#maurauders x reader

[wastingmylifesecondatatime]

UPDATE: 09.09.2023

NOTE: If you have any fic suggestions feel free to write me! You can find other masterlists in  my mother masterlist

I have updated the following masterlists:

Harry Potter: Marauders Era

Criminal Minds

Marvel: Avengers Masterlist

[etfrin]

NSFW

- - -

mean husband!Regulus Black who swears that every time he spills his cum into you, it's just his duty as a Lord so you can give him his pureblood heir. It's not because of how cute the dress looked on you and it would look even cuter on you when you're pregnant.

mean husband!Regulus Black who gets hard when you smile at him so prettily and wants to wreck you whenever you insult him ten times worse than he does. you're not afraid of him, he loves that. Thrives on the fact that he can make your bratty mouth drool with his fingers and tongue only.

mean husband!Regulus Black who loves you, truly loves you but won't ever admit it out loud unless you're unconscious from a heavy session of getting bred and he kisses your forehead, oh so gently, and whispers, "My darling, my love." He kisses your cheek, "Oh, how you have my heart, sweet." He is unaware of the fact that sometimes you're aware and that you hear his words and it just makes you fall harder for him every time.

[loveyouprongs]

overnight rush

authors note: using the "Oh, look at the stars! Ursa Major… so beautiful!" "We're inside. Those are just ceiling lights." prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting

upcoming content: fluff!! alcohol mention, james is drunk. food mention.

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

James is practically a furnace draped over you, all heavy limbs and warm breath against your neck. His arm is slung across your shoulders, the other flopping uselessly at his side as he stumbles through the hallway with you bearing most of his weight. Every step is an exercise in patience and balance.

"You're really strong, y'know that?" James slurs, giggling into your hair. "Like... like a dragon. No, wait. A... a really buff flower. My strong flower.”

"I wouldn’t have to be if you could walk straight," you huff, fumbling with your keys as he leans more heavily into you. "James, for Merlin’s sake — can you stand up for two seconds?"

"Standing is overrated," he declares dramatically. "Besides, this is nice. I like this." He tightens his arm around you, swaying on his feet. "You’re warm. An' soft. Like... like a pillow." He tucks his face further into your neck, standing at an angle that can hardly be comfortable given the many inches of height he has on you. Yet, he practically purrs with content as one of his hands snakes up underneath your top, fingers skating across your waist making you giggle.

"James," you try to sound firm, but the way he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck makes it come out more like a laugh. "Stop distracting me. I’m trying to get the door open."

"M'not distracting you," he says, grinning against your skin. "I’m being supportive. 'S different."

You manage to wrestle the door open and practically drag him inside, kicking it shut behind you. James stumbles over his feet and flops onto the couch, arms spread wide, looking up at the ceiling with wide eyes. He jolts up as quickly as he fell down.

"Oh look! The stars!" he gasps, pointing dramatically upward. "Ursa Major... so beautiful." James stumbled in a dazed formation, totally in awe of the “night sky” that shined above him.

You blink at him. "James, those are the ceiling lights."

He frowns, squinting. "Whaaaat? No, they’re stars. Look!" He lifts his hand, tracing invisible constellations in the air. "See? The Big Dipper’s right there, silly girl!”

You bite back a laugh. "We put those up, remember? The little glow-in-the-dark stickers you insisted we buy last month? You said every flat needed its own night sky."

James gasps, staring at you like you’ve just shared the secret of life itself. "That was us? No way. We’re brilliant,” he let out with a bewildered whisper, now sitting cross legged on the rug, his stare darting between you and the stars. He couldn’t decide which view amazed him more.

"Mmhmm." You crouch beside him, brushing a curl from his forehead. "Our apartment, remember? We can do whatever we want with it."

His face softens, and his eyes go all melty and fond. "Our apartment," he repeats dreamily, reaching out to poke your nose. "That’s so cool. You and me. Living together."

"Yes, love. That’s what happens when people move in together."

James hums contentedly, flopping onto his side and curling into the cushions. "Best decision I ever made. Apart from falling in love with you."

You roll your eyes, cheeks heating. "Alright, Casanova. Let’s get you ready for bed."

He grumbles when you tug him up, but relents when you pull him toward the kitchen, his feet dragging along the floor. He sags against you, arms wrapped around your waist, and you practically have to pour him into his chair.

"Okay," you say, carefully handing him a large glass of water. "Stay."

James salutes you with two fingers, swaying slightly. "Aye, aye."

You stifle a giggle. "I’m going to the bathroom. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, of course," James says, puffing up his chest in mock seriousness.

You raise a brow. "Really?"

"Yes!" he insists, nodding so enthusiastically that he nearly topples off his seat. "Totally fine."

You hesitate for a moment before slipping into the bathroom. The mirror is streaked in places, toothpaste flecks near the sink, and you make a mental note to clean it tomorrow. You catch your reflection, eyes lingering on the tired but content expression staring back at you. The apartment is small, your job doesn’t pay you enough, and sometimes the ceiling leaks when it rains too hard. But it’s yours. Yours and James’. And somehow, even when things are tight, you make it work. The place feels full — with laughter, with love, with him.

A loud clang makes you jump.

You rush out of the bathroom, heart racing, and find James sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, staring forlornly at what used to be a slice of cake. It’s now a sad mess of crumbs and frosting.

"James, what happened?"

He looks up at you, eyes wide and guilt-ridden. "It fell."

