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hiiraya · 3 years

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you are my sunshine (rewrite)

masterlist

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

words: ~1,793

warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, character death

requested:

a/n: i just realised i hadn't posted since my birthday! I figured i should get something out to you guys before the month ends so here's a rewrite from my old account bc uni is currently turning my brain into mush. happy reading!! ♡

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

It was obvious to everyone around you that you were more of a lover than a fighter.

It was easy – a little too easy sometimes – for you to get lost in your Imagination, dreaming away to your hearts content if nothing in the real world could hold your attention for more than a few minutes.

The fact that you were the type of person who would do anything for anyone when they asked, or just simply because you could didn’t help your case at all.

For the most part you did it to be nice and helpful to the team, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say that it was also so a certain witch who held your heart would come up to you whenever she needed help with something.

But you weren’t going to admit that just yet.

They always wondered how you did it.

You know that they would never ask it to your face, but you could see how they questioned how easily you could get side-tracked by your imagination, or how you could stay so optimistic and be dreaming of better days when it seemed like the whole world was against you.

After going through so much hurt and suffering, they would’ve thought that you’d turn hard and emotionless, giving up on the world that had given you every reason to stop believing in those who lived in it.

But against all odds, you kept the childlike joy and passion they were sure you would’ve lost years ago. They knew they had.

You were the one Peter would go to when he needed cheering up because he was told that he wasn’t allowed on a mission with the team (not just yet, Tony would kill you if gave the kid false hope, but you always told him that the time will come).

You were the one Bucky would seek out whenever life became a little too much to handle, because you knew just what to say without him having to say a word. “You are more than the sum of your mistakes, Buck.”

You were the one Natasha went to when she wanted someone to talk to just because she knew that she could tell you anything and you would listen, no questions asked.

You were the one they went to simply because they wanted to witness life through your eyes and see that there was still hope and goodness left in this world.

I dreamed I held you in my arms

You pined after her.

Oh boy, did you pine for her.

You dreamed of worlds where she was yours and the both of you were happy; worlds where no one thought of her as a monster, where everyone she’s ever loved was safe; where you could show her just how ethereal and radiant, she was in your eyes.

You dreamed of a world where you made Wanda feel so happy and loved, that she forgets about all the hurt and pain this earth had put her through.

But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

As all dreams do, they end, and unfortunately for you, as much as you loved to dream, nothing every came of them.

Those dreams would never become reality. And maybe it was because you were scared of being rejected, of being ridiculed- whatever the reason was that you gave to convince yourself that she could never know.

You don’t know.

You would always be just a friend to her.

So, of course, when you had finally worked up enough courage to do something about your feelings for Wanda after the whole mess that was Ultron, Vision had beaten you to it.

And now it was too late.

Because he was the one who could be there for her in the ways you wanted to. The one who could hold her and kiss her and treat her like you wanted to. The one she would come home to at the end of the day.

But luckily for you (was it luck or was it just a cruel twist of fate?) there was no one else but you that could calm her down.

Whenever the world got a little too loud, you would let her into your mind, conjuring up the few peaceful moments from your life that you held close to you, just for her to see, letting her ground herself back to reality while you sang to her softly.

It was in those moments that you knew, that yes, she had him, you were an irreplaceable part of her life too.

So, I bowed my head and I cried.

Even though everyone had dubbed you as the happy-go-lucky Avenger, you still had those moments where you broke down in the solitude of your room.

You tried hard to convince yourself that you would be fine seeing her with him, but deep down you knew that it broke you down little by little each time you saw Wanda being happy with someone that wasn’t you.

It was a selfish thought to have, and you knew it, so you tried to keep it locked away in the back of your mind.

Without realizing, you had built walls around your mind whenever she was around, letting her in just enough to calm her down but never enough to let her know what you were truly feeling.

You are my sunshine

You found it funny when you found out that people thought of you as the personal sunshine of the Avengers.

If only they knew about your own personal sunshine.

Wanda helped shape you into the person you were, acting as your own personal ray of sunshine that kept you going, shining just as bright as her to keep her happy and shining.

And if she shone a little brighter whenever you would call her your sunshine, then you would continue to call her that for as long as you could.

My only sunshine

“(Y/N), I didn’t know that you could play the piano.” She said with surprise.

The two of you were hanging out in your room when she noticed the piano tucked away in the corner of the room.

You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone before, Tony got it for you when you had mentioned to him that you missed playing when you first joined the team, and if you were being honest, you hadn’t touched it since then.

“That’s because I don’t play it much anymore.” You shrugged as you looked over at the instrument, getting off of your bed and crossing the room to sit on the worn-out seat.

“Can you play for me?”

“Anything for you, sunshine.”

Play the opening chords to your favorite lullaby, you looked at her with such longing and want before forcing your gaze away so she couldn’t see your eyes as you started to sing.

You make me happy, when skies are grey

You look up at her from you place on her lap, where your head is resting against her legs as she ran her fingers through your hair, offering you the best smile she could muster.

You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

She looks so beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it.

With the sun shining high and bright behind her, chestnut locks framing her face, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone told you that you were looking right at an angel.

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Maybe it was because you had fully convinced yourself that she would never feel the same way for you that you had missed on the forlorn gazes she sent your way.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something. Especially when she realized that you had started to block her from going further into your head whenever you let her in your mind as easily as she could before Vision and her had announced that they were together.

She couldn’t help but think back to all the times you would retreat back into your room after she walks into the room with the android; how your light would start to dull when she would bring him up in your conversations; how you seemed to smile less whenever he was around.

She didn’t know what was worse, to lose him or to lose you.

She wouldn’t be able to have a choice in the matter anyway.

You’d never tell her how you felt about her - you hated the feeling of separating people. Simply put, you just didn’t have the heart to say something and ruin the friendship between you and Wanda, or the relationship she had with Vision.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to calm you down, sunshine.” You murmur softly, (e/c) meeting shining emerald ones.

“Don’t say that (Y/N/N). It’s okay,” She says, shaking her head. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

You ignore her words for the first time as your breath hitches in your throat, wincing as she presses her hand harder against the wound on your stomach.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Just a simple recon mission to go into an abandoned Hydra base and gather intel that turned out to be a trap to lure your team in.

You were blindsided. All of you were.

“I’m sorry I can’t make this better. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to cheer you and the rest of the team up when you get back home. Tell them I’m sorry that I couldn’t say goodbye.” You manage to get out between breaths.

You had to get your apologies out now before it was too late.

Before there was no breath left in you to apologize to the one woman you swore to yourself you would never hurt.

The one woman you would love no matter what.

“We’re going to get you out of here, (Y/N). Just hold on for me.” She begs desperately, tears starting to stream down her cheeks as she lifted her head to shout for help.

You reach your hand up to cup her cheek, pulling her back down to look at you before you start humming the familiar tune you would sing to her after a rough night of nightmares.

Placing her hand over yours, she leaned into your touch, refusing to accept the fact that you were slipping away right in front of her eyes.

An anguished sob left her mouth while her tears fell harder as she watched you close your eyes for the last time, gasping for air as she manages to choke out the last line.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

—

taglist:

@ladyeliot

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarelet witch x reader #wanda x reader #avengers x readers #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #myfics.txt

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Fire & Desire (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

Summary: After the funeral, Naomi heads to Ethan’s apartment for comfort. Let’s pretend that 30 diamond scene in chapter 12 didn’t happen, okay? I made up 95% of this.

A/N: Guys, I have an embarrassing amount of rewrites/drafts of this on my computer. Pls enjoy.

~v~

In order to survive the past few days, Naomi has made it her mission to get through things one step at a time. Her first goal was to survive the toxin. She did. Then it was to just get well and be discharged from the hospital. The last step was to make it through Danny and Bobby’s joint memorial service in one piece. Not only did she do that, but she delivered a eulogy flawlessly, while her friends and colleagues all fell apart at the seams and waited for her to do the same.

But now that it’s all over, now that there’s no goal to work towards especially since Naveen won’t let her back in the hospital without clearance from a therapist, Naomi has never felt more lost or out of sorts in her life.

After the memorial, Naomi went home with her roommates and she regrets it. Jackie and Elijah can barely look at her without giving her pity glances, Sienna has been trying to feed her nonstop, and Aurora has convinced them all that she’s spiraling due to her meltdown at Ethan earlier that day. So she hid in her bedroom, pretending to be asleep simply because she was tired of them.

But sleep evades her. Outside of a quick 15 minute power nap, Naomi hasn’t been able to sleep, thoughts of being back in that hospital room never too far from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the fear took over, gripping her and refusing to let go.

So that’s how she ended up here, in Ethan’s apartment, on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch. Being at home wasn’t an option and there’s no one else she’d rather be with, so as soon as her roommates went to bed, Naomi slipped out and made her way across town to Ethan’s place. Ethan was shocked when he found her outside of his apartment at midnight, especially with the way their last conversation ended. He wanted to scold her for taking an Uber so late at night by herself, but of course he didn’t turn her away.

“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, opening and closing his refrigerator a few times, as if that will make food magically appear. “I didn’t cook today, but I can probably throw something together.”

Naomi doesn’t know if her appetite still hasn’t returned or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, as she can still taste the vomit in her mouth at the mere mention of food. “No, I’m fine for now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Ethan wants to ask questions because she’s obviously come here for a reason, but he doesn’t want to push her. “It’s late and you must be exhausted though.” He walks back to his living room and holds out a hand, which Naomi grabs. He ushers her to his bedroom. “You can sleep in here.”

His room still looks like she remembers. The king sized bed takes up most of the space, and he still has the most amazing view in all of Boston. The night is still young and bustling, the buildings all lit up.

“You’re sleeping in here too, right?” Naomi asks.

“I was going to take the guest room, or the couch.”

Naomi shakes her head. “Nonsense, you’re sleeping with me.”

Even though there’s no light other than moonlight spilling into the room, Naomi can still see his cheeks tinge pink. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I think after our night together in the hospital, assuming will be safe. It’s cute, but we’re grown and you won’t offend my virtue.”

“Noted.” Naomi watches him as he moves around the room, a sort of anxious energy radiating off of him. He rummages through a drawer until he finds something suitable for her to put on. “Here you go.”

It’s a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a charity 5k because of course Ethan is the type to participate in something like that. Naomi rids herself of the jeans and sweater she haphazardly threw on in her rush to leave her apartment and slips on the t-shirt, forgoing the pants. Their obvious size differences make the shirt look comically large on her like a nightgown.

“Fair warning, I don’t have a scrunchie or anything to wrap my hair in, so I apologize if you wake up to like...a lion’s mane of hair in your face.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

Naomi pulls back the covers and slides into the bed, moaning upon contact. Oh, to be rich and have fancy high thread-count sheets and a memory foam mattress. “God, I never want to leave this bed.”

“Keep making noises like that, and I won’t let you.” He doesn’t climb bed behind her, opting to sit on the edge. “You want to talk?”

“About what?”

“The fact that you’re here right now, instead of your own apartment.”

“Is it not enough to say I wanted to see you?”

Ethan scoffs. Naomi is charming, but she can’t bullshit him. “Sure.”

She doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s all she’s done for the past 48 hours, and she’s tired of it. It’s selfish.

She manages to turn the tables on Ethan. “You look tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Ethan assures her. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as an insomniac.”

