#thank you to those of you who were kind and reached out I appreciate it ❤️
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🧹 anyway have a great day besties
#thank you to those of you who were kind and reached out I appreciate it ❤️#ridding the blog of the vibes
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Nom Nom
Synopsis: After what seems like years of asking, your boyfriend has finally allowed you to bite his tiddies.
Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader
Genre: suggestive, mini-series, established relationship
Rating: suggestive/mature
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: biting, marking, nipple play, dry humping, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This is kind of a continuation of the boyfriend texts post, but it's not really necessary to read it! It will help with some context though!
Thank you so much to @seokgyuu for beta reading!
Tagging @brownsugarbaybee as usual!
This feels very on-brand for me.
Read the sequel: Nom Nom: The Revenge
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
You giggle to yourself as you enter your shared apartment. You can't believe Seungcheol actually agreed to it; after what seems like months of asking, he's finally agreed to let you bite his tiddies. Although you had to admit you were only joking when you asked him those 500 or so times, you were actually kind of excited to finally have this opportunity.
As you enter the living room, you find Seungcheol seated on the couch in an oversized hoodie with a pout plastered on his face. You look at him quizzically as you approach him.
"I thought I asked you to be prepped and ready on the bed," you huff, half-joking with him.
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his pout somehow deepening. "You were actually serious about that?" he asks, exasperated.
"Of course I was serious," you scoff. "When am I ever not serious?"
"Pretty much all the time," he huffs. You let out a small "hey" and playfully hit his shoulder.
"Now stop dilly-dallying and go lie down on the bed," you demand, crossing your arms. He lets out a whine and wraps his arms around your torso, snuggling his face into your abdomen.
"Princess," he whines, then looks up at you with puppy eyes. "Please don't do this to me," he pleads.
"Nope, not happening. No amount of whining and pouting is getting you out of this Cheollie. It's too late now. You already agreed to it," you look down at him and grin. He groans and hides his face in your abdomen.
"Now chop chop. Or else no kisses for a week," you state. His head jerks up, and his eyes widen.
"No kisses for a week?!" He exclaims.
"Princess, you can't do this to me!" He complains.
"I can and I will," you huff. "Now hurry up!"
With a final grumble, he reluctantly lets go of you and stands up.
"Please let Cheollie go," he pouts and cups your face.
"Cheollie is about to get his ass whooped if he doesn't get on the bed within the next five seconds," you sarcastically grin.
Shoulders slumping at his last ditch effort, he makes his way to the bedroom with you closely following behind.
He sits on the bed, fidgeting with his fingers while staring at the floor. You giggle at how shy he seems.
"Well, what're you waiting for? Strip," you smirk.
He looks at you with a pout, a blush dusting his cheeks as he slowly reaches for the hem of his hoodie. He slowly pulls off his hoodie and quickly covers his chest with his arms, causing you to laugh. Your boyfriend, who was usually dominant in bed, is now acting like a shy virgin; you can't help but laugh at his actions.
"Stop laughing," he whines, blushing harder.
"I can't help it," you giggle. "You're acting like I've never seen you naked before."
"Well, it feels weird, okay?" He grumbles with a pout.
You can't help but coo at him. You move to straddle his lap and cup his blushing face.
"I promise I'll be gentle. You can ask me to stop anytime," you whisper. You lean in to gently kiss him as reassurance that you won't do anything he's uncomfortable with.
"Now, lean against the headboard," you murmur. You get off his lap to allow him to lean against the headboard and get comfortable.
Once he's comfortable, you straddle his waist and start leaving wet kisses along his jaw, helping him relax. You smile to yourself when you feel him slowly relax under you.
Slowly making your way to his lips, you capture them into a passionate kiss, moaning at the feeling of his tongue against yours. You lightly grind against him, causing him to groan into your mouth.
You pull away from him, both of you panting. He looks incredible beneath you, his eyes dazed, lips swollen, and breathless. You shift to leave kisses down his neck, your teeth grazing against his skin.
You hear his breath hitch when you reach his chest. They feel so firm beneath you that you can’t resist moving your hands to squeeze them.
"Princess," he groans.
"God, I love how firm your chest feels," you whine, squeezing him harder.
You lean down to lick one of his nipples, causing him to shut his eyes and moan out loud.
"F-Fuck princess," he groans as you start sucking on the bud.
He throws his head back and shuts his eyes when he feels your teeth lightly digging into his skin. You start sucking on the bud, causing him to let out a string of curses. After finishing marking the bud, you move on to the other one, giving it equal attention. He lets out a loud groan when you pinch his puffed-up nipple. You feel his bulge growing as he ruts against you.
"Feel good Cheollie?" You purr after sitting up to look at him.
"Feels so good princess," he moans, eyes screwed shut.
You grin, then lean down to start marking his chest. He lets out a long groan and arches his back. Small pants and moans escape his lips as your marks get deeper and rougher. Blotches of red and purple slowly bloom across his chest, painting it with your mark. His hips jerk up, and a whimper escapes his lips when you bite down particularly hard.
Enjoying his reactions, you continue to abuse his chest, savouring every moment. You lean back to take a minute and cherish your work. You beam when you see his chest covered in bruises, bites, and saliva.
"Look at me Cheollie," you purr. He opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes blown out and a fucked out expression on his face.
"Are you alright baby?" You murmur, caressing his flushed cheeks. He nods breathlessly, the corner of his lips lifting up into a fucked out smile.
Just then, an idea strikes you, and you smirk before leaning in close to his ear.
"I'm going to mark you with my initials," you purr. "After all, an artist has to sign their painting to show who it belongs to, right baby?" You giggle. You feel his dick twitch at your words.
"You like that Cheollie? You like being marked by me?" You smirk. He lets out a soft whimper and grinds against you, causing you to let out a giggle.
"I am an artist, and you are my canvas baby," you whisper before shifting back to his chest.
You lean down and begin biting and sucking the skin, marking your initials into his left chest cause it's closer to his heart, making sure they take up most of the space. You have to show him and everyone else who belongs in his heart, of course. You hear him moan and groan under you, his hands on your hips to keep you steady. After embedding your initials into his skin, you sit up and admire your handiwork.
You look down and pout, still unsatisfied with your work, feeling like something was missing. That's when it hits you; you giggle as you lean back down to encapsulate your initials with a heart.
"Princess, what—" his question is abruptly cut off by a moan as you bite down harder than usual, silently asking him to simply let you do what you want.
You sit up after finishing the heart, finally satisfied with your work.
"So pretty Cheollie," you purr as you gently trace your fingers across your artwork. "I need to take a picture."
"A picture?" he asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face.
"Of course! I need to forever encapsulate my masterpiece after all," you giggle. You shift to reach for your phone on the side table, causing him to groan.
"Princess, you're killing me here," he mutters.
"Hush! I'm busy taking pretty pictures of my pretty man," you grin as you proceed to take multiple pictures of him.
Your words make him blush, and you squeal, thrilled that the pictures are turning out even better than you expected. He looks so pretty with your mark on him, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes dazed. You're definitely going to use them as your wallpaper for a while.
"Enough," he growls, snatching your phone and tossing it back onto the table. You let out a gasp when he suddenly flips you over, him now on top of you.
"I've let you have your fun, but now it's my turn."
#kvanity#thediamondlifenetwork#k-labels#svthub#missing daddy cheol hours#scoups x reader#scoups x y/n#scoups x you#scoups scenarios#scoups imagines#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#choi seungcheol x you#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fic#choi seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#svt x y/n#svt x you#svt x reader#svt fanfic#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seventeen smut#svt smut
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Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!
This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you
Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!
Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.
As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.
Word Count: 2.8K
Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.
Background: How You Got Here
You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’
It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself.
You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be.
You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand.
They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it.
They call women sluts who do the chasing.
They call women sluts who fuck on the first date.
They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date.
The word slut has lost all meaning.
Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”
“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”
And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.
So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out.
You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place.
You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!
His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley.
“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men.
Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”
“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”
“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”
It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!
Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them.
Haruka Sakura
Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.
You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always.
You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.
As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice?
The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.
Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties.
“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes.
You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”
He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”
Akihiko Nirei
“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”
Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.
You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.
After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.
“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front.
“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”
“What about my bra size?”
“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”
You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”
He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”
Ren Kaji
Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells.
Are you ok?
Who did this to you?
Who does he have to kill?!
As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops.
“You mad at me or somethin’?”
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”
“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”
You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth.
“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”
“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.
“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth.
Hayato Suo
Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.
If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”
If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”
Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on.
Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.
“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?
His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.
“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”
Hajime Umemiya
The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to.
You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.
One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist.
“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”
Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”
You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”
“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”
You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious!
“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”
He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous.
“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”
“Not Daddy?”
“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”
Toma Hiragi
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.
As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.
You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.”
Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”
You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”
You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”
“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.”
You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”
“Jesus.”
Jo Togame
Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick.
You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,
You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you.
And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea.
With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.
“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”
“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds.
He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat.
“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”
You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”
He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”
Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.
“How?” You squeak.
“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”
You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry.
Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.
#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker#wind breaker#sakura haruka x reader#haruka sakura#sakura x reader#togame jo#togame jo x reader#nirei akihiko#wind breaker nirei#hayato suo#hayato suo x reader#hiragi toma x reader#hiragi x reader#hajime umemiya x reader#umemiya x reader#hajime umemiya#ren kaji#kaji ren x reader#ren kaji x reader#kaji x reader#request fill#request
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Hello, can I request Aven, Ratio and Sunday with an s/o who's like Komi from “Komi can’t communicate?” Basically, their s/o is socially anxious and finds it incredibly hard to talk but is expressive in emotions and usually communicates through writing on paper.
Also if its not too much, could you write a lil scenario in how they would react when someone says something rude about s/o’s social anxiety?
ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋᴏᴍɪ! ꜱ/ᴏ
pairings - sunday x komi! reader / aventurine x komi! reader / dr ratio x komi! reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/ komi! reader/ pre and established relationships/ reader getting shit-talked by people/ socially anxious! reader
warnings - swearing lol
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
↻ Sunday would be a wonderful partner to have, he’s very understanding of your struggles communicating with others and participating in activities with your peers
↻ He’s super encouraging and supportive, giving you a small push when it comes to interacting with people (besides him, his sister was the first person you successfully managed to hold a conversation with lol)
↻ At first glance, Sunday found your appearance attractive, the air around you held that sense of authority and grace, enamoring everyone within your reach
↻ However, when he introduced himself to you, you could only stare at him blankly which made him a little concerned…
↺ Were you deaf? Mute? He really did try his best at getting a word out of you but you could only stutter in response, quickly leaving him due to your embarrassment
↺ Gradually, he began to understand what you would try to say by your body cues and expressions
↻ Sunday ended up gifting you, soon after your first meeting, your own personal notebook to write in that way you could communicate your thoughts easily
↺ You were overjoyed, chatting non-stop with him throughout the day
↻ Unbeknownst to the both of you, it seemed you had quite the reputation with the way people would gawk and stare at you like you were some sort of goddess
↺ Sunday could understand them, you were not only attractive, but smart and kind, offering your help to those who need it despite being afraid of approaching others (it just came to you naturally)
↻ Sunday finds the sounds you make cute, especially when you’re embarrassed or flustered, he can’t help but tease you when he can
↺ He also finds the way you express yourself very endearing, reminding him of a kitten
↻ You love petting his wings and taking care of them, it's one of your favorite things to do to help calm yourself down
↻ If someone pokes fun or insults you for being socially anxious, he’d be ready to rain hell on them (you’re trying your best and that’s all that matters !!)
↺ Those kind of encounters would bring your spirits down, but eventually, you’d gather up the courage to keep trying thanks to the support of Sunday and the few friends you made
-----
“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to speak up for yourself. Just say something.”
You had thought you were beginning to make a new friend, but noticing the way they treated you… You knew you didn’t want to be around them any longer.
You nervously fidgeted in your seat, staring down at the half eaten sundae in front of you. The sudden announcement had spoiled your mood and appetite, feeling too uncomfortable to even eat near someone like them. You just wanted to escape the situation now before it becomes too tense.
Your ‘friend’ was about to continue what they were saying, but was interrupted by a stern voice.
“It’s harder for some people to voice their thoughts, it doesn’t always come naturally to them.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, it was Sunday. Turning to face him with a relieved expression, he understood your silent appreciation for his interjection.
“People work at their own pace, don’t try to rush them into doing something they aren’t comfortable with.” Sunday’s eyes narrowed at them, your ‘friend’ at a loss for words. “Come now, _____, a new place has opened up and I’d like to take you there.”
Sunday had offered you his hand to help pull you up which you gratefully accepted, leaving the half eaten sundae with your friend. It was now something they would have to deal with, whether they liked it or not.
-----
↻ Speaking of friends, if you had a goal to reach a certain number of friends, he’d happily help you and introduce you to some of his closest friends
↺ The astral express would be super welcoming and friendly to you; I can imagine you spending time with them on the express while silently chatting with Pom Pom (the crew wonders how they can understand you, but are happy you are enjoying yourself)
↻ Sunday would love spending time with you, bringing you to different events or to an amusement park that way you could experience the thrill of the rides
↺ He knows that if you’re lost, you start to panic, so he tries his best to never lose sight of you in crowded situations
↺ If you do end up losing him, he’ll have a family member escort you to where he; if he’s busy, he’ll have a family member accompany you whenever you go out if you aren’t comfortable doing so alone
↻ All in all, Sunday is your biggest supporter and wants you to be comfortable !
