#and she pointed out what she took to be a mistake but i had to explain that no we just use that word differently. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 1 day ago

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FOGGY MEMORIES PT 2 | MV1

an: hello party people we're back with the long awaited pt 2, sorry it took this long and hopefully the next part won't take this long. i just have so many ideas and so little time atm :(

wc: 5.7k

part one

GETTING OUT WAS IMPOSSIBLE

Or at least, it should have been.

Max had spent years operating under the agency’s iron grip, slipping between missions like a ghost, but never disappearing on his own terms. That wasn’t how it worked.

Agents didn’t leave. Not without clearance. Not without orders.

And yet, as the clock edged closer to seventeen hundred, Max knew, he had to go.

The piece of paper burned against his skin, tucked safely beneath his tactical vest, its weight heavier than it should have been.

This was reckless. Dangerous.

But he had no choice.

Slipping past security required precision.

He timed it perfectly.

The changing of the watch. The overlap in shift rotations. A blind spot in the cameras he’d memorised long ago, not because he’d ever planned on escaping, but because he didn’t like being watched either.

He moved like he was meant to be there, weaving through corridors, head down, posture relaxed. He passed two guards, neither gave him a second glance.

Then he was at the outer gates.

The clearance terminal glowed softly in the dim light, waiting for authentication.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a keycard he wasn’t supposed to have, and swiped it.

A second’s hesitation.

Then—

Access granted.

The gate slid open just enough for him to slip through.

And then he was gone.

By the time he reached the city, his pulse had settled into something even, but his mind hadn’t.

Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to cut his losses, to forget this before he made a mistake he couldn’t undo.

But then he thought of her.

The way she had looked at him, the way she had said "You already know."

The way she had known things he didn’t.

And he kept walking.

Towards the address.

Towards the answers.

The address led him to an old, disused train yard on the outskirts of the city. Rusted tracks stretched out beneath the dim evening light, the air thick with the scent of damp metal and oil. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Max kept his movements careful, scanning his surroundings as he approached the meeting point. A warehouse, half-collapsed, its walls lined with shattered windows and creeping vines.

He didn’t go inside. Instead, he stopped just short of the entrance, leaning back against a rusted container, arms folded, waiting.

He wasn’t stupid. She would come when she was ready.

And she did.

The blade pressed against his throat before he even heard her move.

Max exhaled through his nose, not tensing, not resisting. "You really need to stop greeting me like this."

A small, almost amused hum came from behind him. "I’ll consider it."

The knife lingered a second longer, then it was gone.

He turned just in time to see her step back, watching him with the same unreadable gaze as before.

She was different in the light. Still sharp, still composed, but softer around the edges, less shadow, more real.

But that didn’t mean she trusted him.

"Strip."

Max blinked. "What?"

She crossed her arms. "Take it off."

"Excuse me?"

She arched a brow, unimpressed. "Your gear. Your shirt. I need to be sure you’re not wired."

Max clenched his jaw. "You think I’m working for Christian?"

"I think Christian would have noticed you sneaking out. And if he did, he’d send you here for answers under his terms, not yours."

He didn’t argue. Because she was right.

But that didn’t mean he liked it.

Still, he sighed, rolling his shoulders before reluctantly pulling off his tactical vest, unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off.

When he reached for the hem of his shirt, he hesitated, just a second.

Her eyes didn’t waver.

Christ.

Scowling, he pulled it over his head, letting the cold air bite against his skin.

She stepped closer.

Max forced himself to stay still as her fingers brushed lightly over his ribs, over his collarbone, checking for any hidden wires or devices. It was methodical. Clinical.

But his skin still burned where she touched.

She must have felt the way his pulse jumped slightly beneath her fingertips, because her eyes flicked up to his. Amusement, maybe. Or curiosity.

Then she stepped back, satisfied.

"Alright," she said simply.

Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair before pulling his shirt back on, shaking his head. "If you wanted me undressed, you could have just asked."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "Don’t push it."

He smirked, just a little. Then it faded.

Because now there was nothing left in the way.

No excuses. No distractions.

Just the questions burning in his skull.

He met her gaze.

"Who are you?"

She didn’t answer straight away.

Instead, she stepped closer, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his.

Max held his ground, but something in his chest tightened, his breath coming shallower as the space between them disappeared.

Then—

Her hand came up, fingers light as they brushed against his cheek, a gentle caress that sent something sharp and electric tearing through him.

He froze.

"You look just as you did before," she murmured, her thumb tracing lightly along his cheekbone.

And then—

Pain.

A sudden, brutal onslaught of memories, crashing into him like a freight train, fracturing something deep in his skull.

Not the sterile, clinical flashes he’d had before.

These were different.

More intimate. More real.

A quiet moment in dim candlelight, their bodies exhausted from training, her fingers in his hair, a whispered joke between them, his own laughter soft and unfamiliar.

The feel of her back pressed against his, both of them moving in perfect unison, breathless and exhilarated after taking down their targets in perfect synchronisation.

The way she had once looked at him, not as an opponent, not as a stranger, but as something else entirely.

And then—

A promise.

One neither of them had kept.

Max gasped, staggering back a step, his breath ragged, his hands coming up to clutch his head as if that could stop it.

The memories flickered, blurred at the edges, slipping through his fingers like water. He couldn’t shape them exactly, couldn’t hold onto them before they disappeared into the void again.

But they were there.

And so was she.

Watching him.

Waiting.

Max swallowed, his voice hoarse when he finally managed to speak.

"What did they do to us?"

Her expression softened, just for a moment. Then she exhaled, shaking her head.

"What did they do to you, my love?"

Max’s stomach lurched.

The words were a gut punch, sending another ripple of wrongness through his already fractured mind. He knew that phrase. Knew the warmth in her voice, the weight of it, the way it curled around him like something familiar.

But it didn’t belong to this life.

It didn’t belong to him.

Did it?

He shook his head, throat tight. "Stop. Just, stop playing with me and tell me the truth."

She inhaled slowly, watching him carefully, then—

"You were born in the Netherlands, Max. That’s where we were raised. In an orphanage."

The world tilted slightly. His pulse roared in his ears.

"You’re lying."

She didn’t even flinch. "I was four when I got there. You were already there when I arrived, you were three. You used to follow me around, always getting into trouble, always dragging me into it. But you never let anyone hurt me. Not even the caretakers."

His breath came shorter now, fingers twitching at his sides. "No."

"Growing up, that turned into something else. A promise. That whatever happened, we’d stick together."

Flashes hit him again.

A tiny hand gripping his wrist. A voice, young and defiant, telling him to run.

"You’re lying," he whispered, but even he didn’t believe it now.

"You taught me how to fight before we even knew what a real fight was," she continued, voice steady. "We trained together. Always together. And then they took you, at 15."

Max’s jaw clenched so tight it ached. "Who?"

Her eyes darkened. "Them."

Something curdled in his stomach.

Then—

"The Netherlands?" His voice cracked slightly around the word. It felt foreign in his mouth, unfamiliar. He should remember it. If it were true, if any of this were true, then it should mean something.

But it was blank.

Erased.

She nodded. "It’s where you’re from."

His hands curled into fists. "Then why don’t I remember it?"

A ghost of a smile, sad, knowing. "Because they made you forget. And Christian—" She hesitated, just for a second. Then she met his eyes again, unwavering. "Christian never taught you Dutch or German, did he?"

Max stilled.

She tilted her head slightly. "You knew them already. But he taught you the useful languages instead, didn’t he?"

The floor beneath him might as well have cracked in two.

Because she was right.

Christian had taught him French. Spanish. Mandarin. Arabic.

All useful. All efficient.

But never Dutch. Never German. Never anything personal.

Max swallowed hard, his heart thudding against his ribs. "Who the hell am I?"

She stepped closer again, slow and deliberate, and for some reason, Max let her.

Her hand came up, gentler this time, fingertips just ghosting the side of his face. He didn’t pull away.

"You’re my Max," she said softly.

His chest tightened painfully.

He didn’t know what to do with that.

Didn’t know how to be that.

His. Hers.

Not Christian’s. Not the agency’s.

Just hers.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

His voice came hoarse. "How did you find me?"

Her expression flickered, something raw and weary crossing her features. "I’ve been searching for you ever since they took you."

Max swallowed, his throat dry. "Since I was fifteen?"

She nodded.

His mind whirred, working the numbers. "Fourteen years ago."

A long, exhausted exhale. Then—

"I got recruited by Austrian Intelligence."

His brows pulled together, confusion flashing across his face. "What?"

"They always knew my ulterior motive," she continued. "I was never just theirs. I worked for them, trained under them, but I never stopped looking for you."

Max stared at her, disoriented, the pieces still loose in his mind, still fighting against the block that had been drilled into him.

But one thing was clear.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

This wasn’t just another mission.

This was his life. His real life.

And she was the only person who knew the truth.

Max let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, fingers gripping the strands as if he could somehow ground himself.

"You’re telling me," he said slowly, forcing the words out, "that while I was being trained to be a weapon, while I was following their orders, you were out there, looking for me?"

Her eyes softened, something achingly familiar in them. "Every second."

His throat tightened. He wasn’t sure why, but the weight of it, of her, was pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe.

She had spent fourteen years searching.

And he had spent fourteen years forgetting.

His fists clenched. "Why me?"

A ghost of a smile, small, barely there. "You know why."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he didn’t know anything, that this entire thing was impossible.

But the memories were clawing at him again.

Flashes of laughter in the dark. The feel of small fingers intertwined with his own. A whispered promise, spoken with the kind of certainty only they could have had.

A promise to never leave each other behind.

His stomach turned violently. "I don’t— I don’t know what to do with this."

She stepped closer, her presence steady, unwavering. "Yes, you do."

Max swallowed hard, pulse hammering. "So what next?"

She held his gaze.

And then—

"We run."

Max stared at her, his pulse thundering in his ears. "Run?"

She nodded, eyes sharp. "They’ll never let you go, Max. You know that, don’t you?"

He did.

Even before this, before her, he’d always known, deep down, that there was no retirement from this life. No clean exit. The agency didn’t train operatives just to let them walk away.

And yet, hearing it now, in this context, sent a cold dread curling in his stomach.

He swallowed hard. "Tell me everything."

She took a breath. "You were taken when you were fifteen. We always knew something was off at the orphanage, the people who came in and out, the way they watched us, the tests they made us do. But we were kids, we didn’t understand."

Max’s jaw tightened. Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, something scratched at the surface. The distant echo of fluorescent lights. A man’s voice, clinical, detached. "He’s showing promise. We’ll take this one."

She continued. "When they took you, I fought. I tried to stop them. But I was just a sixteen year old girl, Max. They took you, and I couldn’t do anything."

His chest ached.

Sixteen. Alone. And she’d had no idea where he’d gone.

He clenched his fists. "And then?"

"I spent years looking. When I turned eighteen, Austrian Intelligence found me. I knew what they were when they approached, I knew what they wanted. But I didn’t care. I let them train me. I played their game. Because I knew it would get me closer to you."

Max exhaled slowly, trying to process it.

She had spent years searching, training, infiltrating, just to find him.

And all that time, he had been under Christian’s wing. Being shaped into the agency’s perfect operative. Forgetting.

He ran a hand down his face. "Fourteen years."

She nodded.

And for a moment, they just stood there. The weight of everything between them pressing down like a vice.

Then—

A slow, mocking clap.

Max’s blood ran cold.

The sound was deliberate, echoing through the abandoned train yard. Casual. Amused.

And then—

"Such a cute, bittersweet reunion."

Max turned sharply, already knowing who it was before his eyes landed on him.

Christian.

Standing a few metres away, gun in hand, aimed directly at her.

Christian sighed, shaking his head with the kind of disappointment a father might have for a reckless son. "Max," he said, almost pitying. "You should have known better."

Max didn’t move. His whole body was coiled tight, his mind screaming at him to think, to act, to do something. But Christian’s gun was still pointed at her, and that was enough to keep him rooted to the spot.

She was still. Calm. But Max could see the sharp calculation in her eyes. She was measuring the distance, considering her odds.

Christian smiled slightly, as if he knew. "I’ve got to say, I’m impressed. I knew there were gaps in the wipe, I’ve always known. But I didn’t think you’d really go looking for them. And I certainly didn’t think she’d be foolish enough to hand them back to you."

Max clenched his fists. "Why?" His voice was low, tight. "Why take me?"

Christian exhaled, almost looking bored. "Come on, Max. You were always meant for more than that orphanage. You were built for this life. You proved that the moment we took you in."

The words sent a cold shiver down Max’s spine. "Took me in," he echoed bitterly.

"Yes. Took you in. Made you. And look how well you turned out." Christian shifted slightly, tilting his head. "It’s a pity, really. If I’d known back then how attached you two were, if I’d known she’d spend fourteen whole years chasing you, I might’ve taken both of you."

Max’s breath caught in his throat.

Next to him, she stiffened ever so slightly, her jaw tightening.

Christian smirked. "Would’ve saved us all this trouble. But alas—"

His grip on the gun shifted slightly.

"Not that it matters. You’ll be coming back one way or another."

Max forced himself to stay still, his mind working frantically. "And if I don’t?"

Christian’s smirk widened. "You will." He tapped his temple. "You think we’d really let one of our most valuable operatives walk around without a failsafe?"

Max’s stomach twisted.

No.

No, he would’ve known. Wouldn’t he?

Christian hummed. "We know exactly where you are at all times, Max. And when we need you to stop thinking so hard—" His smirk sharpened. "Well. We have ways of dealing with that too."

Max felt sick.

There was a tracker in him.

A leash he hadn’t even known about.

He took a step back, his heart hammering. "What did you—"

A sharp hiss.

Christian’s words cut off, mid-sentence, mid-smirk, as a tranquilliser dart buried itself in his neck.

His eyes widened, shock flashing across his face. He stumbled slightly, swaying as his body locked up, his limbs turning sluggish.

Max barely had time to react before he hit the ground.

She exhaled sharply, muttering under her breath, "For fuck’s sake, Charles."

Max barely had time to register the name before she tilted her head back, looking up. Instinctively, he followed her gaze.

Perched on the rusting steel beams above them, a figure crouched with all the ease of someone who belonged in places they shouldn’t be. Brunette, lean but athletic, eyes glinting with amusement. He twirled a tranquilliser gun between his fingers, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I didn’t need saving," she called up.

"Yeah, you did," he called back, grinning, a french accent in his voice.

Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he jumped.

Max tensed, fully expecting him to plummet to his death, but instead, the man twisted mid-air, landing gracefully in a crouch, like a damn cat.

He straightened, dusting himself off, before flashing a reckless, lopsided grin. "You’re welcome, by the way."

Max just stared. "Who the hell—"

The man extended a hand, all confidence. "Charles. Pleasure to finally meet you, mate."

Max didn’t shake it. "Right. And who exactly are you?"

Charles didn’t look remotely put off. If anything, he seemed delighted. He turned to her, jerking a thumb at Max. "He always this grumpy, or is it just me?"

She sighed. "Charles."

"What?" He grinned. "I’ve heard so much about this one, you can’t blame me for being a bit excited."

Max’s brows furrowed. "Heard?"

Charles smirked. "The Italians and Austrians are allies. We work together. And let me tell you, mate—" He clapped Max on the shoulder, far too familiar. "She talks about you all the time."

Max glanced at her. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "Charles."

Charles just waggled his eyebrows. "You’re welcome for the save, by the way. Again."

Charles rocked back on his heels, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just tranquillised a high-ranking operative. "By the way," he said casually, inspecting his nails, "I ran out of horse tranquilliser, so he’ll be up and awake in less than an hour. We should probably get going before he starts shooting."

Max scowled, rubbing a hand down his face. "You use horse tranquilliser?"

Charles shrugged. "What can I say? Some people can take it."

Max opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Charles reached for his hand.

Max instinctively snatched it back. "What the fuck are you—"

Charles grabbed it again, this time tighter, and dug his thumb into his wrist, pressing down with precise, practised pressure.

Max tensed. "Oi—"

Charles smirked as he felt what he was looking for. "Ah," he drawled. "There’s the beauty."

Max’s stomach twisted. "What?"

Charles lifted his gaze, grinning. "Tracker. It’s in your wrist. Probably buried deep, but it’s there."

Max yanked his hand back, skin crawling at the implication. He clenched his jaw. "And you knew that how?"

Charles waggled his eyebrows. "Because I’m good at my job, sweetheart."

She groaned. "Charles."

He flashed her an easy grin. "What? That really was a heartwarming reunion. I almost shed a tear."

She shot him a glare. "I will shoot you."

"Wouldn’t be the first time," he quipped, then clapped his hands together. "Alright, lovebirds. Let’s move before Sleeping Beauty over there wakes up and starts ruining our evening."

They moved fast.