“We’re doctors, so it goes without saying that we’re all insomniacs.” Ethan sighs. “But to be honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep all week.”

“I get it. With the toxin, and Bobby and Danny, and Raf–”

“It’s not them, Naomi, it’s you,” Ethan argues. “I spend all 24 hours of the day with you on my brain, worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” Ethan continues. “I tried to stay optimistic for you, but all I could think about was the fact that it could’ve been my last night with you. That night, after you finally fell asleep, I stayed up, analyzing your vitals. The only time I wasn’t looking at you is when I was looking at your chart. And every night since, I lay awake, forcing myself to not contact you.”

Naomi frowns. She’s spent so much time wrapped up in her own head, she didn’t take much time to think about how Ethan was affected as well. She’s sure she’d be a wreck if the situation was reversed, if he was the one fighting an unknown deadly agent.

She crawls out the sheets and joins Ethan at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think–”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve been going through enough, I shouldn’t even be burdening you.”

“It’s fine. We shared deathbed confessions, I think I can handle whatever else you throw my way.”

Ethan turns to lock eyes with Naomi, her expression open and earnest. “I meant everything I said in there. I regret putting us on hold, and I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m done pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m done trying to hold you at arm’s length. I want you, Naomi.”

“Are you feeling like this because I almost died?”

“No. I mean, sure it was a major wake-up call for me, but I’ve felt this way for a long time. The last time you were here, the night of the softball game, I kissed you, and instead of making my intentions known then and there, I put it off, and that almost cost me everything. I don’t have all the answers, because I’m your boss, and people at hospitals like to gossip, but whatever this is, I want to explore it with you.”

Naomi doesn’t say anything, her brain and heart trying to process all of this information. Ethan watches her, his heart pounding wildly. Did he seriously miscalculate her feelings for him? Did he pick the most inopportune moment to drop this on her?

“It took you long enough,” Naomi says.

He laughs, his relief evident and he grabs her hand. “Well I appreciate you having the patience of a saint, Rookie.”

“It’s because I am a saint.”

He runs his thumb along the inside of her wrist, tracing a pattern into the warm skin. The steady thump of her pulse is enough to soothe the anxiety that lingers. She’s here. She’s with him. She’s alive.

His other hand grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye. Ethan’s gaze sweeps across her face, his 11 years as a doctor having given him a keen eye for detail. There’s her long, dark eyelashes, her full lips, her pronounced cheekbones, her button nose that crinkles whenever she’s smiling and laughing, a sight he hopes to see again soon. He doesn’t know what emotion is more overwhelming: the relief that she’s alive, or the fear that she was that close to dying.

Ethan is all too aware of the fact that he could’ve lost her. That he and Naomi would never share a quiet moment like this ever again. That she’d never know the full extent of his feelings for her, because he’d been too much of a coward to be honest a long time ago. The thought of the hypothetical makes his insides twist uncomfortably. He can’t dwell on it, not while she’s here, looking to him for comfort.

Without thinking further, his lips slowly collide with hers, pulling the younger woman into a kiss. She wastes no time, kissing him back with an unrivaled fervor that borders on desperation, but Ethan isn’t one to complain. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth until he finds her own.

The kiss sparks something inside of Naomi, a buzz building in the pit of her stomach, so potent and all consuming, it nearly startled her. For the first time in what feels like forever, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just her and Ethan, and this magical little flame between them. So she clings to it, to him, to them, and swings one of her legs over, straddling him. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, one hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls herself closer. He tastes smoky like the scotch they drank earlier, and she swears the kiss alone is enough to leave her intoxicated.

Desperate for any sort of friction, Naomi rolls her hips into his. She can feel him hardening beneath her, his erection straining through the thin layers of fabric preventing them from being completely bare with each other. Unable to help himself, Ethan breaks the kiss only to let out a low, “Fuck.”

He needs to stop this. Logically, Ethan knows that putting a kibosh in this is the right thing to do. Naomi came to him because she needs a support system, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of her trust and manipulate her grief.

“Naomi, stop,” Ethan gently commands, hands gripping her hips in order to keep her still.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Ethan says. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed.”

“But you should.”

“No. I want this, I want you.”

Her lips are on his jaw, kissing and biting, and it’s becoming harder for him to stay focused. “You’ve had a very long day, it’s been emotionally draining, and I’m sure you’re exhausted–”

“Oh my God, stop!” Naomi exclaims. “I don’t need another person explaining to me what I’m going through or what I’m feeling. Trust me, no one is more aware of my shitty life than I am.” She leans forward resting her forehead against his. “I get it, I’m the one who barely survived an assassination attempt, and I’m going to walk around with that for the rest of my life. For tonight, can I just be a normal girl who wants to fuck her boyfriend, or whatever the hell you are to me? Please?”

Despite the circumstances, his cock twitches almost painfully as soon as the word “boyfriend” leaves her mouth. He’s a grown ass man, he hasn’t used the term since high school, and here he is, ready to dissolve into a puddle of goo. What the hell has Naomi Valentine done to him and who is this mess of a man that she’s replaced him with?

Whatever she’s trying to do won’t work. Pushing aside her grief and trying to avoid the problem with sex isn’t a coping mechanism he’d ever recommend (not that he has any brilliant ones of his own, but still). It’s not going to fix anything in the long run.

Naomi’s lips brush against his before giving him another teasing kiss before pulling away. “Please,” she whines. “I want you, Ethan.” Ethan has always considered himself to be a staunch man who isn’t easily swayed. Until he met Naomi. How can he be when she’s looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers, weakening his otherwise tough resolve? It may not help her tomorrow, but who is he to deny her reprieve at least right now? Saying no to her has never been a strength Ethan claimed to possess.

Not giving any sort of warning, Ethan grips the oversized shirt she’s wearing and forcefully pulls it up, barely giving her enough time to lift her arms and help with the process. Once the piece of clothing is discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, Ethan flips their positions, Naomi’s back landing on his mattress with a soft thud.

He sucks in a sharp breath. Ethan considers himself to be a well traveled, well cultured man. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower multiple times, visited the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, driven a Ferrari through the streets of Rome, drank wine while overlooking a Napa vineyard, and more. But none of those even comes close to the sight of Naomi naked in his bed, writhing on top of his sheets, her curly hair splayed out like a crown atop her head. She’s absolutely beautiful, and he’s a goner. He’s always known it, but this moment right here, right now actually seals the deal.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” Naomi asks, jolting Ethan out of his thoughts. He feels her dainty foot running along the soft cotton of his pajama pants before traveling higher, lightly brushing his side.

He catches her foot, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle, and yanks her forward. “I don’t need to take a picture because the real thing is just fine.” Maintaining eye contact, Ethan presses a line of kisses from her ankle to the inside of her knee, smirking as he feels the goosebumps pop up along the trail he’s set. “God, it really doesn’t take much to get you going, huh?”

“Not when it involves you, no,” Naomi replies.

Ethan drops her leg unceremoniously. His hands wander until they’re hooked into the waistband of her lacy underwear, and he pulls them down quickly, deciding not to make a production of it. A hum of approval leaves his throat when he finds her already soaked for him. He runs a finger along her spreading the wetness around before pressing the single digit into her. “I like that answer.”

Her toes curl at the contact and Naomi grips the sheets beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”

“Christ, you’re tight.”

“It’s been a while,” Naomi admits, panting heavily. “The guy I was into ran off to another continent, and put us on ice.”

Ethan can tell by her tone that she’s merely teasing, but his heart still hammers wildly nonetheless. He wasted so much time, and for what? He slides another finger into her, enjoying the moan she gives him in return. “It appears I have some atoning to do, hmm?”

Naomi nods. “A lot of atoning.”

“Very well.”

She feels him remove his fingers, and nothing makes her head spin more. Lifting herself up by her elbows, Naomi glares down at Ethan. “What are you doing? You can’t just stop!”

“Relax.” Ethan forces Naomi back to her originally flat position. “I think you know better than anyone that I’m going to take good care of you.” She chooses not to respond, because they both know the answer to that is a resounding yes.

He spreads her thighs and Naomi shivers at the gleam in his eyes, positively engraved by the way he looks at her: all lust and hunger. Desperate for Ethan to actually do something, she tilts her hips up, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Ethan chuckles and places an open mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh. She swears she can feel herself buzzing with anticipation, her insides on fire, and all she wants him to do is just touch her.

When he finally does, she’s shocked she doesn’t combust then and there. Her head tips back and a low groan tumbles from her lips, and her thighs clamp shut so tightly around Ethan’s head, she’d be apologetic if she wasn’t so far gone. Ethan doesn’t skip a beat though, his fingers digging into her thighs and spreading them apart, and then he’s back to his original mission.

Ethan’s tongue glides through her folds with ease, stroking her up and down a few times before closing his mouth around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips fly off the bed and she grinds into him with a reckless abandon she hasn’t felt in a really long time, but Ethan splays a strong hand across her stomach to hold her down, trapping her between him and his bed.

Trying to gain a modicum of power back, Naomi grips a handful of his hair and tugs at it roughly. It’s an action that makes Ethan growl, his mouth vibrating against her.

Her little moans and cries do nothing to help the raging ego Naomi claims he has, instead they only fuel him further. He ups the ante, his two fingers sliding back into her, curling in a come hither motion and pressing repeatedly against the spot that makes her see stars.

He can tell by the vice grip she has on his fingers and the way she’s undulating against him that she’s close. And while he’s content to draw this out for as long as humanly possible, until he’s wrung every little ounce of pleasure from her that he can, Ethan is well aware that the woman occupying his bed doesn’t have that type of patience.

Giving her a bit of reprieve, he takes his mouth off of her, only moving it slightly so he can kiss the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“God, Ethan.”

“Say my name again, Rookie,” Ethan commands. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Naomi obeys without as much as a second thought. It doesn’t take much to get her to say his name again, the word coming out as a shout in between a broken cry. Ethan smirks, satisfied with his work, and his tongue finds her clit, stroking the tiny bundle a few more times until her orgasm zips through her with the intensity of a lightning strike. Her entire body tenses up as Ethan continues to lap at her, as she rides out the aftershocks.

When she’s finally in control of her senses again, the first thing Naomi notices is how absolutely wrecked Ethan looks, eyes red and glossy, mouth and beard soaked, and she wants to do nothing more than kiss him. So she does, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back on top of her. She can taste herself on his mouth and it makes her moan.

Impatient, Naomi reaches between their bodies and tugs at the waistband of his pants. Ethan receives the message loud and clear, and he breaks the kiss to strip as quickly as he can. She watches as Ethan flings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pajama bottoms. He isn’t the only one with above average observation skills, and she notices the slight tremble in his hands, the anticipation as intense for him as it is for her. She’d be lying if she said reducing this great and powerful man to nothing more than a shaky mess isn’t a turn on. Once his boxers are gone, Naomi looks him up and down, every part of him still as she remembered.

Her eyes zero in on his erection, painfully hard. She wraps her hand around him, stroking firmly. “My my, doctor, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.”

The other four letter L-word rattles around in his brain, begging to be set free, and with more strength than he thought he had, Ethan manages to keep quiet. He’d never forgive himself for such selfishness if he blurted out he loves her in the middle of sex. Naomi has enough to deal with already without that added layer of complexity.