↻ Aventurine thinks you’re very interesting and fun to tease
↻ Although you normally intimidated people by accident at first glance, he wasn’t thrown off by your blank stare or silence
↻ At first he was just messing around with you, he never would’ve thought that he would be in a relationship with you but he’s quite happy nonetheless
↻ If you know the dynamic between Komi’s parents, I feel like that would apply to both you and Aventurine
↺ He’s the talker of the both of you (of course) and is much more energetic compared to you who silently gazes at people and can only manage a couple sentences
“They asked for no pickles.”
“Thank you..Aven.
↺ Aventurine definitely speaks up for you in tense situations (like when your order is wrong but you don’t want to say anything)
↻ Aventurine doesn’t mind your shyness and is willing to help you develop social skills
↺ He introduces you to Topaz and Ratio, who both get along with you just fine
(you were intimidated by Ratio, but you slowly warmed up to him and enjoy his lectures)
↻ He finds your quirks cute, purposely teasing you so he could get a reaction
↺ Aventurine is pretty observant, so he was able to pick up on the small habits you have fairly quickly
↻ I feel like you wouldn’t need to communicate your thoughts with him as much because he knows how to read you like a book, but he’d end up giving you a small notepad anyways
↻ Aventurine would definitely shower you with gifts and bring you to his favorite spots, hoping to slowly inch you out of your shell (it works a bit)
↻ Like Sunday, Aventurine would notice your popularity (you’re completely unaware) and keep a keen eye on your surroundings, especially if you visit the casino he frequents
↺ He keeps you close to him so people don’t try anything funny with you
↻ If someone were to insult or poke fun at your social anxiety, he’d be really irked and would show it passive aggressively, making sure to not confront them in front of you because he knows you would heavily discourage him
-----
“Ugh, they’re so silent it’s creepy… Why don’t they say anything?”
Aventurine’s ears perked up, listening in on a conversation two workers were having as you walked beside him down the hallway.
“I know. What does Aventurine even see in them?”
They continued their conversation through hushed whispers and secretive glances. Yet Aventurine was able to hear every last comment and insult thrown at you. It made his frown deepen and brows furrow, but he knows if he did anything now you’d stop him. He’ll have to deal with the two of them later.
-----
The next day, Aventurine was back at the casino with you by his side. As expected, he had a bountiful amount of chips on his side, proof of his winning streak.
A new game was about to begin, and as he peered up through his rose-tinted glasses to gauge the participating opponents, he saw two familiar faces. The workers from yesterday, how fortunate for him.
Throughout the game, a new, tense air had surrounded Aventurine, something you picked up on. He was much more competitive than before, losing his aloof demeanor and focusing on the game at hand. Was there something wrong?
Before you knew it, the game was over. Aventurine had come out victorious, watching his opponents’ faces drop at the huge sum of money they lost with a sly smirk.
He was satisfied, for now.
-----
↻ If you end up getting lost somewhere, Aventurine would be your first contact and he’d drop everything to help you (The next people for you to contact would be Topaz and Ratio)
↻ Sometimes I think Aventurine would overwhelm you with his antics, especially with his “all or nothing” mindset (your poor heart)
↺ Aventurine would eventually cave in due to your huffs and frowns because he finds you too cute
↻ He’s happy to have you and will always be by your side when you need him (you’re his first priority)
↻ Goodness, poor you would be pretty intimidated by him and his strict nature at first meeting
↺ Ratio would have to be the one to approach you first since you’re too scared to even utter a word to him
↻ I don’t think Ratio would fully understand your anxieties, as he personally never dealt with it
↺ However, he would slowly start to understand and even try asking you questions in which you can provide him a simple answer (usually yes or no questions)
↻ He begrudgingly helps you socialize with people, even though he hates to interact with idiots himself
↺ I can imagine him giving you lecture about human behavior and social relationships, which you listen to attentively but also blankly stare at him (he shakes his head at this but continues anyways)
↺ His lectures actually end up helping you understand people though, and his lessons about social skills has helped you with introducing yourself to new people
↺ He forces Aventurine to help him with your social skills since he’s pretty upbeat and friendly
↻ If you’ve made some improvements with social interactions, Ratio would feel pretty satisfied and happy that he helped you (he’d never tell you directly but he’d give you rewards)
↻ Being Ratio’s significant other would be interesting
↻ By this point, he probably has all your little quirks and habits memorized, knowing what may be troubling you or what caught your interest
↺ He finds your habits and actions quite endearing, it brings a soft smile to his usually stoic face
↻ Ratio likes expressing his affection for you with gifts he finds useful and interesting, recounting the history behind the item or how it was manufactured (you enjoy listening to his rambles and he’s happy that he can tell you these findings)
↻ If someone were to make a snide comment about your social anxiety, he would have zero hesitation is giving them a lecture or throwing a chalk their way
↺ He’d probably make them cry or shit themselves
-----
“THE Veritas Ratio is dating someone? Who??”
“Just some freak. Seriously, I heard they never speak and all they do is just stare at you.”
“Wow… That’s pretty creepy.”
“Exac–”
“Excuse me.”
The two girls who were just gossiping about you jumped, smiling nervously at the source of the intrusion.
“Ah, Doctor Ratio! Fancy seeing you here…”
“I work here.” Ratio deadpanned, eyes glaring down at the two. “I couldn’t help but notice that the topic of your conversation pertained to me and my partner. I suggest that you keep your noses out of our business and quit these idiotic assumptions.”
“I- We were just–”
“Stop your incessant ramblings. If I hear another word about anything regarding my personal life, I will be sure to have you both taken care of. Understood?” His authoritative tone made the two girls quiver in their spot, nodding their heads frantically.
Ratio turned to leave, making his way back to you who was sitting on a nearby bench staring at the ground. At the sound of his footsteps, you looked back up at him, getting up from your seat.
“Are you..ready to go, Veri?”
“Yes, let’s go, My Love.”
-----
↻ Ratio is pretty protective of you, especially since he’s aware of the attention you garner (your hands are also interlocked so you don’t get swept away from him)
↺ If you get lost, you both would identify a landmark to meet by so you don’t bump into as many people
↻ To make communication easier for the both of you, he bought you a notebook to write down your thoughts in so you could show it to him whenever you wanted (he’ll make sure that it’s always on hand for your peace of mind)
↻ Ratio is a proud significant other, he admires your motivation to learn and improve on your social skills
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
note - i love komi can't communicate, it's such a cute anime series and i can't wait to watch season 3 if it comes out. :)
#writing➠#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr sunday x reader#sunday x reader#hsr veritas ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#dr ratio x reader#hsr dr ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#fluff#socially anxious! reader#komi! reader
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How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?
A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.
The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle
Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.
Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.
Fatherhood is sexy on him.
“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.
You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.
Which you did earlier and were now.
“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.
You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.
You understand the appeal.
Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?
“This one?” Bucky asks.
The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”
Yeah, it is too bad.
Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”
The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”
Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.
Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.
And you want to be seen.
While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.
Maybe she just needed a win today.
“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.
“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.
Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”
“Oh, she was,” you agree.
“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.
You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.
Like he’s amazed by you.
“That makes sense,” he says.
“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.
The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.
“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”
His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”
“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”
You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.
Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.
And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.
I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#dad!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#dad!bucky barnes#the dad diaries au#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan
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His Watchful Eye Pt. 4
Word Count: 11.9k
Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears
Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1
AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D
"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"
Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5
Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.
He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.
Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?
And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?
Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.
"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"
Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."
The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.
The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.
He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"
The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.
The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."
His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.
Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.
His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.
"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.
"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."
Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.
Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?
"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.
"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"
Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."
The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.
Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.
Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.
He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.
Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.
His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.
If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.
His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.
Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?
Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.
He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.
Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.
Because finding you was all that mattered.
As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.
But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.
He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.
But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.
Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.
With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.
For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.
"Xavier? Is that you??"
His heart nearly stopped.
You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.
And now, you were almost free.
But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.
"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.
Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.
The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.
Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.
A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?
You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.
But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.
As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?
Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.
And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.
You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.
With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.
Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.
Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.
Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?
Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.
A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.
You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?
"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.
"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"
His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.
You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"
"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."
You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.
"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?
"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"
The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.
"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"
He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.
"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.
"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."
You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.
Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.
Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.
But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.
Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.
But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.
Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.
You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.
Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.
The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.
With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.
Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.
You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.
He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.
With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.
Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.
But nothing came.
No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.
For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.
You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?
The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.
Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.
You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.
Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.
Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.
For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.
But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.
Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.
Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.
As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.
The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.
"Hey, you okay?"
You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.
His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.
"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.
"What happened to your arm?"
You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.
"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."
The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."
You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.
You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.
"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."
The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.
"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"
You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.
The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."
He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."
You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.
"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."
He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.
You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”
He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."
You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.
"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."
He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.
His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.
As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.
Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.
"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.
He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.
Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.
You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.
Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.
Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.
The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.
Please, Xavier... please pick up.
The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.
The phone rang again... and again.
Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.
"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.
Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.
"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."
But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?
Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.
"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.
The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.
"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"
The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.
"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."
His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."
You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."
There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"
"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."
Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."
"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."
"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."
Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"
"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.
Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.
"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"
You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.
"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.
You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.
With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.
"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, more tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.
The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.
"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.
You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.
He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."
His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.
You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.
The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.
"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."
You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.
The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.
The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."
You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.
As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.
"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.
He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."
You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.
He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."
As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."
You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.
"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.
Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."
You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.
"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.
After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.
Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.
"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."
You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.
Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.
Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.
As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.
“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.
He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."
You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.
"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.
"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."
His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.
"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.
"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."
You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.
"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."
Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.
You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.
Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.
He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.
What is he looking for?
The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.
"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.
"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.
"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"
A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.
You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.
"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.
"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."
Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."
You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"
Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"
You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.
"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.
But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.
Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.
"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."
Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.
"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."
His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."
Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.
"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."
His words hung in the air, cold and final.
"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.
Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.
As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.
"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.
You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.
Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."
The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."
Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.
"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."
As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.
The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.
Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.
"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.
"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.
The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.
"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.
The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.
You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.
The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.
You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.
His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.
Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"
The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.
"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.
"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."
For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.
"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."
His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.
He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.
“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"
The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.
Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.
Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.
At least he gave you warm baths.
The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.
Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.
The cold water finally stops.
In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.
#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace smut#sylus#sylus x reader smut#l&ds smut#lads#loveanddeepspace#lads smut#lads sylus x reader#lads fic#lads scenarios#l&ds xavier#xavier x reader#love and deep space x reader#love and deepspace x reader#x reader#l&ds#lnds
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someone else bought you flowers... ft. nanami, gojo, toji, hakari, takuma, & higuruma
authors note: hi. this is just a lil something I wrote while on break at work. my birthday was last week and I wanted to write a lil something but got too busy. until now! pls enjoy. bye. ps: probably gonna write a second part for some of the other boys...
cw: suggestive, slight jealousy, fem reader
wc: 2.2k
click here for my masterlist
“Baby?” You hear Nanami’s voice from the kitchen, you lean back in your chair, spying down the hallway. When you spot him a smile spreads over your face.
“Hi honey, you’re home early.” You say, pushing to your feet as you make your way towards him. He’s standing near the island in the middle of the kitchen, hand outstretched towards the bouquet of flowers you’d set there. “Thank you for the flowers by the way… what was the occasion?” You ask, outstretching your arms to give him a hug. Nanami pulls you into him, kissing the top of your head.
“I didn’t send you these cheap flowers, honey.” He intones against the top of your head. You pull back, slightly surprised.
“Hmm?”
“I know your favorite flowers. Those are practically weeds.” You laugh softly at his words, he’s still holding you gently. He’s serious as he looks at the bundle of flowers with scrutiny.
“So I have a secret admirer?” You ask as Nanami’s gaze sharpened.
“It seems. But they don’t know you very well. Pity.”
“You’re a flower snob.” You tease as Nanami tightens his hold around your hips.
“I just know my girl.” He kisses your cheek first, then your jaw and neck, he trails up to your lips, pausing before they meet. “And my girl deserves only the best quality flowers.” You scoff out a laugh and he shuts you up with a kiss.
~
You flicked the card from the flowers, your coworkers gushing beside you as you blushed embarrassed.
“Wow… he really went all out.” Your coworker beamed, leaning to smell the bouquet. You turned in your chair, popping open the card.
You shine through my darkest days... Signed, your future.
The card was sappy but the flowers were a nice thought. Satoru liked to embarrass you sometimes and even though you weren’t really a flower kind of girl you still appreciated him thinking of you. The elevator to your floor dinged and your coworker giggled, nudging you.
“Here’s Mr. Romantic.” She teased as you turned and spotted him. He smirked at you, giving you a little wave. You gathered up your stuff as he met you halfway, taking your purse and lunch bag. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you two walked to the elevator.
“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you blushed, rolling your eyes.
“Uh huh, someone…” you teased back. “My future apparently.” You said as you two stepped onto the elevator.
“Your future?” Gojo echoed.
“Who apparently shines through your darkest days?” You and Satoru met eyes before he reached out and plucked the card from the flowers. He looked over it for a second.
“So my girl had a secret admirer?” He says, pocketing the card.
“Oh? They’re not from you?”
“I know you don’t like flowers, baby.” He says as the door slides open and you two walk out. He was right, you were more of a sweets person. “You know for someone who’s your future they don’t know you very well.” He teases as you laugh. He holds out his hand for the flowers as you hand them off. He presents them to an older lady walking by who blushes and thanks him.