You press your lips together, trying not to laugh. "I can see that."

"I was trying to mold it back into cake shape," he explains, pushing the crumbled mess together with his fingers. "But it’s not working."

You kneel beside him, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "It’s okay. We’ll fix it tomorrow."

James pouts. "But I wanted cake."

"I know, love." You help him to his feet, dusting crumbs off his shirt. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."

He lets you lead him back to the bathroom, collapsing onto the closed toilet lid. "Okay," you say, guiding him onto the closed toilet lid. "Now don’t move, and I mean it this time."

James nods and bounces on the toilet seat like a child would. God, even drunk off his ass, he’s still the most endearing person you’ll ever know.

You grab his toothbrush and squeeze a dollop of minty toothpaste onto the bristles before holding it out to him. James stares at it blankly.

"You have to put it in your mouth, James."

"Oh. Right."

He takes the toothbrush and promptly misses his mouth, nearly poking himself in the cheek. You sigh, gently taking it from him.

"Alright. Open up."

He blinks at you. "You’re gonna brush my teeth for me?"

"Unless you want toothpaste all over the walls?"

He grins. "I love you."

You snort. "Yeah, yeah. Open."

James obediently parts his lips, and you carefully brush his teeth, trying not to laugh when he makes exaggerated "ahhh" sounds like a child at the dentist. His eyes stay fixed on you the entire time, half-lidded and soft.

When you’re done, he swishes some water around his mouth and nearly misses the sink spitting it out. You wipe his chin with a towel, shaking your head fondly.

"There. Minty fresh."

James beams at you, pulling you into his arms and pressing his face into your neck. "You’re the best. My best girl. My only girl."

"Yes, yes, I know. Let’s get you to bed before you pass out in the sink."

He lets you lead him to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed like a starfish the moment his back hits the mattress. You pull off his shoes, tossing them into the corner, and tug the blankets over him. Just as you’re about to turn off the light, his hand catches yours.

"Stay."

You slip under the covers, and James immediately pulls you into his arms, his face nuzzling into your neck.

"I love our apartment," he mumbles sleepily. "I love you."

You press a kiss to his curls, smiling into the dark. "Love you too, James."

He’s asleep before you can say anything else, snoring softly into your pillow. And as the glow-in-the-dark stars shimmer faintly above you, and the faint smell of alcohol mixed with mint fanned your face, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’re the luckiest person in the world.

[slythergirl666]

james potter who always wants you in his lap because you sitting next to him isn't close enough. james potter who lifts you onto his shoulders after he wins a Quidditch match. like he is so hyper that he jumps up and down, seemingly forgetting that you are holding onto his hair for dear life. james potter who bribes you with your favorite sweets when he needs help on homework. james potter who needs a cuddle break every five minutes when you're tutoring him. james potter who gives you piggyback rides when you're tired after a long night out. james potter who lets you win when you play-fight. oh who am i kidding, he would throw you over his shoulder and dance around before pinning you down and kissing every inch of your face sloppily. james potter who would randomly tell you which piece to move when you’re playing chess against remus or sirius because he always wins against the three of you.

remus lupin. sirius black.

[grangerhater]

A GAME OF TABOO

pairing: professor!Remus Lupin x student!reader

synopsis: it’s against the school principles but it’s just for a night right?

smut

warning: plot, teacher-student relationship, they are both two consenting adults, p in v penetration, nick names “daddy” and “baby” once or twice, spanking

The rain poured heavily outside as Y/N hurriedly made her way through the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was her last year at the prestigious school, and despite the gloomy weather, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Today was the day she would meet her new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Remus Lupin.

As Y/N entered the classroom, a warm, inviting atmosphere greeted her. The room was adorned with shelves filled with books, and the crackling fire in the fireplace emitted a comforting glow. Y/N's eyes scanned the room, finally landing on the figure standing by the blackboard.

Professor Lupin turned to face her, his eyes filled with kindness and warmth. He had a tired look about him, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But there was an air of wisdom and intelligence that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

"Ah, Miss Y/L/N, I presume?" Professor Lupin greeted her with a gentle smile. "Please, come in. Take a seat."

Y/N nodded and took a seat at the front of the classroom, her heart fluttering nervously. As the other students filed in, Professor Lupin began the lesson, captivating the class with his vast knowledge and engaging teaching methods. Y/N found herself hanging onto every word, her fascination growing with each passing moment.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N found herself growing more and more infatuated with Professor Lupin. His calm and patient demeanor, combined with his intelligence, drew her in like a moth to a flame. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt. It was wrong to have feelings for her teacher.

Throughout the lesson, Y/N found herself constantly stealing glances at Professor Lupin. His voice was soothing, lulling her into a sense of comfort as he explained the intricacies of the Patronus Charm. She admired the way he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly and captivating the entire class.

After class, Y/N lingered behind, pretending to gather her belongings as the other students filed out. She watched as Professor Lupin collected his papers, his brows furrowed in concentration. Summoning her courage, she approached his desk.

"Professor Lupin, I wanted to ask you something," Y/N began, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his eyes softening at the sight of her. "Of course, Y/N. What can I help you with?"

She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. "I... I was wondering if you could recommend any additional reading on the Patronus Charm. I find it fascinating and would love to learn more about it."

A smile spread across Professor Lupin's face as he reached for a nearby bookshelf, pulling out a worn, leather-bound book. "Ah, I have just the thing for you. This is an advanced text on the Patronus Charm. It delves into the theory behind it and provides numerous tips for successful casting. I believe you'll find it quite enlightening."

