.
James was your savior, salvation. Lover and friend. He was supposed to be there with you forever and this is what became of him? It's not fair. How could someone so sweet, passionate, and understanding like James succumb to such a sudden death? You don't understand it.
After the bishop says a final prayer and James' coffin lowers to the ground, you and James' mother hold each other tight, crying into each other's arms.
You, James' mother, and his father, stay as friends and family bid you prayers, sorrows, and well wishes.
When Violet Bridgerton and her family come up next, you toss all propriety to the side. You throw yourselves at the older woman you saw as another mother figure. She gasps as she holds you, her heart breaking for she knows all too well how it feels to unexpectedly lose a husband.
"I know, sweet girl. I know it hurts. Let it all out."
The Bridgertons stand silently in solemn. All of their hearts clenching at the sight of you. You are their dear friend and they all hurt to see you so crestfallen.
But the one most broken of all stands furthest back from his siblings. Practically hiding behind his eldest brother, Benedict Bridgerton watches as you sob into his mother's arms.
He never wished for you to be in the same position similar to his mother's. To lose one's love and dearest friend, he saw how it affected his mother for years. Sure, his mother is happy now, but that was well long after his father's passing.
His concern grows for you. He hopes you don't fall into a deep depression and sadness. He felt helpless when his mother was going through it. He refuses to feel the same now with you.
With a sudden swell of courage and compassion, he pushes his way to the front of his siblings. All of which are too happy to let their brother through so confront you.
After minutes pass, you pull back from Violet and immediately spot Benedict.
"Ben," you say his name breathlessly before you hurl yourself towards him. He quickly catches you, wrapping his arms around you, tight.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispers as he holds you and you hold him.
"Thank you for coming," you whisper back.
Violet quickly gathers her children, herding them inside the Montclair estate where James' parents reside. Everyone leaving you and Benedict be.
A part of Benedict feels odd to be embracing you like this in front of your husband's grave. But you're hurting and need comfort, and that's the priority right now. You're the priority.
____________________
"Perhaps, it would be good for you to live with us for some time," James' mother, Clarissa, says once the guests start dwindling down. Benedict had left to fetch you a beverage. He hadn't left your side for hours.
You sigh, looking down at your black dress, "Won't I be intruding?"
"Darling, you are family now. You could never intrude. This is your home now too."
"It's customary for the mourning period to be twelve months. In that time, it's best to be surrounded by your family for support," Violet says as she sits across from you in the drawing room.
"It is also customary to pause social obligations for a short time while you mourn," James' father, Jean Louis, adds, "Which I'm sure you're relieved about," he gives you a teasing wink.
You give a little chuckle, "Yes. James and I weren't very fond of all the balls and dinner parties. At least, I will get some reprieve from that."
Clarissa sadly smiles at the mention of her only son and child, "Yes, he never did like attending those. Having you by his side made them bearable, according to him."
"I felt the same," you let out a deep breath, "I think I will call it night here, if I may?" you look to your mother and father-in-law.
"Of course, cheri. Go rest," Clarissa stands and kisses your cheek. Jean Louis kisses your head.
Benedict comes back with two glasses in hand and a furrowed brow, "Are you alright?"
"I am feeling quite exhausted so I will be going to bed," you respond.
He nods in understanding, "Alright. I...If you need anything, write to me. I will be here in an instant."
"Promise?" you look at him hopefully.
"Promise."
"Thank you, Ben."
"Goodnight, Y/N."
"Goodnight," you respond and nod to Violet before exiting the room.
Violet stands, "I believe that is our sign to leave as well."
"Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, to you and your family for coming today. It means a great deal to us."
The Dowager Viscountess softly smiles, "Yes, well, Y/N has always been a dear friend to our family. James became dear to us as well after they married. We cared for him, dearly. We are here should you ever need us, Lady Montclair."
"We very much appreciate it," Jean Louis says. He gestures for the Bridgerton family to step out first, he and his wife following behind.
_______________________
A part of you thought that Benedict was being nice when he said you could write him. The thought of writing letters to him again only for them to go unread scared you. But it was a particularly rough day. A week after James' passing, you were struggling to get through the day. You thought you were okay, but you were in the study reading and for a moment, you thought you saw James sitting at the desk, watching you with love in his eyes like he used to. But he wasn't.
That's when you decided to write to Benedict.
Dearest Ben,
I know you told me to write you if I ever needed anything. To be frank, I've been wanting to write you for several days now. However, I have been afraid to since for the past few years, I've written to you and I never received a letter back.
I hope you do read this letter. Whether it is due to pity or you do still care for me, it does not matter. Please, I beg you, just write back.
I need you more than ever right now.
While the Montclairs are kind, loving, and we all share the grief of losing James, I just need someone to distract me. To let me know that this pain won't be forever.
I desperately need your friendship, Benedict. This is all I ask.
Yours,
Y/N
_________________
After reading your letter, Benedict barges into Anthony's study startling Kate and Anthony.
"Brother," he says and nods to Kate, "Sister." He holds up your letter, "Y/N wrote to me begging for my friendship."
Kate and Anthony look at each other and then to Benedict, "I'm not sure what the issue is," Anthony says in confusion.
The Viscountess chuckles and shakes her head, "Dear husband, Benedict is obviously in distress because he is unsure of what the best plan of action is."
Benedict nods, "Yes. That's it," he fully faces his sister, "What do I do? You're still close to Y/N, yes?"
Kate closes the book she was reading and sits up in her chair, "I can't fully give you the extent of Y/N's thoughts and feelings towards you and the end of your friendship. However, I will say that since you cut off contact from her, she seemed to have lost her spark. Yes, she was still happy with the marquess, but you could tell that something was missing from her. She missed you a lot, Benedict."
Anthony slowly nods, "Yes, she didn't want you to leave her side at Montclair's funeral."
"She seemed more at ease after you approached her. Still mourning the death of her husband, yes, but happy you were there."
Benedict stands there contemplating Kate's words, "Do you think it's wise I pick up correspondence with her again?"
Kate shrugs, standing from her spot, "Doesn't matter what I think. All I know is that Y/N has missed your friendship, Benedict, and I know you feel the same." she gives her brother a reassuring pat on the arm before excusing herself from the room.
Benedict then looks to his eldest brother with an approving look, "I'm glad you married her, brother."
Anthony gives a proud, lovesick smile, "As am I."
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