Max had been on the run before, had been on missions where staying ahead of the enemy was the only thing that mattered, but this was different. This time, he wasn’t just running. He was defecting.

Charles led the way, navigating the dark streets with an ease that suggested he’d done this a hundred times before. She was close behind him, her movements sharp and deliberate, scanning their surroundings constantly. Max stayed quiet, processing, recalibrating.

The tracker.

It was still inside him.

They needed to get it out, fast.

After a long, tense journey, they reached a nondescript building tucked away in the backstreets of the city. Max barely had time to catch his breath before Charles was shoving open a heavy steel door, leading them down a set of stairs into what looked like an underground medical facility.

Inside, a man was bent over a cluttered desk, rifling through medical equipment. He was older, mid-forties, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Freddie!" Charles called, grinning.

The man didn’t even look up. "I told you," he said flatly, "that is not my name."

"Dr Frederick," she corrected, shooting Charles a glare.

Charles waved a hand dismissively. "Details."

Dr Frederick finally glanced up, his gaze flicking between them. "What do you want?"

Charles clapped a hand on Max’s shoulder. "This one’s got a little problem with his wrist. Thought you might be able to help."

Dr Frederick adjusted his glasses. "No."

Charles groaned dramatically. "Freddie, please."

"It is not my name."

"But you’re so good at this stuff."

Dr Frederick gave him a deadpan look. "No."

Charles sighed, turning to Max. "See, this is the problem with the French. So much passion, so little willingness to help an old friend."

"Charles," Dr Frederick warned.

"Freddie," Charles countered, grinning. "Look, all I’m asking for is a little favour. A tiny bit of surgery. A minuscule extraction. Barely worth mentioning, really."

Dr Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are insufferable."

"And yet," Charles said smugly, "you love me anyway."

Dr Frederick exhaled heavily, muttering something under his breath in Italian. Then, after a long pause, he finally said, "Fine. Sit."

Charles grinned victoriously. "I knew you couldn’t resist me."

Dr Frederick ignored him, turning to Max instead. "Give me your wrist."

Max sat stiffly on the medical table, jaw clenched as Dr Frederick adjusted the surgical instruments. The small underground clinic smelled of antiseptic and old paper, and the hum of a fluorescent light buzzed somewhere overhead.

"This will hurt," Frederick said bluntly, not offering any unnecessary comfort.

"Great," Max muttered. "Looking forward to it."

Frederick didn’t acknowledge the sarcasm. Instead, he snapped on a pair of gloves and took Max’s wrist, pressing two fingers along the underside until he found what he was looking for.

"It’s deep," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Not standard placement. They didn’t want you finding it by accident."

Charles leaned against a counter, arms crossed, grinning like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week. "Must feel great knowing you’ve been microchipped like a lost pet."

"Shut up, Charles," she and Max said at the same time.

Charles just smirked.

Frederick ignored them all, pressing a needle into Max’s skin. "Local anaesthetic," he said shortly. "I would offer general, but I assume you don’t have the time for that luxury."

Max barely had time to respond before the numbness spread, dulling the pain as Frederick made a precise incision.

He worked quickly, hands steady, eyes sharp behind his glasses. Max had been trained to handle pain, but even with the numbing agent, he felt the pressure, the unnatural tugging under his skin. He clenched his jaw, watching as Frederick extracted a small, black fragment of metal no bigger than a grain of rice.

The tracker.

It sat in the doctor’s palm, glinting under the sterile light.

"There it is," Frederick said, unimpressed.

"Well, that’s underwhelming," Charles remarked.

Frederick shot him a look. "Take it. Do whatever you want with it. Just get it away from here."

Charles took the chip between two fingers, inspecting it. "Oh, I’ve got ideas." He winked at her, then shoved the chip into his pocket and stretched. "Right, I’ll go drop this somewhere suitably inconvenient. Try not to get yourselves killed while I’m gone."

Max rolled his eyes. "Get out, Charles."

"Miss me already?" Charles grinned, then slipped out the door before anyone could respond.

The second he was gone, the tension shifted.

Frederick turned to Max, inspecting his stitched-up wrist. "It will hold, but don’t be reckless."

Max flexed his fingers, testing it. "No promises."

She sighed, then looked at Max. "We need a plan."

He nodded, already thinking. "Christian knows I’m gone. Even without the tracker, he’ll assume I’ve gone rogue. We don’t have long before they start closing in."

She folded her arms. "Then we hit first. Before they’re ready."

Max met her gaze, feeling the weight of everything between them, the past, the present, the war they were about to start.

"Alright," he said. "Let’s do it."

Without another thought she leaned over the makeshift surgical table and grabbed a map.

They spread out the battered old map across the metal table in Frederick’s back room, the edges curling with damp and age. She pointed to a marked facility near the Alps, tapping her finger twice on the paper.

“This is where the data Christian’s been collecting ends up. Not at HQ. Not at any of the supposed satellite sites. Here. Quiet. Off-grid. Guarded like hell.”

Max leaned over, brow furrowed. “And what’s there? Storage?”

She shook her head. “No. Processing. They’re not just collecting information, they’re rewriting it. It’s how they do the memory wipes.”

Max’s stomach twisted. “So that’s where they took me.”

She nodded once. “And every other little kid that was like us.”

Frederick hovered behind them, arms crossed, reluctant but clearly invested now. “It’s not a place you walk out of. You realise that, yes?”

Max didn’t look away from the map. “We’re not planning to walk. We’re planning to burn it down.”

She gave a small, humourless smile. “That’s the spirit.”

Frederick huffed. “You're both mad. And doomed.”

Max looked up at him. “Probably. But if they’re rewriting people, weaponising kids and erasing their lives, then someone’s got to stop it.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. Then she reached into her jacket, pulled out a small flash drive, and slid it across the table.

“I’ve been gathering fragments of what I could. Locations. Transit logs. Staff names. It’s all encrypted, but someone like you,” she nodded at Frederick “can help us crack it.”

He looked at the drive like it was radioactive. “You just want to drag me deeper in, don’t you?”

“You’re already in,” Max said quietly. “You helped remove the chip. There’s no going back.”

Frederick groaned under his breath, rubbing his temples. “I hate all of you.”

She smirked. “That’s fair.”

Max stood, rolling his shoulders. “Right then. We need supplies. Weapons. A route in.”

“I know a guy,” she said. “He’s German. Paranoid as hell, but he owes me a favour. We’ll need to go through the mountains to find him.”

“And me?” Frederick said, still frowning.

“You stay here,” Max replied. “Crack the drive. Send us everything you find.”

Frederick muttered something that sounded suspiciously like bloody lunatics and how mac wasn’t his boss, but nodded all the same.

She folded the map, tucked it into her coat, then looked up at Max.

“You ready?”

He looked down at the fresh bandage on his wrist, then back at her, at the woman who had somehow ripped open the cracks in everything he thought he knew.

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s finish what they started.”

The mountains loomed ahead, jagged against a sky bruised with early morning clouds. Their boots crunched over frostbitten ground as they trudged through narrow, twisting paths. Max hadn’t realised how much he’d come to rely on tech, drones, trackers, satellite feeds. Now, they were ghosts slipping through silence, guided only by memory and instinct.

She walked just ahead of him, wrapped in layers, her face half-shielded by a scarf. Even like this, she moved like she belonged to the shadows, alert, deliberate, never wasting a step.

“Remind me again,” Max said, breathing into his gloves, “why your paranoid German friend lives halfway up a mountain with no phone reception?”

“Because,” she said without turning, “he likes goats and hates people. You two might get on.”

They reached a stone cabin just as the sun broke weakly over the ridge. Smoke curled from the chimney, someone was home. She knocked once, then again in a strange rhythm. A pause. Then a scraping of metal bolts and the door opened a crack.

A rifle appeared before the face did.

She didn’t even flinch. “Nice to see you too, Nico.”

The barrel lowered slightly. “Thought you were dead.”

“Not yet. This is Max.”

Nico eyed him with a look that said don’t get comfortable. “British?”

“Sort of,” Max muttered.

With a grumble, Nico stepped aside. “Come in before the cold does worse than Christian ever could.”

Inside, the place was cluttered and warm, thick with the scent of woodsmoke and engine oil. Max kept his hands visible, noting the various weapons strewn across shelves and walls.

She got straight to it. “We need gear. Access tech. C4, comms, entry tools. Enough to storm a ghost facility buried in concrete and bad memories.”

Nico raised a brow. “And why, may I ask, would I ever help with that?”

“Because you owe me,” she said simply. “Prague. Eight years ago. You’d be dead if I hadn’t taken that bullet.”

He stared at her for a long time. Then muttered, “I strongly dislike you.”

She smiled. “Still not my problem.”

It took them three days to plan. Nico was paranoid, but meticulous. He handed Max blueprints, schematics, equipment lists. They worked late into the night, checking routes, escape plans, failsafes.

And on the second night, when Nico had gone to sleep, it was just her and Max sat near the fire, the weight of everything suspended for a while.

“You alright?” she asked softly, watching the flames flicker across his face.

He nodded, slowly. “Yeah. Just… this is a lot to process. You, all of this. I don’t know who I am without them, and I hate that.”

She reached out, fingers brushing his hand. “You’re still you. The part they couldn’t reach. The part that found its way back to me.”

He looked at her then, really looked. The flames danced in her eyes, but it was the honesty there that undid him. Something shifted in his chest, cracked open.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. “I think I’ve always known you.”

Her breath caught. Then she leaned in, slow, deliberate, giving him the chance to stop it.

He didn’t.

Their lips met gently at first, uncertain, like rediscovering something precious. Then it deepened, years of lost time catching fire between them. Her hands tangled in his jacket, his fingers at the nape of her neck. The kiss was quiet, but it said everything — I missed you. I remember. I’m yours.

When they pulled apart, her forehead rested against his.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,” she whispered, “we face it together.”

He nodded, his voice thick. “Together.”

The facility sat like a scar carved into the mountain, brutalist and grey, half-swallowed by snow and rock. From the ridge above, they watched the rotation of the patrols, three-man units, every eight minutes, armed to the teeth.

Max adjusted his earpiece, one of Nico’s designs, untraceable, short-range.

“Everyone in position?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Charles’ voice crackled in his ear. “Nico’s already moaning about the cold. Might shoot him just for warmth.”

“Piss off,” came Nico’s accented reply. “I’ve been up since four planting explosives. You want a warm seat, you can sit on the detonator.”

Max smirked faintly, but his focus didn’t waver. He turned to her, crouched beside him, dressed in black from head to boot, rifle resting against her shoulder.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

She didn’t hesitate. “This is what we came for.”

Max leaned in, brushing his fingers against hers. “Just… don’t get yourself killed.”

She met his gaze, soft and fierce all at once. “You either.”

Then, too quick to overthink, he kissed her. It was rougher this time, urgent and breathless, the kind of kiss you give someone when you don’t know what the next hour holds. She clutched the front of his jacket, grounding herself in him, like for a moment the mission didn’t matter. Just them. Just this.

When they broke apart, she was already moving. “Let’s finish it.”

Chaos erupted within minutes of infiltration. Charles cut the lights with a grin in his voice, “Happy blackout, boys”, and the entire west wing went dark. Nico triggered the first explosion on a far wall, drawing the guards out like moths to a flame.

She and Max moved fast, ghosting through corridors, silent and lethal. Data cores, servers, security feeds, they planted charges on every last one.

In the heart of it all, Max found the processing room. The machines still buzzed, humming with stolen memories, rows of them, patient files, fragments of lives rewritten and buried. His own name flickered across a screen. Deleted. Rewritten. A lie.

He slammed the drive in. Copied what he could. Burned the rest.

Then he heard her.

A muffled shout through his earpiece. Gunfire.

Max’s blood ran cold.

He took off running, boots slamming down corridors slick with smoke and debris. Around the corner, through the shattered doorway, he found her, pinned by a soldier twice her size, blade at her side, one arm limp and bleeding.

She looked up, and for a moment, even in pain, she smiled. “Took you long enough.”

Max lunged. Took the bastard down with brutal efficiency, two hits and he didn’t get back up. Then he dropped to her side, hands already reaching for her.

“You’re hurt.”

She winced. “Just the arm. Got cocky.”

“You’re not allowed to die. Not after everything.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Then came the sound, heavy boots, radio chatter. Reinforcements.

Max’s breath caught. “They’re coming.”

She reached up, bloody fingers curling into his jacket. “Listen to me—”

A shadow moved behind the glass.

Gunfire cracked.

Blood splattered.

Her body jolted, eyes wide, and everything blurred.

Max caught her before she hit the ground.

“No—”

Then on the other side through of his earpiece he heard Charles, “Max, they’ve got me— Fuck” Charles’ voice crackled through the comms, ending in a sharp grunt.

The room was red.

And then—

Static.

End of comms.

PART THREE...

taglist: @angelluv16 @evalynkillgrave @fergalaxy @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @amyelevenn

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 day ago

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As I Whisper in Your Ear, “I Wanna Fuckin’ Tear You Apart”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (at some point)

Summary: Just smut. Minimal plot. A hint of longing.

Warnings: Poorly written smut; dom/sub dynamics (both); choking (but not really - just don’t wanna trigger anyone)

You had learned the workings of Daryl’s mind long ago when your tryst had begun. You knew his boundaries, his desires.

And he knew yours.

Sliding his vest over his shoulders, you unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes on your hands as your fingers deftly worked. When he was bare from the waist up, you tapped the top of his boot with your bare toes. “Take them off.” You ordered whilst pulling your own shirt over your head.

Waiting for him to toss the boots aside, you pressed your chest against his, reveling in the feeling of his hot skin. His expression was unreadable as he bent forward to press his lips to yours. It was almost gentle, dangerously close to romantic.

Fuck that. Not today.

Today, you wanted rough and primal.

You gave him a shove and his back collided with the wall, inciting a grunt. Daryl straightened and opened his mouth, but you quickly countered, capturing his lips while raising a knee to grind against his groin. If it hurt, he didn’t say so. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth when you pulled away—just slightly—enough to fit a hand between the two of you.

His stomach muscles twitched as your fingers brushed over the skin and dipped into the waistline of his jeans. Daryl hissed when you took him in hand, gliding your soft palm over his heated skin once, twice. His hands glided up your sides and moved inward toward your chest, but you used your free hand to swat him away. “Behind your head.” You ordered, darting forward to take his left nipple between your teeth.

You continued to stroke him while soothing the pain from your bite with your tongue, trailing soft kisses up his collarbone, his neck, before coming to a stop by his ear. His hesitation was noticeable but eventually, he obeyed and interlocked his fingers behind his head. You stifled a chuckle when he grunted and closed his eyes in obvious restraint. “You know you like it when I tease you.” You emphasized by tightening your grip, delighting in the arch of his back and the breathy moan in your ear.

“Whatever ya say.” Daryl groaned when your tongue slid across his earlobe. There was a noise of protest when you released him and stepped back, tilting your head to admire the sight in front of you. The rugged survivor—the man who would jack a jaw at the slightest provocation and gut a walker with his bare hands—bare-chested with his hands behind his head. Sweat was glistening on his skin and you could see his desire for you straining against the dark denim of his jeans. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened with need and were watching your every movement.

“You’re beautiful.” You purred, reaching out so your fingertips could appreciate the twitching muscles of his abdomen. “Tell me what you want.” You pressed yourself against him again, pushing your thumbs into the waist of his jeans at each hip. You licked your lips and watched his trademark scowl capture his features. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against yours without claiming them.

“On your knees.”

You granted his request, dragging the last of his clothing down with you. He stepped out of the garments and kicked them to the side, looking down at you with renewed enthusiasm. You locked gazes with him as you took him into your mouth, an unbidden shiver wracking his frame. It was an instant reaction to bring his hand to your hair, twisting his fingers into your locks. He didn’t realize his mistake until your teeth grazed his sensitive skin. You pulled back and admonished him with a disappointed glare, shaking your head. “I didn’t say you could move your hands.”

You grinned smugly, moving painfully slowly into continuing your ministrations, enjoying looking up at Daryl’s frustrated expression. It was your guilty pleasure to dominate the gruff archer, watching him come apart at something as simple as your touch. It was absolutely maddening to hold that much power over a man like Daryl Dixon.

With a hum, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his length and squeezed, your lips engulfing him once more. There was a loud thud above you as your mouth chased your hand, and you looked up to find that he had slammed the back of his head against the wall. He had likely reached for you again but pulled back. When he growled through clenched teeth, you felt a surge of heat at the joining of your thighs. Sliding your mouth off, you flicked the tip with your tongue before standing.

“Daryl.” You pressed your lips to the front of his throat, smiling against his adam’s apple when he tilted his head, his hands remaining where you had ordered them. “Do you wanna touch me now?” He was still, looking down his nose at you.

