#& i did not say a single unkind word to them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherienymphe · 21 days ago

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Suburbia X

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

“Thanks for coming.”

That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.

Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.

“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”

You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.

Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.

“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”

Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.

“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”

Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.

“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”

You abruptly stood, turning away from him.

“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”

You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.

“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”

“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”

“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”

Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.

“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”

The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.

“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”

You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.

“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.

It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.

He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.

“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”

So that was what he was calling it.

“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”

When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.

“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.

Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.

“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”

You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”

A lie.

He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.

“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”

He held your gaze with his own dark one.

“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”

His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.

“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”

Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.

“I’m not going anywhere…”

You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.

You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.

You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.

“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”

He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.

“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”

The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.

“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”

You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.

“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”

You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.

At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.

“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”

You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.

“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”

He shook his head.

“Don’t apologize for it.”

You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning.

The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love.

When he wanted to have sex with you.

This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.

…because you didn’t care what Peter said.

He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.

You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.

As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.

“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”

Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.

“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”

You stewed on that for a moment.

“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.

“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”

Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”

You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.

“Peter…”

“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”

“...but he’s my friend.”

The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.

“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”

The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.

“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”

You blinked at that.

“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”

His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.

“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”

He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.

“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”

His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.

You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull.

…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.

Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.

You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.

“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”

He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.

“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”

The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.

His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.

You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.

It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.

The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.

Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.

When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.

Peter didn’t waste any more time.

Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.

Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.

The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.

Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.

Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.

“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”

You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.

“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”

Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.

“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”

He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.

He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.

“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”

He didn’t give you time to respond.

“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”

Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.

“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”

Your wide eyes looked between his at that.

“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!Peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker x reader #dark fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

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beneathashadytree · 5 months ago

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A TASTE OF HONEY - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : insecurities & body image issues, chubby & curvy!reader, mentions of stretch marks, body worship, praise kink, marking, very mild breast & nipple play, implied cunnilingus, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : smut n loooots of comfort☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 1.4K words

Additional notes : This was a paid commission I made of a lovely OC with Sylus, and this version is just the slightly more non-specific version I took permission from my commissioner to post, so that all fem!readers can see what my commissions are like! If you’re interested let me know💗

Commissions are open here!

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Masterlist

“Another event, another dress with your name on it, sweetie.” Sylus’ grin as he walked into their bedroom would’ve almost been infectious, had her mood been entirely different than it currently was. Right now, though? His words seemed to have cast a curse onto her.

She had to fight against her growing irritation. It’s not his fault, he didn’t do anything to deserve it—unlike the majority of the times he’d earned her ire. This time, the dismayed feeling in her chest at the sight of the exquisite dress draped onto the back of the dresser’s chair was entirely because of her own racing thoughts.

“Skipping out tonight,” she simply mumbled under her breath, collapsing onto the bed with weary bones and an exhausted expression like she’d run a hundred miles. And she really had, just inside her head.

Sylus—ever perceptive Sylus—frowned at that, taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside her. “Tired?” Concern filled his eyes, and it only grew worse as she seemed to curl in on herself and burrow deeper into the mattress. “I could cancel.”

With a sigh, she shook her head “You’re Onychinus’ leader. You have to be there. My moods shouldn’t dictate whether or not you go.”

“You have the privilege of commanding me to do whatever you want. I say you abuse that right.” It was clear from his teasing tone that he was trying to get a lighthearted reaction from her, and upon receiving none, his voice turned softer. “Seriously, what’s wrong, darling?”

Her grip tightened on the bedsheet, blinking back the tears as she trained her gaze on her fingers. “I just… don’t want to wear that dress.”

Sylus was silent for a few moments, before he nodded. “Okay. Is it not to your liking?”

“Not really.” With a shuddering breath, she sniffled a little, trying to calm herself down as Sylus’ hand gently stroked her calves in a soothing motion. There was no point in getting so worked up after all, it’s always been the same. “Those types of dresses always show my stretch marks. They’re… kind of short. And tight. And weird-looking on me.”

Screw not getting worked up; her tears were dripping down her face at this point, her vision blurry and her heart heavy with each word that spilled forth. “It feels like every single one of these outfits makes my thighs look big, and my body’s not made for wearing them. It’s just… wrong, like I’m unworthy,” she choked on the last word in despair.

She could hear Sylus sighing, a twinge of sadness she’d never heard before lacing his words. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Firm in tone, yet not unkind, her boyfriend leaned in and rubbed her forearms gently, making sure to meet her watery eyes as he did. “These dresses only show just how breathtaking you are, and how you belong by my side.” A crooked grin made its way on his face. “If anything, it feels like I have to earn my place next to you.”

“No! You—”

“See how absurd it sounds?” His deep voice was soft as he gently nudged her on her back, climbing in on top of her as his fingers delicately brushed back her hair. “I can never get enough of you. Of every inch of you. I almost refuse to believe you.” His gaze grew impossibly softer, voice even quieter, and his hand even gentler as it traced down her ear, rhythmically stroking at her neck. “But I know that really is what you’ve driven yourself to believe. And I can’t blame you for that.”

Wiping at her own cheeks, she tried her best to make herself feel less sorry. “It’s no one’s fault but mine. It’s not like anyone else has been telling these things to me.” What on earth was she doing, crying to him over dresses? Or her appearance at some stupid events? Or was it simply her body? She didn’t know at this point. All she knew was that she wanted to stop feeling so distraught over something so…

Before she could continue that train of thought, Sylus had silenced her rushing brain with a slow, open-mouthed kiss and a steady grip on her waist. Even now, he was ever the tease, nipping at her lower lip and huffing out a fond laugh as he heard her breath hitch, before pulling back. In half-defeat, he said, “Maybe I’m the one to blame for neglecting to remind you of what I think of you.”

He peppered kisses down her jaw and to her neck, his teeth grazing and sucking at the warm skin there. With a hiss, her hand reached out to pull him closer by the back of his head, and all he could breathe out against her was a stilted, “How often I think of you.” Practiced hands almost blindly pulled down the strap of her silk slip for more access, as he left his bold marks across her neck. His hair tickled her, but she reveled in the feeling even more as he traced a path down the top of her breasts.

They were heaving with the effort of having to pretend she wasn’t falling apart at the seams with his mere touch, and he let out a half-groan as his hand reached out to cup one, while he sucked more hickeys onto the flushed skin of the other. It was too much, but somehow not enough to ease the growing ache between her legs. “Sy,” she whispered, a plea in his name, quickly turning into a whimper of pleasure as his tongue boldly flicked at her nipple through the silk. “Don’t be cruel.”

“Mm. I could never. My pretty girl likes it when I indulge her, I know,” he muttered, ruby eyes flicking up to meet hers and pinning her down with just a gaze as he kneaded at her soft breasts through the thin fabric, his touch burning through her like wildfire. “Tell me where you want me. What you want me to do, to show you how I could never stop wanting you and your body.”

Swallowing thickly, her fingers dug into his silvery hair, like it was second nature, guiding him where she needed him the most. “Want your lips on me, please,” she whispered, as if it were explanation enough for the sudden dizzying heat of the room, and her eyes swimming with unwrought desire. “Tell me you want me like this. I… I need it. Need you.”

The chuckle that spilled from Sylus’ lips was lovesick, and then his large palms pushed her smooth slip up to her waist and expertly tugged down the ruined lacy underwear. “As if I could stop wanting someone so divine.” He sweetly kissed her navel, then completely diverted from his path for a second to squeeze at her thighs, hooking them up on his broad shoulders.

Even between her legs, he looked invincible—more so when he maintained their intense, passion-riddled eye contact as he suckled at the skin of her inner thighs. “So sweet, so perfect right in front of me,” he sighed, almost in just as much pleasure as she was while he brushed his thumb back and forth near the apex of her thighs, mapping out every stretch mark under his adoring touch, and giving her hips a firm squeeze as his hands wandered everywhere they could reach.

Her head was filled with cotton, all her senses consumed by him and all he was. “I can spell out just what you want me to say with my tongue instead.” The very prospect of it sent even more molten heat pooling to her core. Sylus’ tongue would be her undoing. She knew it, her body knew it, and his grin that turned wicked meant that he could see perfectly well just how dripping wet the idea made her.

That smirk was almost predatory; like she was his prey, all prepped and prettily pinned for him. It shouldn’t have aroused her so badly, knowing that he’d torture her with sheer blinding pleasure and a sinful tongue, and yet she could feel herself clench around nothing. He was her undoing, and always would be, especially when his voice was such a low purr. “And you can ride my face until you can translate every filthy word. What do you say, sweetie?”

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago

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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

#sucess story #manifestation #law of assumption #dream life

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the-winter-spider · 2 months ago

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Invisible | Part 17

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU 🥰🥰

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Sad steve, a little angst, fluff 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

A/N: ugh finally is all i gotta say

Masterpost

Steve stepped into the apartment quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. The living room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a soft glow. Sam was sprawled out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, the TV playing a muted rerun of an old sitcom. He looked up as Steve entered, his brows knitting together in concern.

“Did you find her?” Sam asked, sitting up and setting the popcorn aside.

Steve nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. She was sitting on a park bench not too far from here.”

Sam leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “And? She okay?”

Steve hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before walking over to the couch. He sank down beside Sam, exhaling deeply. “She knows,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with resignation.

Sam froze, his jaw tightening. “Knows what?”

Steve looked down at his hands, clasping them tightly as if trying to hold himself together. “That I’m in love with her.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Sam sat back, his expression unreadable as he processed the weight of Steve’s words. Finally, he cleared his throat. “And what did she say?”

Steve let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “She said she doesn’t love me back. I asked her if she thinks she ever could, and…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before continuing. “She said at one point, maybe. She believes she could have. But now, with everything going on with Bucky…”

Sam nodded slowly, his eyes softening with sympathy. “Man, I’m sorry.”

Steve leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes as the ache in his chest deepened. “It’s eating me alive, Sam. Knowing that if I’d just made a move sooner, she could’ve been with me. Maybe she wouldn’t be so hung up on Bucky. Maybe we could’ve been happy.”

Sam let out a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. “Steve… you can’t do that to yourself, man. You can’t sit here and play the what-if game. Trust me, it doesn’t help. And honestly? If I’m being real with you, this was always going to happen.”

Steve frowned, his eyes opening to meet Sam’s. “What do you mean?”

Sam gave him a sad smile, his tone gentle but firm. “The universe was always gonna have it be her and Bucky. You’ve gotta know that. They’ve got that messy, complicated, meant-to-be kind of thing. And yeah, it sucks for you—it sucks for anyone standing on the outside looking in—but some things just… are.”

Steve looked away, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Sam nodded, understanding the weight in Steve’s voice. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared at the muted TV. “No, it doesn’t. And it’s not gonna for a while. But you’ve gotta find a way to live with it, man. Letting it eat at you? That’s not gonna do you any good.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh. “I thought… I thought maybe if I just held on, if I waited long enough, she’d see me. But she never has, not like I see her.”

Sam leaned forward again, his tone firm but not unkind. “Steve, you can’t do that to yourself. I know it hurts, but you’re stuck in a shitty situation. The universe has always been rigged for her and Bucky. That’s not on you.”

Steve’s lips twitched in a faint, bitter smile. “You think so?”

Sam nodded. “Oh, I know so. Hell, I figured it out back in college.”

Steve glanced at him, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Sam gave him a pointed look. “Remember when I asked her out that one time?”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, the memory rushing back. “Of course, I remember. You came back, said it wasn’t gonna work, and then you two were best friends from then on.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, that’s because thirty minutes into the date, I realized she wasn’t just talking about Bucky—she was glowing every time his name came up. I sat there thinking, ‘How the hell did I not see this before?’” He paused, his voice softening. “Doesn’t matter what she says or doesn’t say about him. She’s always been his, Steve. And I think he’s always been hers too. They’re just too damn stupid to admit it.”