“You pawned off my pretty flowers.” You teased as he took your hand.
“Thanks because you need arm space for all the shit I’m about to buy you.” He winks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, pulling you towards the city.
~
You huffed coming through the door, arms full of at least fifty roses. You struggled until an arm jutted out, pushing your front door open for you.
“You’re home early, baby.” Toji’s voice intoned, deep and smooth from just waking up.
“There was a mix up with the shifts at work so I got to leave.” You say, watching Toji’s eyes stick to the roses in your arms. “This was sweet of you by the way. I didn’t get to read the card yet.”
“Don’t bother.” He said, eyes sharpening. “I didn’t send these.”
“Oh?” You hum, setting the bundles of roses on the table as Toji plucks out the card, tearing it open. He reads it over and hikes up a brow.
“This is some corny shit, baby.” He laughs, handing over the card for you to read.
Roses are red, violets are blue, the best part of my day is you.
You audibly laughed.
“Yeah if I had read the card I would’ve known you didn’t send these.”
“These are expensive,” Toji says, plucking one of the petals from a rose. “Looks like some rich bastard has his eye on my girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that had your stomach bottoming out.
“How inconvenient.” You tease as Toji pushes the roses right off the table into the trash. Your lips part in surprise.
“We can’t just-“ he’s swift with his movements, pulling you into him, large hands on your waist as he turns you to face him, bodies pushed together.
“I’ll kill him.”
“It’s just roses.” You smirk as he sharpens his eyes.
“You want some roses, I'll buy you thousands, not some schmuck from work.”
“Toji… are you jealous?”
“Hush.” He whispers against your lips before kissing them.
~
“Morning, you sleep well?” You push inside the front door, struggling between the bags and the flowers. Hakari glances up from his phone and sets it down on the coffee table. It was evident from the lingering scent of coffee and his disheveled appearance that he had just gotten up.
"Yeah, like a corpse," he replies, helping you with some of the bags. "What's with the flowers?"
“Oh?” You glance at the flowers. “I thought you sent them to me?”Hakari raised an eyebrow momentarily, taking a close look at the bouquet.
"Not from me, babe. You sure they ain't from some secret admirer?" He teases with a lighthearted smirk, plucking one of the flowers from the bunch and twirling it idly in his free hand.
“Well if they aren’t from you then they are from someone else.” You respond, walking towards the kitchen. Hakari follows closely behind you, setting the bags down on the countertop. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed, a curious smirk on his face as he watches you set up the flowers in a vase.
"So, who do you think sent 'em? Got any ideas?"
You pluck out the card, flashing it to him.
“I haven’t read it yet.”
Hakari's smirk widens in anticipation as he looks at the card, intrigued. He lets out an exaggerated scoff, pretending to be unbothered.
"Well, don't just stand there. Read it already. See who's been sending you flowers like a sap." You pull it open, reading the card.
“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow, from your secret admirer.” You recite. Hakari lets out a genuine chuckle at the message, a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes.
"That's pretty sappy, gotta hand it to 'em. Secret admirer, huh? Who do you think it could be?" He crosses his arms, feigning nonchalance, as he waits for your response.
“You don’t seem to be bothered with someone sending your girlfriend flowers?” You tease, tossing the card on the table. Hakari swipes it up, reading it again. Hakari chuckles once more, a smirk playing on his lips. He steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you.
"Nah, not really. I can't blame 'em for having good taste. And besides, I trust you." He reaches out, gently pulling you in by your hips, his smirk turning into a sly grin.
"But you still didn’t answer my question. Got any ideas who sent 'em?"
“I have no idea who it could be.” You tease, laughing softly “I have to say though, they did get my favorite flower. That’s nice attention to detail.” Hakari raises an eyebrow.
"Oh really? Your favorite flower, huh? Must’ve gotten lucky." He steps a little closer, his hands still on your hips as he looks down at you, a playful smirk on his face. He leans in, speaking in a low, flirty tone. "I wonder, do I match up to this secret admirer?"
“Hmm… do you? When’s the last time you got me flowers?” You tease, his grip tightens just slightly. Hakari lets out a mock sigh of feigned annoyance, rolling his eyes jokingly.
"Alright, you caught me there. I can't remember the last time I got you flowers. But that ain’t the only way I can get your attention, you know.”He steps even closer, his hands slowly wandering lower as he gently pulls you flush against his body. His eyes locked on yours in a playful glance.
~
Takuma frowned at the sight of flowers in a vase on the counter. He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. He walked towards the bathroom, poking his head in where you were taking a shower.
“Hey, baby?”
“Yeah?” You called out from the shower.
“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you turned off the water and blindly stuck your hand out for a towel. Takuma pushed further into the bathroom, handing you a towel. He waited a moment as you stepped out, wrapped yourself in a towel and wrung out your hair. Takuma leaned on the doorway, a pout on his face as you glanced over at him. You took in his pout and furrowed your brows.
“A coworker got them for me...Not sure who though.” You said, reaching out and gently grabbing the hem of his shirt.
“It’s not Chad is it?” He asks as you pull him to you.
“It’s not Brad, and getting his name wrong won’t make him go away, ya know?” You tease as he smirks.
“Oops.” Takuma shrugs. “So a secret admirer?”
“Uh huh. Did you read the card?” You ask as Takuma idly twists a strand of your hair with his index finger. He shakes his head. “Well apparently they like that I read while eating my lunch, they say it makes me look smart.” You fill him in as Takuma narrows his eyes.
“You eat alone?”
“Yeah,” you shrug. “I like to eat in the courtyard.”
“I’ll have lunch with you from now on.” He says as a smile fits to your lips at his obvious jealousy. “I don’t want some bozo thinking he can just write love poems and watch you from afar.”
“Baby, are you jealous?” You tease.
“Yes.” He says without hesitation making you giggle as you run a hand through his hair, tucking it out of his face. He leans into your touch. “You do know how hot you are right?” He asks, making you laugh.
“Calm down, I brought the flowers home for my mom, she likes daisies. And I’d love lunch with you everyday, even if it’s so you can puff out your chest.”
“No... no puffing of chests is happening. I’m just going to have lunch with my insanely hot girlfriend everyday for the rest of time.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
~
You had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for Hiromi to get home. When he finally arrived late, he quietly stepped in through the front door, not wanting to wake you as you slept on the couch. There was an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers on the table by the couch that he glanced at before setting his things down and pulling off his jacket, loosening his tie. You stir awake on the couch, slowly sitting up as you yawn and stretch.
“You’re home late.” You remarked as he made his way over to you, running a hand through his hair before he’s pulled down next to you. He chuckles warmly as you sidle up beside him, placing your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you.
“Did I wake you, love?”
“No… it’s alright.” You smile sleepily as he places a kiss on the top of your head.
“Waiting up for me?”
“Always.” You answer fondly. A small hum left his lips as he started to shower you with kisses, trailing down to your jaw and down to your neck. He held you close, grip tightening a bit.
"You didn't have to, I told you to go to bed even if I came home late"
“Well I wanted to thank you for the flowers. What was the occasion?”
“Flowers? I didn’t send them love.” Hiromi points out, still pressing absentminded kisses to your jaw and neck. It was hard to focus on his words. “I’ll toss' em for you.” He intones, pulling you into his lap.
“You’re not jealous are you?” You ask heatedly against his lips.
“They’re cheap, baby, they'll be dead by the morning.” He states, pulling you closer by the hips. “And rightfully so.”
“So you are jealous.” You tease feeling his grip tighten.
“And if I was?” He asks, voice low and warm, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. You laugh as he peppers more kisses.
“I’d say it looks good on you.”
#fem reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk#nanami kento#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x you#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk higuruma#higuruma x reader#higuruma hiromi#hiromi x reader#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#hakari kinji#jjk hakari#hakari x reader#jjk takuma
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A smut, or fluff story, anything really. Where reader is slightly chubby with thick thighs, and she’s super insecure and lando hates how she doesn’t see her worth and helps her. - coming from a thicker girlie 🥹
a/n :: got me thinking and like im gonna ramble😓
lando would honestly be so fucking sweet everytime you'd feel insecure even when he doesn't understand it.
you are literally so beautiful so how could you feel insecure when he's absolutely smitten but he does get it.. he gets it better than most.
maybe you're just lying in bed with a sheet covering your thighs because it's really one of those days.
lando notices and is quick to reach under the sheet to rub your thighs while continuing whatever conversation you guys were having.
you instantly feel your heart calm down a bit and when you kiss him,'thank you.' without saying it out loud. he's just smiling cheekily as his hand keeps on moving higher and higher till it's cupping you fully and a hiss is leaving your lips.
calls you 'pretty girl,' in public whenever he feels like you're closing off with the insecurities creeping in.
glares at people if they stare till they stop.
he is proud of you and none can ever make you feel bad about yourself when you're his
imagine how he eats you out, teeth dragging sinfully against your soft thighs he is holding securely in his hands. dragging out a low,"patience baby!" when you try to grind against him to get his mouth where you need it the most.
"let me show 'em some love before I get you off, baby," and like who are you to reject such a princess treatment when he's making you feel so good.
you know you can approach him whenever.,
"do you think this makes me look ugly?" and he'll look up before his brows would draw together because like what the fuck?
looking at you literally reminded him that his heart beats because of how fast it goes suddenly.
"you look eatable if anything," lando replies nonchalantly before throwing the phone that was in his hand on the couch, pulling up to his lap so he can show you exactly what he thinks the dress makes you look like.
your cheeks burn and you're sure he can tell when you feel a very hard evidence of how that dress makes him feel.
"this is all for you, love. don't go shy on me now."
lando makes sure to keep an eye out because he knows you are chronically online when you want to be and salty people hiding behind their screens aren't exactly kind.
the minute he comes home and sees you slumped on the couch with your phone in your hand, he is snatching it away.
"babe I'm starving so I think we should cook together."
drags you across the room till you're sitting on a chair while he cooks, keeping you engaged in whatever gossip he gets from the paddock.
you get distracted for a bit and with a smile, lando is leaning against the counter and gently pressing his lips against yours.
hours later, when you both are fed and happily in love, he is again getting on his knees to show him just how much he appreciates your pretty curves.
the world is loud but all you can hear is his voice, he makes sure you know it's the only one that is valid.
it gets easier because he is able to love you at times it's hard to love yourself.
#★ : my work !#f1#fanfic#formula 1#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#max f1#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris f1#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando norris one shot#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4 fanfic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x you#ln4 x y/n#ln4 one shot#formula one imagine#ln4 smut#lando norris imagines#f1 fandom#formula one
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Flirts IV
Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen
Summary: You have to go
It's not that you don't want to be there because you do.
It's that you have to go away for a surgery.
There's some rich woman in California who needs you to operate on her cat. She's paying an extortionate amount for your services and sending a private jet to pick you up.
You love those kinds of pet owners, the ones with enough money to fly in the very best if only because of the clear love they have for all of their pets.
But they're also clients you can't deny.
If someone wants to fly you out for enough money to keep a family afloat for a year, someone with enough influence to make or break anybody's career, you can't say no.
Even if your girlfriend is fighting for Euro's qualification.
"Do you have to go?" Mapi asks, sitting inside of your unpacked suitcase like she was Bagheera in a box.
Honey sits on the bed, head in her paws as she waits, tail wagging, for Mapi to throw her tennis ball.
"Yes," You say, trying to choose between your purple or your blue scrubs," It's a lot of money. Enough for that fancy holiday to the Maldives you guys want to take."
"But it takes you away from us," Mapi whines and Ingrid makes an agreeing noise from over by the door.
"I've travelled for work before."
"You're going to miss my match," Ingrid says and a pit forms in your stomach.
Before this job came up, you and Mapi were meant to be travelling to Norway to see Ingrid's last Euro Qualifiers game before going off in a camper van with her parents.
You'd still make it to the last part, depending on what the labs for this cat came back as but you'd have to miss the match.
You reach out for her, drawing her closer by the waist and resting your head on her chest.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I am, really. I can call up and cancel if you really want me to. I know a guy to recommend instead."
Ingrid sighs, her chin sitting on the top of your head. "No," She says," That cat needs the best care possible. We all know you're the best. Go and be a hero."
"I'd hardly be a hero. It's just surgery."
"Surgery for some woman that clearly adores her pet cat. What you do saves lives. I think that makes you a hero."
"You're so sweet, Ingrid."
"And hot!"
You laugh. "Thanks for that, Mapi. I'm sure she knows that seeing as you tell her everyday."
Mapi shrugs with a smirk on her face. "I'm sure it's nice to be reminded."
Honey whines on the bed and you roll your eyes.
"Throw the ball already. She's getting impatient."
Mapi frowns, waving the ball around.
Honey's eyes dart around erratically to follow it.
"She isn't barking, though?"
You laugh, crossing the space to take the ball and lay a soft kiss on Mapi's lips. "Because she's well-behaved, Mapi. She knows not to bark unless it's an emergency."
You throw the ball up and down to make sure Honey's still watching before you launch it out of the room.
She's off like a shot as Ingrid hauls Mapi out of your suitcase.
You still feel guilty though, through the flight, through the labs, through everything.
The cat is cute one, a little tortoiseshell with an amicable nature and a complete lack of awareness of her surroundings.