“Ya know I do.” He all but whispered, voice shaking.

You hummed approvingly and reached around his head to wrap your fingers around his left wrist, tugging at his hand. “What else?” You nipped at his bottom lip as you guided his palm to your chest. He immediately caught your nipple between his fingers, kneading the sensitive bud between his knuckles. He brought his other hand down to rest on your hip, sensing he no longer needed to wait for your permission. You pushed yourself closer, trapping both his hand and his arousal between the two of you. You were kissing along his jaw and up to his ear when you grew impatient and bit down on the lobe so hard that you expected to taste blood. “What else?”

Daryl growled and released his hold on your breast. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you—somewhat roughly—to press your back against his chest. His arm snaked beneath your own, crossing your chest to hold you in place while his other hand traveled over your shoulder to wrap around your throat. He wasn’t hurting you—not past the point you enjoyed. “Anything I want.” He breathed. “An’ you’re gonna let me, ain’tcha?”

You moaned when his hand left your throat and slipped into your panties to cup the apex of your thighs.

“Cause ya like it.” He spoke in a forced whisper, low with dark promise. You thought you would cum from his voice alone. That was before he slid one finger past your slick folds, his palm stimulating you as he pumped in and out. Head dipping over your shoulder, he placed his lips on your pulse, licking and sucking with the intent to bruise.

You were panting now, pressing your head back against the front of his shoulder. You were certain he had left a mark on your neck that you’d have to explain later, but it was quickly forgotten at the feel of his teeth on the shell of your ear. You moaned loudly, grabbing at his wrist to slow his pace. “Nah.” He scolded, adding another finger and seemingly delighting in your quickened gasps. “Wantcha to scream.”

“Daryl.” You panted, feeling your climax nearing. “Daryl, the window’s open.” You were riding his fingers at this point, his steady breath against your ear driving you. The wet sounds of the moment only added to the debauchery you were certain all of Alexandria could hear.

“Guess they’ll know who’s makin’ ya feel so good then.” He chuckled, pressing the side of his thumb against your clit. “C’mon now. Scream.”

And scream, you did, grinding against his hand until you were too sensitive to even be touched. Before you could even catch your breath, he was tilting you to the side and bending to sweep an arm behind your knees. He carried you over to your bed and threw you down, your body bouncing on the soft surface before he used his knee to part your legs. The archer crawled up your body like a predator, dragging his tongue up your sternum whilst tearing your panties to discard them someplace neither of you currently cared about. You gripped his biceps, feeling the firm muscles flexing there as he held himself above you.

It was you to reach down and guide him to your entrance, biting your lip in anticipation. He didn’t wait. His hips surged forward to sheath himself inside your heat, giving you no time to adjust before he set a rhythm that brought your bodies crashing together. Any hope you had of remaining quiet was soon vanquished when he brought an arm down to hook behind your knee, pushing your leg up toward your shoulder. The move sent a wave of pleasure ripping through you.

“Fuck, right there!” You wouldn’t last much longer like this.

But he didn’t hold the position long. Sitting back on his knees, he pulled you up to meet him, capturing your lips. Seated on his lap with your legs wrapped around his waist, you rolled your hips, nearly tipping over the precipice when Daryl moaned into your mouth. Starting slow, you eventually set a pace that had his mouth hanging open, breaths coming in short gasps while his eyes were screwed shut. He held your hips with bruising force as your nails dragged over his ribs, leaving thin red lines in their wake.

Chewing your lip, you watched him eagerly. You had spent so many nights in his company; bandaging his wounds, talking him down, and attending to his primal needs. And then he would leave. He would always leave. And you wanted more tonight. You needed more.

But you could want and need forever and it would likely change nothing. So you focused on the moment instead.

Stilling your motions, you watched his eyes open, pupils blown wide. “Lie back.” You commanded, lifting yourself off him and waiting for him to move. He stared for a moment before finally obliging, shifting himself to lie back on the pillow. Throwing one leg across him to straddle his hips, you leaned forward to dip your tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat. Daryl keened, arching against you, but you rendered him still with a hand on his chest. “I’m gonna ride you until you can’t think straight.”

The way he looked at you in that moment—awed and hungry—sent a hot wave right between your thighs. You lifted yourself just enough to sink down onto him, starting a rhythm that was anything but slow. His hands alternated between gripping your hips and your thighs, his head thrown back and teeth bared. Looking down at him, you could see his muscles twitching, chest heaving, and you could feel his hands trembling. You yourself were beginning to shake, chasing after your own pleasure as well.

Daryl began to thrust upward to meet your movements, grinding into you and throwing you forward to grab the headboard. He was gasping as if he’d ran a marathon, movements stuttering. “Fuck!”

And that was enough to send you over the edge, painting where you were joined with your desire. Daryl let out a strangled cry and followed you, coming apart with your name on his lips. You rode him through the pulses and aftershocks before collapsing onto his chest. The two of you laid quiet and still for several minutes, regaining control and slowly drifting down from your individual highs.

Somehow, the moment felt right. It felt real.

Daryl interrupted the silence, clearing his throat. “I should go.” He gave you a gentle push, and you lifted off him to roll to the side, gathering the blankets up over you as if suddenly self-conscious.

Lying on your side, propped on your elbow, you watched him while he sat on the edge of the bed. Your claw marks stood out on his tanned sides. You were glad he couldn’t see your smug grin. The archer jerked his head to the side to pop his neck and began to stand. With no memory of granting permission to the action, your hand shot out to grab his wrist, leaving you just as shocked as him.

“Stay.” Your voice was so quiet that you wondered if he had even heard you.

Daryl looked over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. “Stay? Stay here?” He squinted, that certain tick of his that told you he was mulling something over. You nodded, able to breathe again once all the sharpness had melted from his features. “A’ight.” He turned to put his legs back onto the bed, pulling up the portion of the blankets you offered to just above his hips. He laid on his back, one arm behind his head, and stared at the ceiling until his eyes slipped closed.

You remained on your side, watching him silently. Eventually, you moved one arm—only slightly—so that it touched the one not tucked under his head. He opened his eyes for a moment, but said nothing. He didn’t bristle at the contact as he used to, which told you that he was feeling the changes between the two of you as well.

You knew he’d be gone when you awoke, but your mind was still able to shut down and sleep soon came to claim you.

When the sun came up, you were beyond shocked to find he was still there. Awake and facing you with an unreadable expression.

“This okay?” He finally asked. There was a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a confirmation that had your lips curving into the softest of smiles.

“Yeah.” You whispered, reaching out to brush his hair away from his face. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #Spotify

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shychick-52 · 3 days ago

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I know a lot of people hc that even post-Astro B.O.Y.D. and post-series, both Fenton's mom and Gandra would hate Gyro for how he treated Fenton.

But I like to think that after their adventure in Tokyolk, Fenton would proudly tell them how Gyro willingly and desperately risked his life to save him (when he stood between the injured, helpless Fenton and a rampaging Boyd) and, at the same time, also save his son from Akita's corrupt control. And ofc, Fenton would also tell his mom and Gandra that Gyro admitted to being in the wrong for how he treated him before (well, in his own way) and took the first step toward treating him with the respect and support his intern always deserved by hiring him f/t and promoting him (even tho, like Fenton pointed out to Gyro, he wasn't technically a doctor since he didn't actually have his doctorate; but the gesture was incredibly meaningful).

Not only that, but in 'Beaks In the Shell', Gyro not only teamed up with everyone to save Fenton, Gandra, and the GizmoCloud from Beaks, but he also praised the GizmoCloud and was the one to solve the ongoing problem of the glitches in the system.

And he worked together with Gandra again (and Ludwig von Drake) in the finale to disable the Solego Void before Donald could be erased, and Gandra risked her life to come between her fellow scientists and Bradford's attack (and it looked like she got hurt in the process).

After everything Gyro did and all his growth, and what they went through together, I can see both Gandra and M'ma having respect for Gyro. Both post-Astro B.O.Y.D. and post-series. I can't see them holding a grudge against him. And I also like to think that Fenton also told them how hard Gyro always had it (his backstory).

Idk, what do you think? After all, if Gandra should get a pass for what she did to Fenton and all her mistakes- and she also had it rough, which led to her making a lot of poor choices, but she also made up for them and demonstrated character development- then why shouldn't Gyro?

#gyro gearloose #fenton crackshell cabrera #gandra dee #m'ma cabrera #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #headcanon #character analysis #character development

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mvrlqni · 19 hours ago

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ೀ — ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ❞

pairing — modern! dbf ! hwang in-ho x seong ! reader

synopsis — after finishing college, you’d decided to stay with your dad for a while before you go back to your mom. in return of your arrival, he’d decided to throw a little ‘welcome back’ dinner party with some friends of his.

warnings - modern au, explicit language, nsfw, porn with plot, unsafe sex, creampie, age gap, 40’s in-ho, 20’s reader, jealousy, reader is gi-hun’s daughter, gi-hun is NOT broke in this 🙏🙏, NOT proofread and it’s late so there may be mistakes 🥀

wc — 2.22k

AN — THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR TOO LONG + I DISAPPEARED AGAIN IM SO SORRY !! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ i lowkey had no motivation to write but I’ll try my best to continue as season 3 is nearly coming out, im so excited !! also I got into invincible and lowk want to write about nolan, conquest, and thragg…what do u guys think?? likes, comments, reblogs, and requests are appreciated <33

a hurried sigh left you as you thanked the cab driver, taking your bags out and faced and your father’s home. there was multiple cars parked out, some better than others. there was no doubt that your father, seong gi-hun, was a humble man, it is understandable how he had friends who were rich.

you made your way to the front door and fumbled for the keys in your bag. you found them and hurriedly took them out, unlocking the door and twisting it open.

there were noises that could be heard from the living room, your father’s loud laughter rang throughout the house. he must be drunk.

you are your stuff by the stairs and made your way to the living room where your father and his friends could be seen.

“oh, there she is!” a loud yell came from your father as he pointed at you before running up and hugging the life out of you.

you laughed awkwardly at his tight hug before patting his back frantically. “too hard, dad…” his boisterous laugh rang off the walls again before he pulled away. his cheeks were flushed red and his hair was disheveled.

“ah, y/n, congratulations!” jung-bae exclaimed, his face also matching your fathers.

“thank you, mr park.” you grinned whilst your father ruffled up your hair. taking the chance, you glanced around at your fathers other friends. cho sang-woo, he was a respectable and successful man who would usually help with your homework back when you were younger. “nice to see you again, mr cho.”

“a pleasure to see how well you’ve been darling.” he replied, a little smirk on his face. you used to have a crush on the man but it was eventually forgotten when you had left for college.

“y/n.” a voice coming from your left took your attention as your head turned to look at the person. hwang in-ho. a very, very successful man. it was amazing how your father had known so many influential people.

not only was mr hwang a successful man, he was handsome. so handsome that you had also developed a crush on him when you were younger— only difference is that those feelings may still be lingering. “look at you, you’ve certainly…grown.” in-ho murmured, a small sliver of desire in his eyes.

you blushed and stammered before a pair of arms wrapped around you. turning your head once again, you had notice your old friend, dae-ho.

“oh my gosh, dae-ho!” a gasp left you as you immediately broke into a smile and hugged him back. you’ve known dae-ho since the start of high school and it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.

dae-ho appeared to be somewhat drunk as well. his hair sticking to his forehead and his words slurring before he broke into a cry. “y/n! i missed you so—so much!”

tears flood down his cheeks as an ugly-sounding groan left him. he gets emotional when drunk. surprised by his full blown tears, you patted his back as jung-bae dragged him back to lay on the couch.

meanwhile, in-ho’s eyes had narrowed when you had hugged dae-ho. why didn’t you hug him?

he cleared his throat and managed to get your attention back on him. “how old are you now?” he questioned and you told him your age.

“well it has certainly been a while, the last time i saw you, you were 19.”

you nodded in agreement before your attention was once again pulled away from him when sang-woo began making conversation with you.

in-ho, personally did not like sang-woo, both the men feeling distaste for each other yet they tolerated each other for gi-hun’s sake.

for the whole night, in-ho found himself staring down dae-ho and sang-woo. his thoughts filled with jealousy whenever you laughed at dae-ho’s jokes or even smiled at sang-woo.

near the end of the night, sang-woo had left early while your father and jung-bae were passed out. dae-ho, despite being somewhat drunk himself, had helped jung-bae into a spare bedroom while you helped your father into his.

by the time your father was in bed, blankets draped over himself, you found in-ho outside on one of the balconies smoking a cigarette. you admired his form from behind, noticing his muscles through his tight button-up shirt.

a small wave of arousal hit you as you stared, and you blushed before you approached him and stood beside him, clearing your throat. “are you staying the night?”

in-ho glanced over at you and hummed before glancing back up at the moon. “most likely. i’ll have to help your father clean up the mess.”

your eyes widened and you quickly spoke up. “oh, you don’t have to, mr hwang— you can go home and i’ll clean up, don’t worry.”

he arched a brow but shook his head. “no, really, it’s fine. you just came back from college, you should be having fun instead of cleaning up.”

your gaze softened as you stared up at him, nearly admiring his facial features. “it’s not a problem for me but if you insist…” he nodded again before finishing his cigarette, leaving it in an ashtray on one of the tables.

“…you look beautiful.”

you froze at his words, your cheeks flushed and certainly red now. your mouth opened to say something but nothing came out, in-ho chuckling as he noticed.

his hand reached out, grasping your chin and closing your mouth. he moved closer and your heart ran wild.

“a—are you drunk, mr hwang?”

“of course not, and stop it with the ‘mr hwang’, you’re grown up now.” he said, his voice soft and sultry like. gulping, you nodded and stared up into his eyes.

the both of you gazed into each other’s eyes before he moved closer, his mouth inching closer to yours.

“may i kiss you, y/n?”

“…y—yes—” the second he heard your confirmation, he shoved his lips against yours, letting out a soft sigh as he did.

you moaned before kissing him back, your eyes fluttering shut and your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. the two of you stayed in the same position, kissing each other before finally pulling away, a string of saliva from his lips connecting to yours.

soft pants left you as in-ho rested his forehead against yours. “you’re so beautiful…” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. he soon lifted you up as you yelped at the sudden movement, his hands going down to cup your ass and hold you.

“where’s your room?” his voice was raspy now, sending shivers down your spine. you gestured down to the left of the hallway as he carried you back to your bedroom, kissing you once again in the process.

you felt your back in contact with a door before he suddenly opened it, kicking it shut behind him when you both went in. his tongue skilfully slipped into your mouth, wrapping around your own before he settled you down on the bed. “do you want this?”

you nodded, a little too eagerly which made you feel somewhat embarrassed but you couldn’t care less. in-ho chuckled above you.

“words, sweetheart, i need words.”

“yes—i want this—I want you.”

his smirk widened at that and he kissed you once again, trailing down to your neck as he made quick work of your shirt.

his hands skilfully undid the buttons of your shirt before ripping it off you, his hungry gaze landing on your breasts which were covered in a lacy bra. his kisses trailed down to the top of your breasts, leaving hickeys as he did.

you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper, your fingers interlocking with his hair strands, gently pulling at them. you could feel his erection throbbing against his trousers, pressing against your core as he stood between your legs.

he pulled away only slightly to remove your skirt, slipping it down to pool at your ankles before he threw off his own shirt.

you could see the lust and admiration in in-ho’s eyes become more intense when he spotted the wet spot that was pooling onto your panties, licking his lips as he stared.

“gosh you’re gorgeous, m’ never going to get enough of you.”

his hands pulled your panties down revealing your soaked folds, glistening in the moonlight. he groaned and licked his hand before quickly returning it back down between your legs to rub at your clit.

a choked moan left you and your back arched, his hands abusing the bundle of nerves as he rubbed and flicked it. once he felt you were wet enough, he pulled his hand away, his fingers soaked in your juices before he licked them, another groan leaving him.

“you taste divine…” he growled, his hands fumbling with the buckle of his belt as he uncoordinatedly slipped his pants off along with his boxers.

his cock sprung out, hard and heavy, the reddish tip already leaking with pre-cum. you felt your mouth began to water as you stared at it— he was big, obviously, and incredibly thick.

“are you still sure about this?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle. you nodded as his one hand held your hip while the other guided his cock to your entrance.

in-ho looked as if he was practically buzzing with excitement which made you wonder just how long did this man want you?

he rubbed the head of his cock over your slit, spreading his pre-cum onto you as he teased you. you whimpered again and threw your head back before looking up at him. “don’t tease…in-ho.”

oh how he longed to hear your name on his lips— he was always tired of the mr hwang title. with that, he gently pushed into you, earning a small, quiet moan in return.

he let you adjust to his size, his eyes staring straight at yours as he waited for confirmation. you bit your lip and nodded.

as soon as he received the nod, he slammed his hips into yours, causing you to let out a choked moan. “shh, don’t want your father waking up to see his friend fucking his own daughter would you?…”

you shook your head and closed your eyes as he began thrusting, each thrust slowly getting faster and harder than the other. his hand covered your mouth while he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“feels so good…” he heard you murmur against his hand and he grinned, keeping the same pace.