Ethan’s thoughts are interrupted, a sharp hiss passing through his teeth as he feels her tongue languidly glide across the swollen head of his erection before taking him fully in her mouth.

He doesn’t know what will kill him first: how good it feels, or the fact that she’s staring up at him with those fucking Disney princess eyes again, feigning innocence like she’s unaware of exactly what she does to him.

He allows her to get in one more stroke of her tongue before he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her away. One of her eyebrows raises in question. “What’s wrong? I was just getting started.”

He drags them back into bed before answering, “I need to be inside you. You can do whatever you want to me afterwards.”

She grins at the promise of a next time. Whatever she wants? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ramsey.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Ethan assures her.

Naomi feels him, poised at her entrance and she arches backwards, too overly sensitive. Ethan’s hands are back on her hips, holding her in place, and inch by inch, he fills her. They both groan at the sensation, familiar territory but something new entirely. Her hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as she’s stretched to maximum capacity, uncaring if she leaves marks.

Ethan is unsure of how long they’ve been like this, but he’s nearly shaking with the restraint it’s taking him to not thrust into her. He drops his head, kissing a line across her collarbone. “Fuck, baby, I need you to let me know when I can move.”

The pet name wasn’t intentional, spilling from Ethan’s lips before he could stop it, but Naomi whimpers regardless. She hooks her legs behind his back, keeping him just as trapped as she is. “Please.”

He moves slowly, partially to give her a chance to adjust to his size, the other reason because he doesn’t want it to be over as quickly as it started. This, being inside of her again, is overwhelming and Ethan can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he could go without.

“You’re incredible,” Ethan compliments.

“Okay, say it again when I’m not in your bed. Like during a team meeting where you’re shooting down my ideas.”

“You are,” Ethan insists.

He thrusts into her again, and Naomi cries out, nails raking at his back. Surely she’s broken skin at this point, but Ethan doesn’t care. He’s never been one for pain in bed, but with Naomi, he’s willing to make an allowance, especially since it leaves way for pleasure. They move in tandem, hips moving against each other, both trying to coax out the release that’s been building. Unable to do much of anything else, Ethan leans forward, kissing Naomi again. She meets him halfway, just as eager as he is.

Eventually she has to break the kiss, and she gasps in a large breath of air, her lungs constricting tightly in her rib cage. In her distracted moment, Ethan manages to free himself of her hands marking him relentlessly, and he captures both of her wrists in one fell swoop. He holds them above her head in one hand, pressing her as deep into the mattress as possible. The new angle catches her by surprise and she can’t do anything but gasp into the air above her.

“Please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for at this point, but it’s the only word her brain can comprehend so she chants it repeatedly like a prayer until she’s shattering around him, mouth open, head tipped back, skin flush and warm. She’s perfect like this, Ethan surmises.

It doesn’t take him more than a few more thrusts before Ethan’s own release takes control and he falls forward, leaning some of his weight onto Naomi. He doesn’t trust himself to not say or do something completely stupid, so he buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

It could’ve been mere minutes that they spent in that position, or it could’ve been hours for all Naomi knows, but when Ethan finally pulls out, he’s kissing her all over: her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

He wraps her in a solid embrace, arms circling around her and holding her close, their erratic heart rates trying to slow down. Ethan feels at peace doing just this, holding her close to him, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

Do you feel any better?”

That isn’t a question Naomi expects to hear right after sex, and it causes her to pause. After a few more moments of silence, she answers, “I mean, the endorphin release was great if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Naomi knew going into it that the sex wasn’t going to soothe all of her hurts and be the magical solution to her problems, so she doesn’t need some major “I-told-you-so” moment from him. But for the first time in almost a week, she feels like herself again. Within the confines of these four walls, Ethan didn’t treat her like some fragile little doll, and her mind was able to take a break from overthinking.

“It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a short time,” Naomi replies. “It was nice to not be a captive to my trauma.”

Ethan’s fingers gently graze her scalp, massaging. “Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?”

“No.”

She’s as stubborn as ever. “Fair enough. But if we were to talk about it, I would say that you went through something horrible and traumatic, and you have to allow yourself to actually feel and process whatever emotions you have. I’d also say that you are incredibly strong, but your strength doesn’t mean that you have to bottle everything inside in order to make everyone around you feel better, especially when you’re with me. Strong people have the right to be vulnerable too.” Ethan sighs. “But since we aren’t talking about it, I’m not going to say any of those things.”

Naomi curls in closer to Ethan, comforted by his body warmth. “I think I would really enjoy hearing those things if this was a conversation we were having.”

“Good. Now whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s what good boyfriends do. Or whatever the hell I am to you. That’s what you said, right?”

“Okay, I have an explanation for getting agitated about the technical definition of our relationship.”

“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it.”

“I was impatient and horny.”

Ethan laughs, the warm and rich sound curling around her insides. It does more to help than she’ll ever be able to convey to him. “You’re also very honest.”

“To a fault at times, yes.”

A silence settled between them again, and Naomi feels her eyelids getting heavier. Maybe she’ll be able to finally get some real sleep, not the fitful unconsciousness she’s been subjected to for the past few days.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Naomi says.

He’s going to suggest she talk to a therapist. He’s going to say it multiple times, until he’s blue in the face and she’s tired of listening. But he'll leave her alone for tonight.

“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner we wake up, and I can cook breakfast for you.”

“Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Ramsey.”

Ethan can feel her falling asleep on him. He presses a kiss into her forehead. “Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“For the record, I am definitely your boyfriend.”

~v~

tags: @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @mrsramseyy @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ns*fw #ns/fw

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notmymainblog · 3 years

Note

A Sirius Black x reader angst where he's always flirting with other girls and one day she's had enough and breaks up with him. its only then that he realises how much he loves and needs her, but she doesn't want him anymore. angst ending for sirius, but maybe reader could have a new good relationship or something?

Obsession

Ok, so this is good but also like horrible. Like if I weren’t me, I would cringe at this (i honestly still kinda do). I’ve had a tough time writing at all but a harder time writing Sirius because an angry blow torch and hand mannequin boy are stuck rent-free in my mind. So I um...mixed fandoms I CAN'T HELP IT OK this is what you get for giving me creative freedom ig 🙄 , But I will get through the requests.

And at your request i will also rewrite this if you want LMAO

Master list

InteractiveFics

To use:

Download obvi. Click the icon (upper right by the search bar) in the first box to enter your name. If you did it correctly y/n should read as your actual name. Under that it will say something along the lines of “need to change something other than y/n?” there you can change anything you want.y/h/c and y/h don't work together so please enter y/ho if you're inputting your Hogwarts house

TW: Oh baby, get ready, kidnapping, semi-forced sex (coercion?) asshole Sirius, self-harm? Like scratching? Stupid fic that sucks, yandere Sirius which, yes, deserves a warning and a big one at that. Death threats, lol. Me simping for a psycho who desperately needs Chapstick.

Here's a song I like!

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It wasn't anything new. Not at all. It shouldn't be normal like this. But it was. Everyone wanted Sirius. Everyone. You often asked yourself why he chose you, but you had never come up with an answer, and neither had he. Sirius always laughed it off. Made a dumb joke. It was pointless.

Almost everything was pointless with Sirius. Making plans, sitting together, being partners in class, and it was incredibly pointless to try and object to sex.

It was always “oh, but y/n I need you so bad baby. Look at how hard I am. Just for you. So hard it fucking hurts. Oh y/n please, ”

So you always gave in. Before you were dating, every sexual exploit Sirius had was public knowledge. But he never told anyone about you. Most of the school didn't even know you were dating.

It was normal for Sirius to wink at a girl, put a hand on her thigh, compliment her before tucking her hair behind her ear, “I'm just joking y/n. I'm not fucking them. Don't be so dramatic.”

“You're not dramatic y/n, ” is what literally anyone else would say if you told them about it. But you didn't. Hell, not even the pillow you cried into knew why.

You had decided enough was enough.

“Sirius, we need to talk, love, ” you said as he tried to pull your shirt off.

He smirked “ooohh, I get it. You want to hear how fucking hard I am for you, how pretty you sound moaning my name?” he chuckled.

“N-no, I want to talk about something else, ” you whispered

“What? Do you have a piss kink or something?” he asked.

“No, Sirius, not everything is about sex!” you said, much louder than you intended to.

He nodded, “so it's your period, huh? It's ok, you can still blow me, ” he shrugged.

“No! It's about you being all over the other girls. All. The. Damn. Time. Every time I see you, a girl is hanging on your shoulder.” you said.

“Oh my god, y/n, you are the most dramatic woman I've ever met. Have you never had a friendly conversation before?” he scoffed.

“I've had plenty of conversations with other boys, and I didn't have my hand on their thigh the entire conversation,” you said.

“God, just calm down; why are you so emotional?” he sighed.

“why aren't you so emotional. Why aren't you worried that you made me sad? Do you even care?” you sniffled.

“Of course I care, but hon, we need to move past this. It's stupid, and I haven't really done anything wrong. It's fine, ” Sirius smiled, pulling at the waistband of your pants.

“Get off me, ” you groaned, pushing him away by his head.

“Ow ow ow y/n the hair! That hurts!” he whined.

You gave it an extra tug before storming into your dorm.

By the end of the night, your pillow was wet with tears and sticky with snot. You threw the cover off of it before washing your face. The cold water felt heavenly against your watery, itchy eyes and irritated nose. A couple of shaky deep breaths stilled your cries as you fell into the sweet release of sleep.

However, the morning was hell. The whispers and laughter were horrible. The sympathetic looks were even worse.

‘I don't need to be coddled; I'm not made of glass.’ you huffed to yourself.

You sat down at the y/ho table and began to eat. You felt a hot presence next to you.

“Hello, Dabi, ” you said dully.

“Hey princess, finally ditched dog breath, I see, ” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, why do you care?” you asked, stabbing your pancake aggressively.

“Because I take broken girls and manipulate them into doing whatever I want over a week because I'm so good at gaslighting. Got that from my dad, ” he winks.

Your brain loaded for a second, “excuse me, you what?”

“You heard me, sugar. But we both know you're much too smart and much too pretty for it,” Dabi said, leaning in.

“This is literally part of gaslighting Dabi, ” you laughed.

“Shut up, or it won't work, ” he whispered.

“Ah, alright, I'm so flattered that I'm special and your feelings are real, ” you said in a robotic voice.

“Ha!” he laughed, “you're not bad y/n we should be friends, ” he said.

You nodded, smiling, “alright.” making friends had always been hard for you so to have this opportunity fall in your lap was a blessing.

“Um, but my other friend is-” he started.

“Weird?” you interrupted.

“Um yeah, you could say that. Not to Tomura's face, but you could say that” he smiled

(and that ^^ is what happens when you forget to turn the writer's block sub back on)

A couple of days passed. Tomura kept to himself mostly. Calling him and Dabi friends was a stretch; they were enemies who enjoyed each other's company was the best way to describe it.

However, when Tomura did come around for the first time, he was obviously anxious, taking off his gloves and scratching his neck more than usual, leaving red marks.

(we need to have soft Tomura moments, but cannonly he would be a Slytherin and act the part, but I just need more of him being baby)

At one point, you simply yanked his hand away from his neck (by his arm, obviously). He stared at you, and for a second, you thought you were done for.