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. “You’re probably right.”

Sam smirked, shaking his head. “Oh, I know I am. You should’ve seen Bucky that night I took her out. He didn’t say anything, but the guy didn’t sit still for hours. He kept pacing around our dorm like he was waiting for her to come back. And once I started hanging out with you and Bucky more, it was even clearer. Bucky looked at her like she hung the stars, and she was over there looking at him like he was her entire world. You couldn’t miss it.”

Steve leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. “So why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t she?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s just who they are. Stubborn as hell, both of them. And I think part of it is fear, you know? They’re both so scared of losing what they have that they’ve been too chicken to reach for more. But, Steve, that’s not on you. It’s not your fault they’ve been stuck in this endless loop.”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes clouded with doubt. “Doesn’t make it easier to watch.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Sam agreed. “But here’s the thing—you’re not second best, Steve. You’re not just a fallback option, and you shouldn’t let yourself feel like one. If it wasn’t meant to be with her, that’s on the universe, not you.”

Steve let out a small, bitter laugh. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Sam gave him a pointed look. “Not as easy as you think. But I’ll tell you this—there’s a world of people out there who would give anything to have someone like you in their corner. Someone who sees them the way you see her. And maybe one day, you’ll find someone who looks at you the way she looks at Bucky. She may be closer than you think….You deserve that, Steve. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Steve’s chest tightened at Sam’s words, but he nodded slowly, the truth of them settling in. “Thanks, man.”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a warm, reassuring smile. “Anytime. And hey, remember—there’s plenty of fish in the sea. You just gotta let yourself cast the line.”

Steve let out a weak laugh, but there was a hint of hope in it. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Sam said firmly. “Now, ill grab us a beer and lets figure out what the hell we’re doing tomorrow because I’m pretty sure the group’s about to implode.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Sounds about right.”

The two friends settled back into the couch, the weight of the conversation still lingering but lighter now. And as Steve stared at the muted TV, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Sam was right.

College First year

It was a crisp fall evening, the kind where the air had just enough of a chill to make you wish you’d brought a scarf. The campus was alive with chatter and laughter, students hurrying to and from the dining halls or bundling up for late-night study sessions. You’d agreed to go on a date with Sam, mostly because Wanda and Natasha had been relentless about it.

“Come on,” Natasha had said, practically throwing your coat at you. “He’s great. He’s charming. And let’s be honest, he’s got arms that could carry you out of a burning building.”

You’d rolled your eyes but agreed. Sam had always been easy to talk to, Steve said he was the better roommate out of him and Bucky, so that was a good sign and you figured if nothing else, it would be a fun night.

When he showed up to pick you up, he greeted you with his signature warm smile, a casual button-up, and a bouquet of flowers that was just the right mix of thoughtful and not overly formal. “Ready to go?” he asked, offering his arm.

The two of you ended up at a cozy Italian restaurant just off campus. It was charming, with string lights and the soft hum of an acoustic guitar playing in the background. The warm glow of the string lights outside the building made it feel like a scene straight out of a rom-com. Sam opened the door for you with a playful bow.

“After you, milady,” he said, flashing that signature grin that had most girls on campus swooning.

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. “Don’t push your luck, Wilson.”

Sam was, as expected, funny and kind, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. You laughed about your classes, swapped embarrassing stories about your friends, and commiserated over the sheer insanity of trying to balance everything college threw at you. He was cracking jokes and telling stories that had you laughing so hard you nearly spilled your water more than once.

“So, let me get this straight,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Sam recounted an embarrassing story from his freshman year. “You really thought sneaking a chicken into your dorm room was a good idea?”

Sam held up his hands defensively. “In my defense, it was my chicken. His name was Nugget, and he was a gift from my uncle. You don’t just abandon family.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I don’t think a chicken counts as family, Sam.”

“Clearly, you’ve never owned a chicken,” he quipped, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

As the food arrived, the conversation shifted to classes, mutual friends, and campus gossip. Everything felt easy—until Sam tilted his head, his playful smile fading slightly.

But somewhere between the second course and dessert, Sam tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “You know, I’ve noticed something about you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Oh no. What? Is it the way I hold my fork? Natasha said it’s weird.”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just… you talk about Bucky a lot.”

Your fork froze mid-twirl, and you blinked at him. “I do not,” you said quickly, your voice a little too defensive. “Do I?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant as your heart skipped a beat.

Sam nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. I mean, I get it—you’ve been friends forever. But it’s not just that. It’s the way you talk about him. And the way your eyes kinda… linger when you bring him up.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you quickly looked down at your plate, twirling spaghetti around your fork. “It’s not… I mean, Bucky and I, we’re just friends. Best friends, that’s all we’ve ever been.”

Sam gave you a look, one that was both knowing and a little amused. “I'm sensing that maybe someone, not naming names, is feeling a little more than just friends?” He paused, his smile fading into something more serious “Does he know?”

Your stomach twisted, and you set your fork down, your appetite suddenly gone. “No,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And please don’t tell him. I don’t even know what I want, and the last thing I need is for him to know that I’m…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “In love with him?”

Your head shot up, and you glared at him, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Sam said gently, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know how I didn’t put two and two together before, but it’s written all over you.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temples. “Well, great. Now you know my secret. Are you gonna tell him?"

Sam laughed, reaching across the table to gently tap your hand. “Hey, I won’t. But… you should probably figure out what you want. For your sake, not his. I don’t think I’m the guy you’re supposed to be out with tonight.”

You felt a pang of guilt, but Sam’s easy grin quickly soothed it. “Sam, I’m sorry—” You sighed, your fingers gripping your fork tightly. “It’s not that simple, Sam. Bucky and I… we’re complicated. And I’m not even sure he thinks of me like that.”

Sam let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Man, you’re both blind as hell. But hey, that’s not my business.” He reached across the table giving your hand a squeeze “Don’t be, I’m glad we did this. I mean, it’s not every day you go on a date and realize the person you’re with is completely hung up on their best friend. But hey,” he added, his smile widening, “I can already tell we’re gonna be the best of friends.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Sam said with confidence. “You’re stuck with me now.”

He leaned forward, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Now, if you’re done breaking my heart with all this Bucky talk, I have an important question for you.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What question?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he asked, completely serious.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “What?”

“Ghosts,” Sam repeated, his grin widening. “It’s a make-or-break question for me. We can’t be friends if you’re one of those ‘ghosts aren’t real’ people.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier easing slightly. “I don’t know, Sam. I’ve never seen one.”

“Classic ghost-denier response,” he said with mock disappointment. “But it’s okay. I’ll convert you.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “What are you, the Ghost Whisperer?”

“Exactly,” he said, winking. “And by the end of the semester, you’ll be a believer too.”

The rest of the evening was spent walking around campus, talking about everything and nothing. Sam made you laugh so hard your sides hurt, and by the end of the night, you felt lighter—like you’d gained not just a friend, but someone who truly understood you.

As he walked you back to your dorm, he gave you a warm hug, whispering, “Don’t wait too long to figure out what you want, alright?”

You nodded, feeling both grateful and a little overwhelmed. “Thanks, Sam. For everything.”

“Anytime, Ghost Denier,” he teased, pulling back and giving you a mock salute. “Now go figure out your complicated Bucky situation before I have to knock some sense into both of you.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you opened your door. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Y/N” he said , turning and walking down the hall. “And remember—ghosts are real!”

As you closed the door, his words echoed in your mind. Figure out your Bucky situation. If only it were that simple.

The city was quieter now, the usual hum of nightlife softened as you made your way back to your apartment. It was late, the chill in the air biting at your skin as you wrapped your coat tighter around you. Natasha’s words echoed in your head, their weight pressing heavily on your chest. Stop wasting time.

When you reached your building, your hands were shaking—not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what waited for you inside. You hesitated for a moment, staring at the door, before finally gripping the handle and pushing it open.

The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of the lamp in the living room. Bucky was still there, sitting on the couch in the same spot you’d left him hours ago. His posture was slouched, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together. But now, his eyes were red and puffy, the streaks on his cheeks betraying the tears he’d shed.

His head snapped up when he heard the door close. For a moment, neither of you said anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, your gaze fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing.

You swallowed hard and turned back toward the door, pressing your back against it as you shut your eyes tightly for a moment. You inhaled deeply, gathering the courage you needed, and when you finally opened your eyes again, you faced him.

“Do you mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.

Bucky blinked, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He stood slowly, his hands hanging at his sides, and took a tentative step closer. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, raw with emotion.

Bucky’s voice cracked as he answered, “It’s the only thing I’ve ever meant.”

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them wrapping around you like a second skin. You stared at him, your breath hitching as every wall, every defense you’d built, threatened to crumble under the sincerity in his voice.

He stepped closer, his movements slow, like he was afraid any sudden motion would shatter the fragile moment between you. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I’ve loved you since the day you tied your shoe in kindergarten and told me you’d be my best friend forever.” A hollow, broken laugh escaped him. “I think I loved you even before I understood what love was.”

Your lip quivered as tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. “Bucky…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I mean it, doll,” he said, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach out but didn’t dare. “Every girl, every date, every time I tried to move on—I couldn’t. Because none of it felt right. None of them were you.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, the sheer honesty in his gaze cutting through every doubt, every fear.

Your voice broke as you finally said, “You can’t just say this now, Bucky. Not after everything.” You wiped at the tears streaming down your face, frustration mixing with the flood of emotions. “Do you know how hard it’s been? To watch you with other girls, to convince myself that what I felt didn’t matter because you didn’t feel the same?”

He winced like your words physically hurt him. “I know,” he said softly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve been such a coward. I’ve spent years too scared to say it, too scared to ruin what we had, and instead, I ruined it anyway.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over as you looked away, your voice rising. “You didn’t just ruin it. You hurt me, Buck! You let me believe I was just your backup, your best friend who didn’t measure up to everyone else.”

His voice cracked as he took another step forward. “You were never my backup. You’ve always been my first choice—always. I’m just an idiot who didn’t know how to show it.”

You let out a sharp laugh, the kind born from heartbreak and exhaustion. “And Steve?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Did you ever think about what telling me about him would do? How I’m supposed to face him now, knowing what I know?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I know I shouldn’t have said it. I know it wasn’t my place, but I was desperate. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again—to Dean, to Steve, to anyone.”

“Steve doesn’t deserve this,” you said, your voice softening, your heart aching for the friend who had loved you quietly and selflessly for years. “He’s been nothing but good to me.”

“I know,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s why I hate myself for saying anything. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I couldn’t watch you slip away again.”

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling the frantic beat of your heart as his words washed over you. “You don’t understand what this does, Bucky. To us. To all of us. What if this destroys everything, friendships...”

He closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out but stopping short, hovering near yours. His voice was low, desperate. “Maybe it will. Maybe we’ll burn everything to the ground. But I can’t lie to you anymore. I can’t pretend I don’t feel this—don’t feel you—like a part of me I can’t live without.”

The dam finally broke. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I love you too,” you cried, the words spilling out in a rush, raw and unfiltered. “I’ve loved you for so long it hurts. But I don’t know how to trust this, Bucky. How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

“You love me” He breathed out like it was his last breath, he blinked away the tears of relief his hands finally found yours, his touch warm and grounding. “You don’t,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my life proving I won’t.”

The tears were falling freely now, both yours and his, as the weight of everything settled between you. His hands tightened around yours, and he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. “I’m all in, sweetheart,” he whispered. “No more games. No more running. Just us.”

The room felt like it was spinning, your heart pounding so hard it hurt, but when your eyes locked with his, everything else disappeared. In those piercing blue depths, you saw it. The truth. The love. The promise. The years of unspoken feelings and tangled emotions were laid bare between you, and for the first time in so long, you let yourself believe it—believe him.