“you’re so tight for me, sweetheart,” he cooed, nipping at your neck. “almost like you were made for my cock.”

his words sent a chill of pleasure throughout your body, moaning against his hand.

he slammed his hips into yours harder, groaning into your neck. “you like it when i go rough, huh? you like that?”

you nod and you could feel tears welling in your eyes, the pleasure was too good.

he continued pounding into you when you reached your first orgasm of the night, your legs trembling around his waist. he didn’t stop, no, he thrusted faster, not once letting you recover from your climax.

the obscene wet sound of his balls hitting your ass rang throughout the room, his hand still tightly clamped around your mouth to muffle your moans.

he merely groaned and growled, his face buried in your neck the entire time as he continued. “what a perfect pussy you have, so perfect for me…” he trailed off, removing his hand from your mouth to replace it with his mouth instead.

his tongue shoved inside your mouth, muffling your moans once again, swallowing them down.

in return, he moaned into your mouth, his thrusts becoming faster. “m’ gonna cum, you want me to cum inside you, sweetheart? huh? want me to fill you up?”

you felt as if you were disoriented, his words adding onto the familiar knot in your navel. “cum in me— please, in-ho, want you inside me…”

he groaned again and his grip on your hip tightened as he spilled inside you, his hips twitching as he came.

silence enveloped the room with the exception of your heavy breathing being heard throughout your room. his body had gone limp on top of yours, his cock still inside you. you could feel his member occasionally twitching and throbbing inside you before he gently pulled out, watching as his seed spilled out of you.

in-ho let out a content sigh, smiling at your disheveled figure on the bed now as he got off the bed, getting a towel from your bathroom and wetting it. he returned and gently wiped at the sweat on your forehead and body, not wiping away the mess between your legs though as he found your panties and slipped them back onto you as if to secure his seed inside you.

“love you…” he heard your sleepy murmur and he hummed softly, kissing at your forehead.

“…i love you too, y/n. i always have.”

he threw the towel somewhere in the room and laid back down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist. he knows he might’ve just gotten you pregnant but he was far too dazed out to care about it. he’ll deal with it later. for now, he just wanted to sleep with you in his arms.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #lee byung hun #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #player 001 #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #front man #front man x reader #player 001 x reader

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cute-little-fly · 3 days ago

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You know you have to wonder what was goi g through Blitzøs head when the Karen client showed up. He brought Stolas to the office that day to try and get his mind off everything that happened and this b word shows up and is the living embodiment of everything that’s happened.

Hello!!!

Sorry that has been taken me so long to come back to answering asks… I have been procrastinating them.

Oh!! I bet he was very distressed and regretting a little bit taking Stolas to office precisely that day… The most triggering thing possible happened… That’s bad luck!

Also, it was the first call Stolas took. Stolas made a mistake of telling her to come immediately which Blitzø didn’t point out to Stolas, because he didn’t want Stolas to feel bad on his first day. He saw Stolas struggling and offered his support.

I think he wanted Stolas to go out and feel fulfillment by being able of do something. Maybe just… take out his mind from his own thoughts too.

But it went completely opposite for Stolas. He was confronted with the other side of what he did. (We know that this Karen it’s not exactly the same as Stella… but her ex husband was now with another man, so… she directly assessed the elephant in the room and Stolas felt directly called out).

Blitzø initially wasn’t buying what the Karen said, and disapproved what she said.

But when he saw it was affecting Stolas he started to feel immediately bad; because the situation was going out of hand. He was able to keep Stolas from thinking those sort of things and suddenly, someone just started to spit everything out. Someone just confronted Stolas with the situation he was just starting to process.

He was super distressed about Stolas right there, when he realized he was getting really affected.

Additionally, I don’t know if other people feel like this but… I feel that Blitzø also was feeling a degree of embarrassment though, Blitzø also felt called out. He clearly feels a little bit of akwardness and uncomfortable towards the situation. But, contrary to Stolas I don’t think Blitzø believes that Stolas did wrong by looking for his happiness. Less now, that he knows he had real feelings towards him. Genuine feelings for other person and wanting that it’s just… not bad.

So, in that moment he mostly tried to water down the situation to avoid Stolas feeling triggered, but at the end he gave up. There was no point, that Karen client wouldn’t let go the situation and there was no way she would frame the situation as less…

Poor Blitzø, he tried to water down the conversation and diminish the framing of the situation. But it wasn’t working at all… I love the last face he makes, when the last bit of composure he has in front of the situation vanishes into oblivion.

Then, he recovers his composure again, and he tries to reject the hit. It’s easy to see why even if they usually don’t care about what they are doing and they don’t take responsibility for that. The situation was making Stolas feel a high degree of distress, so he wouldn’t do anything that made him feel wrong for wanting to have that and for what they had, even if it wasn’t the best.

(I love this small moment when Blitzø tries to deny the job and Moxxie gets surprised in a good way).

But… surprisingly Stolas insisted. He is surprised to see Stolas insisting and he tries to comfort him and telling him that’s not true. I think for this moment he sees the situation as insalvable.

In this moment… maybe I wish Blitzø would have insisted on it a little more. But… with how Stolas mindset was and since the Karen was present there I understand why he thought it might have been worse.

I find interesting that he went along with it even if he initially didn’t wanted to because Stolas was the one to insist. Probably, he didn’t want Stolas to feel guilty of ruining a possible hit for them, and at first he thought about rejecting it because of how it was affecting Stolas.

But… at the end… he saw that he was also affected and he couldn’t bring himself up to ruin what he wanted the most. I feel that he was thinking so much about Stolas there that he didn’t realized the situation hit hard for him too.

What makes me a little sad about this scene, is that here Stolas genuinely believes he was selfish, and that he doesn’t deserve happiness beyond his daughter and family. Like, in reality he was selfish, but, sometimes you gotta get a little selfish you know? Pour a drink to your own cup once in a while, and not just to other people cups.

It’s not bad that parents wish to have a life in their own too… How many woman and queer people have to sacrifice their lives for others where they would be better parents and family members if they were allowed to be happy?

I guess I got myself extra philosophical and emotional about this but… well, I wanted to comment something more beyond oh yes!!

#helluva boss #stolitz #stolas #stolas goetia #blitzø #helluva boss stolas #blitzo #blitz #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss Sinsmas #helluva boss Karen #helluva boss blitz #sinsmas analysis #Stolas first day #office stolas

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your-nanas-house · 14 hours ago

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Can you do cage sex with Joe??? He kidnaps you and then sexy stuff happens in the cage but at the end you realize he really isn't ever going to let you go? Thank you I LOVE your Joe fics

Yessss. Omg, thank you ♡ Sorry it took me so long 😭

Glass cage

◇ Pairing: Joe Goldberg x fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Joe being Joe, kidnapping, glass cage, lies

◇ Summary: Y/n tries to escape by seducing Joe.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Her head had hit the glass in frustration, the cold surface pressed against the warmth of her cheek. She had been locked since days now and started to get used to the routine.

Waiting, receiving, waiting, suffering, receiving.

She had been stuck in the waiting phase since probably hours, her hopes pretty low to see Joe enter the basement. But not zero.

The door opened, and a glimmer of light appeared on the dusty stairs. His footsteps were slow, he probably was carrying something with him as he made his way downstairs.

"Joe!" The young woman quickly beamed, pressing her hands against the glass in hope to see what the man was doing. To ease her heartbeat and fear.

Was he there to feed her again? Bring her a book? Good news? Free her?... hopefully.

"I brought you some more paper so you won't be out of it for your book. How is your writing going so far?" His voice filled the basement, making her tired mind realize she wasn't alone anymore. With all the time spent on her own and the continued planning to escape, she started to cope a bit to protect her from what was happening.

"Thank you.... yes, I've been writing some pages, but I'm stuck. I feel so lonely and guilty... for the way I treated you. You were just doing it for me, to protect me and help me, and I was just so...." Y/n stopped her voice, cracking during her lie. She really hoped that the bookseller wouldn't notice and just go along with what she was confessing.

Hopefully freeing her.

But of course, it wasn't that simple. His face mirrored a mix of confusion, uncertainty and hope. His doe brown eyes staring intently at her figure waiting for her to continue.

"Ungrateful. I'm sorry for that, Joe... I miss you, miss having you close.. I miss your cock" she whispered, pressing her body against the glass with a fake desperate facade.

The man in front of her was a complex instrument, a couple of wrong buttons and the symphony would change into a horrible thing. But with the right ones everything could go for the best.

"Could you ever forgive me? Please, Joe. We could starts everything from the beginning. Buy a house with a white fence, get a dog... kids" her tone got more pleading and soft, tears welling up in her eyes as a soft smile appeared on her face.

Joe didn't speak yet, his eyes following her as he looked up with hope and "love". His chest felt suddenly warm and everything felt right in his point of view. His slender fingers played with the keys, searching the right one so unlock the door.

His guard seemed still up as he opened it carefully, stepping inside and closer to her.

His expression was mimicking a puppy's one, his soft gaze piercing in hers as he hesitantly approached as if he thought he was in a dream. It wasn't a dream, though.

Y/n was still locked and was playing a dangerous game. A bad move and she could end up even worse, maybe six feet under.

"I'm so glad you can finally see it. We are meant to be, we always have... since you walked in the bookshop." He rambled out, his hands rested shakily on her hips to pull her into a hug. Their bodies flush against each other, fabric rubbing softly together as their perfumes mixed together.

A hesitant look up to meet his brown eyes and their lips were locked in a kiss. A kiss that seemed now almost foreign, different from the ones they shared before the disaster. It was needy, passionate yet tender and vulnerable just like Joe's touch.

The door was still open, just leaned, a clear message of possible freedom. The mere thought was enough to inject adrenaline in Y/n's veins, her lips moving more fiercely against his. One of her hands tangled in his brown curls while the other started to unbutton his shirt. She dreamed about freedom, she couldn't bear staying in that glass cage for any longer.

Her hands worked quickly on his belt, unbottoning and unzipping, before moving her hand in them. Her palm pressed against his hardening crotch, causing the man to whimper in pleasure.

His brown eyes flattered shut for a moment as to take in the sensation of having her hand again on him.

"Always wondered how—" Y/n started, shutting herself when her lips pressed against Joe's. Her movements increased in speed, stroking now his erection through the soft fabric of his underwear. Meanwhile his hand had slipped in her pants as well, rubbing her clit as he peppered kisses wherever he could.

It didn't take much time for the man to squirm and move her hand away, already too close to the climax. They hadn't fucked in a while and Joe wanted it to be more than 8 seconds or a couple of minutes, nutting on her hand like a teenager. He wished to be inside her, feel her, trust her.

In little time Y/n's face was against the cold glass of the cage, legs spread as Joe's cock kept thrusting between her folds. His hands pressed hers against the surface as he kept grunting in her ear, repeating as a mantra 'I love you' when he reached his climax.

And... then the door got locked again. Locking her there again.

"Joe?" Y/n's voice broke, her eyes wide as she watched him, now fully dressed. His brown watery eyes pierced hers as he smiled goofily, hearth beating like crazy.

#joe goldberg fanfiction #joe golberg #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg smut #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x y/n #joe goldberg

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dayasfilms · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter Seven - Filling The Tank

Summary: The boys have been hiding a girl with psychic powers this entire time, and it seemed insanely impressive that they were able to do it without anyone noticing. However, it was finally time to get Will back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, weapons, and bullying. No mentions of Y/N. Some mistakes in information, not everything is factual.

Word Count: 3.5k

Note: Getting close to the last chapter of season one!

Series Masterlist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

“Hey, Jonathan?” Joyce exclaimed, walking into the building with Yasmin and Hopper. “Jesus, what...what happened?”

Callahan stood up, trying to calm her down. “Ma’am…”

Joyce glared at him. “Why is he wearing handcuffs?”

“Well, your boy assaulted a police officer. That’s why.” Callahan responded, making you roll your eyes.

“He didn’t even mean to,” you told him, throwing your hands up, before mumbling again. “Maybe if the idiot knew how to do his job–”

“Wait, what did you just call me?” Callahan looked at you, offended.

“You are an idiot.” Yasmin shrugged, raising an eyebrow. “Still don’t know how you got this job.”

“Take them off!” Joyce told them, pointing at Jonathan. “Take them off!”

Yasmin let out a frustrated breath, glaring at Hopper. You and your mom were not typically fond of Callahan. Hopper sighed before stepping forward. “You heard her. Take ’em off.”

Powell stepped in, looking at Hopper. “Chief, I get everyone’s emotional here, but there’s something you need to see.”

Powell and Callahan took Hopper to Jonathan’s car, before coming back with the box full of weapons you, Jonathan, and Nancy bought. Yasmin looked at you, her mouth agape, as Joyce pulled the box closer to her. “What is this?” Joyce exclaimed.

“Why don’t you ask your son?” Hopper questioned, looking between Jonathan and Joyce. “We found it in his car.”

Jonathan immediately fought back. “Why are you going through my car?”

“Okay, no, hold on!” Yasmin shouted, causing everyone to shut up. Your mom pointed at you and Jonathan. “I want to see you two in Hop’s office. We are going to clear up everything.”

You crossed your arms. “You first.”

“What?” Your mom asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You pointed between Yasmin and Hopper. “You two have a lot of explaining to do, as well.”

You sat next to Jonathan and Nancy in Hopper’s office, with him, your mom, and Joyce sitting in front of you. Joyce examined the photographs Jonathan took, where the monster is clearly shown.

“You say blood draws this thing?” Hopper asked, taking the photo from Joyce.

“We don’t know,” Jonathan answered, fiddling with his fingers.

Nancy looked at him before looking at the floor. “It’s just a theory.”

“Well, actually, I believe it does,” you said, making everyone look at you. “The other day, I cut myself and there was something in the air…it was really cold. The exact same feeling I had when Nance and I accidentally went through that place.”

Yasmin, Joyce, and Hopper looked at her. “What?” Yasmin asked sternly. “When was this?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Um, the day of Will’s, well fake Will’s, funeral.”

Yasmin’s eyes widened, standing up as she said your name. “You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought I was imagining things,” you shrugged.

Hopper ran a hand over his face and then looked back at the photo. He glanced back at you and saw you picking at your fingers, quieter than usual. Yasmin covered her eyes, taking a deep breath as she sat back down.

After more explaining, the others soon left the room and before you could leave, Hopper called your name. “Sit.” You turned around and sat down, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yasmin sat next to you, taking a hold of your hands. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me anything, sweetheart, okay? I told you, whenever you think something is wrong, you tell me straight away.”

You felt guilty, looking at your hands. “I know, but, you haven’t been exactly telling me anything, either.”

Hopper, who was sitting at his desk, crossed his arms. “We weren’t sure of anything, yet,” he told you truthfully, meeting Yasmin’s eyes. “It was only a working theory. If anything, don’t blame your mom. Blame me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t blame anyone.”

“Okay,” Yasmin whispered, kissing your head. “I know it’s hard but if anything like this happens again, you tell me, Hopper, or even Joyce. I don’t want you disappearing, too.”

“Yeah, but,” you looked at her and Hopper. “I can take care of myself.”

She shook her head, a small smile evident on her face. “I know you can.”

Suddenly, you heard shouting coming from outside the office, making the three of you turn towards the door. “Uh oh, sounds like some angry parent,” you snickered.

Hopper stood up, opening the door. You saw Jonathan and Joyce outside of the room. “Stay here,” Hopper told them. You and your mom followed as Hopper went up to the mother and child talking to Powell and Callahan. The two of you stood against the wall, watching the scene.

You listened to a little boy and his mom complaining about a girl who supposedly injured him. You were going to leave since it was just a mother complaining about a fight but stopped once the kid told them about the girl being able to do certain things. That made Yasmin leave your side and walk up to them.

“She can…” the boy nervously said. “Do things…” Still confused on what he meant, you kept listening.

“What kind of things?” Hopper asked.

“Like…make you fly.” Normally, you would just laugh from what the boy said but considering everything that has been going on, there may be some truth to the statement. “And piss yourself.” You let out a little snort at the statement.

Yasmin looked at the boy. “Was she alone?” She asked, pressing for more.

The boy did not hold back from what he said next. “She always hangs out with those losers.”

“Losers?” You mumbled to herself. You took a closer look at the boy and instantly recognized him. He was one of the boys that always bullied Will, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike. You heard the boys sometimes tell you about him and the things he has done to them. You even once gave him and his friend a piece of your mind.