But his look turned to one of adoration, and he hasn't left you alone since. No one had done anything like that for him, which was... Surprising since it was literally the bare minimum. Nevertheless, he followed you around like a lost puppy dog.

He ate with you, read with you, partnered up with you (leaving a very annoyed Dabi to fend for himself). You could've easily discouraged him by ignoring him, but you felt bad for him. If you were honest, it felt good for someone to finally need you. And he really was a sweet boy. He just needed someone to talk to.

And not in a hurl-playful-insults type of way. He would talk to you about his hobbies, his favorite muggle games, everything. It made your heart warm. He kept his gloves on a lot more which made teachers and students alike sigh in relief.

Usually, he'd leave at least one hand free as a sort of “ill disintegrate your ass if you piss me off” way. But he wanted to be careful around you.

“y/n?” he said, sitting beside you.

“Yes, Tomura?” you smiled, closing your book. You learned quickly that if you weren't giving him your undivided attention, he would get discouraged and moody.

“There's a dance on Friday, ” he said, looking at you.

You really didn't understand where this was going. Sirius has never asked you to dance. He just got ready and dragged you with him until he found another girl to dance with.

You nodded, “yeah are you taking someone?”

“N-no, but I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” he asked timidly.

“Id love to, anything for you, my friend ” you smiled.

It was rare that someone gave him something he wanted without the threat of instant death. Even if it was just as friends, he was thrilled.

“And I, ” Dabi interrupted, “ want both of you to hang out with me. Because everyone else is “scared ill light them on fire”? What bullshit, ” he muttered.

“You would, Mr. anger issues. They have a good reason to be sacred. Most of us don't want to be toasted like a marshmallow, ” Tomura shot back, beginning to engage in their usual banter.

And so the night ended with laughter, but for Sirius, things hadn't been as fun.

“You miss her! Admit it!” James cried.

Sirius punched the wall, “yes! Yes, I fucking do, James! Ok! I get it! But her new “friends” will literally cremate me if I get close to her! And one of them is basically obsessed with her.” he huffed, “such a creep, ”

Remus grabbed Sirius by the shoulders, “I'm a nice guy, but Sirius, you did this to yourself. Even after she told you about how she felt you made...you made...” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I still can't believe you made a fucking period joke!”

“Jeez, Rem, it wasn't a joke, ” he said.

“Sirius, ” James said, “that's even worse,”

“Even James knows what he's doing, Sirius!” Remus cried, “ladies-man, my ass, you don't know what you're doing!”

“Girls like assholes, ” he shrugged. “I was born for this, ”

“At least he's self-aware, ” Remus muttered

“If she liked assholes like you, Sirius, she’d be fucking Dabi right now, ” James said.

“Make it up to her, ” Remus said, pushing him out of the room, “like right now!”

Sirius muttered something about a ‘burnt piece of toast looking man’ before sulking down the stairs.

He dragged his feet to the y/ho common room. The girls were like mosquitoes; they were bearable at first, but now they were really fucking annoying.

Sirius let out an audible sigh when he saw you weren't there, alerting everyone of his presence. And so the mosquitoes swarmed him again.

“Oh my god, get off, ” he finally groaned, pushing away from the group of pouting girls.

He dragged his feet up the stairs to your dorm, peeking in to make sure your personal blow torch wasn't there. What he did see pissed him off. More than anything ever had.

There you were with Shigaraki dabbing lotion on the scratches and taking care of him. He should be the only one you took care of. Him and only him. Hell, he would kill the wrinkly bastard if he had to. Take him away so you would only fall for him. Only him. He'd get rid of Dabi too. It didn't fucking matter to him.

The only thing that stopped him was the realization that, in a way, he sounded just like his parents—mindless killing. He swallowed his pride and knocked on the door.

“What's up, you fiery bastard?” you called to who you assume was Dabi.

“A fiery what?” Sirius called back.

You tensed, and Tomura placed a gloved hand on yours, squeezing softly.

“Come in, ” you said glumly.

“Hey, um, I just came in here to apologize and see if you wanted to go to that dance with me?” he asked.

Tomura reached a hand to his neck, but before he could start, you grabbed his arm again.

“Hey, what did we talk about? No scratching. I don't want you hurting yourself, Tomu, ” you said quietly.

The nickname hit him like a truck; he loved it. He loved it more than anything on earth. He loved you more than anything on earth- no, more than anything in any galaxy.

“Sirius, I’m already taking someone to the dance. And they're a lot nicer than you. So, kindly, fuck off.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth almost dropped open, “who?” he said.

“None of your business, ” you scowled.

“They'll never love you the way I did, sweetie. You know that. I'm the only one who could really love you.” he cooed.

Tomura was filled with rage, but he clenched his hand at his side instead of scratching. He didn't want to disappoint you.

“Y-you love me?” you whisper.

“Of course I do baby, I love my girl more than anything on earth, ” he smiled, but it never reached his eyes.

“Whos gonna love you better than I can, huh?” he asked, “nobody, that's who, ”

His lips moved of his own accord, “You're wrong, ” Tomura said.

“Oh yeah?” he growled, “who? Blow torch boy?”

“No, ” he said, standing up and taking a breath, “me, ”

Sirius just looked at him and laughed, “please, you'll fucking kill her. Literally. What will she do with gloved hands? They can't touch you like mine do, baby, ”

That snapped you right out of your trance, “oops, I must have forgotten that you're missing a brain, Black. You only think with your dick, which, by the way, isn't even that great.”

“And for your information, as long as he has one finger covered, he can touch me, ” you huffed, standing up as well.

This was it, the moment Shigaraki had waited for; it should have been more romantic and without your ex, but still, this was it. Someone cleared their throat from behind Sirius.

“You're blocking the door, dog breath. Get out of the way or say goodbye to your eyebrows, ” Dabi said.

He moved reluctantly, and Dabi flopped down on your bed.

“If you're gonna take this asshole back, you should gimme a chance. I bet I fuck better than him, ” he smirked.

“We’ll talk later without these assholes—astronomy tower. 3:00 am,” Sirius mumbled before shutting the door.

You wrapped your arms around Tomura, rubbing his back.

“I'm not going. Don't worry, ” you said, knowing how anxious Tomura was.

He nodded and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait, wait, wait a fucking minute. Did I miss a season? Can I have a fucking recap?” Dabi groaned.

And so, you talked late into the night with an arm around Tomura and a very angry Dabi who was sent into the bathroom to take a cold shower after almost burning your bed.

Sirius waited for over an hour for you at the tower. He stomped on the roses, pulling off each petal before throwing them off the tower.

“Those assholes, ” he growled, breathing heavily, “I'll kill them. I'll fucking kill them both of them, ” he rambles for a good thirty minutes before stomping down the stairs.

He slammed the door to his dorm open.

“She didn't fucking show that fucking asshole stole her from me, and I'm gonna kill them both of them and make her all mine, ” he rambled.

“Merlin Siri, calm down. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban (😳), you'd better get ahold of yourself.” James yawned.

“For the love of god, go to fucking sleep, Sirius. She's not vanishing tomorrow.” Remus groaned.

“You're a genius!” Sirius shouted.

“Oh my god. Sirius, no. Bad dog. Don't kidnap girls you like... Or well are obsessed with. Love is a stretch, ” Remus said, going back to sleep.

But come morning, you were not, in fact, at breakfast.

Sirius almost vomited when he saw you with your arms around Tomura. Tomura Shigaraki, the perpetual thorn in his side. He carefully lifted you and carried you to a small closet no one but him even knew about before binding and gagging you. He thought it was so sweet. Waking up slowly, not knowing where you are.

When you're y/e/c eyes met his, your face contorted into disgust. It broke his heart to watch his brainwashed little girl so mad at him.

He stroked your cheek, “Oh baby girl, I hope you can clear your mind from all the silly things they told you. It would be lovely if it were before the dance, but... A two-day timeframe may not do the trick.” he tutted, placing a kiss on your nose.

You tried to squirm away but just backed yourself into a corner. Sirius muttered a silencing charm before removing the gag.

“Dabi is gonna burn you to bits, Sirius, ” you growled.

“Whatever makes you happy, my love, you are allowed to think. Even if you're oh so wrong. Even if I know they don't care for you the way I do, ” he cooed.

“Oh my god, Tomura is gonna flip, ” you said, “shit, I hope he's ok, I hope he doesn't think I just left him, ” tears brimmed your eyes.

“What if he hurts himself? Oh god, Sirius, please let me go, ” you pleaded.

“No can do, sweetheart, ” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips as you tried to turn away.

It felt like days, even though it was only a couple of hours. Sirius kept telling you that only he loved you. How a silly little girl like you could never survive without him. That no one else wanted you this way.

But finally, after dozens of prayers to whoever's listening, James and Remus opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius cried, “you'll ruin it! Everything I've worked for! You weren't even supposed to know where we were!”

“We have a fucking map, Sirius. This is so creepy. You're so creepy. Get out of here, man.” Said James as he pulled him out by his hair.

Remus made quick work of the knots before setting you free. After giving them both two quick hugs, you rushed to breakfast. Your eyes scanned the hall for light blue or spiky black hair. You found the latter first.

“Hey Dabi, where's Tomura, ” you asked.

“Wouldn't you like to know, ” he sneered over his coffee.

“Yes, I would like to fucking know flame boy, ” you said.

“How can you just leave in the middle of the night and demand to know where he is?” he said, slamming a fist on the table.

“Cause I was taken from my bed by a psycho and spent the last couple hours trapped in a closet!” you whisper shouted, showing him the rope marks.

“I'm gonna incinerate him; he's in your dorm still. Didn't wanna leave.” Dabi whispered.

The walk back to the y/ho dorms felt excruciatingly long. When you finally burst through the door, your heart broke. There was Tomura nearly shaking, crying softly with bleeding scratches on his neck.

You crouched in front of him, reaching up to touch his face before he grabbed your arm.

“You left, ” he whispered, “was it for him? Please just tell the truth,”

“I didn't want to Tomu, ” you said, “He took me, and I couldn't stop him. He put me in a closet, and the whole time, I was thinking about you nonstop. I was worried, and I missed you. I just wanted you. You make me feel so safe, darling,”

He pulled you into his chest by your arm; you never realized how strong he was. He made slow circles on your back with his finger.

“It's ok, ” he whispered, “it's ok, ” he too saw the marks from the rope on your wrist.

(how do I fucking end this. Do I kill off Sirius? AH, I know).

The days felt shorter with Dabi and Tomura by your side. Suddenly it was the day of the dance. You woke up to soft kisses on the back of your neck.

“Good morning, love, ” you said sleepily.

“Good morning to you too, y/n, ” he whispered.

The day went by quickly; the teachers gave up on teaching, and before you know it, you were slipping on your dress.

Your hands clenched into fists as you walked past Sirius, feeling his eyes on you. You were too scared to tell anyone. And who would they believe? The golden boy who was the purest kindest family member, or you?

You felt his eyes on you as a burnt and stapled arm wrapped around your shoulders. He pointed to a very nervous Tomura.

“Please, for the love of god y/n calm the man down, ” he said.

The closer you got, the more you blushed; he was amazing. He was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen. You stopped in your tracks as a girl stopped to talk to him.