Your body moved before your mind could catch up, surging forward, your lips crashing into his with a force that nearly knocked the breath out of you. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release, a culmination of years of pain, longing, and unsaid words. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, clutching him like a lifeline, while his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in so tightly it felt like he was trying to meld you into him.

The kiss was messy, frantic, and raw. His lips were warm, firm yet trembling with emotion as they moved against yours. His hands roamed, one tangling in your hair while the other settled on your waist, holding you steady against him. You could feel the desperation in the way he kissed you, the silent plea for you to believe him, to stay, to never leave again.

You broke the kiss for a second, gasping for air, but Bucky didn’t let you go. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both stood there, trembling. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t even realized were still falling.

“Doll…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You and me… we can make this work. We have to.”

The intensity in his voice, the sheer vulnerability in his gaze, made your chest tighten painfully. You nodded, your tears blurring your vision, but a soft laugh escaped you—shaky, but real. “You and me, Buck. Always.”

A flicker of a smile broke across his face, small but genuine, as if he could barely believe this moment was real. His arms tightened around you, pulling you so close that you could feel the steady thrum of his heart against your chest.

“I’m never letting you go,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. His lips brushed yours again, this time slower, softer. It was as if he was trying to memorize the feel of you, the taste of you, as if he couldn’t quite trust that you were truly his.

Your hands slid up to cup his jaw, your fingers grazing the faint stubble on his cheeks. You deepened the kiss, letting it linger this time, savoring every second. His lips were gentle yet unyielding, like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into the way he kissed you. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise.

When you finally pulled away again, your breathing uneven, he rested his forehead against yours once more. His voice was soft but resolute, every word laced with a quiet, unshakable certainty. “We’ll be okay. We’ll always be okay. It’s us.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, and for the first time in years, you felt truly whole. “It’s us,” you repeated, your voice a whispered vow.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader angst #james barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader

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freeabortionslol · 2 months ago

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don't marry him (quinn hughes x bsf!reader) ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

summary: angst, quinn talks reader out of engagement, unrequited love (kinda), reader is a lawyer, lots of flashbacks, italics mean flashbacks, not a single y/n used (yay!) warnings!! anxiety, panic attacks, cursing, intense argument a/n: okay so I rly didn't know what to do with this bc it honestly felt wrong to have him confess his feelings in this moment LMAO so I think I'm def gonna do a pt 2. anyways this was the fic from my drafts that the people voted for so here it is!! hope u enjoy :)

wc: 4.1k

“You lost.” Quinn said, staring out at the Lake, not making eye contact with you.

“What?” You asked, twirling your flashy engagement ring around your finger.

Max had come into your life at a time when everything felt uncertain. You were fresh off a series of career setbacks, questioning your worth and your ability to build the future you had always dreamed of. He was steady, charismatic, and above all, ambitious. Qualities you admired and felt you needed to anchor yourself. He made you feel secure in a world that often felt chaotic.

Quinn sighed, turning to face you slightly. “At life. You lost.” He mumbled out, taking a sip of his beer before turning back to the lake. Your face quickly softened with a hint of sadness.

“I-I didn’t lose. I’m happy and successful.” You said, your tone coming off with a hint of anger.

You and Max met at a work conference, one of those overly formal events where you spent half the time pretending to be interested in panel discussions and the other half networking. Max had approached you during a coffee break, his easy confidence setting him apart from the crowd. His suit was perfectly tailored, his smile sharp but not unkind.

Quinn took one look at you, shifting in his seat slightly. “Y-You…you don’t want this.” Your heart thumped slightly, cracking your knuckles to drown out the sounds of your own thoughts. “I’m scared for you.”

Max’s love came with conditions. He valued success above all else, and he expected you to do the same. Work always came first, even if it meant skipping family events or cutting vacations short for a meeting. He didn’t understand why you needed to spend time with Quinn, Luke, and Jack.

“Quinn, I love him. You know that.” Your brows furrowed in an attempt to make him understand.

The engagement came as a surprise, even to you. It was during a charity gala, one of those glittering events Max thrived in. He had pulled you onto the stage during his speech, getting down on one knee in front of hundreds of people. The ring sparkled under the chandeliers, and the applause was deafening. You had said yes because saying no didn’t feel like an option. Not with Max’s expectant smile, the cameras flashing, and the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“But do you like him?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you continued to fidget with the ring on your finger. The ring that was far too heavy to be wearing constantly, its band made of gold instead of your preferred silver. His words hung in the air, the weight of them sinking in your chest like a stone tossed in the still waters of the lake. His gaze remained fixed ahead, unwavering.

Max wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t cruel or unkind. But he didn’t see you, not the way Quinn did. He saw your potential, your ambition, but not the person you were when all the noise fell away.

“I-I…I don’t- of course I like him. What are you getting at?” You stuttered, confused about your own feelings on the matter. Quinn glanced at you with a side eye, taking another swig from his bottle before speaking.

“Really?” He asked, his heart shattering at the sight of tears welling in your eyes. “I see the face you make when he talks. It’s blank, unreadable. And when he laughs? Your eyes scrunch up like when we would drag you out of bed to get on the boat.” Quinn lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. “You really want to wake up next to his mustache every morning for the rest of your life?” You roll your eyes, posture slumping.

“Don’t make fun of him.” You warned, your voice becoming stern. Quinn bites the inside of his mouth before turning away. “I’m successful, Quinn.”

“Yeah-yeah, that’s great. You have all the fuckin’ money you could’ve wished for.” He huffs out with a sarcastic smile.

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me sound materialistic-” You crossed your arms, Quinn cutting you off quickly.

“Well it’s kind of hard when all you do is work and work-” His voice raises significantly.

“This is my dream! If you can’t accept the fact that i’m happy-”

“Yeah! And you’re so damn caught up in it that you don’t have time for us anymore!” He yells, sending you a look of anger. One you’d never seen before. He breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down as he moves to the edge of his seat. His eyes soften when he catches your expression, scared. He sighs reluctantly before he speaks again. “Luke notices the way you brush him off when Max is around. He notices how you never fly out to Jersey to see him and Jack like you used to.” Your breath hitched as Quinn’s words pierced through the air. His voice had calmed, but the raw emotion in his eyes cut deeper than his raised tone ever could. You looked away, not able to face the weight of his gaze, and stared at the rippling water instead. The golden light of the setting sun shimmered on the surface, mimicking the perfection you thought you’d built.

“Luke said that?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down, refusing to let it show. You didn’t want this, not here, not ever.

“Yeah.” He replied softly. “Jack see’s it too. They miss you.” Quinn turned his head to face you, your gaze still not meeting his. “I miss you.” You turned to glance at him, tears bubbling as you brushed a strand of hair from your face. You continued playing with your ring, biting your lip to hold the cries.

You sniffled, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “This is my life. I won.” You croaked out. Quinn sighed, leaning back in his seat as he swirled the beer bottle in his hand.

“When we were kids, my Aunt Julia came over to visit us during christmas. Do you remember that?” He asked quietly, catching you off guard in a moment of vulnerability. You nodded your head, continuing to bite your lip. “She asked all of us- Me, you, Jack, and Luke ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’” Your eyes softened quickly, bringing your knees to your chest. “Do you remember what you said?” He asked, his tone empathetic.

“Yeah, a lawyer-”

“A mother.” He interrupted. The words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. You froze, staring at Quinn as the memories hit like a tidal wave.

“I…I don’t remember that.” Your voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn gave you a sad smile, his eyes softening. “You do. You just don’t want to.” He brought the bottle to his mouth, looking out at the lake again. The two of you sat in the thick silence. Quinn, knowing he was winning this conversation and you, overthinking every little moment from the past two years. Tears began to escape your eyes as you stared out at the lake, refusing to look at Quinn. He turned to you, seeing how hard this conversation was for you. He wanted to pull you into him, let you cry into his shoulder until all the pain went away, but that wasn’t his job anymore. It was Max’s. The pain burned deep into Quinn’s chest as he recalled every memory he shared with you at this house. Jumping off the boat together on hot summer days, neighborhood barbecues where you would wear those short little sundresses he liked so much, your first kiss while playing spin the bottle together, and of course every deep conversation you shared on this back deck, in these exact chairs. When he was thirteen, he was sure of the fact that he would marry you. He never expected to be sitting here, watching you fiddle with an engagement ring that he didn’t buy.

You blinked, wiping the tears from your face as you decided to face your fear of confrontation. “I-If I don’t work hard now, I won’t have anything left when I'm old and burnt out.” Quinn’s jaw clenched as he processed your words, his gaze fixed on the lake but his mind clearly elsewhere. He tilted his head back slightly, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to suppress his frustration. Your lip trembled, more tears falling by the second as you looked away.

“H-He um-” You paused, taking a long sigh as you looked over at Quinn. “He says there’s no time for children in our career.” Quinn whipped his head over to you, his expression softening as he got lost in your words.

“He’s a piece of shit.” Quinn mumbled, shaking his head as he returned his gaze to the lake.

You licked your lips as you rolled your eyes. “He’s not a piece of shit, okay? He’s a good guy, you just don’t know him.” You said, your tone growing in frustration. Quinn looked over to you, mouth open, brows furrowed as if you’d just said the most unbelievable thing.

He huffed out a small laugh before returning his eyes to the bottle in his hand. “You’re fuckin’ delusional.” He let out quietly, taking another sip. You whipped your head to him, your frustration quickly bubbling over.

“Excuse me-”

Quinn was quick to interrupt you, his voice raised slightly. “You heard me. You’re fucking delusional if you think that’s love.” He rolled his eyes, looking back at you.

You scoffed, licking your bottom row of teeth as you let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” Your expression had become serious, your tears stopping in their tracks. “This is love!” Your voice carefully rose in volume. “I fell in love,” You laughed slightly, letting a slight smile escape your lips out of frustration. “You’re just jealous.”

Quinn’s face turned bright red as he took in your words. He looked down at his lap, then back to you. He bit the inside of his cheek, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle before speaking. “Jealous?” He asked, brows furrowed. “My god, you're so full of yourself sometimes.” He didn’t mean that and he knew, but you didn’t. You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears as your best friend tore you apart. “You seriously think i’m jealous of him?” He asked, his voice just below a yell.

“No, of me!” Quinn froze, his beer bottle mid air as the words echoed between the two of you. “You’re jealous because I found love and-”

Quinn slammed the bottle on the wooden deck, the sharp sound making you flinch. “Don’t.” He snapped, his voice shaking with anger. “Don’t twist this into me being the bad guy for giving a shit about you.”

“You don’t give a shit!” You shot back, standing up as your emotions boiled over. “You just can't stand the fact that i’m not following you around like a fucking puppy anymore!” Quinn stood too, his frame towering over you, but his expression wasn’t filled with intimidation. It was filled with raw, unfiltered pain.

June 23rd, 2012

Dear diary, today was pretty good. In the morning, Jack and Luke jumped on my bed to wake me up which sucked, but when are they not annoying? Anyways, they dragged me down to the lake for a boat day. We went with their dad and their brother Quinn (my future husband). Jack and Luke were doing this wakeboard surfing thingy so I decided to stay close to Quinn. He’s just sooo perfect. His hair is amazing and he smells so good. I wanna be his girlfriend like literally so bad but I can’t tell if he likes me or not. He held my hand when we jumped in the water which was literally the best thing that has EVER happened to me. Anyways, that was the most important thing that happened today.

“What are you reading? You don’t read.” Jack’s piercing voice pulled Quinn straight from focus. He quickly turned around, shutting the book immediately.

“Nothing uh- just something for school.” He stammered out. Jack furrowed his brows, crossing his arms.