You thought for a moment. Your mind went back to the day you visited the boys at the Wheeler’s house. You remembered a noise and the boys clearly hiding something. And then it clicked. “Oh my God.”

Your assumptions were correct and now you, Jonathan, Joyce, Nancy, Yasmin and Hopper were on your way to the Wheeler’s house. However, you all realized you were a little too late when you saw cars piled up outside of their house.

Hopper parked his car far away, far enough where those people would not be able to see you. You knew it was the people from the lab who created a fake body of Will, as your mom had told you. You knew why she had the paper about Hawkins lab at your house the other day now. Hopper got out of the car, using his binoculars to watch what was happening from a distance.

“I have to go inside,” Nancy said in distress, worried for her family.

“No, you can’t,” Hopper stopped her, still looking through the binoculars.

“My mom…my dad…they are in there!” She exclaimed angrily.

“They’re going to be okay,” he reassured her.

Nancy shook her head and started walking away from the car and towards her house. You immediately noticed and ran towards her, stopping her. “Nancy, get back in the car.”

“Nancy, the last thing we need is for them to know that you’re also mixed up into all of this,” Yasmin told the girl.

“Mike is over there!” She cried, pointing her fingers.

“They haven’t found him,” you told her, causing Nancy to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. You pointed towards the helicopters in the air. “They’re still safe, for now.”

Hopper started pulling her towards the car while Nancy was just confused. “For Mike?!”

“Get in the car, Nance,” you said sternly, pushing her inside.

The six of you were now inside the car. Hopper turned toward Nancy in the back. “Look, we need to find them before they do. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

Nancy shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“I need you to think,” he told her.

“I don’t know! We haven’t talked a lot,” she said. “I mean, lately,” she sighed.

“Is there any place that your…your parents don’t know about that he might go?” Joyce frantically asked.

You looked at Jonathan, silently asking if he knew anything. He shrugged.

Yasmin said your name, making you look up. “You and the boys are close. Do you know anything? Any ideas?”

“I might,” you said, everyone turning their heads to look at you. “I don’t know where they are but–”

“We know how to ask them,” Jonathan finished, making eye contact with you.

You knew he was thinking what you were thinking but you still had to make sure. “You’re talking about the walkie talkies, right?” He nodded his head, telling Hopper to go to his house so they could communicate with the boys through Will’s walkie talkie that was still in his room.

Hopper drove you to the Byers’ house and rushed inside, you and Nancy shocked at all the lights in the house. “Woah!” Nancy looked around.

You and Jonathan opened Will’s door and immediately started searching for the walkie talkie. You all rummaged through his drawers and closet before Joyce looked under his bed and found it there instead. “Got it!”

Nancy started talking on it, hoping Mike would answer her. “Mike, are you there? Mike?” There was silence. “Mike, it’s me, Nancy.” You were growing concerned by the second, knowing they were running out of time. “Mike, please answer. This is an emergency.”

Hopper grasped the walkie talkie out of Nancy’s hands and started speaking through it himself. “Listen, kid, this is the chief. If you’re there, pick up. We know you’re in trouble and we know about the girl.” It was still silent. “We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up. Are you there? Do you copy? Over.”

There was still silence on the other end. You sighed, walking over to Hopper. “Let me try,” you told him, grabbing the walkie talkie. “Hey Mike,” you said softly. “I know you’re with Lucas and Dustin right now and I know you’re in trouble so please answer because time is running out.” You waited a few seconds before continuing. “I said you can tell me anything, right? So, please tell me where you are. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You pursed her lips, waiting for an answer. Just as they were about to give up, Mike finally spoke. “Yeah, I copy.” You exhaled quietly, grateful that he finally answered. “It’s Mike. I’m here. We’re here.”

Hopper left to go to the destination the boys told them to go to and you, Yasmin, Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy stayed put in the house. You were all anxious, praying that everything would go alright. Even though you were grateful you had your mom, you looked over Nancy, feeling upset for her. The girl sat on the couch, hugging herself as she grew more worried by the second. You sat next to her, giving her a reassuring smile before giving her a side hug, to which the girl returned.

All of you waited until you saw the headlights of a car, which could be seen through the window. You all immediately ran out of the house as the kids and Hopper got out of the car. Nancy rushed over to Mike, embracing him in a hug. “Mike, oh my God.”

You spotted Lucas and Dustin, the two seeing you in return, and you ran over to them, holding them tight. “I’m so glad you guys are okay. You losers almost gave me a heart attack when you didn’t answer.”

“Don’t call us losers, that’s not nice,” Dustin said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes. “My bad, I’ll call you morons, next time.”

“We only answered because of you,” Dustin grinned. “Lucas kept pestering Mike to answer once he heard your voice.

Lucas’ eyes grew wide. “Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Okay, hey, hey, relax,” you chuckled, gently slapping their shoulders. You looked up to see a girl, presumably the one who was running around Hawkins since she had a shaved head, with psychic abilities.

“Is that my dress?” Nancy asked once she noticed the girl standing a few feet away from them.

The boys started explaining everything they knew about this other dimension, called the Upside Down. They said that everything that was in their world was the exact same thing in the Upside Down, just more scarier and no people. They even mentioned a sensory deprivation tank the girl was put in, and Hopper saw the exact tank at the lab when he snuck in. They continued on with talking about a gate and how they could possibly enter the other dimension.

“Is there any way you could reach Will? Could you talk to him?” Joyce asked, a sliver of hope left in her.

“The Upside Down,” the girl, Eleven, said.

“Down?”

Eleven nodded.

“And my friend Barbara…Could you find her too?” Nancy asked. The girl nodded again.

They gathered around the dining table and Eleven tried to communicate with Will and Barbara through the walkie talkie using her powers. You were impressed. It was incredible to see someone have super powers, let alone a child, though you do not like the idea of how she got them. There were only static noises coming from the walkie talkie and an occasional light flickering before Eleven finally opened her eyes, on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry…I can’t find them.” You gripped the table hard, a sick feeling in your stomach.

They were going to ask Eleven to try again before she stood up, going into the bathroom. The boys explained how she gets weak after she uses her powers so she has to recharge, as if she were a battery.

“How long will we have to wait?” You asked, concerned for the girl.

“The bath.” Eleven spoke, startling you. You turned around to see her standing behind you, near the doorway. “I can find them. In the bath.” Everyone looked at her, taking a moment to think about what she said.

“Sweetheart, do you think if we can make something similar to the bath at the lab, you will be able to find them?” Yasmin asked, stepping forward as she put a hand on her shoulder. Eleven looked at her, nodding her head.

You crossed your arms. “So, we need to make a makeshift sensory deprivation tank?”

“H-how do we do that?” Nancy asked.

The boys looked at one another, before an idea popped into Dustin’s head. “We can ask Mr. Clarke!”

Lucas gave him a hesitant look. “You think he’ll answer at this time of night?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t have to call Mr. Clarke,” you told them. Everyone looked at you, before you rolled your eyes. “Look, okay, we learned about wellness practices in one of my classes. People who deal with mental illnesses, specifically anxiety, find these sensory deprivation tanks useful to ease their stress.”

“Do you know how to build one?” Hopper asked her.

You nodded your head, thinking back to what you learned. “It’s really easy. We need something to pour water in, maybe we can use the kiddie pool if you still have it Joyce,” you nodded your head towards the woman, Joyce humming in response.

The boys stared at her in awe, wishing they had come to her sooner. “She’s hot and a genius,” Dustin whispered, to which Mike slapped his head.

You sighed, not hearing the comment, before adding in one more detail. “But we need lots of salt.”

“How much is lots?” Hopper questioned, slightly impressed with her knowledge about the subject. Yasmin grinned at her daughter’s intelligence.

You gave them a sheepish smile. “Fifteen-hundred pounds, at least.”

You all drove to the school, the kids, Yasmin, and Joyce in Hopper’s car and the teens in Jonathan’s car. You all started getting all the salt and getting the kiddie pool set up, trying your best to get it set as fast as possible.

You, Nancy, and Mike went to the storage room to grab pipes to fill the pool with water. The door was locked and Mike tried shoving his body into the door but it did not budge.

“Stand back,” you told him, making both the Wheeler’s move away from the door. You stepped back and then kicked the door with full force, the lock breaking. The two stared at you, mouths wide open. “Come on,” you told them, spotting the pipes and grabbing them.

You found a small cart to put the pipes in and rolled them over to the school. “What did she even eat?” Nancy asked, breaking the silence.

“What?” Mike asked, confused.

“Eleven, what did she eat?”

“Oh, uh, candy, leftovers, Eggos…” Mike answered.

“You know…” you spoke, making Mike look at you. “I knew you three were lying to me when I asked if you were hiding something in the basement the other day.”

“How?” He asked, genuinely wondering.

“I heard that loud noise. Plus, you guys were acting really weird,” you chuckled. “I just thought you guys were shaken up about Will, but you didn’t even yell back at me when I called you losers as I left the room like you usually do. That was extremely unlike you.” You three were closer to the school now, deciding to give Nancy the chance to speak to Mike alone, knowing how worried she was about her little brother. “I’m going to go on ahead and give these to them.” You jogged over to the entrance and made your way to the gym where the others were setting up the pool.

They filled it with water and started adding salt. It took a couple of tries but they managed to add the right amount of salt for Eleven to be able to float. Once it was ready, you all gathered around the pool and Eleven got in, starting to float.

You were all quiet and the lights started to flicker. You were really nervous, hoping that she would be able to find Will and Barbara.

“Barbara…” Eleven spoke. She started to breathe heavily and the lights started flickering again. “Gone. Gone. Gone.” Eleven started to cry and scream. Nancy put a hand over her mouth and cried silently. You felt terrible, comforting Nancy as you hugged her. You did not know Barbara very well but you knew how much she meant to Nancy. Finding out that she was gone was devastating.

“Will…” Eleven said again. Joyce gasped. You exhaled quietly, putting a hand over your heart. He was still alive.

“Tell him that his mom is coming,” Joyce told Eleven. “Tell him to stay where he is. We’re coming. We’re coming.”

“Hurry,” a voice from the radio spoke. It was Will’s voice, telling you all to hurry. You needed to get him out of there and fast.

Eleven started to whimper and then jumped up, crying. Yasmin hugged her, telling her that it was okay, comforting her the best she could. You rubbed Eleven’s back, soothing her as she calmed down.

You got Eleven out of the pool and you helped wrap her in a blanket. The little girl gave you a small smile, to which you returned. “You did good, El,” you told her, holding her. You left Eleven with the kids on the bleachers, walking away to find everyone else.

You saw your mom, Hopper, Joyce, and Jonathan leave the building. “What’s going on?”

Yasmin looked at you, giving you a tight hug. “Sweetie, I don’t want you to worry, okay? We’re going to the lab to get Will.”

You could not help but feel scared, your heart beating rapidly at the thought of your mom going into danger. Yet, you still nodded your head, returning her embrace. “Okay, please stay safe.”

She pulled back and cupped your cheeks. “I will. Take care of yourself, and the others, alright?”

Nodding your head, you watched as your mom, Joyce, and Hopper climbed into his car, driving off into the distance. You looked at Jonathan, eyebrows furrowing in worry, before heading back inside together.

You went to go find Nancy and saw that she was in the hallway, sitting up against a wall. You walked over to her and slid down the wall as well, sitting in complete silence. Jonathan came over next, sitting next to Nancy.

“We have to go back to the station,” Nancy said, voice cracking.

The two turned to look at her. “What?” Jonathan asked.

“Your moms and Hopper are just walking in there like bait,” she said. “That thing is still in there.”

You thought for a moment, before standing up. “I agree. We can’t let that thing just sit there and get them too. We have to get rid of it. Just like we originally planned.”

Jonathan nodded his head, thinking over what you two were saying. “You two still want to try it out?”

“I want to kill it,” Nancy told him, making eye contact with you.

“And we will,” you reassured her.

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luck-of-the-drawings · 1 year ago

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EVERYONE SEEMS TO HAVE MOVED ON SO WELL, ITS LIKE NO ONE EVEN CARES THAT SHES GONE. ISNT ANYONE ELSE FUCKING MAD? OR CONFUSED? I WILL TEAR THIS WHOLE WORLD APART FOR AN ANSWER, SINCE NO ONE ELSE SEEMS TO WANT TO.

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi riptide #jrwi riptide spoilers #jay ferin #FORGOT TO POST THISSUN WWWOOOOPS!!#anyway JAY!!! at some point during the feywild arc. after gill lost pretzel. condi had mentioned that the reason jay enabled gills rampage #was bc she had lashed out the same way when she lost her sister. what was that like? what was jay like when she was sad and heartbroken and #AAANGRY? like we've seen her get mad and upset but. we've never seen her in the deepest throes of grief and anguish #I WANNA SEE HER AT HER WORST shes so cool and fascinating to me. also she totally took up smoking that time. thats MY silly headcanon #i love drawing the ferin family so much too. she has the nose from her dads side and the eyes from her mothers #i also like the idea that during the first part of riptide. she was doing her hair up like her sisters. all the more reason for lizzie to #mistake her for her sister eheheh.#NO OTHER THOUGHTS. HEAD EMPTY. TALK TO ME ABT JAY IN THE TAGS #I LOVE READING TAGS I WILL READ YOUR TAGS

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astramachina · 2 years ago

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Maybe it's to do with how we're exposed to our languages growing up? I often get asked what my first language is and I just blank out because I legitimately cannot say whether it's Spanish or English. My dad only spoke English until he met mom, and mom was fluent in both English and Spanish when she met him. Meanwhile, growing up in PR during the 90s meant that 98% of the world outside of my childhood home was in Spanish, while the world inside our house was 99% English. TV, movies, music, books--everything was in English, and I was an avid reader. But also PR Spanish is so viciously "improper"/mutated that half our lexicon are badly pronounced English words.

Prende los parabrisas? Nah. It's prende los wipers. Dame un momento? Nope. It's dame un break. I was in AP Spanish during middle school and my teacher was a member of La Real Academia Española and boy howdy this lady had daily aneurysms because her students spoke like "American dropouts".

So like... I'm shrugging with plenty of confusion. There is no brain switching when I flip flop between English and Spanish. Words from both languages do blend together stupidly into a single sentence. It's not proper, but it just happens.

Granted, when writing dialogue it might sound weird when it's written by someone who's monolingual because conjugations might be off so on so forth, but that aside idk what some of y'all are talking about.

#i guess spanish would be my first because whenever i get pissed i immediately switch to it. english just doesn't have that OOMPH.#motherfucker is well and all but nothing quite hits like calling someone un mamabicho.#text tag #been thinking about this a lot because i have a lot of spanish dialogue in my book and one my betas is bilingual #and she pointed out what she took to be a mistake but i had to explain that no we just use that word differently.#she was very confused and it put me on the spot on whether i want to stick to the authenticity or make it a hint more universal.

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kaijutegu · 1 year ago

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Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

youtube

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

#reptiblr #alligator #crocodile #Youtube

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navybrat817 · 6 months ago

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Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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amiableness · 1 year ago

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Little Lies

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Summary: James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: smut 18+, male masturbation, oral fem receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be so careful!), reader wears a bikini top, and jealousy

A/N 💌 Hope you all enjoy this; it's been my baby for a while!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I may have severely fucked up.” James sighs, his features tight with guilt as he stands before you. His chest is heaving like he has run all the way to you—it’s a likely theory.

Remus glances up from beside you; the two of you had been buried in your homework in the common room when James came racing in. He’s disappointed that James has disrupted the productive atmosphere. There’s no way that you or Remus will be continuing to work on your essays.

His admission doesn’t surprise you; James has come to you countless times seeking assistance after making a mistake. Being best friends since you were born, you’ve grown accustomed to being the one to untangle his messes.

Your parents were best friends, which meant that you and James were also raised to be. There wasn’t a memory that you could recall that James wasn’t in. It ended up working; to both of your mum’s excitement, you and James were inseparable. As the levelheaded one between you, you often found yourself trailing after James, tasked with picking up the pieces.

It was in the aftermath of pranks spiraling out of control, times when he impulsively voiced things he really shouldn’t have, or instances when he procrastinated excessively on his work, inevitably turning to you for help with his essays. Surprisingly, it’s become almost amusing to you, a reliable routine in your friendship.

You undeniably held the title of James Potter’s best friend.

Your eyes narrow skeptically, folding your arms over your chest, “Define severely.”

His demeanor turns sheepish as he nervously rubs the back of his neck, his gaze drifting away from you. He looks incredibly uncomfortable, “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“You’re not starting off strong.” You snark, an amused smile finding its way onto your lips. Remus chuckles next to you.

“Y/n.” James sighs, his expression urging you to stop your teasing.

“James.” You mimic.