You've always been an animal person. You've always loved all of them but living with Mapi and Ingrid has just given you an even newer appreciation for cats.
The checkup happens quickly and the labs are already done and completed by the time you arrive.
Money really does move things along because all the charts are perfect and after what should have been a week long wait to begin, you manage to take a day to get over your jetlag and get to work immediately the day after.
Surgery is simple to you. It's easy and soon enough the cat is halfway to recovery.
You don't quite understand how private planes are hired and sent out, if someone has to book a runway days in advance or if they're open indefinitely.
The original plan had been for you to take a week to do this but now it's all done, you don't quite know what to do with yourself apart from stew in guilt.
You had planned to take your mind off Ingrid's game by throwing yourself into work.
You have no work though and can't help but imagine yourself in Norway with your girlfriends, curled up in Mapi's arms while Ingrid whispers to you.
You swipe away a tear as you head down for dinner, your host gracious enough to treat you to a meal for all your good work.
You've gone radio silent to your girlfriends but neither are surprised.
You're always like that when you go out of the country for work, focused only on your patient. You want no distractions.
Mapi sits slumped in her seat next to Ingrid watching Norway play their last qualifier, sighing to herself as she looks at pictures of the three of you together.
"What's with the pout?" Ingrid teases, running her thumb over Mapi's jutted out bottom lip.
"I miss her," Mapi mutters, feeling a bit like a little kid sulking.
"I know but she'll be here soon and then we go out exploring with my parents before heading back home for preseason. It's not that long of a wait."
"I don't want to wait at all."
"I know but-"
A body slumps down on Mapi's other side and both of them turn.
"I'm not really a fan of this hotdog," You say," It's not bad but I guess I'm not that hungry. Do you want some Mapi?"
You don't get an answer from her because she crushes you into a hug. The hotdog that you regrettably bought squishes between your bodies.
You don't complain though, especially when Ingrid moves into the hug as well, tightening her grip around the both of you.
"I thought you couldn't make it?"
"Money talks," You tease," And the owner felt a bit of pity when I told her that I'd have to watch this match on tv. Chartered a jet for me to come straight here."
"And the cat?" Mapi asks.
"The cat's good. Recovering."
"I'm so happy you're here."
"We're both happy," Ingrid says," So, so happy."
You grin at your girls, the smiling splitting your face.
"I'm happy to be here too."
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso
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Can you write something for Logan with a reader who loves physical touch but is kinda scared to initiate it because doesn't want to look clingy/needy?
Maybe they're talking with Logan and they go to touch his leg or his arm but they stop midway or they lean their head on his shoulder just for a few seconds and go back to sitting straight fearing they overstepped, idk stuff like this and how loga would react.
Thank youuu 💕
Close Enough
The night was still, the kind of quiet Logan appreciated after a long day. The two of you sat side by side on the worn leather couch in his cabin, a fire crackling softly in the fireplace. The conversation had drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. It was moments like these that you cherished most—being close to Logan, feeling the warmth of his presence.
But as much as you loved being near him, a small voice in the back of your mind kept you from reaching out, from closing the small distance between your hand and his. You were scared. Scared that if you let yourself touch him, if you gave in to the urge to lean against him, you’d be seen as too needy, too clingy. Logan wasn’t exactly the most open person, and you didn’t want to push him away.
Your hand twitched on the cushion beside you, fingers inching closer to his leg. You paused midway, your heart skipping a beat as doubt washed over you. What if he didn’t want you to? What if you were overstepping? The thought was enough to make you pull back, retreating before you could close the gap.
Logan’s eyes flicked over to you, catching the movement. He didn’t say anything, but the small furrow in his brow showed he’d noticed. You forced a smile and looked away, hoping he wouldn’t think too much of it.
Minutes passed, and you found yourself fighting the same battle. You wanted to be closer to him, to feel the reassurance of his solid presence. Steeling yourself, you leaned your head against his shoulder, just for a moment. The warmth of his body seeped into you, and for those few seconds, everything felt right. But just as quickly, you pulled back, sitting up straight as if nothing had happened. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own actions.
Logan didn’t move, but you could feel his gaze on you. The silence between you grew heavier, the crackling fire the only sound in the room. You swallowed hard, unable to bring yourself to look at him.
Finally, Logan broke the silence. “You don’t gotta hold back, darlin’.”
His voice was rough, but there was a softness to it that caught you off guard. You glanced at him, finding his intense blue eyes watching you, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
“I’m not…” You started to deny it, but the words died in your throat. He’d seen right through you.
Logan let out a small sigh, more of an exhale, and shifted on the couch. Before you could react, his large, calloused hand was covering yours, his grip firm but gentle. He didn’t say anything more, just left his hand there, the warmth of his skin grounding you.
“You don’t gotta be scared ‘round me,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “I know I ain’t the easiest to get close to, but… if you wanna touch me, lean on me, whatever… I’m not gonna push you away.”
The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d needed to hear that, how much you’d been holding back out of fear. Tentatively, you turned your hand over under his, your fingers brushing against his rough palm. He didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch—just let you take your time.
Encouraged, you leaned back against him, this time letting your head rest fully on his shoulder. Logan didn’t move, didn’t say a word, but his hand squeezed yours, a silent reassurance that this was okay. That you were okay.
For a long time, you stayed like that, the fire crackling softly in the background, the weight of your fears slowly melting away. Logan’s presence was solid, steady, and as you finally allowed yourself to relax against him, you realized that this was what you’d been craving all along—a connection, the simple comfort of being close to him.
“Thanks,” you whispered, the words barely audible.
Logan didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “Anytime, kid.”
And with that, you knew that you didn’t have to worry anymore. Logan might not say much, might not be the most open or affectionate person, but in his own way, he was telling you that you were enough. That your presence, your touch, was welcome. And that was more than you could have ever hoped for.
#marvel imagine#x men imagine#wolverine imagine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine one shot#wolverine#deadpool imagine
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oh baby he down bad: charles leclerc x black fem! reader
summary: three times when you realized you truly did have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger
warnings: crying, period mention, swearing
blog moved to @delewlew
author's note: this is the first charles fic i've written so please be kind...i hope you all enjoy it. i'm sick with covid and i was loopy on meds when i wrote this so i hope it makes sense 💀 comments and other feedback are welcome and appreciated!
whoisyn uploaded a story!
you laid in your bed curled into fetal position with your phone mere inches from your forehead. the room was dark but light enough to see half of your face as your eyes welled with tears. you rambled, "a few weeks ago when i was visiting new york i bought a bunch of takis and nerds clusters because they don't sell them over here in monaco and i went to go get a bag of both and i didn't know i ran out! i'm so upset i don't even want to settle for anything else." you wailed loudly, mixing in a few laughs at how ridiculous you probably looked but you had no shame as you hit post.
the entire day had been going pretty shit from the moment when you woke up and bled through your favorite pajamas to nearly passing out when you wanted to have a relaxing hot shower to make you feel better. now you were just laying in bed clinging to your body pillow that had lingering notes of your boyfriend's cologne. it was early in the night but your entire body felt like it was hit by a bus and you were one tylenol away from needing a stomach flush yet it didn't actually feel like it was helping. to make things worse, all you wanted was your boyfriend but he was supposed to be going out right after he got off of work.
you laid stiff in your bed in an obscure position because you found that was the only one that didn't make you feel worse. the door to your bedroom opened and your boyfriend entered wearing pajama pants and no shirt. you squinted through the dim light and mumbled, "babe? thought you were going out tonight? you had that thing." charles placed two bags of your favorite snacks onto your nightstand and responded, "i was but i found out through twitter that my girlfriend was crying at home." you turned your face away from him out of embarrassment because you were literally crying over chips and candy. he turned your chin back to him, "why didn't you call me, mon cœur?" you shrugged and reached for the bag of candy, "it wasn't that serious." he pulled you closer to him and you shifted positions so your head was against his chest. charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, "anything that bothers you is serious to me, darling. but, i am here and you have your snacks so we can watch your movie like we always do, yes?" you nodded and turned on Princess and The Frog which was one of your comfort movies since childhood.
whoisyn posted a story!
replies:
lilymhe WHP IS YOUE DEALER PLS 🙏
↳ whoisyn lemme ask charles
francisca.cgomes feel better bby <3
↳ whoisyn thank you so much ily ily ily ❤️
logansargeant i still have like 3 bags of hot cheetos and those nerds things for you from when you asked me to grab you some when i had a layover in new york
↳ whoisyn omg i forgot abt those! i'll get them next week if u bring em. ty ty.
alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you who your dealer is? she said you'd know what she meant
↳ whoisyn oh my bad pookie i forgot...but charles said he just has a stash of american snacks at his place for me. i'll bring her some next weekend tho dw ❤️
↳ alex_albon THANK YOU OMG I COULD KISS YOU RN - lily
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
you cut through one of the alleyways out of street view once you noticed someone had been recording you as you walked through the streets of monaco. most of the time you managed to sneak through the city without being spotted but today you had to make a trip to the mall where a handful of people recognized you immediately. as someone who was never in the public eye and lived as a "regular" person you were still getting used to people recognizing you and following you around. time and time again you'd gone viral for your fan responses when they asked for pictures or autographs, usually a laugh and "why, i'm not the famous one?" you were genuine with your interactions and were known for helping fans get autographs or deliver fan letters to charles at grand prix weekends. although you enjoyed this aspect of his fanbase, sometimes it was too much and you just wanted to live in peace like you used to. so you'd learned every back road and sidewalk to your shared apartment for quick escapes.
the alleyway was quiet and away from the few people that were walking and talking beside you. just as you were to round a corner you heard a soft meow. stopping dead in your tracks you looked around confused to where the sound was coming from. there was silence then another meow, and another, and another until you realized a small orange cat a few meters away was the culprit. the tiny kitten was shaking and wet in some fluid you only hoped was water, but by the smell it was definitely sewage, pipe, or garbage juice. you wrinkled your nose and held the helpless fur ball in your palm, "shit...what the fuck do i do?" the kitten nibbled on your thumb and you stretched your finger away, "don't do that i don't want rabes or whatever cats can carry." you looked over your shoulder and sighed, "well i guess i have a cat now... let's go."
once back in your apartment you put the small kitten in your bathroom tub on an old rag. the small animal meowed and mewed the entire time you rinsed it off with the only soap you had that was safe according to google. instead of drying it's fur with your blowdryer you just towel dried it which he continued meowing. you'd never had a cat and didn't know what it meant when kittens meowed so you just started rambling, "well that's so interesting you feel that way because i literally said the same thing too! like i don't even know why that would make sense because when you really think about it they always want you to think that but in reality the truth is the complete opposite of what they want you to believe." the orange kitten looked at you with its head turned to the side and you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me man i just met you." the cat meowed louder and you mumbled, "that was definitely a cuss word but i'll let it slide."
an hour later you had given the kitten a small amount of some canned tuna and it fell asleep curled into your neck against the towel you kept it wrapped in.
charles entered your apartment with his eyes on his phone as he called out, "i'm home- oh." he usually expected you to be in your room so when you were out in the main room on the sofa he was startled. you sipped from the smoothie you'd gotten from the fridge and looked up from the book you were reading, "hi baby." charles stared at the kitten on your chest then back at you, "hi beautiful." he waited for you to say anything about the new addition and when you didn't he prompted, "what do you have there?" you looked at your hand and held up the cup, "a smoothie." you took a long sip and the straw crackled loudly, "oh yeah i figured out how to make that one hailey bieber has at that overpriced place in LA. it's actually really good i see why people lost their shit over it."
your boyfriend nodded slowly and pointed to the kitten on you, "my love, please tell me why is there a cat on you." for a minute you looked at him as if he was making it up but then you realized you never got around to actually texting him what happened. he waited for you to explain because the story had to be good if you, notorious anti-pet owner, came home with a cat and let it sleep on you.
you told him while looking at the kitten, "yeah, you're a daddy now." charles replied with too much ease, "i know that you call me that but that cat does not." you looked up with an exasperated glare, "can you be serious for one minute please." charles chuckled and apologized, "okay okay you go, tell me why i am now both of your daddys." you raised your hand to throw one of the clean rags you hadn't used at him which he shielded his face from, "okay i'm sorry go ahead." as you retold the entire thing charles just stood there with a fond smile, finding the whole ordeal quite amusing. at the end of your story he reached for the kitten and pulled back his hand, "why is it slippery?" you answered, "i put coconut oil on it so it didn't get ashy." charles started laughing once more and you smacked his shoulder lightly, "hey i never had a pet besides a fish okay! i'm trying my best here." charles pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips, "and you're going to be a great cat mom too, you've already done a good thing."
whoisyn
liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 44,304 others
whoisyn happy birthday son to my son chisme octavius nortorious C.A.T. l/n-leclerc
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username1 WE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST CHISME LMAO WHY WOULD YOU NAME HIM ALL THAT-
whoisyn chisme bc if you pretend to gossip he'll immediately listen and start spilling tea too. octavius because charles said it sounded regal, and notorious C.A.T. for the culture.