“It’s summer.”

“Yeah, summer reading.” Only it wasn’t summer reading. It was your diary, something personal and private. Quinn was only reading it to find out where you hid the hockey puck you stole, but he stumbled upon a catalog of entries about himself. Do you expect a thirteen year old boy to not read it?

“Okay well, dinner’s in five minutes.” Jack said before spinning on his heel to exit the room. You liked Quinn, like really liked him and now he knows it.

“You need to think about what you just said.” Quinn said, his voice low. “Think about that and then compare it to every time I talked you through your panic attacks, or every time I picked you up at three in the morning when we were sixteen because you were too drunk to drive home, or every time I offered you a place to stay when your parents were fighting. Then, you can tell me if you think I give a shit or not.” He stared you down, his eyes becoming tense as your bottom lip began to tremble.

“I didn’t-”

Quinn huffed out his breath, interrupting your speech. “Do you know how hard it’s been to watch you? To see you become someone I don’t even recognize anymore?” His voice became stern, raising in volume. “You don’t smile the same way anymore. You don’t laugh like you used to!” Your breath hitched, the weight of his words suffocating. You looked down at the ring on your finger, the glittering diamond that once felt like a prize but now felt more like a shackle. “You think I don’t care?” His voice was quiet, but the pain in his voice was unmistakable. “I’ve always cared. A-And seeing you like this, wearing that ring, in this life that’s clearly eating you alive? It kills me.”

You licked your bottom lip, tears spilling down your face as you looked up at him. You swallowed the lump in your throat, letting out a shaky breath as you gathered your thoughts.

“Hey, babe. You almost ready?” You heard Max’s voice shout from the living room as you finished putting your earrings on.

“Yeah, just a second!” You yelled back, fluffing your freshly blown out hair in the mirror. You took a deep breath as you looked yourself up and down in the dark green bodycon dress that Quinn had gotten you for your 21st birthday. You’d never put it on, but you assumed it was fitting for a work Christmas party. Was it too much? You thought to yourself as you ran your hands down the sides, seeing that the length was about an inch above your fingertips. You decided it was fine and made your way out of the bedroom, purse in hand as you walked to the living room. Max sat on the couch in his tailored Prada suit, a bit pretentious to wear to a work party. His legs were spread wide as he had one hand on his phone, and the other on the back of the couch. He looked up from the screen to glance at you in your dress. You gave him a soft smile, your shoulders tensing up as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s a bit short, don’t you think?” He asked as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. You looked down at your dress, then back up at him.

“W-Well, I was thinking that a little. Should I change?” Your voice was shaky, filled with nerves at Max’s disapproval.

He shook his head, standing from the couch with his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the door. “No, no. We're already gonna be late with how long you took to get ready.”

There were little moments like that that clouded your mind as you stood in front of Quinn. Your breathing was shaky, your face now fully engulfed in hot tears as he stared into your eyes. “You don’t get it.” You let out, your voice just barely above a whisper. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to find stability. To feel…safe.” Your voice cracked on the last word, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself.

“Safe?” Quinn repeated, his eyes locking with yours. “Is that what this is? Because it doesn’t look like it. You’re not safe. You’re trapped.” He gestured to the ring on your finger, his voice lowering at the depressed sight of you. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words dug into the thoughts you’d been trying so hard to suppress. Quinn softened, stepping closer. “You deserve more than this.” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And I think, deep down you know that.”

You bit your lip, sniffling your nose before wiping your tears with your sleeve. “I’m in too deep. I can’t get out.” You whispered, finally bringing yourself to the point to admit it. You weren’t happy, you knew that, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Well, you thought you couldn’t until Quinn finally pushed you to the point where there wasn’t another option.

Quinn let out a sigh mixed with exhaustion and a hint of relief. He sent you an empathetic smile as he absentmindedly grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb against the back of it. “You can.” He said, his voice quiet. “You’re not alone. I’m here…if you need help. I’m always gonna be here.” Your breath caught in your throat as Quinn’s hand enveloped yours, his warmth cutting through the icy wall you’d built around yourself. His touch was steady, grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope. His words echoed in your head, soft and firm. You stared down at his hand, the calluses on his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as his thumb moved in slow, soothing circles. It felt so familiar, so safe, and the contrast to Max’s cold indifference hit you like a wave. You couldn’t help but let all the emotions running like a swarm through your head push you to the point of breakage. You began to sob, your eyes still looking at your hands intertwined as your breath came out in short, stammered increments. Quinn didn’t waste any time before pulling you into his chest, allowing your sobs to escape into his shirt as he wrapped his arms around your body. He held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a shield against everything that had been weighing you down. His chin rested on top of your head as your tears soaked into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. His hand rubbed slow circles on your back, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in ages.

“It’s okay,” He murmured softly into your hair. “I’ve got you.” You clung to him, your fists gripping the fabric of his shirt as if letting go would mean losing the only thing tethering you to solid ground.

The room began to shrink in an instant, reading the text from your mother. “It’s final. Dad and I are separating. You and I are moving to Gran and Pop’s when you get back from the lake house, so I need you to pack up everything.”

The tears came almost immediately, but that didn’t scare you. It was the feeling you got in your chest, like your heart was radiating pulses all over your body. Pounding over and over again, like the beating was the only thing you could hear. The sound of Quinn shooting pucks only made it worse, like each shot was another banging ache to your head. You tried to slow your breathing, but it felt like the most difficult challenge at that moment. Your breaths were short and hitched, gasping for air at any chance you got. Your hands shook as your phone fell out of them. You were terrified, you didn’t know what was happening. You couldn’t die, you were only sixteen. You still had so much to do in life. You tilted your head up, staring at the ceiling light, but that only made it worse. Quinn noticed when you didn’t say anything about the shot he’d just missed, immediately dropping his stick to run over to you.

“Hey, Hey. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He said frantically as he leaned down to where you were sitting on the floor. You tried to tell him, tried to speak, but your head was stuck looking up, and you felt like you couldn’t move it. Quinn placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your head down to face him. Your face was covered in tears, completely red as your mouth parted slightly. “Talk to me.” He said gently. “Please?”

You licked your quivering lips, trying your hardest to breathe. “I-I…I c-can’t. I can’t b-breathe.” His heart dropped at your words, the panic in your voice cutting through him like a knife. His hands moved to gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears even as more fell.

“Okay, okay,” He said softly, his own voice trembling but steadying for your sake. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re not dying, I promise.” You gasped again, your breaths shallow and uneven, your chest tightening with each attempt. “Look at me.” He instructed. “Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” He blew out softly, his eyes locked on yours as he repeated the motion.

You tried to mimic him, but your breath was quickly caught in your throat, sending you a fresh wave of panic. “I c-can’t Quinn, I can’t!” You cried.

“Yes, you can.” He reassured, his hands never leaving your face. “I’ve got you. I’m right here. Just take it slow.” You managed a small, shaky inhale, your body trembling as you followed his lead. “There you go.” He said, his voice laced with a small flicker of relief. “Now, out through your mouth.” Quinn stayed with you, guiding you through each breath as the pounding of the room began to dull. Finally, your breaths came easier, the crushing weight on your chest lifting little by little. You looked at Quinn, your face still wet with tears.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your voice hoarse.

His thumbs still traced circles on your cheeks as he sent you a soft smile. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

You stayed, sobbing into Quinn’s shirt as his grip around you tightened. He listened to your breathing patterns, looking out for a sign of a panic attack. He’d memorized you at this point. He knew the exact time to jump in, and he knew how to calm you down.

“Quinn, I’m so scared.” You cried out, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

Quinn moved his hand from your back to your head, running his fingers through your hair. “I know.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.” He leaned back just enough to gently tilt your chin up with his fingers, his blue eyes meeting yours. They were soft, but filled with an intensity that made your heart ache. “You thought you had to want this.” He said, speaking the words you never had the confidence to say. “Doesn’t mean it’s right. It doesn’t mean it’s what you deserve.” You looked up at him, not seeing Quinn Hughes, captain of the Canucks, but your childhood best friend, Quinny, who talked you through every panic attack, walked you home from every party, and gave you a bed through every fight between your parents. That’s what you deserved. Someone willing to give you that much dedication, not some pretentious lawyer who only loves you for your accomplishments. In a moment of determination, after wiping your tears, you dramatically pulled off your engagement ring, slamming it on the railing of the deck. The sound of the ring hitting the wooden railing echoed in the stillness of the night, sharp and final. Quinn’s eyes darted to it, then back to you, his lips parting in surprise. You stood there trembling, not from fear but from the sheer weight of the decision you’d just made. Your chest heaved as the tears continued to fall. This time they weren’t from sadness, they were from release. Quinn hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer, his hand hovering over yours as if to silently ask for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he took your trembling hand in his, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

“You-” He started, his voice breaking slightly before he cleared his throat. “You did it.”

“I did it.” You whispered, almost in disbelief yourself. You stared at the ring, gleaming under the soft glow of the porch light. It had once symbolized everything you wanted, but now it felt like a chain you’d finally broken free from.

#freeabortionslol #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #qh43 #imagine #hockey #hughes brothers

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jinwoosbabyboo · 13 days ago

Text

Xavier Where Did You Go?

What if Starfall forest won? What if the stars were rewritten only to have a few constellations missing? A/N: Did some editing and this really didn’t end up being that sad in my opinion but I hope you enjoy ☺️

Starfall Forest. You hate this place with a burning passion, but you keep coming here year after year without fail almost like you have to or else you might forget. The trees are still standing tall with their leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Spring is here and the forest is more alive than ever; you wish I could say the same. Time has been unkind to you yet this damned forest that took everything from you flourishes with unbending beauty. How can something so beautiful torment you with such ugly memories?

I hate you.

You take deep breaths and squeeze your fist tightly trying to will any tears to fall. Maybe if just a few of them fall again this emptiness in the pit of your stomach won’t feel so heavy. As always…..nothing. You've wrung yourself dry; You haven’t cried in a little over a year yet the scar attached to the memory of him leisurely eats away at your soul endlessly. You can’t handle the concerned looks and talks of professional help anymore. You haven’t lost your mind you're grieving and no one understands; how could they? This is the only place that makes you feel like you're any closer to him. You make it to the clearing that looks exactly as it did last year. And the year before.....

And the year before.....

The trees unbending the grass as green and plush as ever and the water dancing mischievously almost like it’s laughing at you. You kneel down to watch the water closely and the second you catch your reflection in the water a single tear falls. Cascading down your cheek and disappearing into the water reminding you how insignificant all of this is. You take your usual seat at the waters edge and pull your legs up to hug your knees. The silence is nice – well it was nice “I told you not to follow me”

You hear her breath audibly hitch behind you “I’m really worried about you”

You stared ahead not really looking at anything just letting your thoughts and the sound of the forest consume you. The last thing you needed were Tara’s watery doe eyes staring back at you with that same damn look everyone gives you. “So you’ve said many times” You sighed “I don’t need another lecture about getting help and I don’t want to be told that I'll be okay” You fiddled with the grass at your side not taking your eyes off the endless trees ahead. “I’m trying to forget him if that’s what you wanted to hear”

Tara laid down her jacket and took a seat next to you. You could see her concerned face in your peripheral “I want my best friend back” There’s a quiver in her voice that breaks your heart. You want to go back to normal, but you can’t. You remember everything even the memories that belong to someone else. You're cursed to wander now with past memories of a future that doesn’t exist.