He shoots you a glare, eyes narrowed in mock irritation, “Lily and I were chatting, like really chatting,” He begins, sighing obnoxiously as he settles into the chair opposite you, his expression a grimace. “She told me why she hasn’t taken me seriously when I flirt with her.”

You pause, confusion etching into your features, “And where exactly did you severely fuck up?”

“She thought we were a couple.” He says, his hands gesturing wildly between the two of you, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. “Can you believe that? You and me?”

You can believe that, actually. You and James have been mistaken for a couple more times than you can count. Even your parents were convinced the two of you would end up together. While you had told them it wasn’t going to happen, you were convinced they were still holding out hope.

You furrow your brows as you watch him a tad uneasy, “Okay, and where did you severely fuck up in this?”

“I panicked, okay?” James looks guilty when he blurts this out. He nearly shouts it, and Remus hushes him. “She said it wasn’t fair for me to flirt with her because of you. She didn’t want your feelings to be hurt and wouldn’t listen when I said we were just friends. And I panicked.”

“Mate, get to the bloody point.” Remus huffs out, tired of James dragging out the story. Nothing bothered Remus more than when James or Sirius took an eternity to get to the point of their story.

“I told her you’re dating Sirius.” James grimaces, shifting nervously.

“What?” You hiss, your palms smacking onto the table, causing James to flinch, “Have you taken too many hits to the head? James, we are not dating!”

James protests, panicking, “But Lily doesn’t know that! If you two could just pretend-“

“No, absolutely not! That is going too far.” You snap, sending James a frustrated look, while Remus is chuckling to himself next to you.

“Y/n, please. This could be it! My chance with Lily!” James pleads. He’s desperate to try and salvage the plan he had put all his hopes on.

“Starting your new relationship with a lie, are we?” You snap, massaging at your temples. Most of the stress is from spending too many hours studying, but James is undoubtedly making it worse.

James shrugs, a mischievous smirk starting to form, “Well, not really. You and Sirius already flirt a lot. It’s not that far off from the truth.”

James was well aware of your feelings for Sirius; he had watched how you nervously stumbled over your words the first day you met Sirius. He had never seen you like that before, eyes lit up with inflation at first glance.

While he occasionally teased you about it, he understood that what you felt for Sirius was deeper than just a crush. Though you would never admit it out loud.

Your frustration grows, “It absolutely is far off from the truth. Lily probably didn’t even believe you! There’s no evidence for her to believe the idea that we are together.” You cry, disbelief evident in your voice. James’s casual attitude only adds to your frustration. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

Remus interjects, an amused scoff escaping him, “There’s evidence to believe it.”

“Are you joking?” You deadpan, your voice full of incredulity. Remus sends you a teasing smirk. He considers how Sirius flirts with you more than anyone else, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sirius furious at him.

Ever since you met Sirius, you have had a crush on him. Realistically, you knew it was pointless; Sirius had a fan club of admirers. So, you counted yourself lucky that you were one of his closest friends. Being his friend was manageable, and quite honestly, kept your expectations in check.

But Sirius acting like he had feelings for you? You wouldn’t handle that well.

James interjects, “Lily believed it. She even said she wasn’t surprised.”

“But she thought you and I were together?” You ask, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Your tone was snippier than you intended, but you could feel the stress building. The mere thought of pretending to be with Sirius made you feel nauseous.

“She might’ve just been jealous, wanting to know if you had feelings for James before she finally goes for him.” Remus says casually, and James’ eyes light up in excitement.

James is positively giddy as he leans forward, “You think she was jealous?”

“Does Sirius even know?” You interrupt, catching James’s eye. He glances at Remus, clearly hoping to hear more about Lily’s supposed jealousy.

James shakes his head, and you scoff, opening your mouth to enlighten James on why you think this is a bad idea. Before you can say anything, Remus cuts you off, “Here’s your chance to tell him.”

You glance up to see Sirius walking through the library, and you resist letting out a lovesick sigh at how effortlessly handsome he is.

Your stomach plummets at the sight of a stunning girl effortlessly chatting with him. His laughter rings out, causing unease to settle in your stomach.

If he was close enough, you probably would’ve tried to eavesdrop.

Despite not knowing her name, you know she’s a Gryffindor; you’ve seen her in the common room. James nudges you, and when you glance at him, he sends you a knowing look.

“Glad to see you guys are having study dates without Peter and me.” Sirius calls, settling into the seat next to James and patting him on the shoulder in greeting.

Relief washes over you as you notice that the girl who was with him a second ago is long gone. He glances over at you, and pauses in surprise at your disgruntled expression, “You okay?”

Remus chuckles at the question, finding the harsh look you shoot James hilarious. It’s clear that he’s finding this entire situation entertaining.

“Ask James about what he told Lily.” You say, voice strained with irritation. James sends Sirius a nervous smile, and Sirius looks at him oddly.

“What’d you do?”

Sirius asks, his eyes darting back to you, taking note of your frustrated expression. Your stomach tightens with nerves, scared of Sirius’ reaction. Remus leans back in his chair, excited to see how this will all play out.

“Lily and I were talking today,” James sighs, “and she wouldn’t stop going on about how she thinks Y/n is in love with me and that it’s not fair for me to flirt with her because I could be hurting her.”

“She thinks I’m in love with you?” You shriek, oblivious to the barely visible flinch on Sirius’ face at James’ words. Remus catches it, his grin getting bigger.

James ignores you, “Anyways, I said that it’s not a problem because you and Y/n are dating.” James finishes cautiously, his gaze locked on Sirius, curious for his reaction. Your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes fixed intently on Sirius, awaiting his reaction as well.

“You told Lily that Y/n’s my girl?” Sirius inquires casually, causing your stomach to somersault at his words. You force yourself to focus on James instead of the warmth creeping into your skin.

“I panicked, and that’s what came out. So, if you guys could pretend you’re madly in love, that would be great!” James claps his hands together, and you feel the urge to wack him. You’re prepared to snap at him, to explain why asking this of you both isn’t right.

But then Sirius shrugs, “Sure, shouldn’t be too hard, right, sweet girl?” He says, and your legs feel like jelly.

You’re floundering, not having expected Sirius to agree. He’s never maintained a steady relationship, so pretending that he’s dating you is a big ask. His agreement sends your mind spiraling with different scenarios. For a brief second, you wonder if he agrees so easily because he has feelings for you. But you quickly shut down that thought.

You’re delusional. You truly are.

“Sure, that shouldn’t be too bad.” You agree, hoping you appear casual about this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I need you two to amp it up. Lily is eating breakfast with us today.” James directs, causing you to glance up from your breakfast, disbelief etched into your features. He takes a bite of bacon and casually observes you as though his request is perfectly normal.

“We’ve switched spots, is that not enough for you?” You ask sarcastically, and Remus shakes his head, wearing an entertained smile as he continues eating breakfast. He can tell you’re panicking about pretending to be with Sirius; it’s painfully obvious to everyone at the table.

You’re usually seated between James and Peter, but when you attempted to slide into the seat this morning, James slammed his hand down on the seat and instructed you to sit next to your boyfriend, wearing a smug smile. Peter snorted softly but quickly replaced it with a sympathetic smile, silently apologizing for his reaction.

“I mean, we all know Sirius is into PDA, and you look terrified to even be sitting next to him.” Peter points out, and you find yourself scrabbling.

Were you two supposed to be super affectionate? Would Sirius find it weird if you initiated it? Questions are flooding your mind leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

“I am not terrified. I just don’t know how to act.” You insist.

“Act like you’re in love with him; it shouldn’t be too hard, right?” James quips, earning a glare from you. He responds with a playful wink.

“The boys are right. You need to sit closer to me.” Sirius declares as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You squeak his name in surprise, flustered at how easily he moves you. The boys chuckle at your bewildered expression, finding your embarrassment hilarious.

You feel disappointed when he releases you. Even more so when he doesn’t pull you flush against him. Instead, your shoulder to shoulder, the distance between you both feeling more pronounced than ever.

“I’m still waiting on the PDA.” Remus says with a playful smirk; his eyes are full of mischief when you glance at him.

You elbow Remus in the side, and he playfully nudges you back, causing you to bump into Sirius’ side. Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around you, keeping you against him while playfully calling out, “Oi, back off, mate.” Being pressed against his side causes warmth to spread through you as you lean further into him.

James watches as Sirius’s cheeks flush, a soft smile on his face as he gazes down at you. You appear flustered but content, being so close to him, and James can’t help but grin at the two of you.

“We’re not going to be all over each other.” You say, attempting to distract yourself from the fact that you’re pushed up against Sirius.

“Why not?” James leans forward with a grin, clearly finding everything about this entertaining. “That is what most couples do. Plus, Sirius openly flirts with everyone. But he won’t kiss his own girlfriend? It’s not believable.”

“Merlin, we should have talked about this last night.” You mumble under your breath, and Sirius chuckles beside you. He’s entirely at ease. It doesn’t seem like he has any worries about pretending to be your boyfriend. With that observation, you try not to let your worries spiral out of control.

“Listen, we can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you don’t want to kiss, then we don’t have to,” Sirius tells you gently, “but it would be sort of odd for us not to be somewhat affectionate.”

The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable. But there’s a rush of exhilaration at the thought of holding you close and calling you pet names that were once off-limits. And the thought of possibly kissing you?

Surviving that would be inconceivable for him.

“You’re right,” You nod. “Let’s just start off slow. It will be weird if we’re all over each other today when we didn’t even sit together yesterday.”

“Yeah, yeah! Flirt, be a little touchy, throw some cute pet names in here, will you, Sirius?” James calls out with great enthusiasm. You send him a look that you hope he understands as shut the fuck up. He doesn’t acknowledge your discomfort. Instead, he makes a heart shape with his hands, which adds to your annoyance.

Sirius presses a quick kiss to your temple, “Fuck off, mate. I know how to flirt with my girlfriend, right baby?” You freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief, while the boys laugh at your reaction. How exactly were you supposed to survive this?

You fall into a comfortable silence, happy to enjoy your breakfast as James issues his warnings to the boys, ensuring they behave themselves. Remus, with a subtle eye roll, acknowledges James’s words while Peter nods emphatically in agreement. While, Sirius simply outlines every embarrassing memory he plans to share with Lily.

“Y/n, get your man in check.” James complains in mock irritation, throwing a grape at Sirius, who dodges it.

“Good morning.” Lily greets quietly. You all turn to see her approaching, her expression a mix of embarrassment and hesitance, as if she’s debating whether to turn around and go to her usual spot down the table.

James abruptly stands up, his hip thumping into the table. He stifles a wince, trying to maintain his composure as he greets Lily, who tries unsuccessfully to suppress a smile at his reaction. Remus cringes and turns back to his breakfast, unable to look at James.

“Y’ready for this?” Sirius leans in, his voice lowered to a hushed tone meant only for you, effectively pulling you away from eavesdropping on James and Lily’s conversation. You glance up at him, surprised to find you’re a mere inches away from him.

You’re so close that you could individually count each of his eyelashes if you wanted.

You still feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate connection between the both of you.

It feels like a magnetic pull draws you closer, tempting you to tilt your head forward and touch his lips with yours. The urge to kiss him is so strong that it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

You clear your throat, attempting to push the thought from your mind. “I think so. We’re newly dating, so don’t go overboard with it.” You remind him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“When have I ever gone overboard with anything in my life?” The smile he gives you is teasing, and it makes your heart pound to have him this close, his eyes sparkling as he smiles at you.

You hum softly in response, “I can think of quite a few times.”

His voice carries a flirtatious tone, “Can you?”

“Good morning, Lily.” Peter’s gentle voice steals your attention away from Sirius. Disappointment and longing settle in his stomach as he watches you pull away and turn to greet Lily, that sweet smile now directed at her.

Lily settles between Peter and James. For a quick second, you feel a pang of jealousy because that’s your spot. But when you notice James’s pink cheeks and flustered expression, you forget all about it. All you want for James is for him to be happy, and having Lily near seems to do just that.

Breakfast goes smoothly. Lily fits seamlessly into your group, and you can tell it makes James giddy. He doesn’t even mind not getting to talk to Lily much. He simply enjoys seeing the girl he’s so hopelessly infatuated with getting along so well with his best friends.

You and Sirius aren’t acting much differently than you normally do, just sitting close to each other and chatting. However, when Lily turns to you and Sirius, a wave of nervousness washes over you.

“I was so excited to hear you guys were together!”

“Oh yeah? So you can finally go for James with a clear conscience?” Sirius grins, teasing Lily, who looks thoroughly embarrassed. You nudge Sirius in the side, and he responds by giving your hip a gentle squeeze. James sends Sirius an incredulous look, which he pointedly ignores. While Remus and Peter chuckle at the playful banter.

Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat; her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Uh, no, just that you two have obviously had feelings for each other for years. Everyone knew.”

You’re at a loss for words. Is that really what people thought? Clearly, they read you right, but you weren’t sure what to think about Sirius having feelings for you. Maybe he did, or maybe they were mistaking it for how he constantly flirted with you. But that was just how Sirius was; it didn’t necessarily mean he had romantic feelings for you.

“Haven’t gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.” Sirius says casually, his right elbow resting on the table as he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. His other arm remains securely wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side with a gentle yet firm embrace.

You look at him in shock, your eyes widening at his unexpected confession. Even the boys look slightly startled at Sirius’ words, their eyes darting between you and him.

“That’s so sweet.” Lily says softly, her eyes glowing with genuine happiness as she sends you a warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings but also stirs up guilt in the pit of your stomach. Lying always made you feel uneasy like a weight was pressing down on your chest.

“Sirius, I can’t believe you thought that she—“Lily begins, her voice trailing off as James interjects, his interruption tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Okay, love! I think I should walk you to class, don’t y’think?” James stands up from the table, extending his hand towards Lily.

Lily looks slightly confused, but she takes his hand nonetheless. As they walk away, James glances back and sends a wink in Sirius’ direction. Your attention immediately shifts to Sirius, curiosity written all over your face as you’re about to ask about Lily’s interrupted comment.

Sirius cuts you off before you can ask, shaking his head with a gentle smile and flushed cheeks, “Don’t even bother asking; I’m not telling you what she was talking about.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re curled up next to Peter on the common room couch, both of you chatting quietly together. For the last twenty minutes, he has been feeding you details about the Ravenclaw girl he has a crush on. He’s sworn you to secrecy. Hoping for your advice on asking her out without enduring the teasing of the rest of the Marauders. Your gasp of excitement nearly gives away the secret, but you quickly compose yourself, offering a reassuring smile to Peter.

“Who is she?” You ask, excitement laced in your voice, but Peter sends you an apprehensive look.

“I’m going to keep that to myself. Your squeal almost let the boys know..” He teases, though his tone also carries a note of seriousness.

A laugh escapes you, “I promise when you’re ready to tell me I’ll be so careful about keeping it a secret.”

“Oi! Are you two sharing secrets over there?” James calls out, his voice immensely curious. He’s sat with his back to the flickering flames, his palms flat against the floor as he leans back on them. Peter tenses beside you, but you maintain an easy smile. Remus and Sirius are lounging in the armchairs nearby, their attention piqued by the exchange.

“All my deepest darkest secrets.” You tease, flashing James a grin. He furrows his brow and sits up, clearly riled up by your response.

“Y/n, as your best friend, I better know all these secrets.” James lips are pouted, his expression tinged with a hint of concern, as if he’s genuinely worried that you and Peter are sharing secrets that he doesn’t know.

James has always been fiercely protective of your friendship. Despite being close to the boys, your bond with James was stronger. There was nothing that the two of you didn’t confide in each other; he honestly did know all your secrets.

“You do.” You smile reassuringly, and James’s expression breaks into a satisfied grin.

The boys continue their soft conversation by the crackling fire, the warm glow casting flickering shadows across the room, while you and Peter sit in comfortable silence. Both of you are lost in thought as you relax in the cozy atmosphere.

After stifling a good five yawns, you glance at the time and decide it’s probably best to head to your room, the quiet of the common room signaling just how late it had gotten.

You inch closer to Peter, before finding the courage to lean over and envelop him in a friendly hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

He’s momentarily taken aback, his body tenses at your touch, but soon he relaxes, reciprocating by wrapping you in his arms. It’s a gesture that feels somewhat out of character for you, but after he trusted you with his secret, it seems like the most natural thing to do, a silent affirmation of support for him.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” You tell him softly, “But I promise we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.” He smiles at you as you pull away. You grab your bag and make your way in the direction of the stairs.

“Goodnight boys!” You call out softly over your shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. Sirius watches you go, his gaze lingering on your figure, his thoughts full of you long after you’ve left the room.

Ever since you moved to hug Peter, his eyes have been on you, curiosity and jealousy settling in his stomach.