Y/N's eyes widened with gratitude as she accepted the book. "Thank you, Professor Lupin. I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Y/N. I am always here for you" he replied, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary.

Over the following weeks, Y/N found herself spending more and more time with Professor Lupin. They often engaged in deep discussions about various magical subjects, and their conversations would stretch into the night. Y/N cherished these moments, treasuring the connection she felt with him.

As the months passed, Y/N's feelings for Professor Lupin grew stronger and stronger. She found herself thinking about him constantly, and longing for his company. She couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt, knowing that a teacher-student relationship was taboo, but she couldn't deny her feelings.

One day, after class, well after curfew that is Y/N snuck out of the party that was held in her common room and drunkenly decided to take a chance and admit her feelings to Professor Lupin. She gathered her courage and knocked on his office door, her heart racing.

Unfortunately, her drunken confession came at the wrong time as Professor Lupin had just finished a particularly hard day of work and was resting in his office as he enjoyed his well-earned drink. He wasn't in the mood to entertain any conversations, let alone one with a drunken student, so he ignored the knock on the door and continued sipping on his drink, assuming that whoever it was outside the door would eventually get the hint and leave him alone. But she continued knocking on the door, oblivious to Lupin's intentions and wanting nothing more than to finally tell him how she really feels.

Lupin eventually got up and answered the door, immediately realizing that it was Y/N , and annoyed that this drunken adventure wasn't ending anytime soon. Despite his annoyance, Lupin was still fond of her and knew that she had been having a rough time lately, so he softened his demeanor and asked, "miss Y/N, what are you doing knocking on my door at this time of night?" she sheepishly looked down at her feet as she answered, "I-I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you." Lupin's expression turned to one of confusion as he asked, "Is this some kind of joke?"

Y/N realized that she had to be serious if she wanted Lupin to take her seriously. She met Lupin's gaze and said in a determined tone, "No, this is no joke. I really do have feelings for you." Lupin's face softened further as he said, " I don't know what to say. I'm flattered, but we can't be together. I'm your professor, and-" she interrupted him, saying, "I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend, I just wanted you to know that I have real feelings for you."

Lupin looked at her, trying to figure out what to say next. He didn't want to hurt her feelings but at the same time, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had always been attracted to her. Eventually, he took a deep breath and said, "Listen Y/N… I can't act on any personal urges I may have for you. It's against school policy -and-"

Y/N interrupted him again as she stepped closer to him, putting her hands on his arms and leaning in closer. "So you're saying you're attracted to me too?"

Lupin felt his face blushing as the tension mounted between them. "I can't -", he began to say but was stopped as she leaned in closer to him, bringing her face close to his. Lupin couldn't ignore the fact that she was looking at him with such desire. He took a deep breath and said, "This is not the smartest thing either of us could do, but..”

He led her inside and locked the door behind them. He pushed her against the wall, eager to fulfill their unspoken desires. Y/N couldn't believe that her night of liquid courage had paid off, but she knew that she wanted Lupin more than anything in the world at that moment.

As Lupin kissed her with all the passion he had been suppressing for so long, her heart raced with emotion. She wrapped her arms around Lupin's neck and let him take control of the situation. Lupin gently pulled her robes off as he kissed her neck and began to explore her body. Despite his initial reservations, he couldn't deny that he wanted to be with Y/N in this moment. He moved his lips down to her neck, kissing and sucking gently as he made his way down her body. She let out a soft moan of pleasure as Lupin's lips brushed against her sensitive skin.

He continued to explore her body with his mouth, devouring her sensitive skin with his kisses. As his hands groped her curves, Y/N felt her pleasure grow and she responded by running her hands through Lupin's hair, pulling him closer and pressing herself against him. Lupin was feeling more aroused than he had in years and he finally forgot about his worries and concerns. His focus was now completely on the woman in his arms and the joy she was bringing him in this moment.

Lupin and Y/N’s passion intensified as they kissed and groped each other, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Lupin knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he was beyond the point of worrying about rules or consequences. He wanted Y/N and he was going to have her no matter what. her moans of pleasure grew louder as Lupin increased the intensity of his kisses, running his hands over her body and squeezing her curves. Y/N was lost in a state of blissful pleasure that was overwhelming and she knew that she never wanted it to end

His hands moved down to Y/N's panties, pulling them off to reveal her wetness. He slid a finger inside her causing her to moan louder. Y/N reached down and unzipped Lupin's pants, freeing his hard member. She stroked him, making him groan in pleasure. Lupin positioned himself between her legs and entered her slowly at first, but then picking up speed. They moved together in perfect harmony, their passion intensifying with every thrust.

Lupin grabbed Y/N's hair and pulled it back, exposing her neck. He bit down on it leaving a mark. Y/N moaned in pleasure, the pain only adding to the pleasure Lupin's thrusts became rougher and more aggressive, making Y/N scream with pleasure. He spanked her ass, leaving it red and raw. They were both lost in a world of rough intense pleasure with nothing else mattering but the ecstasy they were feeling

Lupin continued to spank Y/N's ass, each hit sending waves of pleasure through her body. She begged for more, wanting to feel the pain and pleasure mix together. Lupin obliged, hitting her harder and harder until she was screaming in pleasure. He pulled out and flipped her over entering her from behind.