“Tell me what happened” You gasp snapping my head in her direction. She gave you a sad smile and nodded “I’m all ears”

You know she won’t believe a word you say, but she’s the first person in four long years offering to listen. “I lost him right here” You drop your gaze and smooth my hand over the grass. “Right where you’re sitting actually”

4 Years Earlier…

“Xavier snap out of it! Look at me” You grab his face shaking it. His eyes are vacant as he stares at you – he looks like a shell of himself. “Xavier!” finally he blinks rapidly registering that you're standing in front of him. “You…” He’s dead weight in your arms as he falls to his knees dragging you down with him. “You…..need to leave” His breath is ragged and you can feel him slipping away. “I’m not leaving you! Tell me what to do I can help”

“Starfall….Forest will stop…..when it has enough power” Is that all it needs? He should have said something sooner you can use the aether core. “The aether core should be more than enough” You press your hand to his chest and pull him close.

Look at the clock and slowly let my eyes wander to him….

“You had a hooligan in your eye…..” What?

“They think we’re rivals….”

“Grandis Knight….”

“I’ve come back….”

“My star has left me….”

“You always lie….”

Fractured memories are flooding your brain as you resonate with Xavier in this moment. These aren’t your memories, but everything feels like deja vu. Your body is going numb as your muscles seem to lock into place with all of these memories just as you feel like you might pass out there’s a sharp pain in your chest. Your evols disperse and nothing, but soft wind caresses your face. A horrible cough rips through your throat and a copper tasting liquid seeps out from between your lips. Your body is heavy and it takes you a minute to realize you're no longer kneeling in front of Xavier; you're laying flat on your stomach while Xavier lies next to you. His breath is ragged as his evol continues to be drained by the forest. It wasn’t enough and telling by the pain radiating through your chest you've cracked the core in your heart.

You struggle to reach out and grab Xavier’s hand that’s also reaching for yours. He lazily intertwines his fingers with yours and you could see the love and pain in his eyes as the color drained from them. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I couldn’t …. protect you here …. either” He draws in a long breath and exhales on a dry cough. You're crying uncontrollably now because you remember everything.

“You left me Xavier” His eyes widen at your words. “You left me on Philos to come here” You draw in a ragged breath. “Why….” I can feel the warm embrace of deaths comforting hands slowly wrapping around me.

“You’re not a sacrifice I….” His eyelids drooped and closed for half a second too long before he opened them again “I needed to save ….. you” His eyes closed once more and you can feel his hand going cold. Your head is swimming with all this new information and it’s only making your death more agonizing with the pain of your brain trying to break free from your skull.

“You deserve….better Xav….in another life.…maybe….” You don’t have the strength to finish your sentence – just breathing was hard enough. Your heart is failing so you close your eyes – just for a moment – trying to find some kind of comfort. Nothing hurts anymore you must be on the brink by now. You're unable to open your eyes now just floating in a painless but simultaneously suffocating death. You died holding Xavier’s hand in his last moments the same way he held yours on Philos. Maybe you can love Xavier correctly in the next life.

In another life Xavier maybe you won’t have to sacrifice yourself for me. Maybe you won’t be alone.

Endless dark skies and stars float ahead of you just out of reach. This must be the end – you're crossing over. Suddenly you're being shaken awake you open your eyes to see Tara and Jenna kneeling in your face. They look like they’ve just seen a ghost; wide eyes and they’re yelling something. Everything sounds like it's underwater so it's hard to make out what they're saying.

“Over here!”

“We’ve got her!”

“Paramedics we need paramedics!”

“Hurry! She’s going cold”

You're still laying on you stomach with blood pouring from your mouth. Your eyelids are heavy and their words are still muffled as they try to comfort you. “It’s okay help is coming” You feel the weight of someones hands on your body moving you onto a stretcher.

“Xa…Xav….” They need to help Xavier too why are they only focused on me? He needs help save him not me please. “You’re going to be fine” Jenna says as the paramedics strap you down onto the stretcher to keep you stable.

No Xavier is dying help him!

You manage the tilt your head just enough so you can see him, but there’s no one there. Not even a sign that anyone was next to you.

Where did he go? Did they already get to him? I hope so….

“Did y-……” It’s no use all you can do is let your tears flow as you stare at the ceiling of the ambulance hoping he’s safe and being taken care. You're told to try not to talk; you can’t talk no matter how hard you try anyway. An oxygen mask is forced on your face and soon you go under again letting your brain shut down to heal itself.

You spent two months in the hospital and not a single visit from Xavier. He must be mad at you for telling him that he deserves better. That will all be fixed today though because you're finally cleared to go home. Lisa, Simone and Tara are all there to pick you up – you lightly jog over to them pulling them into a group hug. You pile into the car and head towards your place.

“You guys can go right in I have to go see someone real quick” You unlock your front door for them and head towards the elevator. You ignore all the hoots and whistles from them and flip them off while the doors close. You all, but run to get to Xaviers door you need to see him now; you need to make it up to him or you won’t be able to rest. You type the code in and the door beeps at you indicating the wrong code. “Did he change it?” You opt to knock on the door and your heart is pounding as you stand there waiting impatiently to see his handsome face.

The door slowly opens and you see an elderly lady looking up at you. Your brows furrow in confusion and you lean back to check the apartment number just to make sure you didn’t knock on the wrong door. No this is his apartment so who is this old lady? “Hi uhm I was looking for Xavier?” The old lady eyes you skeptically before sighing loudly. “Look kiddo whoever you’re looking for doesn’t live here I've lived here for forty years and I've never had anyone named Xavier come through here”

“I’m sorry?” Your heart just about dropped to your toes. What is she talking about?

“Have a nice day young lady I hope you find who you’re looking for” You could barely register her words before the door clicked shut in your face. Forty years? How could she have lived there for forty years? You wander back to your apartment in what feels like a daze. As soon as you get through the door your friends rush to you with concern on their faces.

“Are you ok?”

“What happened?”

“Come sit down”

“Does Xavier still work at the Hunter’s Association?” All three of them immediately freeze and glance at each other in confusion. Lisa takes a seat next to you and she’s looking at you like she doesn’t know what you're talking about. “Who?” You draw back in shock – your mouth opens and closes trying to find words for what's even happening. “Xavier you know six one light blonde hair always sleepy” Your eyes dart to each one of their faces and you can tell by the way Simone fidgets with her fingers and the way Tara avoids your eyes all together; they think you're spouting nonsense. “Why are you guys acting like this?”

“Us?” Simone jumps in “Babes we have no clue who you’re talking about” She tilts her head searching your eyes. For what? You have no clue. “Are you feeling okay you did overdue it on our last mission”

You spring up from the couch on the verge of a breakdown because you feel like you're losing your mind. “What mission? I was in the forest with Xavier we got pulled into a protofield and then…..then I was…..he” You're crying uncontrollably at this point — shaking violently at the memories that taunt your psyche.

“It was just you in that protofield” Lisa says softly; she’s standing next to you now rubbing your back. “There wasn’t anyone else there” You can’t handle this right now. You quickly escort your friends out of your apartment saying that you need some rest. You slam the door reveling in the silence as you try to calm your nerves while your heart is pounding in your chest.

For weeks you tried asking everyone who knew Xavier where he was, but everyone looked at you with the same concerned and confused look. They think you're going crazy, you're not, he was real you know he was your memories of him are so vivid.

Xavier where did you go?

Present day….

Tara sat quietly as you recounted everything that’s led you to this life of solitude now. “Reality didn’t truly set in until I saw the abandoned building where Jeremiahs flower shop was” A laugh slipped from your lips, but there was no amusement. “I know you think I'm crazy and I'm fine with that” You turn to see Tara digging in her bag for something — she turns back to you and holds out a tablet with a news story titled ‘CELESTIAL BODY PLANET FOUND THROUGH DEEPSPACE TUNNEL ; KING OF PHILOS MAKES CONTACT’

“Why are you sh—” My breath hitches in my throat when I see it. The icy blonde haired boy off to the left. His eyes are hollow and distant as he stares straight ahead. No sign of emotion not even a hint of a smile.

It’s Xavier.

“You were always talking about this Philos place and I saw this” Tara wrapped an arm around you squeezing you in a quick side hug. “Im guessing this is your mystery man?” You stare at the picture for what feels like an eternity. Your vision blurs as a wave of relief washes through you. You knew you weren’t crazy he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Your tears splash onto the screen and you're hiccuping from the overwhelming emotions pouring out of you. Thats when it hits you that you’ve switched places…..

Xavier forgot me….

The consequences of him forgetting you made it so that your future with him never happened. Which means he never backtracked to try and save you. You scramble to your feet just needing to sort out your thoughts by moving. “I have to get to Philos” Your words rush out of you sounding more like gibberish rather than English.

“That planet is dying we’ve been instructed to steer clear of it” Tara brought up a memo on the tablet explaining all the dangers of the tunnel and which planets we’re not allowed to go to. He’s just within your reach, but he's already slipping from your grasp.

Is this what he felt for all those years? You shake your head unable to accept this “I’m going I have to” You turned on your heels – storming off – determined to start planning this excursion to Philos.

Xavier I'm coming for you just wait for me a little longer.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads xavier #lnds #l&ds x you #lads x you #lnds x you #lnds xavier #l&ds xavier #love and deep space xavier #xavier lads #love and deepspace xavier #xavier angst #xavier love and deepspace #divider by saradika graphics #dividers by saradika #nikaaaaimagine

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yuki2sksksk · 3 months ago

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[ Trollhunter Guardian (Y/n) ]

Centuries ago

" There's a saying somewhere, to be careful when making deals with witches. " Angor Rot twirled the blade in his hands, sheathing them with a swift motion. " Lest one's fate be doomed. "

You raised your eyebrows but said nothing. The bodies of fallen knights around the two of you went ignored.

Angor continued. " You need something. " His firm, but not unkind tone indicated he was doing his role as the warrior of his village trolls, a protector he was.

His eyes trailed over to the mountain of sacks slumping over the roots of a tree behind you, the mixed scent of animal blood and greens could be detected easily with his enhanced scent. You shifted on your spot, tightening your grip on your magical staff.

" I bring animal coats that can be used for clothing material. " You offered, voice low. " Various herbs that can work on trolls too. You may find usefulness in my magical ability as well. "

Angor Rot turned his eyes back on you. Half a year since he last saw you, but the sharp and yet gentle gaze in your eyes still stirred something in him. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen you falter. Not now, even if you were just surrounded by men brandishing their weapons on you. You didn't falter at the slightest as you pierced their hearts with beams of magic, rendering them to a pile of corpses to be taken by the forest sooner or later.

He didn't need to ask what happened; not when the rims of your clothing were smeared with pinches of black, dusty ashes, and the loosely bandaged hands of yours that had charcoal like smell. Not when he recognized the kingdom symbols on the knights' armours, worn so proudly as they rode down to villages in search of their targets.

Certainly not when he knew of the fate that had befallen witches and magic involved creatures alike nowadays.

He walked over to you. " I'll put in good words for you with the elders. Lucky you, I have a room to spare. "

His steps paused at seeing the wave of relief washing over you so clearly. You exhaled a large breath, your knee buckling slightly and you ducked down your head.

" I didn't know where to go. I apologize for the trouble -- "

" Don't, " he said, kneeling down, " apologize for surviving. You did well. "

Angor Rot wouldn't mind if you cried, but the smile appearing on your face as you looked up at him rose a single thought that flickered in him even if it was just for a second; that he would do anything for you.

#no romantic feeling yet but the gratitude and protective sensation between the two of you starts off strong #angor rot x you #trollhunters angor rot #angor rot x reader #angor rot #reader insert #Trollhunters #trollhunters tales of arcadia #tales of Arcadia #trollhunters x reader

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originallandlockedmariner · 8 months ago

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I’m nothing special.