“Why the hell did you get a hug?” Sirius asks, his tone laced with bitterness as his gaze shifts to Peter, who appears taken aback by Sirius’ sudden question. Remus and James exchange amused glances, before they refocus their attention on Peter, waiting expectantly for an explanation to ease the tension.

“I don’t know, she just hugged me.” Peter squirms uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence quickly dwindling as he’s put on the spot.

Sirius nods slowly, his lips pursing in contemplation. His carefully measured tone betrays the longing and a hint of possessiveness that he struggles to conceal, “What were you guys talking about over there?”

Remus interjects with a teasing tone, “Careful, Pads. You sound jealous.” A playful glint dances in his eyes as he notices Sirius’ furrowed brows and the discontent on his face.

“He’s got the boyfriend role down.” James quips, and Sirius sends them both a glare.

“I’m not jealous,” Sirius repeats quite grumpily. “I just don’t understand why Peter got a hug, and we didn’t.”

James barks out a laugh while Remus shakes his head, a chuckle escaping him in sheer disbelief.

“You’re jealous because you have feelings for her.” James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius begins to shake his head in denial, but Remus promptly interjects, his voice firm and unwavering, “’ Haven’t gotten her out of my head since the day I met her.’ What the fuck was that then?” Remus repeats Sirius’ words from the other day, perfectly mimicking his tone.

James bursts into laughter, the sound hearty and infectious, while Peter offers a small smile, observing Sirius as he struggles to respond.

“Not to mention, you’ve been staring Peter down ever since Y/n touched him.” Remus remarks while Sirius gazes blankly at him, his expression unreadable as he nervously chews on his bottom lip.

“You really have.” Peter adds with a grimace.

“You like her, mate.” Remus concludes, his words carrying a sense of finality that lingers in the air.

Sirius sighs heavily.

The conversation weighs heavily on him as he sinks down in the armchair, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The boys’ words replay in his mind. He was jealous, and he did like you. He already knew all of this. But he had always been cautious around you, mindful of the unspoken boundaries because of your friendship with James. A nagging worry in the back of his mind that James would be against any relationship between the two of you. James was his greatest friend, and he worried he could lose him if he attempted to go for you. The idea of James being unfazed by a romantic relationship between you and Sirius threw him off balance. It vastly differed from the scenarios he had envisioned, where James would react with fierce anger upon learning of Sirius’ affection for you. The realization left Sirius feeling torn. Did that mean he could actually go for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

As the air is warm and balmy, birdsong emanating from the trees while the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. The sun casts everything in a golden haze, letting you know summer is near. The boys are certain of their decision: today is the perfect day to spend at the lake.

Laughter and chatter echo across the shimmering waters as the boys swim around the lake, reaching where you’re draped over a soft towel next to Lily. You have been trading gossip back and forth for the last couple of hours. It’s refreshing since usually you’re glued to the boys’ sides. You were constantly in the company of at least one of the four.

You feel a twinge of regret in your chest, realizing you haven’t made an effort to have a close friendship with the girls. And you really should have. It wasn’t a deliberate choice; James had always been your go-to person. Then, when you met the boys, you naturally formed close bonds with them, too. The thought of branching out and making more friends never really crossed your mind.

Though you value your friendships with the boys, you decide you desperately need to spend more time with the girls. The possibility of James and Lily getting together has you hopeful.

“You realize Sirius can’t take his eyes off you, right?” You choose to remain silent, only giving a shrug, fully aware that Sirius is merely pretending to be in love with you. To his credit, he’s played the part convincingly throughout the entire week. There have been moments when you’ve found yourself questioning the authenticity of his actions, wondering whether his affection is genuine or merely his acting skills.

For someone who hasn’t had much practice with relationships, he possessed an innate ability to treat you like you were the only girl in his world. Whether it was a reassuring hand on your lower back as you maneuvered through the crowded halls, a tender kiss planted on your forehead when you parted ways, or the subtle exchange of flirty smiles whenever your eyes met across the room.

Sirius’ laughter drifts over from the lake, reaching your ears, and a subconscious smile graces your lips. Lily must have seen your reaction, “Merlin, you really like him, don’t you?”

It was driving you to the brink of obsession. If this was the experience of being Sirius’ girl, you wanted it more than before.

Despite your efforts to contain it, a sigh slips from your lips, “Yeah, I really do.”

Confessing this feels uncomfortable. You’ve never talked to anyone about the depth of your feelings for Sirius, and now you’re doing so under the guise of a fake relationship. You had come close to telling James, but you really didn’t need to. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. Guilt churns in your stomach once more as you think about lying to Lily. What will her reaction be when you reveal that you and Sirius were never actually together?

The silence lingers for a few moments before you gently break it, “What were you about to say at breakfast the other day? Before James interrupted?”

Lily’s expression shifts from confusion to excitement, her eyes lighting up, “Oh, in Charms! I finally wrangled it out of Sirius that he had feelings for you. But he insisted that nothing was ever going to happen because you didn’t like him back.”

It feels like you’ve been plunged into a tub of cold water. Your mind goes momentarily blank, a surge of disbelief flooding your senses as you struggle to comprehend Lily’s words. Your body freezes in place, grappling with what this could possibly mean. There’s no possible way you heard her correctly.

“What? When was this?” Your voice escapes breathless and startled, yet Lily appears oblivious to it.

“Just a couple of weeks ago! I’m so glad he finally told you how he felt.” Lily smiles sweetly before laying back on her towel. If she notices you’re in a state of shock, she doesn’t say anything.

You hear a whistle, and no surprise, your best friend throws himself between you and Lily, “Don’t you two look pretty!”

Lily gasps as James leans down, playfully pressing his lips against her cheek, his hair dripping water onto her. Though she protests, you both can tell she doesn’t truly mind it.

As James and Lily become wrapped up in their own world, you find yourself drifting back to the conversation from a moment ago. Your mind spins, still muddled by Lily’s words. Sirius had feelings for you. Why hadn’t he spoken up? Did he not want anything to come of it?

Your heart nearly stops when Sirius drops down and hovers over you, his hands propping him up on either side of your head. You barely register that he’s shirtless and above you just before icy water cascades from his hair onto your skin. A startled cry escapes you as the cold droplets trickle down your cheeks, tracing a chilling path along your neck and chest.

“Sirius Black!” You had intended to sound angry, but laughter slips past your lips, betraying your emotions. Sirius grins at your reaction, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to shamelessly check out the bikini top you have on.

The boys had been teasing him relentlessly after witnessing how he practically fell to his knees when you walked into the common room wearing a bikini top and tiny denim shorts. You were oblivious to his gaze, heading straight for Lily and conversing about who knows what.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you all day.

He feigns ignorance as you whine at him, responding with a sweet smile instead, “What?”

“Get off!” You squeal, though your tone lacks any real irritation. Deep down, you’re secretly enjoying having him so close, enveloping you in his presence.

“Whatever you want, sweet girl.” He mutters as he rolls off of you, repositioning himself so he’s sitting behind you. With a gentle tap on your shoulder, he prompts you to sit up, then guides you until your back hits his chest. Once you’re settled, he loosely wraps his arms around your shoulders before placing a kiss on your head.

Remus catches your eye as he and Peter make their way to their towels. Unlike Sirius and James, they hadn’t hurried over to you and Lily. Instead, they took their time, chatting lazily while the sun warmed their skin. Remus sends you a sly, suggestive glance, and you respond by narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

Sirius and Remus engage in their own conversation, their voices blending into the background as Peter gestures for you to follow him. Sirius protests lightly, his eyes following you as you pull away from him to walk down to the lake with Peter.

You’re gone for no more than twenty minutes, offering Peter advice on establishing a friendship with the girl he likes, perhaps making it easier for him to ask her out in the future.

Despite Remus’ attempts to draw him back into the conversation, Sirius remains preoccupied, his gaze fixed on you until you eventually return and settle onto the towel beside him, seeking the familiar comfort of his presence. Only then does Sirius relax, draping his arm around you protectively.

He despises the twinge of jealousy that creeps in every time Peter has you to himself.

“Mate, you’re fucked.” Remus chuckles, and you assume it’s due to something amusing said during their conversation. Sirius simply rolls his eyes and playfully extends his middle finger in Remus’ direction, a gesture of mock annoyance that elicits a smirk from both of them.

The rest of the afternoon is spent wrapped up in Sirius as you chat with your friends and bask in the sun.

You spend the remainder of the afternoon draped over Sirius, basking in the warmth of the sun as you chat with your friends. It’s been a while since you’ve felt so at ease.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After lounging by the lake all afternoon, the thought of cleaning up for a party you had little interest in attending felt like an unnecessary chore. However, after an hour of James’ persistent pleading, you eventually gave in and agreed to go. You were confused about why he insisted on your presence, especially when he’d be busy spending the evening with Lily. You couldn’t help but think you could have been snug in bed with a good book instead.

“How long do you think it will take before they get together?” You turn to Remus, who is leaning against the wall next to you. He wasn’t thrilled about coming tonight, either. The full moon was approaching, and he could already feel the effects beginning to take hold.

You scan the bustling room, eager to catch a glimpse of James and determine Lily’s proximity. Impatience simmers within you as you wait for them to get together. Their relationship seems overdue, and you’re desperate for it to happen, bringing an end to the relationship you and Sirius are forced to maintain. Though being Sirius’ girlfriend has its perks, the artificiality of the situation weighs on your conscience.

After a lazy afternoon enveloped in Sirius’ arms, you had returned to your room feeling unsettled. The comfort of being held by Sirius felt genuine, yet it was all fake, and that realization deeply unsettles you. The longer this relationship goes on, the more you worry about your heart being left in pieces at the end.

“Probably any day now. Why? You aren’t having fun being Sirius’ girl?” Remus asks, casting a knowing smirk in your direction. You huff and give him a playful nudge, causing his drink to slosh around in his cup. He chuckles in response, amused by your reaction.

“It’s not that, and you know it.” You respond, frustration evident in your tone.

Remus turns towards you, a genuine smile on his face this time, “You guys are doing quite the job of looking infatuated with each other.”

You shoot him a warning look, sensing where the conversation is headed.

But Remus persists, his gaze steady, “You should consider telling him how you feel.”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? What have you got to lose?”

You meet his gaze, incredulous, “Our friendship, for starters.”

Remus shakes his head, “Do you really think Sirius would end your friendship? I doubt you could get rid of him if you tried.”

You meet Remus’s gaze, your brow furrowed with uncertainty, “Okay, maybe he wouldn’t end our friendship. But things would definitely get awkward, and who knows where it could lead.”

Remus offers a small smile, “Or it could go well. You could end up together.”

You remain silent, the weight of Remus’s words sinking in as you contemplate the idea of confessing your feelings to Sirius. Your stomach churns with anxiety at the mere thought of opening up to him. The fear of rejection and the potential fallout from confessing weighs heavy on your chest.

But Lily had shared with you that Sirius had opened up about his feelings for you. Maybe there was a possibility that confessing your own feelings might not be as far-fetched as you had assumed. Maybe being with Sirius wasn’t entirely out of reach.

Remus observes the slight furrow in your brow as you chew on your bottom lip, a clear indication of your spiraling thoughts. The dim light of the common room highlights the unease on your face. “Do you want a drink?” He offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.

You pause, considering his offer, grateful for the distraction, “Yes, please.” You respond with a small smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

As Remus leaves to fetch you a drink, you’re left alone with your thoughts, the chatter and laughter of the crowded common room serving as a backdrop to your contemplation. Your eyes wander over the sea of bodies, each occupied with their own conversations and activities, creating a lively yet chaotic atmosphere.

“Y/n, hi!” You startle as Max Townsend stands beside you, his sudden presence catching you off guard. You recall being partners in Charms a couple of weeks ago, but beyond that, your interactions had been limited.

“Hey, Max.” You greet with a soft smile, noticing how his shoulders relax slightly at your acknowledgment. He settles against the wall, his posture casual yet attentive, as if genuinely interested in chatting with you.

“I know we haven’t talked much since Charms, but I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.” Max says, his voice earnest as he breaks the silence between you.

You’re surprised by his remark, “You have?” You ask, genuine curiosity coloring your tone.

“Yeah! I enjoyed spending time with you.” Max admits, his voice slightly shaky as he offers you a shy smile. You notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks, a sign of nervousness.

“I enjoyed spending time with you too! I don’t think I could have passed the last exam without your help.” You respond sincerely, returning his smile with warmth. His face lights up at your words, visibly relieved.

He regains some confidence and continues, “Actually, Y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade sometime?”

Your smile falters, and you feel a pang of guilt. You have the excuse of having a boyfriend, at least. It makes things a little easier for you. For a second, you debate if you should say yes, go on a date, and move past your feelings for Sirius. But then you think about Lily’s words and how he might possibly like you back. Not only that but you’re supposed to be in a relationship right now.

You can’t bring yourself to say yes; truth be told, you don’t really want to, anyway.

“That’s really sweet of you to ask. But I’m dating Sirius.” You reply though the words feel heavy on your tongue, wishing they were true.

Max looks taken aback, “Sirius Black?”

“Yes.” You confirm, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over you; turning someone down is always an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

Max shakes his head, looking confused, “I didn’t know Sirius-“

“You didn’t know what, Townsend?” Sirius looks hard at him, slipping his arm around your waist and handing you a drink. “Here, baby, Rem said you wanted a drink.”

You thank him quietly, settling into his side with ease. Glancing up at him, you notice Sirius isn’t looking at you; his gaze is fixed on Max. His jaw clenches tightly, and his usual friendly smile is absent. The message to Max is clear: back off, she’s mine.

Max looks uneasy, eyes darting from you to Sirius, “Uh, I didn’t know you and Y/n were together.”

“And why were you talking about that?”

“Uh,” Max looks at you briefly, his expression tinged with panic. He lets out a sigh, reminiscent of a child caught in the act and resigned to confessing. “I asked her out.”

Sirius’ entire body tenses, his tone laced with mock curiosity, “Did you?”

He feels sick at the thought of you going on a date with another guy. Images flash through his mind – Max holding your hand on a walk through Hogsmeade, flirting with you over dinner, and the possibility of him kissing you goodnight before you head back through the portrait at the end of the night.

A surge of intense emotion floods him, an overwhelming desire to lash out, to throw a punch and convey the unmistakable message that you are off-limits.

But then the reality hits him: you’re not off limits. You’re perfectly single, and maybe you actually wanted to go out with Max. The realization sinks in, gnawing at him from the inside, intensifying the ache in his chest.

“But look, man, I didn’t know she was your girl! Honest.”

“Max, it’s okay. Really.” You interject gently, offering him a reassuring smile. Max nods frantically, clearly relieved, before hurrying off in the opposite direction and disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to Sirius, but he refuses to meet your gaze. Instead, he drops his arm from your waist and leans back against the wall, taking a long sip from his drink, his expression unreadable.

“Playing the part of your boyfriend. You should go find James, he was looking for you.” His mutterings reach your ears, and your stomach clenches with irritation as hurt flashes over your features. He’s never shut down before you, and it hurts your feelings deeply.

You don’t bother saying anything; instead, you scoff and walk away. Sirius’s eyes follow you the second you leave, watching as you walk away with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

Maybe he did need to express his feelings to you. There might be a chance that you felt the same way. And if you didn’t, at least he would know and could attempt to move on from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I think you need to check on Sirius.” James murmurs into your ear as you stand in the common room, waiting for Lily to join you. You’re flanked by the boys, but Sirius is conspicuously absent.

You glance over at him, confused, “Why? Is he not coming down?”

“He bailed, said he isn’t feeling good.”

“He isn’t coming to Hogsmeade with us?” You all had meticulously planned your trip to Hogsmeade during the lake outing yesterday, discussing the shops you wanted to visit and the Butterbeer you couldn’t wait to taste.

“Oh,” You mutter, “I’ll check on him and catch up with you guys then.”

You still harbor concern for his well-being, a lingering sense of care that remains despite the the frustration you feel about last night. You ascend the stairs, faintly catching Peter’s inquiry about your destination and James’ response that you won’t be joining them anymore. You contemplate turning around, half-tempted to inquire with James about his statement, but decided against it, choosing not to waste your energy.

You’re so deeply immersed in your thoughts as you walk through the hall that you don’t even notice the sound at first.

The muffled noise filtering through the boys’dorm door catches your attention, causing you to pause in front of the door. You briefly entertain the idea that Sirius might be genuinely unwell, but skepticism lingers in your mind. The persistent groans don’t quite fit the pattern of someone who’s just sick.

You were on the verge of turning around, genuinely considering it, until you caught a muffled moan that distinctly sounded like your name.

You pause, questioning the authenticity of what you just heard, wondering if it was a figment of your imagination or if you truly heard your name. But then you hear it, “Fuck, Y/n. Feels so good.”