Lupin continued to thrust into Y/N, his hands gripping her hips tightly. She moaned and cried out calling him "daddy" in a moment of intense pleasure. Lupin's desire for her grew even stronger at the sound of the nickname, and he pounded into her harder and faster until they both reached the peak of ecstasy together.

He growled in pleasure as he continued to thrust into Y/N with rough, intense strokes "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he asked his voice filled with desire. Y/N moaned in response, her body shaking with pleasure. "Yes, daddy," she replied, her voice filled with need. Lupin's thrusts became even rougher, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room

he whispered dirty words into her ear, telling her how much he wanted her and how he was going to make her come. Y/N's moans grew louder and more intense as he continued to pleasure her with his rough, skilled hands

Lupin continued to thrust into Y/N with rough, intense strokes until he finally reached his peak. Lupin's climax was intense, his body shaking with pleasure as he came inside her with a groan. They both collapsed onto the bed exhausted and satisfied with their experience. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing.

Lupin pulled Y/N close to him and whispered in her ear, "That was amazing, baby" Y/N smiled up at him, feeling content and satisfied. "Yes, it was," she replied, her voice filled with pleasure. They both knew that what they had just experienced was something special, something that they would never forget.

[pretty-little-mind33]

chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend. 

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning. 

He's pissed. 

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now. 

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him! 

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh. 

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch. 

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already." 

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends. 

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny. 

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed. 

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–" 

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state. 

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter." 

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why. 

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends. 

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath. 

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you. 

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does. 

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too. 

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear. 

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears. 

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again. 

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter. 

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty. 

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls. 

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground. 

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes. 

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!" 

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen. 

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her. 

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James. 

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom. 

It had been better quality than yours anyway. 

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'. 

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–" 

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is." 

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater. 

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him. 

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you. 

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head. 

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart. 

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish. 

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you. 

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks. 

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that. 

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts. 

He has never felt more like an ass than now. 

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head. 

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed. 

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens. 

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him. 

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment. 

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp. 

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache. 

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group. 

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you. 

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture. 

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you. 

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back. 

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart. 

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence." 

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm. 

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?" 

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. 

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up." 

Sirius just laughs loudly. 

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle. 

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot. 

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop. 

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.  

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features. 

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours. 

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut. 

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both. 

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you. 

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small. 

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite. 

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese

[semetarydrve]

Extra Credit

╭─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╮

CW: smut, light corruption kink, teacher x student, blackmail

Pairing: teacher!Remus x student!Reader

WC: 3.8k

AN: already thinking abt a prt 2 where remus gets territorial abt yn if this one does well ill try to post it next week

╰─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╯

“(y/n)!”

Your head shot up from the absent-minded notes you had managed to jot down, barely legible due to your seemingly never ending exhaustion. You looked up to catch your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors rather disappointed gaze.

“Yes Professor Lupin? I’m sorry I didn’t quiet catch that last part can you repeat the question.” He sighed and shook his head.

“It’s quite alright, you can just speak to me after your last class.” A wave of hushed snickers drifted through the room. Your face flushed in embarrassment and you nodded meekly. “Right, well on that note the deadline for the essay for your quarterly paper is due next week! Feel free to seek help after school tomorrow if you’re struggling.” He finished, people rushing to pack their things. You graciously took the opportunity to pack your things and attempt to slip by your professor in the crowd.

Unfortunately for you he’d been watching carefully, he couldn’t help himself. As the full moon drew closer he couldn’t ignore the thoughts plaguing his brain. His perverse fixation on you was far from new, still able to clearly recall the first day he laid eyes on you. You’d walked in at the tail end of the sea of new faces, quietly finding your seat conveniently at the front of the room. He’d watched inconspicuously, thinking that even under the unflattering cut of your uniform you brought on a deep primal urge to bury his knot deep inside of you.

When you finally passed by his desk he called out for you. With a shaky and apprehensive breath you diverted your path to reach him. He was now sitting at his desk shuffling around papers as students filed out, rolling up the sleeves on his cardigan and button up to expose his scarred arms. You pushed down the rather inappropriate thoughts about him that had plagued your mind since he’d begun teaching at Hogwarts. When the last few people had left the room he beckoned for you to sit in the chair next to his desk.

“Don’t worry this will be quick. First off I want to say (y/n) you have been nothing but an amazing student this year. But the last month or so I’ve noticed a decline in the quality of your work and it’s affecting your marks in my course. Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired. You sighed and shook your head, heart dropping at the idea of your grades being lowered.

“I’m sorry Professor. I’ll do better.” You said softly. His kind hazel eyes found yours and he shook his head.

“No need to apologize. I’m telling you this because I want you to succeed in my course. With just a bit of extra credit you’ll be back on track in no time.” His reassuring gaze made you feel more at ease.

“It’s not just your class I’m struggling with. Because of the workload I have I’ve been having trouble keeping up with everything. Truthfully I’m exhausted.” You sighed. It felt nice to be honest about how hard it was to stay afloat in school. He nodded sympathetically and smiled, placing a warm hand on your knee. This action was innocent enough but just the feeling of the physical boundaries between you being broken for the first time made him twitch in his pants. Now that he was close enough he could let your scent ingrain itself into his memory.

“I understand, I’ve been in your shoes. The last year is always the hardest. Perhaps when we meet after class I could offer some help to steer you in the right direction?” He offered.