I’m just flawed and weak as the next person. I let my emotions get the best of me at times. I’m not perfect. I read old messages looking for clues. I listen to old playlists of sad songs when I’m sad. I swear too much. Drink too much. I can be selfish and impatient. I’m a sarcastic asshole for alarmingly long periods of the day. I regret choices I’ve made, words I’ve said in anger, people I’ve let down. I’m no role model. Wow, there’s an understatement. But every day I own my shit. I’m accountable and humble. Every day, I try to just be a little bit better than yesterday. Becoming who you are is a life long journey, baby step after setback after stumble after lesson learned. Forever forward. Green and growing as they say.

I wake up and look at those four framed sentences. “Be impeccable with your word. Don’t take anything personally. Don’t make assumptions. Always do your best.” Simple and yet powerful.

Every day, I’m trying to see things differently. Gain perspective. Embrace not taking every single thing personally. Getting cut off in traffic, not personal. Waiting forever in line for coffee, not personal. It is an uphill climb getting comfortable with the concept that nothing others’ do is directly because of you or to upset you. People do what they do because of themselves. That’s it. Even when they treat you awfully or take you for granted, it has more to do with what’s going on with them than you. *insert lecture about Attribution Error.

As for assumptions, I kinda have a PhD in that field. Never met a situation, never had a conversation, never waited for a text, that I couldn’t attach an assumption to. Assumptions are generally born from misunderstanding and a fear of asking questions. Fear of what might be said. We lack courage to inquire so instead we stand back and fill the void with the worst. Draw from our past pain and create a narrative. I’m trying to break that cycle. Ask more questions. Communicate. Be clear and upfront. I can no longer assume others know what I mean or want and then get upset when they don’t act accordingly. It’s unfair to them and only serves to hurt me in the process.

I’m making integrity part of my daily practice. Speaking with integrity. Actions with integrity. And above all, avoiding the trappings of believing my own landslide of bullshit, being my own worst enemy, and justifying every blunder. Be better. Sidestep gossip and small talk. Apologize when you hurt someone. Accept that you’ll be wrong sometimes. Or in my case, a lot. Do what you say you’ll do. Character isn’t built upon what you said you’d do, but what you rolled up your sleeves and actually did.

As for always doing my best, I’m still figuring out what that animal looks like. I strive to be helpful, but sometimes when you’re always available, they take you for granted, not because they are selfish or unkind, but because they think you’ll always stay. Let them miss you for a while. This goes against everything I am but makes sense. I’ve also learned that there is no shame in being broken and anxious and sad. Be whatever you are right now. No need to make excuses or try to minimize the hurt, deny the confusion. You cannot learn about yourself if at first you aren’t frustrated and confused, the hard questions are born from this. You cannot heal without first being damaged. So be broken and anxious and sad. Cope however you need to; as long as you need to, for there is no instruction manual for this, we all make it up as we go along. Day by day and more often, minute by minute. So as for my best, I guess it is just knowing that when I put my head on the pillow, I gave all that I could, was kinder than I needed to be, inspired a few, and made sure the garage door is closed.

I’m nothing special. But I didn’t lose my shit on the drive into work, didn’t assume sporadic texts were anything but a busy day, and a couple people told me that they are grateful for me - so I’m gonna just go ahead and chalk today up as a win.

@originallandlockedmariner

#me #my words

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yumekittyships · 2 months ago

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♡ an in depth analysis on floch forster's character ♡

{ very tired of people treating floch like a fascist nxzi, so i have decided to write this. please note that i am not agreeing with the things he did. this is an examination and analysis of a fictional, non-existent character. you do not have to agree with me, but please keep any hateful or unkind comments to yourself! }

- First and foremost, I'd like to address how I feel that Floch reached the point of the man he'd become in the events of the final season. I'd like to note that, when the events of the final battle at shiganshina happened, Floch was only 15. In addition, he is the ONLY person from that mission that lived to remember Erwin's final speech. It's also important to note that Erwin is not meant to be a good person. He is written as a man who sends child soldiers to their deaths on suicide missions for "the greater good". This is not an attack on Erwin's character, but I firmly believe that this detail is important in Floch's development.

- Now, I'd like to touch on Erwin's character a bit. Anyone who knows Attack On Titan knows that it is a story that is not meant to paint any one side as good or bad. The moral grounds of any given character are more or less very grey, and open to interpretation by the viewer. Erwin, despite being a commander, is not meant to be a good person. That said, I'm not saying he is meant to be a bad person either. That is entirely up to viewer discretion. What i will state about Erwin are the facts. He has sent hundreds of soldiers on suicide missions, he has used his soldiers as bait, he is 100% the type of man that treats his soldiers as sacrificial lambs for a greater cause. Commander Erwin can be viewed as an island devil with justifiable reason. I believe that this is what Floch saw him as.

- Now, before anyone gets mad and says Floch never thought Erwin was a devil, I encourage you to continue reading and/or give Floch's arc a rewatch. He and his comrades learned of the Marleyans, and learned how lowly they thought of Eldians. He learned that Marleyans viewed Eldians as "filthy island devils". This is where Erwin's influence comes into play. The final battle at shiganshina was a MASSIVE turning point for Floch, because it was likely the single most traumatizing and life changing thing he had ever experienced. He was the singular, sole survivor, having watched every last one of his comrades AND his commander die at the hands of one of the Marleyans. Now I will leave Erwin's speech here for reference.

Everything that you thought had meaning: every hope, dream, or moment of happiness. None of it matters as you lie bleeding out on the battlefield. None of it changes what a speeding rock does to a body, we all die. But does that mean our lives are meaningless? Does that mean that there was no point in our being born? Would you say that of our slain comrades? What about their lives? Were they meaningless?... They were not! Their memory serves as an example to us all! The courageous fallen! The anguished fallen! Their lives have meaning because we the living refuse to forget them! And as we ride to certain death, we trust our successors to do the same for us! Because my soldiers do not buckle or yield when faced with the cruelty of this world! My soldiers push forward! My soldiers scream out! My soldiers RAAAAAGE!

- These final words are something Floch carries with him, and even references later on in the show iirc. Even later during Erwin's memorial service, Floch says something along the lines of "I know I'm just titan fodder, that my life is meaningless,". This shows how much Erwin, and his time as a solider affected him. He has internalized the belief that he is an expendable body in the field, that it is his duty to die for the cause. Floch decides later on that the cause worth dying for is protecting Eldia, at ANY cost. He does not have any regard for the lives that will be lost, because he has been taught and shown that death is inevitable, and has internalized the belief that everyone must sacrifice themselves for the greater good. If not everyone, then at least himself. This is proven by his sheer resilience and the way he fought until the bitter end, even knowing he wouldn't make it out alive.

- Why did Floch choose to become a yeagerist instead of being part of the alliance? That much is simple. We can assume from canon interactions between him and Eren that the two were close when it came down to the final years before the rumbling. Not necessarily close as friends, but as comrades. We can also assume that Eren passed on his beliefs to Floch, that Eldia would fall if it did not defend itself against Marley. I believe it's during this time that Floch decides that, in order to save Eldia, he must become the devil that the Marleyans say he is. This belief is only solidified by looking back at Erwin, and the sacrifices he made, the soldiers he sent to their deaths, all for the sake of Eldia's future.

- Floch grew to be ruthless towards the enemy and anyone who stood in his way, because in his eyes, it was the only way to save Paradis from falling into a sea of blood. He believed that Paradis NEEDED to become the devils they were perceived as, because if they didn't, they would all die. In his eyes, it was either "submit and die, or become the devil and win". He was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything if it meant fighting for his home. While it's not canon that Eren manipulated Floch, it can certainly be perceived that way. Whether Eren manipulated him or not, there is no denying that Floch was heavily influenced by Eren. This was not because of some personal bond or connection, this is because Floch viewed Eren as a savior for Eldia. He believed that Eren's plan to start the rumbling was the only way to save Paradis, even if it meant killing everyone else. Because to him, everyone outside the walls was an enemy. In Floch's eyes, this was a fair sacrifice if it meant a safe and sound future for Eldia.

- Now, once again, I am not telling you that Floch's way of thinking was correct or justified. This is an analysis of how he reached that point, and why he did what he did. I may have missed some things, so if I did, feel free to let me know.

#aot floch #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan floch #floch forster #floch aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk floch

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yo-yo-yungi · 9 months ago

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MY LOVE, MY GRATITUDE - JEONG YUNHO - SFW

Yunho x reader

Genre: angst

Warning list: Angst- so you know, it ain’t happy. Mentions of a fall (no serious damage), mentions of a scar on the readers knee, mentions of food

Word count: 583

Summary: sometimes letters are made to be sent. Other times, letters are for the words we regret never saying.

Dear Yunho,

I wish I had sent this letter years ago, now it's too late. How am I supposed to confess when you look at her the way I look at you? Why did it take you only 2 months to ask her out, when I've been waiting for 10 years? Yunho, I've known you for so long, seen the good, the bad, and the ugly (yes, like the cowboys - yes, I'm a dork). We've known each other since we were 12 - is that the issue? Do you see me as a sister? I doubt it, especially since you kissed me at the Halloween party. Yes, you were drunk. No, I never mentioned it. But have I been thinking about it every second of every day since then? Yes.

I frequently revisit the photos of you stored on my phone. There are over 1,000 of them... you always had a habit of taking selfies whenever I left my phone unattended. Oh how I long for you to do that again.

When I look at photos, they can't compare to a single glance at you. Your beauty cannot be fully captured in an image; it's not the same as seeing you in person. Could you walk past me one last time? No need for a sly wink or even a glance my way, just walk... I'll be watching.

Did you watch the sunset with her as you did with me? I should have confessed my love to you then, should have expressed how those moments meant everything to me.

The little moments with you are etched into my memory like sacred scripture. I can’t look at a tulip without remembering the time you got me some for my birthday, I can't look at a toothbrush without remembering all our childhood sleepovers. Yunho, even my own desk brings back memories of you falling off the chair. But… worst of all, the one that bothers me the most… I can’t look at myself without thinking of you. You changed me, both physically and mentally. Like that scar that graces my knee from when you pushed me a little too hard and I fell to the concrete… I’m sorry by the way, that was my fault… I shouldn’t have said the cupcakes you made were ugly. I loved them… truly. Every time I see that mark on my knee I think of you. It’s not fair…

Whenever someone mentions my considerate nature, I think of you, because you were the one who taught me that. Before I met you, I was unkind and harsh. Why did you give me a chance? You, this beacon of positivity, why did you give me a chance? Is it selfish to wish you hadn't? Because now I'm left with an emptiness in my heart. It stings like a fresh wound - I understand this may not be the best metaphor, but I don't care.

Yunho, I'll put it simply-

I am absolutely, desperately, unconditionally in love with you and everything that you are. If I can turn back time and tell you how I felt before you met her- I would- but I can’t do that now… it’s selfish. You taught me that selfishness isn’t a good look on anyone.

Since I can't express my love for you, I'll express my gratitude instead. Thank you for shaping me into the person I am today. I'm also grateful for the lessons you've taught me about love. I'll cherish these memories forever.

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dragon-kazansky · 11 months ago

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Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Once upon a time, a loving sister gave her brother a gift. That gift would be the most important thing he ever had, but it took a while to get there. Dream had no intention of falling in love, but when he fell, he fell hard.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Cuteness overload. A single use of Y/N.

Chapter Six - When the stars aligned

☆☆☆

Loneliness was not something Dream thought much about. He was very much focused on his role as the Dream Lord. There was not much else he took pleasure in.

Death was fond of humanity. All their quirks, wishes, and pleas. Each one was unique and different. They reminded her of her own family. Each with a different role to perform.

When Death looked at Dream, she saw the loneliness buried deep within but knew better than anyone, not to mention it. Yet, she couldn't ignore it. How could she pretend her brother was not suffering in silence.

Death swore to herself she would change this. She would help dissolve his loneliness. At first she attempted to simply spend tike with him, but she soon realised it wasn't enough.

As humanity began to grow, and learn, and love, she saw what he needed.