This was it; it was the end; it was happening again. But instead, Tomura shook his head, and the girl walked away. You ran over to him (as fast as your shoes allowed) and wrapped your arms around his neck.

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck, “you're so amazing, ” you whispered

His arms wrapped around your waist, “I'm happy you think so, my dear, ” he smiled.

And you spent the night dancing as Sirius broke the glass he was holding in his hand. But he'd get you again someday, he knew it.

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This was long. This was pathetic. This was horrible. The was unrealistic. This was cringe-worthy. This was dramatic. I should probably make a side account. It all started with a playlist on my recommended and idk which mental illness caused this or if I'm just dramatic, but my brain immediately latched on to this burnt piece of toast, and after watching the show, this wrinkly psycho. It's been hard to write, period. But also hard to write Sirius, but I will power through, I promise.

#Sirius Black #Sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius x you #sirius black angst #angst #sad?#mha #mixed fandom #Harry Potter #harry potter marauders #marauders era #this sucks so good

70 notes · View notes

undeadsnorlax · 3 years

Text

Can Anybody Tell Me Why I’m Lonely Like a Satellite?

heyyy my first fic for @badthingshappenbingo. starting things off with my favourite space boy

Ao3 link

Prompt: Loneliness

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (TV Series)

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, angsty as hell

Wordcount: 2603

A day in the life of Luther on the moon.

***

Wakey-wakey.

“Urgh…” Five more minutes…

Come on. You need to get up.

Luther groaned, rolling onto his back and squinting up at the blank metal ceiling. It took him a few more minutes to open his eyes properly, and a couple more to roll over and check the clock with another groan. 22:47.

“It’s early,” he mumbled, swinging his legs around and rubbing his face down. Well, early in his sense, at least.

Fifteen minutes won’t kill you. Means you could go to bed earlier later tonight, technically.

Luther considered this and nodded, slowly getting to his feet and walking toward the door-

Thunk!

“Every time!” he cried, rubbing his forehead. He’d learn to duck eventually.

He stretched his arms until his fingers brushed the ceiling, then placed a hand at the bottom of his back and arched it, grunting at the dull crunch his spine made.

With a few more stretches, he dragged his feet over to the counter, smiling at the small potted umbrella plant there.

“Evenin’ Ben,” he said softly, large fingers stroking the leaves before picking up the tiny watering can.

Hey Luther.

Luther let out a sigh, tapping one of the radars beeping away on the workstation below the plant.

Something wrong?

“Nah, nothing.”

He shrugged and went about doing his other ‘morning’ chores. Checking the base’s oxygen levels, collecting any trash, seeing if there was any response from home.

Nothing. Of course.

Luther dressed in his space suit, taking the bag of trash out and dumping it with the rest.

He allowed himself a moment of freedom, pure gleeful joy as he bounced light as air across the moon’s surface. He’d been up here two and a half years and this part still never got old. He was in space!

He pushed off from the ground hard, floating a foot higher before landing with a weightless thud. Grinning behind his helmet, he tilted his head to look up at the Earth in front of him.

It was awesome, thinking about how one planet could contain so many billions of people going about, living their lives.

Including four of the ones he’d grown up with. What would they be doing right now? Vanya would definitely be going to bed, and maybe Allison was doing a late night movie shoot. Klaus would probably be partying and Diego doing...whatever he did.

Luther let out a heavy sigh, his grin fading. No use in wondering like that. Just reminded him of how everything fell apart.

He was brought back into focus by his stomach rumbling. He clasped at it for a moment, staring blankly at the stars, before trudging back to base to eat.

Running low on those.

Luther narrowed his eyes as he opened a packet of soy paste, slumping down heavily on the nearest chair.

“I know,” he said quietly, squeezing every last drop into his mouth ravenously.

He also knew this would do nothing but numb his hunger for only a few hours, knew this wouldn’t have been enough food for him even before his accident. For as little as he did physically up here, his body still craved energy, and this shit just didn’t cut it.

You asked Dad for more, right?

“Every time.” Luther glared at the plant. “I’m due more soon, okay? Today or tomorrow…”

He drummed his fingers against his thigh, staring at the empty packet. Reluctantly, he went to the box and got another, pretending it was something more elaborate instead. One of Grace’s amazing dinners, a rich beef casserole in a thick red wine sauce, with potatoes and vegetables, maybe some kind of pie for dessert, with ice cream-

He groaned, swallowing the mouthful of saliva he’d formed at the mere thought.

Not helping?

“I miss real food.” He rubbed his middle, feeling at least a little more full, enough to concentrate on work.

Have you checked your bandages?

Luther licked his lips, before shaking his head, looking away like a naughty schoolboy getting a scolding.

Do that. Please? It’s been a few days.

“Okay, okay.”

He went to the cramped bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror first. He looked rough.

Dismissing that observation, he slowly zipped down his top, careful to not get it stuck on his body hair.

How’s it look?

“Better. Honest.”

The bandage itself, on his right side just above the ribs, looked a little grubby, dried dark brown stains having seeped through. Carefully, he picked at the medical tape keeping it in place, wincing every time it caught a stray hair, but managed to rip it off and inspect the wound underneath.

A laceration done in such a way there was a small chunk of flesh missing, but it was healing nicely.

Luther reached for his first aid kit, pouring out some antiseptic onto a cloth and pressing it down. He winced again, gritting his teeth, but knew it was all worth it to help it get better.

As he prepared clean bandages to patch it up again, Ben chimed in.

It was scary when you did that. You were so scared.

Luther’s gut churned with unease, remembering the frantic, near manic state he went into a few days prior. It wasn’t the first time it had happened either. A sudden burst of wild emotion overwhelmed him, forcing him to his knees as he tried to let it pass, but the feeling inside him just got worse and worse.

Are you okay now?

“I don’t know.”

He bandaged himself up again, before he traced along a similar mark on his stomach, healed now into a bright pink scar.

His fingers curled into a fist, zipping up his top again before he could do more damage to himself. Ignoring the urge hadn’t done much good the last few times, but maybe this time he’d figure out a way to not hurt himself again.

Doubt it…

He went back to sit at a console, rummaging through the mess of paper cluttering the table.

What’re you doing today?

“Going through these.” Luther scratched his chin as he thought, eyes skipping down the page. “Need to arrange them in order, rewrite them neater...pretty boring, right?”

What work isn’t?

Luther chuckled, splitting the paper into small piles. “Got that right.”

And then silence. Luther became engrossed in his work, only moving to either stretch his back or use the bathroom, and even that wasn’t often.

Sure, it was boring but...it was his kind of boring. One of his earliest memories was pouring over a book on the solar system, using it to try and figure out the constellations he could see from his bedroom window. Him and Five raced to have their hand up first during their physics classes.

It became a one man race after he vanished.

Luther tapped his pen against his temple, chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind was drifting, thinking of his siblings again.

He tried not to think of Five too often, but he still wondered what the hell could have happened to him. Sometimes he wondered if his brother had just settled somewhere. Gotten taken in by a nice family who looked after him.

He didn’t like the alternative. The portrait that hung in the living room reminded him every day for over a decade of the alternative.

That’s how he tried to feel about Ben. He was in a better place. He was at peace. Happier, maybe.

Again. Better than any alternative.

He wasn’t even sure he believed in an afterlife.

With a heavy sigh, Luther pressed his head down against the desk, closing his eyes for a second...

Luther…?

He jolted to sit up again, muscles tensing for a moment before he relaxed, picking the piece of paper that had stuck to his forehead. “Wha’?”

Drifted off bud. Not long.

“Ah. Right.”

You have been working hard for a while.

“It’s not that long-“

Luther cut off upon seeing the time. Eight hours had passed since he started. “Oh. Dang.”

You deserve a break.

“No, I’m...I’m nearly done, it’s fine.”

Luther…

“It’s fine.”

He didn’t mean to snap. He flinched the moment he did, putting his head in his hands.

Look, I get it.

“No you don’t. You’re a plant.”

Luther turned on his seat to face said plant, scowling at the thing. “You’re a voice in my head.”

Helps though, doesn’t it?

Luther wrinkled his nose a little, turning away and tapping a finger against the desk.

Helps to have someone to talk to.

“Crazy Luther Hargreeves, all alone on the moon with a plant that sounds like the brother he let die,” he muttered.

You know that’s not true.

“It’s true enough.”

He suddenly became aware of another console that had been letting out several beeps. Luther gritted his teeth and made his way over, reading the screen.

DELIVERY INCOMING

ESTIMATED ARRIVAL 0823

“Told you more food was coming,” he said, going to suit up once more. He’d missed it landing with his quick nap by about ten minutes.

Out on the moon’s surface, Luther tilted his head back, taking a slow deep breath. He could see the pod the package came in at the usual spot, but he desperately needed some quiet.

Inside his base, there was always some kind of noise. Little things, the consoles and monitors gently humming away in the background, the soft drip of a tap he might have left on. Constant.

Even back home in the mansion after everyone left, he grew used to the creak of floorboards, the structure settling around him. Every opening door making him perk up and hope someone was walking through, coming back.

Outside, on the surface, it was silent. It was like he could hear his body working, every thump of his heart that sent blood coursing through his veins.

In space no one can hear you scream…

So he did. He bent his knees, and took a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs. Everything contained within his helmet.

Straightening up, he screamed again, a rush of catharsis overwhelming his brain. It felt good to scream. He should do this more often. Better than hurting himself.

His chest ached a little as he caught his breath once more, staring dazed at the ink black sky above him.

So much...nothing. The night skies were never this clear back on Earth and maybe now he was glad because being confronted with such a sheer vast nothingness every day was sure getting to him. Would explain why his plant was talking.

Luther scrunched his eyes tight, and went to get the delivery. He dragged it inside, changing from his suit once more and tearing the box open.

Anything good?

He glanced up, narrowing his eyes, before getting out smaller boxes of soy paste. He sighed, inspecting the writing. They always said they were different flavours, but he mostly got the same soggy muesli or stale bread taste with every packet he consumed.

That…doesn’t look like a lot.

“Shut up, I know…”

Luther set one aside and put the rest in his food cupboard. He didn’t take a chair this time, just slumped down on the floor and gently squeezed the contents through the packet, huffing heavily.

Luther, that’s not going to last.

“I’ll make it last,” he mumbled, unscrewing the top and sucking gently, trying to savour it, “I have to…”

He tried to focus on the gentle hum of the base instead, closing his eyes to help. He wasn’t sure what had happened in recent months that his food packages were becoming less frequent, and less in amount, but it didn’t help anyone to dwell on that. Dad was busy, he had stuff to do…

C’mon big guy. You know that’s bullshit.

Luther glared up at the ceiling. That was new. Hearing Ben’s voice had happened surprisingly quickly, the moment he decided to name his plant after him. He never heard anyone else’s voice, but having Diego’s growling in his brain was almost a welcome change.

Almost.

You really think he’s that concerned for you up here?

“Shut up…”

Should’ve gotten out when you had the chance.

“Shut up!”

Luther slammed his head back against the console, grunting from the quick hit of pain. When Diego’s voice didn’t go away, kept taunting the same message of should have gotten out when you had the chance, he did it again...and again.

Until there was silence.

Too much silence.