“That would be very helpful if that isn’t too much to ask.” You replied, feeling relieved your favorite professor was willing to do that. He thanked you for your time and said he was looking forward to helping you later today.

As the door closed behind you he sighed heavily. He absolutely knew the complications of being involved with a student but never had he met one he was so tempted by. He did his best to keep it completely professional but once in a while he’d find himself staring at you. Dreaming of pinning you down and having his way with you. Even your sense of humor and sly way of thinking drew him in. Sometimes he wondered if you noticed his lingering gaze. His hand absently drifted to his crotch, palming at his growing erection. With a frustrated groan he sat up and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to pull himself together. He situated himself at his desk and began dealing with the mess in front of him, checking the clock during his next periods in anticipation of your return.

Finally class was dismissed for the last time and he sat down in his chair. He’d thought of this opportunity a million times but now that it was happening he was unsure of how he’d actually approach it. When the soft wrapping of your knuckles on his door echoed out, he swallowed the lump that had been building up in his throat thinking about you.

“Come in!” He called out. You quietly closed the door behind you and made your way to the seat he had placed in front of his desk.

“Thank you for offering to see me Professor. I was too nervous to ask on my own.” You said shrugging off your robe and pulling out your embarrassingly sparse notes.

“Nervous for what?” He chuckled. The question was light hearted enough but your face flushed. He spoke with such a sly tone, completely different from his nurturing instructor one. It gave you goosebumps, feeling slightly put off by his gaze. Not only did he sound different but his eyes had also lost their softer nature. Now they focused on you pointedly, slowly raking over every inch of your body. Finally he looked up to catch your eyes and you felt like he could read your discomfort.

“I just figured you were busy with all your other work I didn’t want to be a bother.” You replied trying to fill the silence, your eyes trailed to the two scars running across his face. 'i wonder how he got those?' You thought taking a moment to admire the way they enhanced his rugged look.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked chuckling. You shook your head. “And I could never be bothered by my favorite student.” He added making you smile and put aside the feeling that something was off. Perhaps you were just over thinking it because you did have a bit of a crush on him.

“Well thank you. If you don’t mind I have a few questions actually.” You said moving to pull out today’s notes. He nodded and stood up, circling around the desk and standing behind you. He bent down to get a closer look, his hands resting on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs and leaned slightly to the side to give him a better view of the paper.

“I see there’s more than a few things you forgot to write down today. I guess it would be best to start by covering what you seemed to have missed yeah?” He said gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He peered down at the notes from over you and slowly began massaging you.

“Sorry about that Professor. I just zoned out for a second during the lecture.” You stammered, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his fingers working over your sore muscles. His right hand found its way to the other shoulder as he planted himself directly behind. The grip was strong and comforting.

“You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Remus for now. And you what (y/n) I thought of an extra credit assignment that’ll fix your marks.” He said quietly as he leaned down to your ear.

“Just one assignment?” You inquired, trying to ignore the feeling of his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You felt frozen, mostly confused and a bit afraid, but nonetheless a wet spot marked your panties.

“Mhm. Just one. And you could have it done tonight if you do it right. Does that sound good?” You nodded, unable to speak as you tried to process what was happening. You just knew it felt like saying no wasn’t a wise choice. You were in the last half of your final year, maintaining good marks meant everything. “You’re going to be a good girl and do what I say, and be quiet about it. Do we have an understanding?” He whispered, breath labored as he started to smell you break a sweat.

“Is there no other option? This just doesn’t feel right.” You said shakily, not wanting out right confrontation. He hummed pretending to think about it. His hands left your shoulders and came down to rest flat on the desk before you, effectively trapping you.

“You have two options. You can let me ravish you on this desk…” He started, trailing off.

“Or?” You asked afraid to move or look at him.

“Or you can leave and I’ll slowly but inevitably fail you. Assignments being counted as late, maybe even not turned in at all.” He threatened.

“That’s not fair! I’ll tell the Headmaster.” You protested.

“You could try. But he’s far too busy dealing with Sirius Black on the loose.” Even without being able to see his face you could hear that he was smiling. From your perspective he had a valid point. “So what will it be?”

“Fine.” You said quietly. His mind moved a mile a minute as the very situation he had dreamed about presented itself.

“I knew you’d come around.” He purred. “Now be a good girl and stand up for me.” He stepped back, giving you room.

“Yes Professor.” You said meekly, getting to your feet. For a moment you stood still facing away from him, too nervous to look at him. He gently spun you around by your waist. He looked down at your innocent face and felt his cock throbbing. What a beautiful little plaything you were. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, your hands instinctively reaching for his bicep. The contact made his body feel hot, thinking about how long he’d been fantasizing about bending you over every surface possible.

"I've wanted to fuck you since the day you pranced into this classroom." He said pulling away breathlessly. Your eyes widened and cheeks flushed.

“Really?” You asked, unable to deny the way his words made your stomach flip. You weren’t used to this kind of attention.

“Yes really.” He said leaning in again for another kiss. He could feel your muscles relax, slowly letting your guard down. Good. "Now be a doll and get on your knees."

“But Professor-“

“Ah ah ah. Remember? You’re going to be good and listen right?”

“I’ve never done that before.” Your words came out small and timid. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You haven’t huh? It’s okay I’ve heard I’m pretty good at teaching others.” He joked. You shook your head and he gently caressed your cheek. “Don’t worry you’ll do great.” He said planting a kiss on your lips and stepping back. You swallowed, now painfully aware of your lack of experience.