What could be more romantic than dreaming of love? Human or not, every living being was capable of such an emotion, even if they denied it.

To deny love was to deny yourself the pleasure of experiencing such feelings.

Dream pushed such feelings away.

Not any more.

Death was determined to find someone special. To find him his soulmate. He would know what happiness was in its purest form.

Death gave him a gift.

You.

A woman so warm and pure. You were not judgmental. You did not hold ill feelings without reason. You were not cruel, unkind, or dishonest. You were pure. You were true. You were perfect.

Death visited you with a wish.

"My brother is lonely. He does not know love. I want you to show him."

You had listened to her request.

☆☆☆

Dream had no idea why he had been summoned by his sister. When he came to her, he was not expecting to see her with anyone. His eyes lingered on you for a good few moments before he sat down in front of his sister.

"Brother."

"Sister."

The two looked at each for a moment. The silence was strange, heavy. Death smiled. You relaxed.

"What is it?" Dream asked.

"This is Y/N."

Dream turned his blue eyes back to you. You stated back at him. He was not quite what you were expecting. Long dark hair, sharp eyes, and sharper cheekbones. His skin was pale and smooth looking. His lips turned down in the corners as he looked at you.

"And?"

"I am giving her to you."

"I do not require a slave."

"Not a slave, brother."

"Then what?"

A few moments of silence pass between them. You remain quiet, watching.

"A companion?" He asks.

"A friend," Death smiles.

"I do not need friends."

"No? She is quite something. I think you'll grow fond of her. Quite fond of her."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing," Death says, looking at him.

"You do not fool me, sister."

"Nor am I trying to."

Dream's eyes glide back over to you. You have not said a word. You have been watching, listening. He looks you up and down, not so subtly. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He was so intimidating.

How were you supposed to show him love? This would not be easy.

"My answer is no."

Death sighs and looks at you. "I'm sorry about my brother. He is a moron. He will see sense."

Dream narrows his eyes slightly at you both.

"I understand." That's the only thing you say. You do not speak again. Dream does not want you. He knows Death knows he does not want you.

However, his sister was nothing if not persistent.

☆☆☆

"What are you doing here?" He asks, seeing you standing in his throne room.

"You sister let me come here."

"That was not her decision to make."

"I am sorry."

Dream looks at you. You avoid his eyes. Your hands are entwined in front of you. You look guilty.

"Jessamy will show you the way out."

"Jessamy?"

"My raven."

The raven in question came flying in and landed by your feet. She looked up at you with curiosity. Her master gave her a look, and she understood.

You looked back at Dream.

"Your sister told me you would try to get me to leave. She said to hold my ground. So I shall stay."

Dream narrowed his eyes at you.

"And who are you to defy what I want?"

"No one. I am no one of significance, but your sister is kind, and she asked me to do something. Do it, I shall try." You stand there determined.

"Do what?"

"Show you love."

Dream goes quiet. Your words go round in his head. Show him love? Nonsense. What would Death get out of that?

"Pity."

"Hm?"

"Does she pity me?" He asks softly.

"I do not think so. I think she worries."

"Worries? What for? I do not ask for such pointless things. My realm and I are doing just fine. She need not interfere."

"I do not see it as interfering," you say.

"Then what do you see it as?"

"An experience."

Dream falls quiet again. He regards you cautiously. A few moments of silence pass before he turns around and walks away.

☆☆☆

You stand on the bridge to the palace, looking out at The Dreaming. You have never seen anywhere so beautiful before. All these magical and wonderful things.

Dreams. Adventures. Stories.

It was wonderful. It's just simply wonderful.

"You may leave. You need only keeping following this road."

You do not turn around as he approaches from behind. You keep your eyes on the wonderful things around you. The bright sky, the dragon above you, the fairies flying over the bridge.

"I have no intention of leaving."

Dream looks at you. His face does not give away anything, but if you look hard enough in his eyes, you may catch a slight glimpse of amusement.

"No?"

"I was given to you by your sister as a gift. It would be rude to return a gift."

"People are not usually gifts," he says firmly.

"I'm special."

"How?"

"I shall live forever."

He looks at you curiously. Immortal? You truly were a gift then. One his sister intended for him to have forever. How interesting.

"I see."

You turn to look at him. "Can I explore?"

"The Dreaming?"

"Yes." You smile. "Can I see your realm?"

"Fine, but be careful. Dreams are not the only things that roam my kingdom. There are plenty of nightmares too."

You stare at him. "I am not afraid."

His lips twitch. "No?"

"Will you not guide me around your kingdom?" You ask.

"No."

You appear to deflate slightly. His rejection puts a damper on your mood. For some reason Dream does not like that look on you.

"Do as you wish."

With that, Dream walks away.

☆☆☆

You walk into the throne room and look up at the tall stained glass windows. Just below them sits a throne. You stop at the bottom of the steps to see the king sitting in his throne with a book in his lap.

"How was your walk?"

"What are you reading?" You avoid his question.

"A book."

"Yes, but what book?"

His eyes lift from the pages and focus on you. He closes the book carefully and holds it up in one hand. "Your book."

"My book?"

"Your life. I wanted to know where my sister found you and why she brought you to me."

"I told you."

He says nothing. Dream puts the book down and stands up. Slowly, he descends the stairs. "Do you know what I am? What my sister and I are?"

"You are Endless." You confirm. Death had told you all you needed to know. "There are others too. You are siblings."

Dream says nothing as he comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

"You are Dream. The lord of dreams and nightmares. When people go to sleep, they come here. You keep their dreams alive."

He remains silent.

"I think that's wonderful."

Dream looks like he wants to say something, but his attention is drawn to something behind you. You turn to fine Lucienne waiting to talk to her king.

You excuse yourself.

His eyes follow you.

☆☆☆

You have been in The Dreamkng for a little while now. Dream has since stopped suggesting you leave and find his sister. He just let's you be. He does not spend much time with you.

Dream works a lot, you have discovered. He puts a lot of his time into his realm and his duties. You do not see much of him. Just fleeting moments here and there.

One day, you find yourself in a gorgeous field. Grass so green it looks impossible. Trees so tall they do not look real. Life thrives in this meadow.

"How did you get here?"

You turn slowly and find the Dream Lord watching you. He looks so out of place here.

"I was walking and then... I was here."

"Impossible."

"Hm?"

"This is Fiddler's Green. Not just anyone can be here." Dream looks at you curiously. His mind is running with thoughts.

"I told you. I'm special."

Your smile stirs something deep inside him. As he looks at you, he feels like he is seeing you for the first time. True beauty in its purest form. He has never felt anything quite like it.

"What are you?" He asks.

"Human, or I was."

"Why did my sister grant you immortality?"

"So you would never be alone."

"Why?" He asks. He almost sounded like he was pleading.

"She wanted me to show you love."

He stares at you. He feels... lost.

"What is love?"

You smile again. Dream can not look away. Your smile is... beautiful. Why was something so small affecting him so much?

"Let me show you."

☆☆☆

Everything you did was unexpected to him. You had reached for his hand and did not let go. There was a smile constantly on your face as you walked with him through his palace.

He had never just walked through his realm before. He normally walked with a purpose, a job to do. You were walking with him simply because you wanted to.

"What are we doing?" He asks, not once taking his eyes off of you.

"Just walking."

"Where to?"

"No set destination. We're just going to walk together."

Your hand was smaller than his. So soft. So gentle. So warm. He glances down at your entwined hands, fascinated by the way they looked together.

"Sometimes you just need to walk and see."

He doesn't say anything as you both keep walking.

"What do you wish for?" You ask him.

"I have no wish."

"Everyone has a wish."

You look at him to see his expression as stoic as ever. Those eyes were hard to read, but somehow, you could understand him.

"Do you want to know my wish?"

"I feel you will tell me either way."

You giggle.

"I wish you were happy."

Now that caught him off guard. Of all things he thought you might say, that wasn't one of them.

"Who says I am not?" He asks you, his voice stern.

"Your sister. I also see that loneliness in your heart. Is it such a bad notion to let someone in?"

He stares at you.

Perhaps not.

"I don't need someone."

You smile.

Yes, you do.

☆☆☆

Dream sits with his back up against the tree. Your head rests in his lap. He's not sure how he came to this, but here he was. You were looking up at him with bright eyes.

"Do you not believe in love?"

He looks down at you. His lips slightly parted. You ask him the most strange questions sometimes.

"Of course I do. It is a fundamental part of human life."

"What of the Endless?"

"We do not need it."

"Is that what you think? I don't agree with you. I think you're scared of falling in love with someone."

"Scared?"

"Yes. It's foreign to you. You're not used to receiving it, nor giving it."

He states at you silently.

"I have so much love to give," you tell him. "Can I give it to you?"

Dream finds himself unable to think. He feels his heart racing in his chest. Why do you keep making him feel like this? What is this spell you have cast on him?

"Why?" He asks.

You smile. "Because I want to."

Dream states at you, breath caught in his throat, thoughts running wild in his head.

What if he let you?

What would happen?

☆☆☆

You smiled as you ran up behind him and hugged him from behind. He was startled by your sudden hug. Your arms wrapped around his torso and settled on his chest. He could feel you hide your face in his back.

Slowly, he reached up and placed his hands over yours.

"You sound happy."

You smile and look up, but remain behind him where he can not see you.

"I am."

"What happened? Why has such happiness befallen you?"

You chuckle.

"Jessamy told me something."

"Did she? What did she tell you?" He asks, curious about what his raven was sharing with you.

"She told me you were jealous when I left to visit Death. She said you were lonely without me."

Dream says nothing. He does nothing.

"Did you miss me?" You ask.

More silence.

"I'm back now. We can spend some time together. Shall we visit Fiddler's Green again?"

His hands remain enclosed around yours. A small smile appears on his lips.

"Yes please."

☆☆☆

Dream was in love.

You were dancing among the flowers singing a happy tune. You were so carefree and happy.

He was falling in love with you. Hard.

You took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air. The sun was shining down on you. This was your dream. It was beautiful, just like you. You looked... phenomenal.

You stop when you catch him looking at you.

You have been living in his realm for quite some time now. You had made this place your home. You belonged here, with him.

He loves you.

His heart yearns for you.

"What is it?" You ask, looking at him.

Dream walks over to you slowly. You stand there watching him. You're trying to read the expression on his face, but it is unlike any you have seen on him before. He reaches out and gently pulls you closer by your waist.

Your cheeks tint pink. You can feel your heart racing.

"Marry me."

Your eyes widen. You stare at him. Did he say what you think he said? You're not quite sure. He's staring at you intensely.

"Huh...?"

"Marry me," he says again, even more firmly.

You stare at him for a moment before you smile and wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes.

You take the chance to kiss him.

He loves you.

☆☆☆

You look up at your husband with a smile. He smiles back at you. His arm is snug around your waist as she holds you close to him. The light filters through the stained glass windows, casting you in a beautiful glow.

"You're beautiful."

You blush softly.

"You're beautiful," you tell him.

Dream paused. He had never been told that before. He began to smile again.

"I love you," he whispers.

You smile and caress his cheek. "I love you too, Morpheus. Now and always."

Dream leaned into your touch.

The Dream Lord did believe in love. He believed in your love. He would have to make sure to thank his sister when he saw her next.

For now, he was going to show you just how much he loved you.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @mischievousvillainy - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @emarich7 - @lollipopsandlandmines - @mouth-whore -

#symphony of dreams #morpheus x reader #the sandman #female reader #dragon writes

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remeberm3 · 13 hours ago

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I wouldn’t hesitate | k.m

⎯⎯“if I had the chance to fall in love with you again, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

warings: a slight glimpse of angst but not really

The Mikaelson compound was quiet, save for the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. Klaus Mikaelson sat alone at the piano, his fingers ghosting over the keys as he played a melody he couldn’t quite name. The notes were haunting, aching, as if they carried the weight of centuries.