Using the counter for support, he got to his feet and went back to his desk, staring at the piles of paper in front of him.

“This mission is of the utmost importance, Number One.”

That’s what his father had told him after explaining he was going to the moon. He’d blankly affirmed, not pointed out how pointless it was to refer to him by his number when it was just him left (because look what happened last time he said that), and gone along with it.

His whole life, Luther had been raised to lead a team and save the world. His team had left one way or another, and the ‘world saving’ work he did was mostly thankless.

But here he was. On the moon. Part of the mission. Everything was part of this lifelong mission. All the data he was collecting, the experiments he ran, they were important for...something.

Luther stared at his hand, the greyed skin and dark fur that kept making him forget it was his hand. This was all part of it too, somehow. It had to be.

Otherwise…

He finished his work. Filed away the pages neatly and made plans to send them out tomorrow.

For a moment, he hesitated by the umbrella plant, reaching to touch it’s delicate leaves.

“...Ben?” he said softly.

Nothing. Of course not.

With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself back to his bedroom, grabbing his personal notebook from the side table. He flicked through the pages until he landed on the poem he’d been struggling with for the last week, tapping his pen against the words.

Constellations are families, each star has their purpose, their name and position.

They work together as something bigger, part of the galaxy’s nightly exhibition.

There must be times where they can do nothing but fight,

When it grows so tiring to always be shining so bright.

Luther clicked his tongue, frowning at the words. Of all the hobbies he could have taken to pass time up here, he never anticipated poetry, but he was really getting into it, having filled pages already, some of which he’d sent back...just in case Dad was curious.

He could just see his plant on the counter through the door. He went to call Ben’s name again, but he cut himself off and shut his eyes, focusing on the hum of the base once more instead.

The voice in his head was never Ben. Ben was dead. Five had gone long ago. Allison, Diego, Klaus and Vanya were back on Earth living their lives. Had been living their lives quite easily without him.

He’d managed by himself. He was exactly where he wanted.

In space. On the moon. Just him.

Number One.

By himself.

Like it had been for years now.

Tomorrow he’d wake up and go through this again. The self-doubt and the spiralling and the focusing on work so hard to forget what was really happening. Maybe his plant would start talking to him again.

But really they know that no matter how much they argue and moan,

Being a family at odds is far better than being one star all alone.

#the umbrella academy #trope: loneliness #tua fic #luther hargreeves #undeadbthb #badthingshappenbingo

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

My Hero

Pro Hero! Red Riot x Reader

I havent seen much for Pro Hero Red Riot so I thought Id mine as well give it a shot! This is a rewrite of one of my older fics so I hope its a little better than the last :)

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Genre: Angst (ish) to Fluff

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: Catcalling, cussing

Summary: When you decide to leave your neglectful date and walk home, your met with a drunken idiot who cant seem to understand the meaning of “No”-until the hero Red Riot comes to save the day.

One Shot

(RULES | MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

Why did I ever think this was going to be fun,” you thought miserably, the chilly night air biting your exposed skin.

Parties were never your “thing”, since nobody really invited you. It wasn’t because you were hated at your school or were an outcast; it was just you didn’t care to belong to a ‘clique’. You were a roamer, being a friend to anyone who was nice and social enough to talk to you, but you never became to the level of close friends with any of them. So, when you had been invited to go to a house party by one of your guy friends who was a little bit popular, you were more than just a “little” shocked. You were completely confused on why, but you shrugged it off and just decided to go. How bad could it be?

Very bad, more than you had expected, and now you were cursing at yourself for even agreeing to be his date. He decided to take you with a group of his old high school friends, who were the definition of a typical “Popular” group of high school: a bunch of lip glossed cheerleaders and crazy sports fanatics. It would’ve been tolerable to be around such a group if your “date” was polite enough to pay attention to you, but he had ran off to be idiots with all his football buddies, leaving you defenseless with the slightly air headed cheerleaders.

You were seriously itching to rip out your hair from frustration all night.

When two hours of having to deal with high pitch squeals from girls who would laugh at anything the guys would say finally hit, you were thoroughly annoyed and grossed out and wanted to go home. You tracked down your date, told him you were leaving, and walked yourself home, politely declining his offer of driving you home.

You had just passed what looked like another house party, the music pumping through the windows as people came in and out of the house, stumbling and dancing around with no care in the world.

To say you were mad was an understatement. You were exhausted from having to act like you were enjoying yourself so you didnt look like a whiny prick, mad that you had actually used up your money (and was now broke) on a dress and a pair of shoes you’d never wear again, and a little hurt your “date” just left you to fend for yourself with his buddies’ dates all night.

You were so frustrated at yourself and the whole situation, you almost didn’t hear the person behind you.

“Hey hottie, where ya going lookin like that?”

You whipped around, the slurred voice making your blood run cold.

The guy in front of you was definitely intoxicated, his overly gelled hair slicked back, his polo untucked and a red cup in his hand. His face was plastered with such a smug smile, it made you want to cringe from disgust. This guy was a total creep.

“Buzz off,” you gave him a dirty look, mustering your face to look menacing when on the inside you were terrified.

“Playing hard to get, huh, babe? I like that,” the drunken idiot walked closer, his drink sloshing out of the cup and the stink of alcohol and sweat hitting you, making you feel dizzy.

“No,” you walked backwards quickly in fear, “Im trying to get away from you! Now go to back to your party and leave me alone.” You pleaded the last part, wishing you could break out in a run but knew you’d hurt yourself on your shoes.

He was getting too close for comfort. You could now see clearly the stitching of the emblem on his polo, a bright cherry red. HIs breath was suffocating you, making it harder to breath. You looked around desperately for any way out.

“Why dont you come inside, baby- you’ll definitely want to stay here once your alone with me,” the drunken idiot licked his lips, making you shiver in disgust.

“What the hell!” you gasped in shock, pushing him away from you. “Get the hell away from me you creep!” you yelled, hoping somebody would hear you as you frantically walked backwards, trying a last ditch attempt to shake this creepo off as he drunkenly groped for your arm.

“Whats your deal?!” the man yelled accusingly, as if you were in the wrong and stumbling closer to you. “Why are you being such a bitc-”

“I wouldnt finish that sentence if I were you.”

You looked up quickly, your eyes still wide with terror as you searched for the source of the voice. Your gaze fell upon a boy wearing a plain gray hoodie, with spiky hair as red as a cherry. His eyes were dark, slanted in a mad glare. He looked as if he was going on a night run, and you felt relief flood your body- somebody heard you and was willing to help.

“What the hell dude, mind your own damn business-!” the drunk yelled out in anger, but then he paused, and something strange happened- the man actually looked scared. ‘Wait...I know that hair...your the hero Red Riot, right?” he said with a mix of awe and terror, turning sober for the span of .2 seconds.

“Huh, so you do have a brain? Wouldn’t have guessed that!” he laughed, a feeling of safety warming your body- a Hero was saving you-and a great one at that! You remembered that name instantly- you had seen Red Riot all the time on TV, sporting that signature red, spiky hair everywhere he went. He was always fighting some villain with that amazing Hardening quirk of his, and you had always taken time to admire his costume (and his amazing body). He was pretty young for a hero, around his early 20′s, but was already being described as one of the “Best Debuting Heroes” of that year.

The drunk man stood there, his groggy mind trying to understand the insult. You took that time to make a run for it- you shoved him again, his drink spilling all over his shirt as you ran towards your savior.

“Dude, what the hell!” he sputtered as he looked down at his now beer soaked shirt.

Red Riot instantly protected you once you got close enough to him, shielding you with his body from the idiot in front of you two. “You gotta admit,” Red Riot said, a laugh spilling out of his lips, “you kinda deserved that. Its not cool to keep pushing on a girl if she says “no”, man.”

The drunken man’s face turned red from anger and embarrassment.

“Ya know what, he yelled, “I dont give a damn if your a hero, I’m gonna beat your ass into the ground!”

The drunken idiot threw his cup on the floor, sprinting up to the hero and throwing him a punch aimed for his head.

You gasped, not expecting something so reckless and violent to happen so quickly. Red Riot instantly blocked, though, as if it was a reflex, his hardening quirk making his arm jagged like a mountain cliff.

“Hitting a hero! That wasnt very smart,” Red Riot replied calmly, as if amused. You watched the drunk’s face contort in shock, and then into panic as Red Riot swung a matching punch to his face, knocking him out cold.

Kirishima looked down at the man in distaste- he hated scumbags like this, who treat others like property and expect rewards for being aggressive. To be honest, he’d loved to do more than just one lousy punch on this idiot but- he was a hero, and heroes didn’t abuse their powers. If he did, he’d be just as bad as this creep.

He sighed, giving one last look to make sure the drunk was breathing and okay-which he was- and turned to the startled girl behind him.

“You alright miss?” Red Riot asked softly, concern in his voice.

You turned sharply, your hair flipping away from your face as you looked up at the hero, your chest hurting from the fear you were feeling moments before.

You looked at him in shock and awe- “You just saved my life,” you stated, the sound of your steady voice surprising you.

He scratched his head, almost looking embarrassed. “Its nothing, really,’ he said quickly, his concern pushing you for an answer. “DId he do anything to you? Are you hurt?”

“A little shaken up,” you said with a weak smile, “but nothing I cant handle.”

“Im sorry you had to deal with that,” he stated, the slight anger in his voice surprising you. “But- is it okay if I can walk you home? I really don’t feel comfortable letting you walk by yourself. The streets are super dangerous at night.”

You laughed sarcastically, trying to ease your nerves and keep the growing pit of emotions at bay. “Yeah, kinda figured that out the hard way.” You paused, thinking the new situation over- you didnt want to walk home by yourself, that was not happening. You felt unsafe, and violated, and the anger and slight embarrassment bubbled in your stomach, threatening to come out in streams across your face. You wanted to forget this, and you felt embarrassed that someone witnessed what just happened, even if it was a person who helped you and you surprisingly felt comfortable around. He seemed like a genuinely good person- someone who would listen to and truly care about someone.“I shouldn’t be embarrassed,” you thought violently to yourself, “it isn’t your fault.” But the feeling of being rejected and then sought after in a disgusting way made you feel crushed, and you couldn’t keep everything in any more. The tears came quietly, then slowly came on harder, the sound of sobbing escaping your mouth.

You willed your tears to go back, to evaporate and leave you, but that, inevitablely, didn’t work. But, surprisingly, the hero didn’t question this. He gently wrapped his arms around you, the soft thin fabric shielding your exposed skin from the cold.

It did feel awkward to hug a stranger at first, but it quickly soothed you.. He didn’t feel so much as a stranger, but an anonymous confidant, a past friend, someone who was easy to be with and be your real self, and not have to pretend that life was great all the time. Sometimes life throws you some curveballs-You just needed someone who a least cared a little bit about how you felt when you got two curveballs in one night.

“You’re safe, I got you. Its not your fault- Youll be okay.”

Your shoulders shook slightly as the tears left your face, the feeling of relievement making you feel much better. As your breathing began to go back to normal pace, you pushed away gently, your now shiny face smiling in embarrassment with a sniffle.

“Are you sure he didnt hurt you? Or do anything to you?” he asked again, his voice filled with care and urgency as he looked into your eyes, searching for an answer. His hands on your shoulders shielded you from the cold, the fabric tickling your skin.