“Okay Sir.” You said sinking to your knees. He watched as undid his belt and pants, your hands fumbling. You let out a small gasp as you freed him from his confinements. Bigger than expected was a light way of putting it. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of embarrassment flood your system.

“Go ahead.” Remus commanded, his voice no longer soothing but instead dripping with frustration. He watched as you took the head of his cock in your mouth. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slowly inched him down your throat. He groaned and gripped your head with both hands, pushing you down harder. You gagged and he began thrusting slowly, building up speed making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears making your makeup begin to run down your face.

"Is it too much? Am I fucking your little throat too hard?" He taunted. Your fingers dug into his thighs as you fought his grip. He watched as you struggled, spit dripping down your chin onto the white, now almost sheer, button up. Eyes watery and pleading for mercy. The sight made his hips snap forward, almost cumming right then. "Over the desk. Now." He growled, pulling you to stand by your hair and pushing you onto the desk. Any ounce of self restraint or composure had flown out the window. Now all that mattered was getting to break in his new toy. He yanked your panties down. "Spread your legs." You did as you were told and stepped out of your panties as you opened your legs. He raked his fingers over your hips and thighs giving you goosebumps. Your brain reeled, thighs pressed together for relief from the dripping wetness between your legs and the knot in your stomach. He roughly pried them apart and began lightly tracing his fingers on your inner thigh, inching closer to your clit.

"Please." You cried squirming uncomfortably. He smiled devilishly and removed his hand.

"Please what?" He teased.

"Please touch me." You cried, pushing back against him. He watch in amusement as you begged for his touch, tightening his grip on your flesh and pulling you closer. His cock began slowly sliding between the folds of your pussy, just enough to tease you. The feeling was driving him crazy but now that he had you in front of him he’d savor every moment. Without a word he slipped his cock in carefully. You whimpered and he groaned, shocked by how perfect you felt.

“Now I want you to be very very quiet okay?” He breathed, slowly beginning to rock his hips. You let out a barely coherent ‘okay’ as your focus drifted to adjusting to his size. You reached behind and flipped up your skirt for a better view. He chuckled at your eagerness and gently grabbed the back of your head in one hand and pinned one of your wrists behind you with the other. In one swift motion he started pounding into you, your body pinned in place as he picked up a relentless pace. Without thinking you cried out loudly, immediately regretting your actions as he pulled out.

“Please put it back Remus.” You whined reaching with your free hand to guide him back inside of you. He tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed your face harder into the cool wood surface.

“I told you to be quiet but clearly you can’t.“ He said leaning over you. The adrenaline pumped through you at the feeling of being trapped under him.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, not yet daring to fight against his grip. He released you, stepping back and tucking himself away.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” He said as you slowly straightened and turned to face him. The look of pure desperation on your face drove him crazy. You closed the distance and placed your hands on his chest.

“I promise I’ll be quiet. Anything you want.” You begged watching his eyes study your face. He actually didn’t have an intentions on stopping this encounter, just curious to see how quick he could have you wrapped around his finger.

"Lay on your back, now.” He watched you scramble to take off your skirt and get onto the desk. He stepped between your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. His lips worked in sync with yours as he pushed your legs open. He ripped open your top, buttons scattering as he toyed with your nipples before running his hands down your body. He stopped at your hip and the other hand wandered farther down. He ran two fingers up to your clit, eliciting a needy moan from you. He pulled away from the kiss to put his fingers to his lips.

"You even taste sweet princess." He said as he licked them clean. He held eye contact as he began to rub slow circles on your clit. You jolted at the contact and laid back on the desk. He admired your cunt, small trickles down your legs making him chuckle. “Fuck you’re wet I might have to cum in your tight little hole.” He said slowly pushing into your heat. You moaned at the sensation, your walls gripping his fingers tightly. He leaned down and seized your throat with his free hand. You raised a hand to the one around your neck, using your fingers to indicate you wanted it tighter. He smirked and replaced the wary grip with a tight, more restrictive one. The combination of his fingers in you and around your throat was heavenly. He curled his fingers slightly sending a wave of unexpected pleasure through you. He took note of this and continued the same motion. Your eyes glazed over and you nodded fervently.

“Don’t stop. I’m so close.” You mewled quietly.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re enjoying this. Maybe I’ll have to keep you to myself.” His words sent you over the edge. Biting your knuckle as the pressure in your lower abdomen built up, your eyes fluttered shut as you came on his fingers. He continued his motions, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around his digits. Your body felt hot and shaky as you rode the high. He slowly withdrew his fingers and cleaned them with an eager tongue. His hum of approval bringing a small smile to your face. You slowly sat up and placed your hands on his exposed chest where his shirt hung open.

“What happened?” You asked studying the scars that peppered his body.

“It’s a long story.” He replied as your eyes found his. He leaned in for a kiss. It was deep and passionate this time. His hand slipped behind you so he could pull you to the edge of the desk. You melted at the feeling of your bodies pressing together. His teeth bit down softly on your lower lip as he pulled away. “You’re doing so good for me.” He murmured against your lips.

“Thank you. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Your bare cunt brushed against his pants as he leaned into you making you jump. He took notice of this and smirked as he began to slowly rock his hips.