She stood in the doorway, watching him. It was rare to catch Klaus like this—unguarded, his usual arrogance stripped away, leaving only the man behind the monster. She didn’t call out or announce her presence; instead, she stepped quietly into the room, her heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

He didn’t stop playing. “I was wondering when you’d show yourself,” he said, his voice low, almost distant.

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Klaus finally looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers. They were softer than usual, tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. Regret? Nostalgia? Whatever it was, it made her stomach twist.

“I always know,” he said simply, his lips curling into a faint, fleeting smile. “You have a way of sneaking into places you don’t belong.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think I belong here just fine.”

“Do you?” he asked, tilting his head. His tone wasn’t mocking, but curious, almost searching.

She frowned, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “What’s going on with you, Klaus? You’ve been… off lately.”

He chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual bite. “Off. That’s one way of putting it.”

She sat on the edge of the piano bench, careful to leave some space between them. “What’s the other way?”

Klaus’s fingers stilled on the keys, and for a moment, the room was silent except for the faint echo of the last note he played.

“Do you ever wonder, love,” he began quietly, “if it’s possible to start over?”

The question caught her off guard. She blinked, studying his face. He wasn’t looking at her now; his gaze was fixed on the piano, as if the answer were hidden somewhere between the keys.

“Start over?” she echoed.

Klaus nodded slowly. “If you could erase the mistakes, the pain, the… darkness. If you could go back to the beginning, knowing everything you know now, would you make the same choices?”

She frowned. “Klaus, you’re not exactly the regretful type. What’s this really about?”

He finally turned to her, and the rawness in his expression took her breath away. “What if you had the chance to fall in love with someone again?” he asked softly. “Would you? Or would the weight of what they’d done be too much to bear?”

Her chest tightened. “Are you asking me?”

“Perhaps,” he said, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “Or perhaps I’m merely indulging in the luxury of hypotheticals.”

“Klaus,” she said, her voice softer now, “what are you trying to say?”

He leaned back, his hands leaving the piano entirely. “You once told me I was impossible. That I was incapable of change.”

She stiffened. “I—”

“You were right,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. “I’ve spent centuries proving you right. I destroy everything I touch. Every relationship, every sliver of happiness—it all crumbles in my hands because of who I am. What I am.”

“That’s not true,” she said quickly.

“Isn’t it?” he countered, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, love—would you fall in love with me again, knowing what you know now? Knowing what I’ve done?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

This wasn’t the Klaus she knew. Not the arrogant, self-assured hybrid who could terrify an entire city with a single glance. This was a man unraveling, baring his soul in a way he never did. And she didn’t know what to say.

“I…” She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I don’t know.”

The words hung between them, heavy and fragile.

Klaus laughed softly, bitterly. “An honest answer. I can’t say I blame you.”

She looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “You’re being unfair.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Because you’re acting like this is all black and white. Like you’re either a saint or a monster, and there’s no in-between. But that’s not how it works, Klaus.”

He studied her, his expression unreadable. “Then how does it work, darling? Enlighten me.”

She sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “You’re complicated. You’ve done terrible things, yes, but you’ve also done good things. You’ve protected the people you love. You’ve fought for them, for this family, even when it would’ve been easier to walk away. That has to count for something.”

Klaus tilted his head, his eyes searching hers. “Does it?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice steady. “It does.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. “Then tell me, love. If I could start over—if I could undo the mistakes, prove to you that I could be better—would you let yourself love me again?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to believe that people could change, that Klaus could change. But she knew better than to give him an easy answer.

“Klaus,” she said carefully, “I don’t think you need to start over. I think you need to stop looking back.”

He frowned.

“You can’t undo the past,” she continued. “But you can choose what you do next. And if you really want to be better, then be better. Prove it—not to me, not to anyone else. To yourself.”

Klaus stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Wise words,” he said softly. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she teased, though her voice was gentle.

Klaus chuckled, shaking his head. “You have a talent for infuriating me, love. And yet…”

“And yet?” she prompted, raising a brow.

He stood, stepping closer until he was towering over her. For a moment, she thought he might say something else—something vulnerable. But instead, he smirked, his usual arrogance slipping back into place like a mask.

“And yet, I find myself wondering what I’d do without you,” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper.

She rolled her eyes, standing to face him. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out. At least not tonight.”

Klaus chuckled, his smirk softening. “Lucky indeed.”

As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “if I had the chance to fall in love with you again, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. But when she turned to look at him, he was already sitting back at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys, playing that same haunting melody.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she slipped out of the room, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t quite name.

he's so cuteeee

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson x reader #tvd fanfiction #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst

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scaryspears · 1 year ago

Text

Earth 42 Miles x Telekinetic Autistic (Black) Reader

Notes: The Reader was inspired by Carrie. Why? I wanted to do a black reader with super powers, but I didn't want to write her like other black readers have been written with 42 Miles. I just can't relate with how they speak or the situations. This isn't to say she will be a sweet, precious thing, just odd.

You had a bunch of issues. First, you were a target for harassment, verbal most of the time. Vandalism was rare, but it did often happen. Your locker would be painted with unkind words, and a pencil would be missing from your pencil case and you could never point out who took it but you always had a suspicion. It wasn't too bad, depending on who you compared yourself to, but it still hurt. It was still bothersome.

You had to wonder what made you such a great and easy target in the first place. Your habit of wearing the same clothes everyday, sleeping in class, and taking things too literal. Even worse, you were too gullible. A genius would've just said these were your autistic traits, but too bad you didn't know that at the time. The many times you attempted to be different didn't work out, always setting a standard. So you gave up, counting the days until graduation. Hoping that it would come sooner than expected.

There was only one worthwhile thing in school and that was art class. Not too many people present. You weren't amazing with drawing or art in general, fairly decent, but it was the only class with any peace in it. The least judgemental lesson. In every art class you sat behind Miles Morales, and you would find yourself staring at his back. At his pretty braids.

You always liked boys with long hair, and Miles was no different. This day was no different, quiet as always and slow. It would be most preferable if you didn't make your crush obvious.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you gonna look away?" You heard him speak. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder.

You blinked hard, "Hmm?"

"You're staring. Stop." he didn't sound angry from what you could hear, but his tone wasn't pleasant either.

You immediately did as he asked. You tried to focus on your sketches, drawing pictures of magical girls from your favourite childhood cartoons, then drawings of more serious things. The Prowler had been on the news again, reporters painting him in good and bad light. He saved two teenagers from a burning building, others say he caused the fire. But teenagers always did stupid things, and you would know from being one. Just thinking about it made the windows crack a little.

"Look at the windows!" one of the boys spoke, pointing.

Everyone else, except Miles, either got up to have a closer look or sat in wonderment from their seat. You feigned surprise as best as you could, you've long since learned that you weren't good at faking expressions. The teacher ordered everyone to start packing up, safety being the number one priority. There was no reason for the windows to break by themselves, and you contemplated if you should stop.

As you stared at the window you slowly started packing your equipment, watching the cracks reach the corners and edge until every single one of them smashed entirely. It was like lifting an eyebrow, some could do it naturally and others couldn't.

"Alright, everyone out!" the teacher called.

Your classmates were already rushing out of the room, but only Miles remained sitting while you stood looking at the broken glass on the ground.

"[LN], Morales! Time to go!" the teacher called.

You left the room, but halfway through the door you heard Miles say behind you, "Serena had a party last night."

You started fiddling with your top, dreading what he would say. "Okay."

"What were you doing that night?" he asked coolly.

That party. That damned party.

"I got invited, and then I left." that was the truth.

"So you weren't there, when Jordan..." he grabbed your arm, "Threw his drink at you."

That's not all that happened. They threw food at you, and your clothes became stained. You dressed special for that day, hopeful, unfortunately expectant.

"I..." you tried to pull your arm away.

"How did that fire happen?" he turned you to face him. You averted your eyes. Miles' eyes were beautiful but the way they bore into your soul was most unkind.

You had heard that artists were weird. They either did weird things or had something weird about them. Maybe this was another occasion. You tried to forget about these powers. Even though you have embraced that there was something wrong strange about you.... you couldn't help the need to be decently normal deep down. Now these powers just had to bite at your behind.

"What fire?"

"Don't play stupid, you've seen the news. Serena and Jordan are now in the hospital, the others might still be in a coma."

"How is that my problem?" you asked, your cruel side demanding attention.

Miles was mildly impressed with your response, the grip on your arm loosening. "It isn't," he admitted, "I just know the fire wasn't natural."

"I don't know what happened to them."

He let go of your arm, "Fine."

You walked away.

If you ever wanted to grab the attention of Miles Morales, you didn't want to grab it like this. You weren't sure if your classmate suspecting you of arson should be something to worry about.

"I can't blame her if she did do it, I mean I don't think I should go around killing my classmates, but can you believe they decided to live stream it?" Miles removed the screwdriver from his claw.

Miles' uncle, Aaron, sighed, "Kids as old as you run wild, boys most of all. Girls are different, they go out of their way to plan stuff. I don't know what to tell you."

"I worry about her, tio. She really didn't do anything to... warrant that behaviour."

This, Aaron knew what to say to. "Sometimes people don't need a reason to do something, they'll just do it. That hazing thing was a classic example of that." he tossed a drill to Miles, "Was there a chance she got any clue what they were planning?"

Miles shook his head aggressively, "I don't think she understands basic human interactions even if she tried, I've seen how she is. All they did was smile in her face when they invited her. Smiles are a good thing, and it takes her a while to pick up on the fact that she's getting made fun of."

"Look out for her, then. If she really has something to do with that fire like you suspect, then this could turn bad. Women can be crazy, Miles."

"Okay. I will, tio."

Some days passed since the minor interrogation with Miles, and though he seemed to pretend you no longer existed, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried to be on your best behaviour, and you've had better control of your powers ever since he brought up the incident. You didn't want to be suspected of a single crime.

Upon this suspect-tion came sleepless night, which led to sleeping in class.

"[Name]." sounded faint, like the screams that only felt regret from fear and not guilt.

"[Name]." it was louder this time. A warning for your attention. You search through the heat for where it was coming from.

"[Name.]" This time there was no mistaking it, this voice was not from the dream.

Wherever you were, there was no escaping that fire. Although you had gotten so used to the dreams, you couldn't help your eyes tearing up. You made sure to turn your face away from whoever had shook your shoulder.

You weren't sad or scared, but you couldn't help it. Something about being unable to regulate your emotions.

"[Name.]" the person hadn't left, and now that you were no longer as sleepy you recognised whose voice it was.

"Hey, Miles."

"Hey." he greeted.

He hadn't moved back to his seat, so you looked up to his face, waiting for him to potentially say more, this time not averting your eyes.

He did have more to say, "You're a Tokyo Mew Mew fan." he looked down at your sketchbook, which was still open.

You quickly covered it with your arms, glaring at him. Daring him to say something about your long lasting interest.

"I'm going comic con this Saturday. Do you wanna come?"

His face, and his eyes, were kind. But you couldn't help suspiciously being on edge.

"I don't know." left your lips quicker than it usually did.

He didn't appear disappointed, judging by the lack of expression on his face. He glanced to the side, "Class finished five minutes ago, by the way."

So that's why it was so quiet.

"Can I walk you to lunch?"

Yes. No. What was the correct answer?

"I don't know." you couldn't come up with a better response.

For whatever reason he smiled, or smirked(?). For better or for worse.

"Come on, I'll make sure you get there safely."

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Feeling cute, might do a part 2.

#uncle aaron #aaron davis #42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #black reader #autistic reader #miles morales x black reader #42 miles morales x black reader #telekinesis

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