“Yeah, Im okay, what you saw is all he did,” you said, your voice thick from crying. “Im sorry I broke down a little, just-, you sighed, feeling there was no point in keeping your walls up- “ it hasnt been the best night.”

He hugged you again, this time being quicker and harder.

“Dont be sorry for crying, you deserve to. Im just sorry I wasnt here sooner.”

Your heart melted a little for this boy and his big heart. You pushed a piece of hair away from your face, your cheeks a little warmer than the rest of your body.

“No your fine, you didnt know that was happening, Im just so grateful for you helping when you did. I really do mean it when I said you saved my life.”

The hero shuffled, embarrassment yet again evident in his mannerism.

“Just doing my job I guess!” his eyes filled with happiness, the evident blush looking almost comical.

“So- is it alright if I can walk you home?”

You giggled, your stress now alleviated and the look on his face looking so silly it made you feel almost peaceful.

“Of course,” you replied, and you began to walk alongside him.

You two walked quietly, the soft breeze nipping your skin, but filling your lungs with brisk air, clearing your head. The silence between you two was comfortable as both of you thought deeply. You were going over the events of the night- the feel of betrayal and annoyance, then extreme fear, and relief, and sadness, guilt, happiness- it was so much to process you couldn’t wrap your head around it. But one thing you could think clearly on was the person next to you. You gave him a side eyed glance, staring at his sweatshirt, the toned muscles contouring the sweatshirt. You wish you could know who he was- he seemed sweet and genuine, and not to mention even more handsome in person. But being around him felt peaceful, even for just talking to him for a few moments-the feeling was a little intoxicating.

As Red Riot caught your side eyed glance, the feeling of butterflies filled his stomach. He had just met this girl, but he already knew he liked her. She had a fighter’s spirit, she wasnt hung over the fact that he was a hero and gawking at him like some object- she treated him like a person, not just some hero. She was sweet to him, even though she looked like she just had the crappiest night of her life. And the fact he found her unbelievably pretty made the butterflies fill his stomach with a ticklish feeling.

You two began to start talking a little, slowly becoming more comfortable. You talked about everything, from school to friends to hero work to anything you could think of. By the end, both of you were hurting from laughing and the smiles that were plastered on your faces.

You both reached the front steps of your apartment building, the look of happiness on your face making Kirishima feel great inside. He knew a comfortable walk would make you feel better- it always did for him. But he knew he just met you and he shouldn’t go out of his way so much to help a stranger, but you looked like you needed it. And he had this itching feeling like you deserved something good to happen to you. Everyone does, right?

You looked at him, feeling a rush of butterflies fill your stomach. You had never wanted to get to know someone more so hard in your life. To just know who he was and thank him properly would alleviate the sudden need to know him, not just “Red Riot”. You grabbed your hands tightly, wishing the walk wouldnt ever end.

“Thanks again for everything,” you smiled warmly, making Red Riot’s stomach bubble with butterflies.

“Yeah, no problem!” he replied, sadness ebbing into him at the thought of leaving you. His eyes suddenly light up, an idea striking him.

“Do you by any chance have your phone on you?” he asked sweetly. You gave him a slightly confused look, but nodded, handing him your phone.

He quietly punched in a few characters in the key pad, and then handed back your phone. You looked down and there was his phone number in your contacts, and his name- “Kirishima.”

“That’s my last name-and- uh- my number,” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “If you never need anything, or want to talk and maybe...go on a date, just-”

“How about tomorrow at 2?” you asked quickly, wanting so badly to meet him again.

Kirishima was caught completely off guard- in a good way. Electricity flooded his body, as if all his nerves were on everload..

“2 so great! I'll be off tomorrow, so wherever you want to meet, I'll be there!” His smile was so happy and large, you couldn't help but smile back.

“Thanks again,” you said softly, feeling as if you were in a dream.

Then you did something you wouldn't even expect from yourself- you kissed him on the cheek, before looking one last time at your hero before you closed your front door softly.

“Wait!” Kirishima yelled as he realized something.

“Hm?” you opened the door a crack, your freezing legs hidden behind the warm inside of the door.

“I never got your name!”

You laughed as you realized you never actually did introduce yourself. “Its y/n!”

Kirishima thought your name was beautiful- a pretty name to match a pretty girl. “Well- good night y/n!” You waved goodbye, a smile playing on your lips as you closed your door.

Kirishima looked at your front porch, the spot you kissed still tingling and his heart pounding. He looked at your door in a blissful daze- he couldn’t believe that just happened. A grin spread on his face as he finally turned away from your house, and walked off with a warmth creeping in his chest. A pretty girl he saved kissed him. Well- on his cheek- but still. It was a win for the books.

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Requests open!!!!!

#bnha #bnha hc #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #bnha kirishima x y/n #bnha kirishima x you #bnha kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima x reader #kirishima #kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #bnha red riot #red riot #bnha red riot x reader #bnha red riot x you #red riot one shot #bnha red riot x y/n

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

The Nanny Affair

Chapter 12.) The Gala. Part 4.

Author’s Note: This little fanfic rewrite of chapter 12 was a challenge thrown down by a skilled writer/sister friend. I accept! (Contains MAJOR Spoilers! If you don’t like to be spoiled or haven’t read the chapter; do NOT continue!) (All Characters and some of the dialogues are property of Pixelberry. This is just a fun little fanfic rewrite of chapter 12.). One more thing: this was written entirely on my iPhone.

***Rated: Mature 18+. Contains sexual content, nudity and strong language.

***Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters.

***Characters: Sam Dalton (LI), Krystal Parker (MC), Mason, Mickey and Carter and Mr. and Mrs. Dalton (Side Characters).

Part 4 not only picks up where Part 3 left off but; it ends our story.

And I wrote this finale in one day! Yay me! 😁💃🏾👍🏾🙌🏾👏🏾

Current Word Count: 2,128 words.

It finally happened. Sam finally got Krystal right where he wanted her.

He’s been dying to fuck her, ever since the day she walked into his office. That damn interview. That’s what did it. That’s where it all started.

The black dress and jacket she wore that day; framed her delicious curves. The heels she wore that day, drove him insane. Her bright smile sends chills down his spine. Her brown eyes hypnotize him. He wanted to suck on her lips whenever she pouted. Her chocolate skin was incredibly soft. He’s not so secretly obsessed with her. Wherever he is; she HAS TO either be by his side or within close proximity to him; just for him to function properly.

She is this tall beautiful black woman. She had to be 5’9 or 5’10, he wasn’t exactly sure which.

And she loves his boys. Maybe even more than he does. She’s patient, loving, silly and caring with them. Even when they mess up or when their many “experiments” go HORRIBLY wrong; she never yells or gets angry. She simply shakes her head; then explains to them why they can’t do that again even though; there have been times that he just knew she’d quit; because they drove her past her breaking point. But no, she didn’t.

She tries to teach them as much as she can. He’s watched her and them stand in the driveway with the boy’s telescope; and gaze at the stars and point out constellations, or they’ll run around chasing and catching fireflies in mason jars. There have been days where he’s come back from the office; and the boys are curled up with her on the couch binging on whatever is on Disney+ and eating popcorn. She’ll smile, wave or throw the peace sign up and say, “pop a squat!”, beckoning him to sit with them and join in on the movie and popcorn.

He knew she wasn’t their mother; but he knew she definitely had that maternal feeling and instinct. She protected them. She nurtured them. She loved them. And that’s what he loves most about her.

Yes. You read that correctly. Loves. No, not likes; loves. To Sam Dalton; she’s everything he could’ve ever wanted in a woman. There’s just one problem. And no, it’s not his arranged engagement to Sofia.

It’s the fact that; he’s fallen in love with her. His feelings for her; weren’t something he was ready to acknowledge yet; much less confront. They terrify him like nothing else. Not because of her. But because of his wife Samina.

The last time he felt this way; was when she was alive. He locked his heart and feelings like that away, after she died. He just knew that he’d never love that way again. Hell; he convinced himself that he would never open his heart to another woman; the way he did with Samina. He convinced himself that, he would never be as vulnerable with another woman; the way he was with his wife.

Which made being engaged to Sofia, slightly more bearable.

There was no love involved. It was all business and vanity. She’s really just a means to an end for him. Harsh as that sounds; that’s the core reason why he agreed to her marriage proposal. He didn’t have to love her to be married to her. He certainly didn’t have to have sex with her. And he was fine with that. He was fine with never loving another woman ever again.

Until he met Krystal Parker. And everything he convinced himself that he’d never do again; went out the damn window. Because the minute she walked into his office and especially his life; he changed.

So why would an engaged billionaire businessman; be in an hotel suite fucking his nanny’s brains out? Answer: pure selfishness. He’s thinking that; if he gave into his lust for her then, whatever feelings of love that he’s developed for her and whatever she feels for him, will just simply go away and they can get back to some semblance of a normal life.

But he’s about to find out; that it’s not that simple nor easy.

So there he was; in a bed with her feet to the ceiling and him going deep inside her. His Krystal. His kitten. She belonged to him. And he confirmed it with every thrust of his hips, into her. Hearing her moans drove him insane. Because that’s what he wanted. He wanted to please her. He wanted to feel her vaginal muscles clenched around his throbbing dick; as he slammed into her again and again. He wanted her nails digging into his back. He wanted her cries of pleasure. And he wanted revenge for her nearly ruining him.

“That’s it kitten! Take it! Take this dick!”, he growled in her ear.

Jesus Christ! He felt good! He was hitting her G-spot with EVERY stroke. He started out slow, which she silently hated but; once they both got comfortable, it was on. He was 10X better than either one of her exes. And that’s saying something.

“Yesssssssssss! Fuuuuccccckkk yesssssssssss! Fuck me! Give it to me! Give it to me!”, she shouted back. When it came to GOOD sex, Krystal was not shy about being vocal about it.

Hearing her scream like that; made him shudder. She wanted him and it. And he was going to make extra sure that; she got both. This was going to be the biggest night of passion they’d both ever had.

With his right hand on the headboard; he snaked his left into her hair and pulled back gently. Doing so, once again exposed her neck to him. He couldn’t keep his lips off her skin. He HAD TO taste her. And to be honest; she loved it even more than he did. He dragged his tongue across her neck; which caused the fire inside her to burn hotter. Every stroke made her dizzy yet; always left her craving more. She needed him. She wanted him. She craved him. He turned this poor girl out and didn’t even realize it.

He realized that he wouldn’t last long; well at least not in this position anyway. So; he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back, which pulled her into his lap. He wanted her to ride him. Because; why not? Before she knew it; she was straddling his lap with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

Her riding on top; was a dream come true for the both of them. For him; he had unlimited access to her nipples, which he felt that he’d been neglecting and it meant leaving more handprints on her ass. And for her; what woman doesn’t like to ride a man’s dick? Being able to bounce up and down on him; was a pleasure was more than anything she could’ve ever imagined.

Between feeling him crashing into her, his mouth all over her breasts and his hands full of her ass; she was in heaven as the heat between them continued to rise.

“God you feel so good!”, he hissed against her skin. He was drunk off her. Her smile. Her skin. Her scent. And she was so close. Her body was hot and every time he touched her; she shivered. Not to mention; her orgasm was about to break her in half.