“That’s okay, you’re a quick learner.” He said, trailing kisses down to your neck. His warm breath gave you goosebumps. “ ‘Nd I guess you aren’t as delicate as I thought.” His hand wandered down your stomach, stopping between your legs. Using his fingers he spread your lips causing you to involuntarily push back for more. “Don’t move.” He smirked and moved to bite your earlobe as he moved his fingers to your clit. You breathed deeply, fighting the urge to buck your hips.

“Professor shouldn’t we hurry? I don’t want you to get in trouble.” How sweet. You were worried about keeping your little secret.

“Unfortunately you’re right my love.” You watched excitedly as he made quick work of dropping his trousers. He pulled you in for another slow and tender kiss while lining himself up with your entrance. You both let out a sigh of relief as he used the hand on your lower back to keep you close while he slid in.

“Remus you feel so good.” You said in a hushed voice. He replied with a half hearted ‘my god’, his attention now focused on watching his cock slowly slide in and out. Slick with the taste of you. He almost couldn’t look away but the small whimpers coming from you drew his gaze up.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said breathlessly, speeding up his pace and rubbing your clit. You dropped your head back as he fucked you, your orgasm building quickly until you felt like you were gonna explode. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he watched in awe as profanities fell from your lips and your body began to quiver.

“I think I’m gonna cum.” You said, starting to feel overstimulated by his fingers.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed. “I don’t know if I’ll last much longer myself.” His voice faltered at the end as he felt himself getting closer to his own release. Your nails buried themselves deeper in his shoulders, earning a feral snarl from Remus. He liked when you lost yourself in the feeling of him. You might shape up to be his favorite fucktoy. A few more strokes and you were unraveling before him. You writhed and panted under him, unable to keep quiet. He grunted and withdrew, cum spurting on your lower half.

There was a brief pause as he held you.

“Did I do good, Sir?” You asked dropping your head on his chest.

“Very. But next week I’d like to-”

“Next week? I thought this was just a one time thing.” You said looking up at him confused.

“Did I say that?” He asked slyly. He cupped your chin and titled your face to give you a soft kiss. “But wasn’t this fun?”

“Yes, Sir I had a lot of fun.” You said nodding, fighting the butterflies in your stomach. It felt wrong but you could help but enjoy his presence.

“Good. Then you’ll be here same time next week. Now get dressed. And quickly.” He said beginning to fix his shirt. He watched proudly as you did what you were told. After your skirt was on he helped you put on your robes, pulling the front shut tight now that your shirt was basically useless without its buttons. As you opened your mouth to ask him a question there was a soft knock on his door. He shot you a ‘follow my lead’ glance before walking over to the door as you quickly fixed your hair. Professor McGonagall stepped in the room and looked over at you curiously.

“(y/n).” She said greeting you.

“Hi professor.”

“She was actually just leaving our tutoring session.” Remus said.

“Oh well I hate to interrupt Lupin but Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office.” She said giving him a knowing glance.

“Ah I see. Thank you Minerva.” He said turning his attention to you. “If you don’t mind (y/n), I’m going to step out if you’d like to gather your things. We can pick up where we left off next week.” He said giving you a small smile. You nodded, turning to pick up your parchment and other belongings. Your mind raced, grappling with the situation. As you grabbed the last of your things you turned and said goodbye to your teachers.

“Brilliant student isn’t she?” You heard McGonagall say as you left.

“Oh she’s a gem for sure.” Remus replied with a chuckle.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Best friend!James with no boundaries

This is inspired by @ddejavvu cause I can’t get enough of no boundary James

———————————————

Summary: Y/N has been best friends with James since they were kids, and she’s constantly in his dorm hanging out. While he helps her get ready for an epic Gryffindor party, the rest of the marauders are forced to witness their questionable friendship boundaries.

———————————————

Remus and Sirius exchange a knowing look as they enter the dorm. They’ve just got back from securing the liquor from Hogsmeade and it looks like you’re starting to prep for the party as well.

“James! Don’t lie, this top totally washes me out,” you pout, standing over James with your arms crossed as he sits on his bed and watches you model the outfit.

“Okay, okay. The color isn’t the best. Try this one on,” James sighs as he tosses you a tight fitting shirt. Without any regard for the now three boys in the room, you strip off the ugly top in exchange for the new one.

“Woah, woah, woah! What the hell are you doing?” Sirius exclaims, putting his hands over his eyes. Remus just rolls his eyes before moving to his trunk to put away the supplies. You completely ignore his comment as you slip on the new top, your breasts inches away from James face. He doesn’t seem too concerned.

“Oh, piss off, Black. Never seen a pair of tits before?” You quip, walking over to the mirror. Sirius shoots Remus a look of disgust but he just shrugs in return.

“Okay, this is the one,” James says proudly, coming up behind you in the mirror, “he’s not going to be able keep his hands off you tonight.” You sigh as you turn around to look up at James with innocent eyes.

“You really think so?” You pout, fiddling with the hem of your tight skirt. Sirius scoffs from across the room.

“I know so. Here, just pull this up a bit,” James bends down to hike up the back of your skirt and pulls the fabric of your shirt taut against your curves, “and put on that sexy perfume and there’s no way he’ll be able to resist you.”

Your smile spreads across your face as you reach up to kiss James on the cheek.

“Thank you James, I don’t know what I would do without you,” you pat him on the cheek before strutting out of the room, “See you tonight boys.”

James smiles proudly as you leave the room before falling back onto his bed.

“Are you serious, Prongs?” Sirius scoffs as he falls onto his own bed.