↳ username2 LMAO YALL KINDA ATE NGL
charles_leclerc my two loves ❤️
username2 i need limited edition chisme x ferrari merch @/scuderiaferrari
↳ scuderiaferrari 👀
olliebearman i miss my brother
↳ whoisyn he misses you too <3
username3 i remember when y/n first found him, i can't believe he's a year old already :( he's so big now
username4 i thought charles said he wanted a dog
↳ whoisyn well i didn't find a dog, i found a cat. so we have a cat.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
the video had circulated on twitter only a few hours after it dropped and you'd noticed your name trending on the internet. after making the mistake of checking why you were trending once, you'd never really paid much attention to it again. the first time many people were shaming you for dating your boyfriend and making jabs at your physical appearance. rather quickly you realized it would be better to just keep up with silly memes your friends sent to you opposed to stalking every corner of the internet to see what people were saying about you.
this specific instance was charles in an interview and he'd mentioned you briefly while playing a game of this or that:
"do you prefer a weekend getaway to the coast for a snorkeling trip or the mountains for a skiing adventure?" the interviewer quizzed charles on his current vacation preferences. the driver asked, "is this by myself or with people?" the interviewer answered with a small smirk, "you and one other person- can be anyone, best friend, sibling, girlfriend, mom, etc." charles let out a laugh and knew what the interviewer was getting at and chose to went along with it for fan service. he thought for a moment then answered, "i think the snorkeling trip, my girlfriend likes this kind of thing with the fish, sea animals, and the diving in the water. that and she is better of a skier and snowboarder than me so..." out of the frame the interviewer laughed and joked, "a little mermaid moment, i love it."
you looked at the video and laughed when you noticed the small hello kitty band aid on his hand. earlier that week he'd gone with you out to the sea and you'd found a small cove to swim around in. somewhere along the way back charles had cut his hand on a rock and you'd put a little band aid on it from the only stash you had, and he had no complaints over the pink cartoon design. he found it cute and whenever he looked at it he was reminded of you.
whoisyn
liked by charles_leclerc, sanrio, and 53, 432 others
whoisyn oh, he look so cute wrapped around my finger 🎀
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username1 SLIDES 5 AND 6-
alex_albon drop the link for the shirt
username2 CHARLES GOT THAT SHIT AWNNNN 😤😤😤
↳ comment pinned by creator
hellokitty we love to see this 🤩
↳ whoisyn omg pls sponsor me 😍
↳ sanrio check DM! ❤️
f1 i'd play mermaids there
↳ whoisyn we did 🤭
↳ landonorris WITHOUT ME? 😞
↳ danielricciardo X 2 💔
↳ georgerussell X 3 😪
↳ whoisyn my bad...next time we'll send a text
username3 oh baby he's down bad
username4 no way in hell she got this man in hello kitty pants after a long day of playing mermaids 💀
↳ username5 just say ur a loser who doesn't know how to have fun
comment has been liked by creator
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
the end.
#formula one#formula 1#f1 fanfiction#f1 x black!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x black!reader#black reader insert#black reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic
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One step at a time. | N.R
Natasha x Fem!Reader
Summary: Natasha and the team help you cope with the loss of your leg.
Warnings: Detailed description of loss/Grief and mental health issues
Word count: 3,9k
A/n: Had something in mind..✨
The Tower was already buzzing with activity. It was rare for everyone to be together, but when they were, the Tower seemed to vibrate with energy. At the center of it all was you, the bright and lively soul who illuminated even the darkest corners of the team.
You had a way about you that drew people in. Your infectious laughter could lift the heaviest spirits, and your smile seemed to spread warmth. Your optimism and unwavering positivity were like a beacon, guiding your teammates through their toughest times. Everyone admired you, but no one more so than Natasha Romanoff.
Natasha was always the stoic warrior, rarely showing her emotions. But you had effortlessly broken down those walls. With your steadfast support and genuine kindness, you became Natasha’s closest confidante and, although she would never say it out loud, the anchor of her heart.
This morning was no exception. You bounced into the common room, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Good morning, everyone!" you called out, your voice like a melody echoing down the hall.
Tony, tinkering with a new gadget, looked up and grinned. "Well, if it isn’t our sunshine," he teased, causing the rest of the team to laugh.
You made your way to the kitchen, where Steve was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Morning, Cap," you said cheerfully, reaching for a cup for yourself. "What’s on the agenda today?"
Steve smiled, appreciating your tireless positivity. "Just a meeting in a bit. But first, breakfast. You know the drill."
As you were about to sit down with the others at the table, Natasha came in from her morning training. The moment she saw you, her expression softened. "Hey," she greeted, kissing you on the cheek.
You beamed at her. "Nat! I was just getting some coffee. Want some?" Natasha nodded, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, I could use it."
Days in the Tower were often filled with training sessions, meetings, and occasional sparring matches. You had a knack for brightening even the most mundane activities. You organized movie nights, cooked meals for the team, and always found time to lend an ear. Your favorite spot was the rooftop garden, where you often pulled Natasha to relax and enjoy the view.
One evening, as you lay in the garden, you asked Natasha, "Do you ever wonder if we make a difference?" Your eyes reflected the sparkling stars. Natasha was surprised by the question. "Of course we do," she replied firmly. "Every life we save, every fight we win, it all counts."
You smiled, a small, wistful smile. "I know. Sometimes it just feels like there’s so much darkness. It’s nice to have a reminder that there’s still light." In that moment, Natasha realized how much you meant to her. She placed a hand on your shoulder. "You are that light. Never forget that."
Your laughter snapped Natasha out of her thoughts. She watched as you interacted with the team, your eyes full of warmth and kindness. Moments like these filled Natasha’s heart with emotions she had long buried. She felt a protective urge towards you, a desire to shield you from the harsh realities of the world.
"Nat, you’re awfully quiet this morning," Clint, ever the observant Hawkeye, gently teased. "What’s on your mind?" Natasha offered a rare, genuine smile. "Just enjoying the moment," she replied, her gaze meeting yours again, making her heart swell with joy.
The mission seemed straightforward on paper: infiltrate an old HYDRA facility, gather intel, and get out. They had done it a hundred times. But as they moved through the dark, abandoned corridors, an eerie feeling spread.
"Stay alert," Steve's voice crackled through their earpieces. "Something doesn’t feel right." Eager to help, you moved up with Natasha. "I’ve got your back." you said, flashing a confident smile. "Just stay close to me," Natasha responded, her protective instincts kicking in.
They advanced cautiously, each step echoing through the silence. Tony’s scanners were active, searching for hidden threats. Suddenly, a blip on the radar caught his attention. "We’ve got movement," he announced. "Southwest corner, two floors down."
Steve gave the signal to move in. They split into pairs, covering each other's backs as they navigated the labyrinthine building. You and Natasha moved with practiced precision, your trust in each other evident in your fluid movements.
"How many are we dealing with?" you asked, scanning the shadows. "Looks like a small group," Tony replied. "Shouldn't be a big deal."
"Famous last words," Natasha muttered, making you laugh. As they reached the designated area, the building began to tremble. The walls shook, and the ceiling cracked. "It’s a trap!" Tony shouted, but it was too late. The structure collapsed around them.
"Y/N, Watch out!" Natasha called as debris began to fall. They dodged the larger pieces, but in the chaos, you were separated from the group. You called out, your voice filled with fear but still hopeful. "Nat! Tony! Where are you?"
A beam crashed down in front of you, blocking your path. You turned to find another exit, but it was too late. A massive steel beam, loosened by the collapsing structure, fell toward you. You tried to dodge, but it struck your left leg, pinning you to the ground.
Pain shot through your body, intense and unrelenting. You screamed, a sound that echoed through the collapsing building. The team heard your cry and fought through the rubble to reach you.
Natasha found you first. Her heart sank at the sight of you, trapped under the beam, blood pooling around you. "Hey, I’m here," she called, her voice trembling with uncharacteristic emotion.
"I-It hurts so much," you gasped, tears streaming down your face. "I can’t move.."
"It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you out of here. Just stay with me, okay, detka?" Natasha said, her voice calm despite the panic she felt inside.
The rest of the team arrived, and together they managed to lift the beam just enough to pull you free. They rushed you back to the Tower, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on them.
In the medical wing, the doctors took over immediately, wheeling you into surgery. The team waited outside, the air thick with tension and worry. Natasha paced back and forth, unable to sit still, her mind filled with fear and guilt.
Hours seemed to stretch into eternity. Finally, the doors to the OR opened and Dr. Cho approached the worried group. Natasha stepped forward. "How is she?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
Cho sighed, pulling down her mask. "She’s stable, but the damage to her leg was severe. We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save it. We had to amputate above the knee."
The words hit Natasha like a punch to the gut. She nodded slowly, trying to process the information. "Can I see her?"
"She’s still unconscious," Cho said gently. "But you can be there when she wakes up." Natasha nodded again and followed Cho to your room. She sat by your bed, holding your hand and whispering comforting words. When you finally began to stir, Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest.
Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked around groggily. "Nat?" you murmured, your voice weak. "I’m here, Y/N," Natasha said softly, squeezing your hand. "I’m right here."
You smiled weakly, your eyes beginning to clear. But then you noticed the expression on Natasha’s face, a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite place. "What’s wrong? I’m okay, I’m here.." you asked, a hint of fear creeping into your voice.
Natasha struggled to find the words, her throat tight with emotion. Before she could speak, Cho stepped in, her face serious as she chose her words carefully. "Your leg was severely damaged by the beam... Y/N, we did everything we could to save it, but… it wasn’t enough."
"What do you mean?" Your eyes widened, your breath catching. "I’m so sorry. We had to amputate your leg above the knee." Your face went pale, your voice trembling. "My leg… it’s gone?"
Cho nodded, her eyes full of compassion. "Yes. I know it’s incredibly hard to hear. I’m truly sorry."
The room fell into silence. You continued to stare at her, your mind overwhelmed by the news. "W-What..?" you whispered, shaking your head. "No.. I.. I can feel it, that-" throwing off the blanket, your eyes widening in disbelief at the empty space where your leg used to be.
You tried to move it, but it wasn’t there. The realization hit you like a tidal wave. You said nothing, just stared at the empty space, your hands trembling.
Natasha leaned closer, her voice full of empathy. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. We’re here for you. I'm here for you.“
But you were in shock, unable to fully grasp the reality of your situation. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to cope with your loss. Natasha stayed by your side, holding your hand and offering what comfort she could, knowing this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey for both of you.
The days in the medical wing were a whirlwind of pain, medication, and the constant hum of machines. You lay in bed, your eyes often vacant as you stared at the sterile white ceiling. Your once bright smile was gone, replaced by a hollow expression that pained everyone who visited.
Natasha was a constant presence by your side. She held your hand, whispered comforting words, and even tried to coax a faint smile from you. But you were distant, your light dimmed by the weight of your loss.
One afternoon, Steve and Tony visited you, bringing a bouquet of colorful flowers. "Hey, sunshine," Tony greeted, his usual confidence tempered by concern. "We brought you something to brighten up this place."
You glanced at the flowers and managed a small nod. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.
Steve sat on the edge of your bed, his eyes full of empathy. "How are you holding up?" You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "I’m okay, Steve. Just... tired."
They all knew you weren’t okay. The vibrant, happy Y/N they all loved was disappearing, and it broke their hearts to see you like this.
As the days turned into weeks, the team visited you regularly. Clint brought your favorite snacks, books to keep your mind occupied. But despite their efforts, you remained distant, a shadow of your former self.
One evening, as Natasha sat by your bed, she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You know, it’s okay to not be okay," she said softly.
Your eyes filled with tears. "I don’t know how to be myself anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "Everything feels different. I feel different."
Natasha’s heart ached for you. She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against yours. "We’ll find a new normal, Y/N. Together. You’re still you, and you still mean the world to us."
Finally, the day came when you were discharged from the medical wing. The team gathered to bring you home, their faces a mix of relief and concern. As they helped you into the wheelchair, Natasha knelt beside you. "Ready to go home?" she asked, trying to sound hopeful.
You nodded, but the sadness in your eyes was unmistakable. "Yes. Let’s go."
Back at the Tower, the atmosphere was subdued. You moved through the halls with a quiet distance, no longer organizing movie nights or cooking meals. Most of your time was spent in your room, avoiding the rooftop garden you once loved.
The team watched helplessly as you withdrew further. Your laughter, once a joyful sound that echoed through the Tower, was now a distant memory. You no longer greeted anyone with your usual cheerfulness, and the light in your eyes had gone out.
Natasha was the most affected. She missed the Y/N who pulled her to the garden to watch the sunset, who made her laugh with silly jokes, who had become her rock. She tried to reach you, to break through the wall you had built around yourself, but it was like trying to catch smoke with her hands.
One morning, Cho informed Natasha that it was time to remove your bandages. "It’s common for patients to need emotional support when they see their stump for the first time," she explained gently. "It would be helpful if you could be there for her."
Natasha nodded, understanding the gravity of the moment. She entered your room, finding you standing by the window. "Hey," she said softly, closing the door behind her.
You turned around, surprise flickering across your face. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I’d sit with you while Cho removes the bandages," Natasha replied, trying to sound casual.
"I don’t need you," you said, your voice rising with frustration. "I can do this on my own."
Natasha shook her head, her expression determined. "I’m staying, Y/N. No arguments."
You glared at her, but Natasha’s resolve didn’t waver. Finally, you sighed in resignation. "Fine. Do what you want."
Cho entered and began the careful process of removing the bandages. You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling, determined not to look. Natasha held your hand, offering silent comfort.
As the last layer of bandage was removed, you caught a glimpse of your stump out of the corner of your eye. Your breath caught, and you turned your head, unable to avoid it any longer. The sight of your leg..or what was left of it, triggered a wave of nausea and despair.