“Sam! I’m so close!”, she told him in between shaky breaths.

“Good! That means I can do one more thing to you…Shit! Before I make you pass out!”, he responds. He wasn’t too far behind her in terms of being close.

He wanted their combined climax to be as hot as it was about to be epic. So, what does he do? Simple! He switches to one last position. The one he loved best: doggystyle!

Sam figured that if he was gonna go out; might as well go out with a bang! Besides; having her on all fours is what wet dreams are made of. And there she was, face down, ass up and desperate for him.

“I am going to thoroughly enjoy this!”, he whispers in her ear.

“You know you talk too much, right?”, she snapped back.

“Ooh…kitten likes being feisty, I see”, he says.

“No…kitten has a bite! And if you don’t hurry up…”, she hissed.

After leaving a small kiss on the back of her right shoulder, he lines himself up with her very hot entrance, he closes his eyes and dives in so to speak. With his left hand planted firmly between the crease of her hips and the right one holding her wrists behind her back; Sam was indeed about to thoroughly enjoy her.

“Fuck! Yesssssssssss…”, he hissed.

In order to really savor the moment; he went slow at first. Which she absolutely hated.

“Sam please don’t go slow!”, she begged. But, with her wrists restrained behind her back…there wasn’t much she could do to make him go faster. This was like a game to him. And he was going to play it his way.

“Now, now kitten! I told you, I am going to thoroughly enjoy this and I meant that! Now you’ll get what you want. I promise. You know that I would never leave you unsatisfied.”, he replies as he continued his slow stroke.

She cried out in both desperation and protest but eventually after him not doing what she wanted; she gave in. That’s when he knew he truly had her. He wanted her submission and now that he had it; he could give her what she wanted.

When she felt his speed start to increase; she let out a groan of contentment.

“Does my kitten like that? Does it feel good?”, he asked her.

“Yesssssssssss…”, she moaned.

“Good! Very good! I told you, you’d get what you want kitten.”, he said as he let her wrists go and anchored his hand to her shoulder, “now I think it’s time to end this, don’t you?”

“Sam…finish me please!”, she begged.

He could tell she was getting tired. Exactly what he wanted. You see, when it came to sex Sam loves mind games. But even he was getting tired.

“Your wish is my command, kitten”, he whispered in her ear.

As his speed continued to increase; Krystal was going crazy. Not only was he giving her the best fuck she’d ever had in her life but; he was continuously hitting her G-spot with precision. She wasn’t going to last much longer.

“There! Right there! Ohhh God! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”, she cried out.

“Yeah! That’s it! Keep saying that you want it kitten!”, he replied.

The sound of their bodies coming together; gave way to the richest form of pleasure that either one of them had ever had. Her shrieks soon turned into screams; once he started rotating his hips with each thrust in.

“Ohhh God yesssssssssss! Do it again! Do it again! Yes! Yes! Yes!”, she screamed.

That’s all he needed to hear her say; before he started to truly pound her. She was truly at his mercy. She was getting dangerously closer and closer to her edge but; couldn’t seem to go over it.

“That’s it kitten! Cum for me! Let it all out! Cum just for me!”, he whispered encouragingly in her ear.

That was it. That’s what did it for her.

“Oh God…I…I…Yes! I’m about to—“, was all she could say; before her body took over, she shuddered, stars burst in her eyes and her juices began flowing like a waterfall.

And that, was all she wrote for him as well.

“That’s it! Oh fuck I’m about to cum! It’s all for you kitten! Just for you!”, he said before he plunged deep inside her and let out a roar that was both primal and carnal.

He shivered while holding her in place as he emptied himself inside her. All she could hear was their combined ragged breathing. They were both sweaty, exhausted and completely satisfied. He laid with his back to hers and within minutes he was fast asleep.

What’s done was done. But she couldn’t pretend that; she wasn’t effected by that night she spent with him. This went way too far. And she was responsible for it. She couldn’t erase the memory of their night together. But; she does have to face a VERY HARD reality; at the end of the day: he’s still engaged to be married to someone else.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”, was the question her brain kept asking as she silently cried herself to sleep.

Because as much she tried to tell herself that she wouldn’t fall in love with one Sam Dalton…that’s exactly what happened.

She had fallen madly in love with him.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my humble rewrite of The Nanny Affair Chapter 12. And I sincerely hope; that it’s inspired you to get out there and write your story or stories! Stay tuned for other stories from yours truly!

@txemrn @choicesficwriterscreations

😘

#choices #choices fanfiction #choices tna #fanfic #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #sam dalton #choices stories you play #the nanny affair

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tracybirds · 4 years

Text

Venom Rewrite Part Three

Next part you will need to wait for because I am going to be out this evening :P But tomorrow is a public holiday so writing time *rubs hands together* Hope you enjoy!

Read previous parts: [1] | [2]

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They’d managed to transfer Virgil to the medbay forty-five minutes after the initial bite. Gordon had been hyper-aware of any movement on his skin, freezing several times as his brain imagined the prickle of spiders walking up and down his back, his arms, his legs. Even in the medbay, Gordon could feel them crawling over his skin and he shuddered. Gordon sat by his side, holding his hand and squeezing it every couple of minutes to check his brother’s responsiveness. His other arm was in sling, the initial bandage replaced with a broad pressure bandage that was hopefully slowing the spread of the poison.

“How’s he doing?” asked Furnier, who Gordon noticed had discarded his tinfoil blanket. Well, bully for him, he had higher priority patients now.

“He’s in a lot of pain,” he said, staring at determinedly at Virgil’s face. “His heart rate is still at 135 bpm and last I checked, his LogMAR vision acuity was at 0.80.”

His heart clenched as Virgil let out another gasping moan beside him.

“I’m still here, Virg,” he whispered, squeezing the hand again. He could feel the faint pressure of Virgil’s response and breathed slightly easier for it.

“That’s not good then?”

“Gotta be real honest, Doc, it’s not amazing.”

Furnier nodded, looking troubled. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” he said quietly. “After all you did for me too.”

“Hey, no,” said Gordon in a steady voice. He looked up at Furnier, who looked almost sick with anxiety. “We do this job eyes open, we know the risks. I know no matter what happens, Virgil would be so happy that you’re safe.”

Gordon always found it hard to talk to people about the reality of their job. He didn’t thrive on the danger and adrenaline like Scott did, couldn’t see every situation as a challenge like Virgil. People didn’t want to hear about the sadness, the terror, and the sacrifice that came with the life he had chosen, only the tales of courage and adventure escaping death with a laugh on his face. Gordon was struggling to tell those stories now, his own near-death experience too fresh in his mind and in his body to charm people as he used to. And now, even worse, he knew exactly what it felt on the other side, to watch a brother slowly slipping away, powerless to prevent his pain.

“Will he be alright?”

Gordon shrugged helplessly and bent down to clean the drool that was sliding past his brother’s chin. His eyes were screwed up tightly as he fought through another wave of pain.

“Where is it now, Virg?”

“Still my arm,” he gasped. “Feels kind of tight too.” Gordon could see the way his hand was swelling beneath the bandages and grimly added another check to the list of symptoms he had pulled up next to him.

“He’s still only presenting local symptoms, that’s one good thing. He’s heavy, that’s another,” he said, poking Virgil in the shoulder. He yelped as Virgil screwed up his face and his hand was suddenly caught in a vice grip. “Shut up Virg, you know it’s true.”

“Anyway,” he said, turning back to Furnier. “His mass is working in his favour. It would take more of the venom to kill him than it would any of the rest of us. If that thing had bitten me, I’d probably be dead already.”

“We need the antivenom then?”

“The antivenom will take care of the symptoms in a much shorter time than his body can. It can bind with the venom, stop it from messing with his cells and putting his body so much stress that it can’t repair itself. We need that antivenom all right.”

“She’ll get there right?”

“Course she will,” said Gordon softly, blinking back tears as he looked over at the screen showing Kayo’s position. “And anyway, she’s not alone.” A new signal had popped up, hovering above the Dragonfly, a signal that brought a wistful smile to Gordon’s face. Although he was grateful Kayo had help in her task, he just wanted his big brother to be here.

***

Kayo heard Scott before she saw him and chewed on her lip as she looked up anxiously at the sky. Gordon had given her a heads up that Scott was on his way, and she wasn’t surprised that he had decided to help her instead of rushing to Virgil’s side. It was the same reason that she had volunteered to leave the group, the desperate need to do something, anything, of significance to help the situation at hand. Scott needed to help, was driven into action by the fear of tragedy. He wouldn’t bear to face his brothers with no solution to their cry for help. And so Scott was here.

She unlocked the exterior doors to the Dragonfly and Scott flew inside. She didn’t go back to meet him, not wanting to see where Virgil had lain, arm muscles beginning to spasm and sweat pouring down his face as the venom worked its way through his system, attacking his nerve endings. More terrifying was the way he had hardly uttered a sound, holding in his cries as best he could in an effort to spare her and Gordon the worry. It hadn’t worked.

“Good to see you Scott,” she said when he entered the cockpit, laying his jetpack to one side.

“How is he?”

Kayo shook her head. “We have to move fast.”

“Is there any chance he’ll make it without the antivenom?”

Kayo hesitated. Scott’s voice was small, but more than that he looked small too. She had never known Scott as a child before, but suddenly she could picture the way he must had approached his Dad, his Mom even, to ask them about the scary monsters in the world. She wondered if that had been where he’d first learnt to fight them.

“It’s bad enough that he needs the antivenom,” she said eventually. “That already makes this a medical emergency. But even without it, there’d be a small chance. The problem is we don’t know how much venom was injected into his bloodstream. And we don’t know how his body will react in the long run.” She turned back to hunting for the little red drone Dr Furnier had described to her. “We’ll find it.”

They were both silent as they combed the rainforest, edging closer and closer to the last known coordinates.

“Well, spiders might top my ‘Least Favourite Bugs’ list now,” said Kayo, with a half-smile.

“Yeah, mine too,” said Scott fervently. “Wait, what was on top before?”

“I’ll never tell,” said Kayo with a shudder.

“Seriously?” said Scott, looking at her frankly. “You’re really scared by bugs?”

“Not scared just… creeped out. And it’s not all of them.”

“Kayo I’ve seen you jump out of aeroplanes and take down someone built like a freight train running straight towards you like it was nothing.”

“Virgil’s ticklish, that doesn’t count.”

At the mention of Virgil’s name, Scott fell silent and she cursed herself internally.

“He’ll be okay Scott,” she said quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t know that, what if he’s not?” he said desperately. Kayo glanced over and at the sight of his glistening eyes, bit back her immediate reply.

“What if…” he said softly. “What if after everything, we get Dad back and I have to tell him that Virgil was…. That he…”

Scott straightened in his chair, the tears in his eyes turning to ice. “I’m responsible for all of them, Kayo. I have to be the one to look Dad in the eye and tell him I kept them safe. No matter the cost.”

Kayo said nothing, only checked the coordinates displayed on the map between them.

“This is it,” she said. “It should be around here.”

Scott made no reply, striding from the cockpit without a backwards glance.

[Read Part 4]

#virgil tracy #gordon tracy #kayo kyrano #scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #sometimes i fic

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riverboundao3ff · 4 years

Text

Riverbound, Chapter 1

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.