Your legs turn to jelly, the words coursing through your veins like an electric shock, leaving you feeling stunned and breathless.

Without a second thought or even a plan forming in your mind, you find yourself knocking on the door. Inside, you hear a muffled curse followed by shuffling before Sirius swings the door open nearly a minute later, clad only in pajama pants. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he’s breathing heavily. The surprise on his face is evident as he takes in your unexpected presence.

“What were you just doing?” Your words spill out more confrontationally than you intended, catching Sirius off guard. The surprise flickers across his face, evident in how his eyebrows knit together and his eyes widen slightly.

“Uh, I-” He glances back into his room, searching for a believable excuse among his belongings. Flustered, he struggles to come up with a convincing lie.

“Sirius,” You press, and his eyes flicker back to you. He appears guilty, aware that you’ve caught on. “I just heard you.”You add, your tone that is firm but not accusatory.

“Merlin, Y/n. I’m sorry I-” He stammers, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of you possibly feeling disgusted with him or worse, refusing to remain his friend because of what he’s just done.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask instead, taking a deliberate step closer to him. The room feels charged with tension, and you can sense Sirius’s unease. His breath hitches as your presence draws nearer, his eyes flickering with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

He glances over your shoulder, his gaze flicking to the empty hallway outside before he answers, “You.”

“Me?” You take a tentative step closer, your voice barely a whisper compared to before, its tone huskier, laden with curiosity and perhaps a hint of intrigue. You fix him with a daring look, a glint of challenge in your eye, as if silently daring him to take action.

He remains silent, his gaze fixed on you for a fleeting moment before he takes action, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the dorm without a word.

As soon as the door shuts, he presses you against the door, his movements swift and urgent. You let out a gasp in surprise, feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere as Sirius’s intensity envelops you. His eyes, usually filled with mischief, now bore into yours with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability.

“Y/n. Why did you knock on the door?”

You don’t answer at first, your eyes locked with his for a few heartbeats before you let out a sigh, “Because I heard you say my name, and now I know you want me the same way that I’ve always wanted you.”

Sirius doesn’t hesitate, his lips meeting yours with a sense of urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. The moment his touch connects with yours, you exhale softly, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours. With gentle pressure, you draw him closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while Sirius’ embrace envelops you, pulling you closer as if he never wants to let go.

He initiates with a tender kiss on your lips, then gently nibbles on your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp. Seizing the opportunity of your parted lips, he intensifies the kiss, pressing forcefully into your mouth. Sirius kisses you as if each moment is the first and last time, molding you into pliancy. You willingly surrender, allowing him to kiss you into a state of blissful oblivion.

As he withdraws, a soft whimper escapes your lips in protest. He casts a questioning glance your way as he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you respond with a nod of affirmation. Slowly, he peels it off of you and lets it drop at your feet. Shamelessly, he admires your breasts and how they sit so pretty in your black bra. For a moment, the thought of apologizing for the simple garment crosses your mind, but the way his gaze lingers on you halts any inclination to do so.

He leans down, pressing kisses and nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and trailing his way down to your chest. It steals your breath away, prompting you to weave your fingers through his hair as you tilt your head back, reveling in the sensation. He’s murmuring praises against your skin, ranting about how beautiful you are, how sweet your moans are, and how you drive him crazy. Your heart pounds within your chest, and for an instant, you fear its thunderous rhythm might betray you, considering how near he stands.

“Take it off.” In a hushed tone, you speak, prompting Sirius’s gaze to swiftly rise and lock with yours.

He encircles you with his arms, quickly undoing your bra, and you deftly push the straps down, allowing the garment to cascade down, unveiling your skin. Swiftly, you toss it into the growing pile that appears to be taking shape by the door.

Sirius gazes intently, his bottom lip captured between his teeth, and a subtle furrow forms between his eyebrows, “Fucking hell, y’have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.”

Before you can utter a word, his mouth is on your breasts. Pressing the softest kisses onto your nipple before gently biting it, causing your breath to hitch. He bends down, mirroring the gesture with the other one.

His hands, possessively grip at your hips, act as anchors, momentarily keeping you in place. However, a growing restlessness takes hold, and you start to squirm, a subtle plea for more of his attention. Silently comprehending your unspoken desire, he wordlessly responds. A gentle tug on your hand is all the communication needed, and without a moment’s hesitation, you obediently follow his lead.

Guiding you, he directs you to settle onto his bed, a silent request you readily heed. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you rely on your elbows to bear all your weight.

Sirius kneels in front of you, easily slipping off both of your shoes and tossing them to the side. He reaches up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your skirt before tugging it down and off of your legs. You’re left in a pair of gray panties that easily show how soaked you are for him.

He pushes on your knees until your legs are completely spread for him, and he can get a clear view of your soaked underwear. A hushed curse escapes his lips, the words slipping out quietly as his gaze lingers on you.

“You’re fucking stunning. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. To deserve you.” You bask in his words, your body thrumming with warmth and delight as his sweet sentiments wash over you.

He glances up at you, and he nearly loses it right then and there. You’re watching him through hooded eyes, your pupils dilated wide, a silent reflection of your anticipation and desire. He doubts he could ever erase the image of the way you’re gazing at him, etching it into his memory with the fervent wish to witness it for the rest of his days.

He caresses his hands along your thighs, fingers gently squeezing and kneading with each pass. Occasionally, he leans down, planting tender kisses on your sensitive skin, each one a whispered promise of affection. The closer he gets to your core, the more you squirm and let out soft whimpers.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, glancing up at you from between your thighs. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit, and you jolt in surprise.

A gasp escapes your lips as you’re overtaken by the sensation, yet swiftly, you find yourself nodding frantically in response, “Please.”

Overrun with desperation, Sirius pulls at them with such fervor that they nearly tear as he tugs them off. You can’t help but giggle at his fervor, amused by his frantic actions and the unmistakable look of pure desire written across his face. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling, staring the sight of your glistening pussy.

“I want to be inside of you.” He declares, standing up from the floor, leaning over you to firmly grasp your jaw before capturing your lips in a heady, intoxicating kiss. The moan that escapes you sounds so foreign, so unlike yourself, that it catches you by surprise, leaving you momentarily taken aback. You don’t bother vying for dominance, allowing him to take control of the kiss. He withdraws from you leaving your chest heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Take your pants off.” You demand, reaching desperately for the band of his pajamas to shove them off. Sirius beats you to the task, swiftly shoving them off himself in a display of impatience.

“Sirius.” Drool pools in your mouth at the sight of him. Long, thick, and pretty. Your lips part slightly, and you look up at Sirius in surprise, caught off guard by him. For a fleeting moment, you sit there, eyes locked, contemplating whether you’ll be able to take him or not. He’s bigger than anyone you have ever been with before.

Sirius doesn’t let you stare for too long before his fingers are sliding through your soaked folds and brushing over your clit. Whimpers and moans tumble past your lips as Sirius rubs firm circles over you to get you adjusted before dipping down and pressing two fingers into you. A cry escapes you at the intrusion, and your hand instinctively reaches down to grip his bicep firmly.

Sirius startles you by leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your clit, before licking you the bundle of nerves softly. Your body tenses with pleasure, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” He confesses a surge of heat courses through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you absorb his words. He doesn’t waste another second before leaning down and gently sucking on your clit.

“Please don’t stop.” You plead softly, and Sirius complies, continuing with unwavering determination. He nips and sucks, licking through your folds and holding your thighs open for him. His fingers continue to slide in and out of you; the sounds you’re making are obscene.

You’re struck by the thojught that this doesn’t compare to any other times that you’ve been eaten out. But maybe it’s not just his technique that feels good; it might be the fact that its Sirius who’s between your legs.

Your thighs tremble, and a euphoric sensation begins to build up in your stomach, making it feel like you are floating on a delightful high.

“Sirius, I need you.” You gasp sharply, your fingers instinctively tugging on his hair, signaling for him to ease up. You wanted to come together for your first time, as cheesy as it may have been.

As he rises to his feet, your eyes meet, and contagious, goofy smiles spread across both of your faces. In this shared moment, a mutual understanding passes between you—acknowledging the absurdity of the situation yet reveling in the fact that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

You watch as he wraps his hand around himself, dragging his hand up and down a few times. He whispers for you to scoot back until your head rests against the pillow, and with a gentle nod, you comply. He follows suit, settling on his haunches before you, creating a comforting, intimate space between you both.

“Y’ready?” He asks in a hushed tone, leaning in to hover over you, and at that moment, a rush of memories floods your mind, reminiscent of yesterday by the lake. You’re convinced you must look rather pathetic with the speed of your nod, but Sirius only responds with a sweet smile.

With a grip on his cock, he slides the tip through your slick, both of you sucking in a breath at the sensation. He gently pushes at your entrance. Sirius steals a glance up at you, silently seeking reassurance, and you respond with a simple nod and a warm smile, letting him know that everything is perfect. Sirius catches you off guard as he leans down, tenderly pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips, a gesture filled with unexpected sweetness.

His gaze shifts, watching as he pushes his cock inside of you, letting out a string of curses as your pussy grips him tight, pulling him deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Gritting his teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his nose, determined to regain control and prevent himself from losing composure. He’s sitting fully inside you, and he has to take a breather because you feel better than he could have ever imagined. The last thing he wants is for this to end as soon as it begins.

His voice sounds utterly shattered, “You’re so wet, fuck.”

You entwine your fingers in his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingertips as you pull him closer, urging him to meet your lips with his own. The anticipation builds as his warm breath mingles with yours, creating an intimate connection before the gentle press of his lips against yours. Parting your lips, you deepen the kiss, and Sirius eagerly reciprocated.

“Sirius. Fuck me, please.” You exhale softly against his lips, and Sirius responds with a low, guttural groan of longing and desire.

He doesn’t waste any time before dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your pussy, before thrusting back into you, “God, your pussy feels incredible.” The cry that escapes you resonates loudly in the room, and you’re immensely grateful that everyone is out at Hogsmeade. The absence of others allows you the freedom to be as uninhibited as you are, knowing that the full dorms would never afford you the same level of privacy and volume.

“Feels so good.” You gasp, head rolling to the side, your cheek resting against the pillows. Sirius’ hands rest against the back of your thighs, holding your legs against your chest, giving a clear view of the way his cock is so seamlessly slipping inside of you.

He watches you, transfixed on the way your brows pinch together in pleasure, lips parting to let moans slip past. It’s as if a dam has burst within Sirius, an unstoppable torrent of words and emotions pouring forth as he finds himself unable to contain everything he’s been holding back.

“Fuck, you sound s’pretty, sweet girl,” The groan that leaves his lips is downright sinful. “Thought about this pretty pussy all day. Pretended to be sick just to get off to the thought of you.”

“Sirius.” You whine, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair and pull him down to you. You’re soaked and aching, desperate for Sirius to fuck you faster. However, much to your disappointment, he remains insistent on maintaining a slow, teasing pace.

“Pictured tugging that fucking bikini top down. Watching your tits bounce while I fuck you. Fuck, cumming all over them.” The whine that escapes you feels pathetic, and under different circumstances, you would’ve been embarrassed by it. However, given the situation you’re in, embarrassment takes a backseat.

“I know, baby. I know.” He complies, adjusting his position so that his right arm supports him above you while his left hand gently traces your skin. Brushing over your nipples, trailing up and over your tits, before placing his hand loosely around the base of your throat.

“You’re fucking perfect,” He grunts, admiring how ruined you look for him. Your mascara smudged beneath your eyes from tears, and your lips swollen from his earlier kisses. He loved seeing you like this. Being the one to ruin you, to smudge your makeup and bring you to tears. “Taking my cock s’well.”

You’re incoherent, begging for Sirius to go harder, to fuck you faster. Hands pawing at his ass, desperately trying to bring him closer.

His hand squeezes your throat gently, “Tell me you want me to fuck you harder. C’mon love, wanna hear you beg for it.”

A smug grin tugs on Sirius’ lips as he watches you struggling to form words. You’re getting close if the way you’re squeezing him so tight and rolling your hips is any indicator.

But then a desperate, needy whine with the words he so badly wants to hear slips past your lips. Babbling about needing his cock and wanting him to ruin you. The second he hears your pleas, he thrusts into you harder, setting a brutal new pace that has you crying for him.

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, m’love.” He speaks so sincerely that you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside, an overwhelming urge threatening to bring tears to your eyes.

Overcome with your emotions, you reach for Sirius’ hand and interlace them together before Sirius presses your clasped hands into the sheets. His headboard thumps against the wall rhythmically.

“Need you to fill me up. Please.” You plead desperately, and Sirius curses, his voice rough and strained.

“Shit, that’s my girl. Want me to fill you with my cum?” It’s the praise that pushes you over the edge. Your back arches, pressing your breasts into Sirius’ chest and your legs tremble.

“Doing so good f’me.” He’s close behind you. Your tight, wet walls clenching around him is what does it for him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum. Fuck.” Sirius moans, burying his head in the crook of your neck as his hips stutter and you cry out at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up. You clench his hand tightly, your nails likely leaving imprints on his skin. A sob escapes your lips, and your fingers weave through his hair, a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

You both remain entwined, lost in each other’s embrace as you gradually come down from the euphoric highs. The room resonates with the sound of your intertwined breaths, each one heavy and labored. Your body feels utterly slack, every muscle loosened, and you’re so relaxed that you could easily doze off at any moment.

Sirius presses a couple of tender kisses against your neck, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. When he withdraws from you, a wince escapes you as you feel the separation, and Sirius’ eyes dart up to you in concern.

“Y’okay, sweet girl?”

“I’m okay, just sore.” You grace him with a sweet smile, and Sirius leans in, gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gonna get a towel, one second.” He assures you, rising from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. You listen to the faucet running and the faint sounds of the cupboard opening and closing. Lying back, you gaze up at the ceiling, absently nibbling on your thumbnail until a smile breaks across your face at the thought of what just happened.

“Here, love.” Sirius says, sitting on the edge of the bed holding a washcloth in his hand. He’s got a fresh pair of pajamapants on, you didn’t even notice him grab clothes from his trunk, too lost in your thoughts.

Sirius gently grips your ankle, encouraging you to spread your legs. His breath hitches at the sight of his cum dripping out of you and onto his sheets, desperately hoping to see this sight again. He murmurs a curse under his breath, his touch gentle as he delicately uses the warm washcloth to clean between your thighs.

“There.” He whispers softly before aiding you to sit up. As you glance over, you notice the t-shirt and pajama pants laid out beside him, meant for you. Your heart swells with warmth as he assists you in slipping it over your head. With a grateful smile, you slide into the pajama pants. Meanwhile, Sirius utters evanesco to fix the sheets up, before joining you in bed.

“C’mere.” He beckons to you, sinking into the pillows, and you nestle against him, finding solace as you rest your head on his chest.

In the silence, you both relish the comfort of each other’s embrace, enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy. Lost in contemplation, your mind wanders, grappling with what just happened and what that meant for the both of you.

“That wasn’t just a one-time thing, was it?” You inquire, the hopefulness evident in your tone.

“No,” Sirius responds, tilting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “I want you to be mine, for real this time.”

The fluttering butterflies that dance through your stomach are overwhelming as you absorb his words. A lovesick grin spreads across your lips, unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, “Then I’m all yours.”

You settle back into Sirius, and his arms hold you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lull you into a serene state, the sound of his steady heartbeat serving as a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’m sorry, so you asked us to fake it not for Lily, but for Sirius and I to get together?” You gaze at James, confused, knitting your brows, while he sits opposite you at the table. Remus and Sirius are absorbed in their own conversation, and Peter is having breakfast with the girl he harbors a crush on. Despite their current status as friends, Peter seems overjoyed nonetheless.

James grins, casting you a smug look. “I mean, Lily genuinely thought you and I were a thing. At first, it really was because Lily thought we were together, but then I realized that this was the perfect way to get you and Sirius together.”

“James! So you lied to us?” You huff in disbelief.

James shrugs nonchalantly, his demeanor radiating an air of casual indifference, “You already knew I lied to Lily; what’s the difference?”

You sigh softly, “That’s true, but what about you and Lily? Are you two getting together?”

James smiles, “We’ll get there eventually. This was more about you and Sirius. And before you start, yes, I’ll tell her the truth.” He sends you a pointed look, and you chuckle, already preparing to remind him to come clean to Lily.

“You’re certifiably insane.” You tease, exhaling a laugh.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? You got the guy.” James watches with delight as a lovesick smile effortlessly graces your face before you steal a glance at Sirius.

“Oh, hey. Pick up your clothes next time you’re napping with Sirius,” He remarks casually, but the emphasis on the word napping lets you know that he’s fully aware there was more happening than just sleep. “My shoe got tangled in your bra.”

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