You tried to hold back your tears, biting your lip until it bled. But the emotional dam broke, and you began to sob uncontrollably. "I-Ican’t do this... I can’t live like.. t-this..."
Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, her own tears falling silently. "You can, Y/N. And you will. We’ll get through this together, I promise."
You clung to her, your sobs shaking your entire body. Cho, seeing the emotional toll, finished quickly and quietly left the room. The team, waiting just outside, could hear your cries, their own hearts breaking for their friend. They knew they couldn’t fix this for you, but they would be there every step of the way, offering support as best they could.
The days that followed were some of the hardest you had ever faced. You were engulfed by a whirlwind of emotions, grief, anger, and a deep sense of loss. The team continued to give you space, but they were never far away, always ready to offer support.
Natasha stayed close, offering a steady presence that you found both comforting and frustrating. It was a delicate balance, and Natasha navigated it with patience and love.
One morning, you woke up to find Tony standing at your door, a wide grin on his face. "Good morning, sunshine. Mind if I come in?"
You sighed and sat up in bed. "What is it, Tony? If it’s more flowers or breakfast in bed, I might scream." Tony laughed. "No flowers. But I have a surprise for you. Something I’ve been working on."
You raised an eyebrow. "I’m not really in the mood for surprises, Tony."
"Trust me, you’ll want to see this," Tony insisted, stepping aside to reveal a sleek, high-tech case. Curiosity piqued, you watched as Tony opened the case to reveal a prosthetic leg, crafted with meticulous precision and advanced technology. It was sleek and metallic, with intricate designs hinting at its capabilities.
"Is that...?" Your voice trailed off, your eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yes," Tony said, his grin widening. "I built it especially for you. It’s got the latest tech. It’s strong, lightweight, and it’s going to help you get back on your feet, well literally."
You stared at the prosthetic, emotions swirling inside you. "Tony, I don’t know what to say."
"How about we start by trying it on?" Tony suggested gently. "Natasha and I will be with you every step of the way." With a mix of apprehension and skepticism, you nodded. "Okay."
The process of fitting the prosthetic was meticulous. Tony and a team of specialists worked carefully to ensure it was comfortable and secure. Natasha stayed by your side, offering silent comfort.
As they adjusted the straps and made final tweaks, a wave of fear washed over you. What if it didn’t work? What if you could never walk properly again?
"Are you ready to try it out?" Tony asked, his tone encouraging.
You took a deep breath and nodded. With the help of Natasha and Tony, you stood up cautiously, feeling the weight of the prosthetic beneath you. It felt foreign, unfamiliar, but it also felt like a new beginning.
"Take it slow," Natasha advised, holding your hand firmly. You took your first tentative steps. It was awkward and shaky, and you nearly stumbled. Frustration and anger bubbled up inside you. "This is impossible," you muttered, your voice tinged with defeat.
"You’re doing great," Tony reassured you. "Just keep going, one step at a time."
You continued, each step harder than the last. The prosthetic felt unnatural, and your movements were jerky and uneven. After a few laps around the room, you stopped, breathless and frustrated.
"I can’t do this," you said, tears of anger and disappointment streaming down your face. "I can’t walk properly. This is useless!"
Natasha stepped in, her eyes flashing with determination and frustration. She cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. "Now listen to me, Y/N," Natasha said firmly, her voice both angry and urgent. "I know this is hard. I know it’s tougher than anything you’ve ever faced. But you have to keep going! I can’t stand to see you suffering like this!"
You stared at her, shocked by the intensity in her voice.
Natasha continued, her grip gentle but unyielding. "You keep talking down to yourself. But you need to channel that anger where it belongs. At us. At me! We couldn’t get you out of that building in time. I couldn’t get you out in time, be mad at us, but stop tearing yourself apart."
You felt a surge of emotions, anger, determination, and something else, something stronger. You nodded slowly, your tears falling faster. "Okay, Nat. Okay."
The following days were filled with intense training. Tony and the team set up a rehabilitation room, equipped with everything you needed to regain your strength and mobility. Natasha was there for every session, encouraging you and celebrating every small victory.
The training was grueling. You had to learn how to balance again, how to walk with the prosthetic, and how to cope with the physical and emotional challenges. There were moments of intense frustration and doubt when you wanted to throw the prosthetic across the room.
One afternoon, after a particularly hard session, you sat on the floor, sweat dripping from your forehead. "This is so hard," you said, your voice tinged with exhaustion and defeat.
"I know," Natasha replied, sitting next to you. "But you’re doing amazing. Look how far you’ve come." You looked at the prosthetic, your eyes filled with determination and a glimmer of hope. "I just want to feel normal again."
"You will," Natasha assured you. "Step by step."
As the weeks went by, your progress was slow but steady. You became more comfortable with the prosthetic, moving with increasing confidence and grace. The team watched with pride, their admiration for your strength and resilience growing with each passing day.
One evening, after a successful training session, Tony gathered everyone in the common room. "I think we need to celebrate," he announced, holding up a bottle of champagne.
You laughed, the sound bright and clear. "What are we celebrating?"
"Your incredible progress," Tony replied, popping the cork. "To Y/N, the strongest person I know." The team raised their glasses and toasted to you and the journey ahead. You looked around at your family, your heart filled with gratitude and hope.
But despite your progress, you often doubted your worth, especially in your relationship with Natasha.
One night, as you lay in bed together, you couldn’t shake the feelings of inadequacy that gnawed at you. Natasha lay next to you, reading a book, while you stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Natasha," you began hesitantly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha looked up, concern immediately etched on her face. "What’s wrong?"
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. "Do you still find me... attractive?" Natasha frowned in confusion. "Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"
You turned away, your eyes filling with tears. "I’m not the same person I was before the accident. What if you don’t want me anymore?"
Natasha set her book aside and moved closer, gently turning you to face her. "Y/N, look at me," she said softly. "You’re still the same person I fell in love with. Your strength, your kindness, your spirit..None of that has changed."
You shook your head, your voice trembling. "But my body has changed. I don’t feel like myself anymore. I’m afraid you see me differently."
Natasha cupped your face in her hands, her eyes filled with unwavering love. "Your body may be different, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re beautiful, Y/N, in every way that matters. I love you for who you are, not just for your appearance."
Your tears flowed freely, and you clung to Natasha, your fears slowly dissolving in the warmth of her embrace. "I’m sorry for doubting you," you whispered. "It’s just... sometimes it’s hard."
"I understand," Natasha said gently. "But you’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together, remember?"
Months had passed since your accident, and your hard work in physical therapy had paid off. With the unwavering support of your team, you had regained your strength and confidence. One morning, you woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. You strapped on your prosthetic and joined the team in the kitchen.
"Morning, Y/N!" Tony greeted you with a broad grin. The entire team was gathered, and Steve stepped forward with a small black box.
"We have something for you," Steve said, handing you the box. You opened it to find a sleek, high-tech communication device. "Is this...?"
"Welcome back to the team," Tony announced. "We’ve got a little mission for you, if you’re ready." You felt a surge of emotions. "I’m ready."
The team briefed you on the mission: a simple reconnaissance at an industrial complex. As they flew to the site, Natasha held your hand, offering silent comfort. Upon arrival, they split into pairs, you and Natasha working together.
As you navigated the complex, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You encountered a group of armed men, and your training kicked in. With Natasha by your side, you quickly overwhelmed the threat.
"You did it," Natasha said, pride shining in her eyes. "We did it," you replied, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment.
Back in the Quinjet, the team congratulated you. "Welcome back, Y/N," Steve said, clapping you on the shoulder.
You looked around at your teammates, feeling deep gratitude. "I missed this. Thank you all for believing in me." Tony grinned. "We never doubted you for a second."
As you flew back to the Tower, you felt at peace. You had faced your fears and overcome your challenges, stronger than ever before. With the support of your team and Natasha's love, you knew you were ready for whatever the future held.
#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov x reader#nat x reader#natasha romonova#the avengers#natasha#natasha romanoff x reader
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𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back with another Barbie princess and the pauper themed reading !! I hope this reading found you in good health and that you like it, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
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︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
You’ve experienced an ending (possibly even multiple ones) that were very heavy. It was the kind of ending (or a string of them) that came with a lot of pain and hurt but was inevitable, something that could simply not be saved. For many of you a lot of backstabbing and betrayal took place, possibly people bitching too. It could have very well been a whole group of people disliking you or turning against you. I’m strongly getting that you’ve often experienced people not liking you for any reason at all. For many of you, all of this took place at the same time (betrayal, people disliking you for no reason, etc.) You’ve lost a lot or at least feel a strong sense of loss (or have had to feel that way at some point). You have many deep wounds and right now, life seems to be more peaceful for you. However, you’re worn out, tired and disappointed. I need to give you a virtual pat on the back for the way you seem to be handling the situation though. You let things end even though you had to reach the lowest possible point mentally. You allowed yourself time and space to heal and recover. You have always been the type to try your best so you were just like “nothing more can be done now, I tried my best”. Right now, you’re really focused on yourself and your own internal values. Your energy is still not the most harmonious but the way you’re dealing with things seems to make it all harmonious again. You have released many fears and are still doing so. ‘I look to you’ by Whitney Houston is coming through for some reason. You’ve reached a point where you have a harder time trusting people and doubt loyalty but it doesn’t seem to be negative, obviously there are days when the voices do get to you but you’re able to tame them. It’s just that going forward, you want to choose and do what’s best for you. You’re still struggling emotionally but it’s only so that you can do even better going forward and yes, you have dealt with this situation really well. You should be proud of yourself because some of us wouldn’t have been able to think straight if we were in your place. You seem to know that whatever you lost wasn’t that great to begin with and every loss of yours has only led to more wins but one thing that I need to make you aware of is that everyone who lost you has received the biggest L, even if at that time, they were having the time of their lives, you’ve clearly won. You’re free to begin again. What has passed has passed. You’re free to, in fact, you have every right to believe that being in your life and someone having you in their life is a privilege. You’re free to believe that trust needs to be earned. You’re free to believe that you’ve had a string of bad connections and that their words, and actions hurt you so you have every right to feel bad and not want anything to with them. You’re free to believe that you don’t have to fully forgive someone to move on. You’re free to stand up for yourself and not feel bad for doing so. Even if you made a mistake, if someone is going overboard with punishing you by treating you shitty and disrespecting you, you have every right to stand up for yourself as long as you’re still aware of what you did wrong and are holding yourself accountable instead of acting as though you’ve never hurt a fly. You’ve walked away and surrendered which is the best that you could have done, I’m proud of you. You’re free to not want to communicate maturely with those who refused to communicate maturely with you in the past. You’ve always had a personality where you don’t mind compromising for those you love and because it comes so naturally to you, you don’t even bother to voice it out.
However, just because you don’t talk the talk, instead you just walk the walk, people act as though your sacrifices were not big. You’re allowed to have resentments against people as long as you don’t burden yourself. You’re free to find peace in the fact that you’re a great and loving person who has never minded giving up their ego for a greater good, that you’ve always looked at yourself and your loved ones as a team and that’s not a bad quality, you just didn’t know better and had people who weren’t the same as you, around yourself and that’s okay. You’re free to believe and know that you were not being difficult or trying to pick fights, you were trying to fix things because you really cared and wanted to give, and do your best. You’re free to forgive yourself for not voicing out your needs sooner. You’re free to not want to forgive some people, you’re free to deny that you weren’t even involved with certain people if that’s what brings you peace. Remember that the past doesn’t even exist, no one can narrate and decide your story except you, and the truth is, people cannot exist in your reality unless you let them ;). You’re free to not have empathy for those who didn’t have empathy for you. You’re free to be rude and standoffish with those who deserve it. You’re free to believe that it’s okay for people to leave such a bitter taste in your mouth that you wouldn’t want to help them even if they were living out their last few days with a beating heart. You’re allowed to believe that you’re not always the bad person, no matter how much you’ve been villainised, you’ve always tried to watch your actions and when you did make mistakes, you always tried to make up for them, and usually, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’ve often had people hate you because they’re envious of and feel inferior to you in some way but then they try to make it seem as though it’s your mistakes and actions that they hate you for. You’ve had people trying to isolate you, you’ve had people telling mutuals not to talk to you, you’ve had people trying to turn people against you just for the thrill of putting you down because it’s fun to try to bring down someone who they feel inferior to, it makes them feel superior, watching you question yourself but what they don’t seem to know is that you question yourself to better yourself because you don’t view mistakes as unforgivable sins, you want to take accountability, make amends, do whatever you can to repair the damage that you may have done and do better in the future instead of drowning in self guilt like they want you to 😭. Even if you did temporarily fall into self guilt, you managed to come right out and you always will. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person, you’re free to have faith in your own greatness and embrace your mistakes in a way where you put it all behind yourself, understand that however others have treated you has been wrong as well. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person no matter how many unethical things you may have done, no matter how much others have tried to villainise you. You’re allowed to be cold to those who used your mistakes to try to get you to break. If I was you, I would avoid doing anything that I could possibly regret doing in the future. You’re free to understand that many of your past actions have been shitty but those who jumped to try and knock you down to a peg were not saints either. If they did have a problem with what you did, they would discuss your actions, not your character, they just had a problem with you, and they would sure as hell not gang up against and isolate you. You are allowed to leave your past behind (including any of the actions that you’re not proud of) and do better in the future. Just remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to believe. When you find the place where your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to be seen. Many of you are interested in lifestyles that bring about a lot of eyes on you (possibly being a public figure). I don’t even think that you need to be known on a wide scale, it’s about the expression and success for you. You want to be able to make people happy and help them remain optimistic during hard times. You’re also supposed to be very generous. I just heard that the destiny that’s written in your heart is to belong to everyone, not in a negative way but in a way where everyone has a piece of the good deeds you’ve done inside their hearts and so you belong to them in some capacity. You’re supposed to have a lot of personal integrity and just be an abundant person overall. Even if you are not a public figure or an aspiring one, you’re supposed to be the light in many people’s lives. Due to how you’re going to belong to everyone, you’re also going to have to prioritise your alone time. To you, the time that you spend by yourself is going to be very precious. There are going to be people who are going to want to come into your life in order to dim your light and you’re going to have to find peace in life again and again. YES, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACTIVELY TRY TO ADD LACK OF PEACE INTO YOUR LIFE 😍. You’re meant to grow to be someone who’s not really that problematic. Which is why, you may have to step out of character a lot as a teen and early adult, you’ll have to learn how to stay firm in wanting to protect your peace and keep your character strong. Your destiny is to remain firm in your karma and have a strong sense of integrity. You’re supposed to learn how to protect your energy because you will have a lifestyle where you sort of belong to everyone but that’s not realistic, there are only certain people who deserve you in their lives, so you’ll have to learn how to balance it all. Karma is really big in your spread. You’re someone who’s experienced karma, often immediately. You’re supposed to learn many life lessons and lead a life of integrity. Your destiny if you manage to harness it, is to attain status and power but you’ll consistently have to work on balancing different aspects of your life (because you’re going to have it all). I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
Right away, you could be coming from pile 1. If not, much like the previous pile, you’ve undergone an ending too. Yes, this is in fact the ending of whatever situation or situations that took place but that’s the good news, that’s what you’re free to begin from again. When you’re at the lowest, the only place to go to is upwards ;). Who had potato and egg curry/likes it? Maybe, someone here is going to cook it or the dish holds some significance to you? It just randomly came through, doesn’t have to resonate for everyone. The ending doesn’t seem to be singular honestly, I feel like there was a whole cycle of multiple endings that took place but with many delays. If you ever find yourself feeling guilty about not getting over it or feel as though it’s your fault because you delayed these cycles, please be kinder to yourself. When things end, you’re left empty but what happens when a container is left empty? It gives room for new stuff to fill up that space. It’s important for you to not dwell on this ending - the guilt of not ending it sooner, wishing it had never ended, the emptiness you feel, etc. You’re free to begin from everything you’ve ever known because there is so much more in the future, in fact, even in the present itself for you to know. If you’re refusing to end a cycle, you’re only making it harder on yourself, I hope that you’ll be able to start again, no matter how much time it may take. Some of you feel guilty towards yourself because you know that you’re over it, you’re just not letting yourself let go completely. It’s become a habit to think about it, feel certain emotions when you reminisce so it feels foreign for you to move on and feel peace. Even if you’re still emotionally attached to the past, make the conscious effort to move forward. Please remember “no closure is a closure”. No matter how stagnant you feel or have felt, no matter how long you’ve felt it for, no matter how familiar the feeling is to you, you’re free to get out of this energy. Even if you feel as though you were unable to make the most out of your potential so far, even if you feel as though you haven’t achieved much, no matter how disappointed you’ve felt in yourself, don’t burden yourself with such feelings. You’re free to move on and achieve a lot going forward. “Though you may not know where your gifts may lead and it may not show in the start, when you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart.” Why are you so concerned about everyone? Why do you try to make things right with your actions even if you aren’t interested in maintaining certain connections? It’s because you’ve achieved a lot when it comes to character. If you feel misunderstood even though you’ve done a lot for others without even talking about it because that’s just you, if you felt betrayed, it’s them, not you. Fight against their opinions, they just dislike how you stand for the things that wish they stood for, they also dislike how you are the way they wish to be in some capacity.
Continue soaring forward with courage, resilience and conviction. You’re allowed to want what you want without always having to adjust to other people’s needs, desires, personalities, lifestyles and actions. Even if you may feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in the past, know that you were living by your truth of loving and keeping your actions in check, you’re always free to begin again and live more truthfully to yourself. In fact, now you know a lot more than you did back then, isn’t that in itself a blessing? Never let anyone influence you and your approach to interpersonal connections. You’re likely a more long term kinda person due to how much you pour into everything and everyone. You’re free to believe that you’re a great person even if you aren’t breaking your leg to please others. At this point, you likely know well enough about that because you seem to have a pretty strong sense of self or are developing it (and have been making good progress with it). You’re free to stand up for yourself and your beliefs. It’s time to be your most honest and authentic self now. You’ve likely started feeling called to it already. No matter how much pressure is placed upon you or how much you’re criticised or blamed, you’re allowed to believe in yourself. You’re allowed to have boundaries and to be fairly protective of yourself. You’re allowed to want to be pursued and want to be courted romantically. You’re allowed to desire to be wooed off your feet xD. You’re allowed to follow whatever your heart’s calling is. You’re allowed to move forward acting more graceful and strong in character and even physically if you’d like. You’re allowed to move your attention onto better things if whatever you’re focused on is affecting you negatively. You’re allowed to repeat mistakes as long as you manage to learn from them in the end. “I think all of us wanna feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realise how much we were leaving behind.” It’s okay to make sacrifices, it’s okay to make wrong decisions, it’s okay to learn, that’s how life is. You’re free to desire and believe in a true and deep love connection that you know exists because you’re full of the love that you wish to receive. You’re free to desire a deep connection full of mutual admiration, respect and love. You’re free to want to share your life with someone, just make sure that you’re not going into it with desperation. Your standards are not too high as long as you know that you’re asking for what you can give out. You’re free to want to be around wise people. You’re free to want to have a romantic connection with someone controlled, wise, ethical and respectable. You don’t have to feel bad about taking certain things seriously even if those around you don’t. Like supposing sex is a big thing for you, in this generation that’s kind of rare but it’s okay, do right by yourself. You’re free to have an impartial judgment in the beginning for your own good. You’re free to vet out and choose who deserves to be in your life and who doesn’t. It’s okay to want to strengthen your own character and reputation. You’re free to craft yourself and your life however you want, it’s your life to live.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to leave the past behind. You’re the pile that will either deal with extreme loneliness or isolation of some sort that will only lead to you changing and growing emotionally. If you feel like most things have not worked out for you, please just know that whatever has not worked out is exactly why thing’s are working out for you, you’re going to see it while you’re living your destiny. Somehow, no matter what you go through, no matter how many times you’re hurt, betrayed, etc. you are meant to only continue to become more loving. The more you hurt, the more you learn how to love (yourself and others) is the energy that I’m getting. It’s important for you to be in touch with the present rather than staying stuck on anything from the past, don’t even hold onto the regrets, that’s how you’re blocking your own destiny. You might be the pile that got shamed for being emotional at some point and being too nonchalant at another, you’re going to get closer to yourself which will ultimately lead you to being more in tune with your own emotional nature. The more you’ll grow, the more you’ll embrace and learn just how much of a blessing it is to choose to be ever loving in a bitter world that wants you to be bitter as well. The way you are, your sensitive nature, the way you feel, the way you love, the amount of devotion and loyalty you give out has led you to being hurt, disappointed and regretful several times. There have been times when people have terribly embarrassed because you tried to see the best in them. The clown emoji is coming through, gosh 🤡😭. However, the destiny that’s written in your heart is strongly intertwined with loving and loyalty, you value genuine connections and are extremely compassionate, as you grow older, you’ll learn how to not make everyone’s problems your own. You’re meant to learn healthy boundaries as you grow older, you’ll learn how to extend your love and compassion towards yourself, that’s how you’ll unlock a major part of your destiny. You’re supposed to come in terms with the fact that maybe you weren’t the problem after all. You seem to have taken “the world is your family” too literally, you take on everyone’s problems and sorrows, and try to love and help everyone. Especially when younger, that was what you were like.
As you grow older and finally realise that maybe you weren’t the problem after all, you’ll start seizing opportunities as you let go of regret. It’s going to be a bittersweet but beautiful time. No matter what you may go through, you’ll only gain more self awareness due to it. You’ll start focusing on the more positive aspects of life and yourself. You’ll eventually start having gratitude and find your zest for life again. You’ll learn that you’re not everyone’s mother or caregiver and that what you bring to the table, and who you are is deeply valuable. You’re destined to learn just a little selfishness, not in a sense of only caring about yourself but in a sense of putting yourself first. I’m not sure why but your sex drive keeps on coming through. You either masturbate quite a bit or well, just have a high libido xD. You might have started masturbating much younger than most as well. Doesn’t have to resonate but that’s what came through. I wouldn’t be surprised if this pile has a mother wound or just female figures being unsupportive and problematic towards you. It’s definitely not going to be everyone but you may find yourself having a bad experience with many female figures while growing up. It could be something as simple as you think that you’re good with a certain girl or woman just to find out that they dislike you. You’re meant to have it all, abundance in the truest senses. That’s the destiny that’s written in your heart. You may be the pile that’s not afraid to dream and not just dream but also try your best to execute it. If you have to give up on your dreams for whatever reason, you may feel terribly wrong from within. The destiny that’s written in your heart is a lot of domestic bliss as well. You’re meant to have people who accept and understand your differences in your life. You’re meant to be emotionally content. The reason why you have a hard time with short term, casual stuff is because you’re meant to experience long term deep attachments. The reason you’re so loyal, feel so deeply and know how to be dedicated is because you’re supposed to find worthy enough people to form such lovely and long term connections with. You’re passionate, don’t even try to suppress that true nature of yours by trying to explore some half hearted stuff. You’re well rounded so you’re meant to experience a well rounded life - a blissful home life, a great career, a strong personality and being proud of yourself, you’re meant to have it all. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
This could be the pile that may have lost their way temporarily or were unable to focus on things that mattered at some point (education, money, career, etc.) You’re free to start again when it comes to education and your goals (educational, career, character, skills, so on and so forth). It’s time for you to believe in your own maturity and sense of independence. You’re free to begin again no matter how many times you may have quit or lost your path. You’re a very responsible person who is focused on building something for yourself right now. You’re free to take on this identity wholly and start/continue showing up consistently for yourself. Maybe you used to be like this as a child, you had all your priorities in place but as you grew up, you started burning out or something just caused you to stray off your path. It’s okay, as long as you get back on track. You’ve always been a very helping and trustworthy person with a strong will. You used to be really reliable, responsible and ambitious even as a kid. Even if you feel like you’ve disappointed yourself, it’s never too late to get back to yourself and your goals. Believe in and stay firm in your own karma (actions/deeds). A routine would really help you. You’re free to start trying to make the most out of your potential. Maybe, you were pushed into a period of solitude causing you to realise that you need to get back on track? It doesn’t have to be for everyone, it’s only for a select few of you. You might have ended up overindulging at some point when younger which led you to straying from your path. It could be an overindulgence of anything - liquor, heartbreak, friends, freedom, etc. You may have wasted that time but the fact that you know what it feels like to enter such an energy means that you’ll avoid it going forward. It’s good that you’ve managed to live such different lifestyles and take on such different identities, just to get back to being yourself and realising that you always knew who you were, and that life is a lot about having the courage to live as who you truly are. If you don’t have a social life or have too much of it (envy, rivalry, lack of approval but also people around you) causing you to either think too much or not have enough space to think, just remember that you’re free to begin again. If you don’t have much of a social life currently, you’ve dealt with envy, rivalry, lack of approval, disappointments, end of friendships, etc. before.
Some of you may be going through it right now, if yes, you’re free to begin again, trust me, it’s going to get better ;). You’re free to believe that your next relationships (platonic and romantic) are going to be great ones. You’re free to believe that change is coming in and it’s going to be big, and in the best way possible. Patience is important here though. Don’t settle and don’t give into desperation or urges of any sort. You’re free to begin again when it comes to self improvement. You’re free to put the past behind you and patiently make the most out of the present while looking forward to a bright future. You’re free to explore and expand beyond what you thought your interests and aesthetics were limited to. You’re free to claim fulfilment. You’ve overcome so much, give yourself a little pat on the shoulder, will you? You’re allowed to go with the flow of things while consistently working on whatever you want. Consistency and patience are guaranteed to reward you as long as you use your brain and abilities to the fullest. Plan but don’t stay stuck on the planning phase. You’re doing so well, please be proud of yourself as well. While others may talk about how much they’ve done, how they are, like they may really boast it, you don’t boast because that’s just innately in you and why would you boast about something that’s just natural to you? BUT THEY’RE REALLY BIG TRAITS AND THINGS IN REAL LIFE! You’re free to let go of extremism in order to find peace. You’re free to make peace with situations even if they were one sided. You’re free to reprioritise and have faith in your priorities even if your priorities were not in the right places for a while. You’re free to move on from the life that was not flowing correctly. You’re free to heal completely even if no one witnessed it and you’re free to feel proud of yourself even if there was no one to witness how much you’ve grown. All work, no play will make you a dull one, please try to strike a good balance between studies/work and life. You’re free to try to manage life better. Your past does not exist, it does not matter. Believe in yourself and your dreams, your hopes and wishes will come true as long as you’re willing to work for them. You’re free to move forward with more confidence and passion, grabbing opportunities and communicating well. You’re likely already a great communicator, if not through speech, it may be through writing but believe in yourself, it’s better to go after the life you want rather than convincing yourself that you’re happy with an average life. Remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to begin, when you find the place that your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is quite interesting. You’ve always desired to be looked up to. There’s something traditional and old school that you want, the old school romance, the old school love, the old school family, whatever it may be. It’s because it’s in your destiny. You could be someone who doesn’t enjoy having jokes made about them or didn’t like them when younger. You do not appreciate being the butt of any joke due to how much you value mutual respect. It’s in your destiny to love and adore, and to be loved and adored. You’re likely the marriage type. You want an equal and all encompassing love in which your partner treats you like their own and you treat them like your own. You desire to operate with your partner as a team, a family, united and with each other instead of egoistic and against each other. It’s because you’re destined for that. You’re meant to have a reluctance to explore anything that’s not deep and intense (romantically). You’re meant to have moments when you feel unsuccessful, like you’ve not achieved much, like you’ve not been able to live up to your potential so that you can find it in you to strive towards it. At some point, you’re going to be like “I’ve always known who I am, who I want to be. I’ve always known what was right and yet I strayed off.” That was meant to happen so that you can be more confident in who you are. Due to your deep emotions and the way you feel responsible for everyone and everything, and you desire to have an ethical and good character, you tend to be confused a lot because people try to make you think that you’re doing something wrong? That’s the entire reason why you strayed off your path in the first place. You’re going to be pressured into making decisions without knowing what it is that you truly want. You’re going to find yourself being very emotionally overwhelmed at some point because you also have a tendency to feel things deeply. You won’t know what it is that you truly want. There will be a point where you’ll wonder if you even have faith in yourself at all. You might get severely betrayed at some point when younger, likely by multiple people but might have mixed feelings regarding them because the situations will just be so cloudy. Also, you’re a genuinely really good person so your desire for connection will lead you to treat people as if they are in the same team as you even if they aren’t because you will not be aware of it, you’ll have their best interests at heart but when all of this rose tinted glasses, confusion, fog or whatever you want to call it fades away, you’ll feel as though you lived in an illusion for a quite a while. You’re someone who has a lot of enemies due to your naturally great character. In this world, many people enjoy tearing each other down, you’ll have to learn how to strategically move through life. You’re able to be very strategic, it’s just that you have ethics and morals, and care about people so you try not to hurt them. You’re going to have to learn how to be yourself and follow your path unapologetically no matter who it hurts.
Many of your friends tend to envy you and want similar things that you want, possibly even love interests, don’t feel guilty about doing and choosing what’s best for you. Most of these people desire to be better than you because they do dislike you to some capacity, one more reason to not feel bad. You’re meant to be courageous enough to go for what you want, even if it might cause you to end up in scandals or ostracised because at the end, you manage to gain so much from it, in every way. “You need to be cold to be queen, keep your eyes on the price, Jenny Humphrey. You cannot make people love you but you can make them fear you.” You have had friends who turned out to be envious of you at some point. In fact, you often attract people like this but it does help you grow. You are going to learn how to be selfish with these people. With those who do deserve your love and view you as a team, you’re going to treat them as if they were you, you’re going to give them the best and will try your best to be there for them. Those who see and understand you are going to have your back at all times. You’re going to change and grow a lot through all the envy and one sided rivalry driven conflicts but that will only get you to be more morally driven. You’re going to become more empathetic, trustworthy and a great adviser to those who deserve it, and a selfish, cold person to those who don’t. That’s kind of your destiny because when you’re going to be all kind and giving, having the best interest of everyone at heart, viewing them as a team, they’re going to undervalue you and take you for granted. They’re going to abuse your generosity and giving nature, they’ll also be mean to you, as if nothing you give is enough for them, even though you’re probably the best that they will find but you’ll likely learn the lesson of putting yourself quite young (by your early twenties) because you’ll have already experienced a lot by then. You’re probably meant to be very charitable though. Also, the deep connections that you’ll have (both romantic and platonic) and I mean the healthy, non confusing and lasting ones, they’ll be sacred to you. Those people will understand you on a whole different level and will treat you with such care, it’s touching. You truly do deserve this kind of love. I’m so happy for you. When someone is like you, many will dislike you for your greatness while others will want to find both - more of your greatnesses and your weaknesses in order to love you, in order to have you in their life, in order to be in your life because they’ll see you as someone to treasure, because they’ll grow to love you more and more, the more they get to know you. This is sweet, isn’t it? You’re going to start craving strong and mutual love quite young and you’ll start having a mature approach to relationships. It’s likely because you spent quite some time in illusions while what you were giving out was very real so you’ll crave that same realness because you’ll know that you deserve it. Yes, you will receive it as long as you don’t bend into settling and staying stuck in illusions. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
#intuitive readings#pick a card#pick a deck#pac#tarot pac#pac reading#pick a photo#tarot pick a card#tarotblr
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I miss the days, way back when before October 7, when I felt like I was part of leftist circles. I miss feeling energised by leftist slogans because I thought they included me, instead of targeted me.
I miss hearing “eat the rich” and not hearing it as a dog whistle for “kill the Jews.” I miss feeling inspired by phrases like “our struggles for liberation are all connected,” instead of hearing its real meaning, “the Jews are the evil puppet masters behind everything and the world must unite against them.” I miss believing that when leftists talked about punching up at their oppressors, it wasn’t just an excuse to punch down at more vulnerable minorities that they decided were their oppressors despite all evidence to the contrary.
I miss the days when the left poured into the streets to protest cops and corporations instead of protesting Jews. I miss updating myself on those protests so I could join them, instead of to know which areas to avoid because they’ll be Judenrein for the day.
I don’t wish my eyes hadn’t been opened. I’d much rather see the truth no matter how painful and disillusioning it is, because the alternative isn’t actually “bliss.” It’s having a perpetual nagging feeling that something’s off but I can’t put my finger on it, or if I can then I must be overreacting or imagining it’s worse than it is.
But that pain and disillusionment is very real. That loss is very real. It was a community I thought I belonged to, a community I put a lot of work and energy into for many years, and there is grief at the loss of it. Grief that it’s gone, grief that it never was what it claimed to be in the first place. I guess I’m grieving the loss of that part of my identity. And grieving the loss of how people I thought were my friends and allies perceive my identity. Grieving the illusion that they were ever my allies at all, that they ever would be my allies if I needed. Because I haven’t really changed, but the way my former circles look at me completely changed. People who thought I was a good person and a good ally on October 6 decided I was the devil incarnate very literally overnight.
The person who privately reached out to me a few years ago to thank me for a Facebook post I made defending sex workers, because as a former sex worker they appreciated it. Now they’ve been posting antisemitic blood libel, the kind of rhetoric that’s already gotten Jews killed, for six months straight. I tried to tell them how much pain it causes me as a Jew to see their posts, and they only doubled down. It truly is their loss. I was a good friend and a good ally, and they threw me away because I’m a Jew. But it’s totally not because I’m a Jew, it’s because I’m the evil kind of Jew, the kind that just so happens to be the profile of ninety percent of the Jewish population.
I’m grateful I have such a strong sense of Jewish identity, because otherwise the loss of identity in this other way would be far more destabilising. I get why so many people cling to their political identities no matter how much cognitive dissonance they have to wave away; why they insist their ideology is righteous no matter how much evidence to the contrary. Without any other solid identity they would feel too adrift. But that doesn’t excuse their behavior. It’s not ok to jump on a bandwagon to persecute and kill Jews because you want to belong to something that badly, because you can’t handle your sense of self evolving with all the growing pains that come with it.
So many progressive Jews like myself have described ourselves as “politically homeless.” (Specifically in the diaspora; I know the political framework in Israel is completely different.) We can let ourselves sit in that grief. Being homeless is painful and uncomfortable, but it’s better than staying in an abusive home.
#antisemitism#leftist antisemitism#anti zionism is antisemitism#politically homeless Jews#israel#jumblr
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Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol
I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?
Thank you so much!
Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.
Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him
"ID Please."
While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.
The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."
You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"
After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.
You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing
The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.
He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."
He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.
"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."
"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"
Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.
"Just tell me."
After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."
"Yes. I am."
"That's young."
You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."
Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."
"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.
"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."
You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"
"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"
"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."
He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.
You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."
"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.
Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."
"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."
You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.
Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...
In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him
He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"
Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.
Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you
And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour
In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.
He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.
And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."
#Arthur fleck#Arthur fleck x reader#Arthur fleck imagine#joker movie#joker x reader#Joaquin phoenix joker#joker 2019#joker imagine#joker#the joker#dc joker
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Loving your toxic Slytherin boys series, I was wondering if you could do their reaction to the reader leaving them for someone else and how they would attempt to get the reader back. (Btw your talent is unmatched, I could never<3)
Slytherin Boys – What would they do to get you back if you left them for someone else
A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words – they are greatly appreciated! ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy what I've come up with! 🫶🏻
Warning: Toxic boys alert 🚨
Mattheo …
… would be shocked because how dare you leave him? The initial shock would very quickly turn into anger, his thoughts clouded by dark thoughts as he went into denial. He had rolled his eyes when you told him you were breaking up with him because of someone else. Who could you possibly be in love with if not with him? The smug grin never left his face when you stormed out of his room, thinking you’d be back in his arms by tomorrow. You weren’t, though. His eyes darkened as he spotted you giggling with none other than Fred Weasley.
All hell broke loose in Mattheo’s head – you had truly left him. His fingers twitched to reach for his wand. Everything in him screamed for him to hex the Weasley right in front of everyone but he knew that would ruin his chances with you. He would have to be more … discreet about getting rid of the Gryffindor male – but he would get rid of him. If he can’t have you, no one can.
Theodore …
… instead of attacking your boyfriend he would try to win you back – he knew you still had a soft spot for him. He’ll text you occasionally and sneak in love-notes into the box with your stuff before giving it to you. He’d even spray his cologne on everything and hide a few of your favorite pictures of you together with memories and dates written on the back of said pictures. The day you come to pick up the box, his fingers will linger on yours as he passes you your things with a sad smile on his face. He knew the effect that smile had on you.
Slowly he’ll creep back into your life, planting his seed in your head until you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
On what-would-have-been-your-anniversary, he sent you your favorite love song with a short ‘happy anniversary’ attached to it. He was lying on his bed when you came barging into his room after five minutes with teary eyes, wearing the hoodie he had sprayed his cologne on. You fell right into his arms, clinging onto his sweatshirt as you sobbed into his neck. Theodore quickly wrapped his arms around you, one of his hands stroking your back soothingly. “I missed you too, bella.” He muttered, cupping your cheek with his right hand as you lifted your head to look at him. He took note of the way your eyes lingered on his lips, waiting in anticipation as you drew closer. Finally – finally – you gave into your urges and pressed your trembling lips on his.
Too bad your boyfriend walked into his room with the potions notes that he had borrowed from Theodore the day before.
Lorenzo …
… will send your new boyfriend anonymous letters and notes with threats to his life. If those don’t work, he will be more aggressive: he’d boycott your dates, sneaking laxatives into your boyfriend’s drink or fumbling with his broom before quidditch practice to ensure he’d fall and break something. And if that still doesn’t work – because you somehow grow even closer after all the unfortunate accidents your boyfriend has – he’ll drag him to a secluded hallway and push him against the wall with his hands gripping onto his shoulders. Lorenzo threatens him and tells him to break it off with you before kneeing him in his stomach several times, drawing pained groans from your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend as he falls to the ground. Before he leaves, he will step on your boyfriend’s head with his hands in his pocket.
“I assume you got the message and I really hope we won’t have to talk again, because I assure you – you won’t be liking it at all.” He snickered as he pushed himself away from the whimpering heap on the floor.
He was Bellatrix’ son after all.
Draco …
… would straight out have your new boyfriend expelled from Hogwarts – but he had to be smart about it. He knew he couldn’t just go to Dumbledore and expect him to expel your new boyfriend without a good reason – not that Dumbledore would be easy to deceive.
But he’d make sure to sneak into the restricted section of the library and steal a few scripts to hide them in your boyfriend’s bag.
The next day very rare ingredients disappeared from Snape’s collection – ingredients that were needed to brew a very dangerous potion. When the Professors found the missing scripts and ingredients in your boyfriend’s room, they grew suspicious of him.
And if that wasn’t enough your boyfriend’s father was sent to Azkaban, accused of being closely connected to Voldemort – which was the last straw for Dumbledore as the professors finally agreed to expel him from Hogwarts.
Now, the only thing Draco had to do was sit back and console you while you cried – shocked by the truth as regret settled deep within you. How could you have ruined what you had with Draco for someone like him?
Blaise …
… would pay one of the girls to seduce your boyfriend at a party in the Slytherin common room.
He watched, with a drink in his hand, as your boyfriend disappeared in the bathroom with the girl he had bribed, just a few minutes after you had walked in.
He tapped his foot nervously as he waited for everything to unfold: After another two minutes the room to the bathroom was thrown open and you came rushing out with your hand over your mouth as tears ran down your cheeks – leaving black traces of mascara in their wake.
Standing up from the loveseat, Blaise put his glass on one of the tables before he walked after you.
It was his time to shine now.
#slytherin boys#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin#toxic slytherin boys#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini
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