“What?” James asks, looking up dumbfounded from his bed.

“How can you just sit there with her tits in front of your face and act like that’s normal?” Sirius asks, his mouth open in astonishment. James only smiles back.

“Oh, please. She’s just my friend. Besides, someone has to help her make her tits look good, have you seen her fashion sense?” James snorts and falls back onto his bed, completely unbothered. Sirius turns to Remus for some sort of assurance that he’s not going crazy.

“At this point I’m not sure why you’re surprised,” Remus shrugs, putting his jacket in his trunk, “but her tits did look better in the second top.”

[amourane]

your fated one

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

genre: fluff, mentions of pregnancy

w/c: 1.2k

summary: you never believed in fate until you met regulus black.

warnings: none

a/n: i love regulus black sm with all my heart and soulll, also i've been in a fluffy mood lately can you tell???

“Merlin.” You whispered as you held the pregnancy test in your hand, stomach churning at the two positive lines that were drawn on. 

Immense happiness filled your body before the dread came…how were you going to tell him?

Regulus lay in your shared bed, his dark hair tousled against the pillow. You stumbled out of the bathroom, head spinning from the new knowledge that had been bestowed upon you. Everything seemed surreal.

The morning sickness had been relentless, the missed period a silent alarm that something was amiss. Yet, the reality of it all hit you like a ton of bricks as you stood there, clutching the bathroom door frame for support. You and Regulus hadn’t even come close to discussing the topic of children. The both of you had basically just graduated from Hogwarts and the engagement ring that sat on your finger was the symbol of a promise of a life together.

Regulus glanced up from his book, concern etched into his features as he took in your distressed state. "Are you alright, love?" His voice was laced with worry, eyebrows furrowing as he approached you. "You don't look well."

Your throat felt dry, parched even. Your fingers were trembling as you felt tears prick your eyes. Merlin, what if he didn’t want the baby? Regulus was so young and so were you, having a child was something you hadn't even begun to fathom. 

“Y/n, darling?” There was a moment as his eyes caught sight of the object in your trembling hands, his expression shifted from confusion to realization. “Is that…?” 

His voice trailed off, eyes widening in astonishment when you nodded in approval. A wave of happiness washed over him and he felt warmth spread throughout his chest. His joy, however, was quickly tempered by concern as tears continued to streak down your face.

“Love, what’s wrong? Isn’t this meant to be a happy occasion? You’re pregnant!” He asked softly, bringing you to sit on the edge of the bed, his arm around you. “Do you not want the baby?”

“No! Of course I want the baby!” You shouted, voice cracking. “It’s just…we’re so young Reggie and we’re getting married soon, I don’t want to walk down the aisle looking like a fucking whale.” You wailed like a banshee and your fiancé broke out in laughter. 

“You are not going to look like a fucking whale darling, and we can postpone the wedding if it makes you feel any better, I’ll wait forever for you.” He cooed as he gave you a kiss. The tears didn’t stop but you felt happier. “I’ve always wanted a family and the journey we’re going to have together will be amazing. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“What if you love the baby more than me?”

“Not possible, I could never love anyone more than I love you.” He cupped your cheeks, adoring the way you acted like a petulant child at times. 

You sniffled, hands rubbing your belly. “I can’t believe it…”

Regulus's smile widened, his eyes alight with a newfound brightness. "Believe it or not, love, but fate has a funny way of bringing us together." He teased, his playful demeanor bringing a smile to your lips.

“Fuck that shit, I don’t believe in fate.”

“Love, we’re literally a witch and a wizard.” 

“Still don’t believe in it, you know me Reg.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, pushing you down onto the bed gently, peppering your face with sweet kisses. You could see the ways his eyes sparkled with something new. His smile was brighter than ever and his cheeks were rosy. You felt a new batch of tears brimming at your eyes and you soon started to cry again.

“Y/n?” He asked, wiping your tears away with his hand. “Are these tears happy or sad?”

“I just l-love you so much.” You sobbed. “I fucking love you Regulus Black.”

He bit his lip to hide the joyous laughter that was bubbling up inside of him but a chuckle escaped from his lips. You smacked his arm as a scowl took over your features.

“You prick, I’m here confessing my love to you and you’re laughing!”

Regulus bursted into laughter before summoning a mirror for you to look at your reflection. Your eyes were swollen and quite evident that you had been crying. Your hair was frazzled and all over the place.

“Even though you look like a mess, I still love you.”

"Good." You replied, a grin spreading across your face despite the lingering tears. "You're getting married to me."

//

Amidst the cheers and celebration, you and your newly-wed husband stood hand in hand, surrounded by friends and family. Little Leo, just five months old, nestled in your arms, his wide eyes already reflecting the familiar stormy grey of Regulus'.

“How’s little Leo doing?” Your husband cooed at your son and he giggled, tiny hands latching onto Regulus’ finger. “Me and Mama just got married. She’s officially Mrs Black now.”

Your heart melted at the words he said. The long dinner table was seated with chattering guests and you thought now was the perfect time to finally say the speech you had been preparing. Regulus still hadn’t a clue about what you were going to say so this was all going to be a surprise. 

Passing Leo into Regulus' loving arms, you pressed a kiss to your son's forehead before rising to your feet. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to you, curiosity and anticipation flickering in their gazes, including Regulus' and Leo's.

“Hi everyone.” You gave the faces you knew for decades a wave. “I've been waiting for this moment to share something I've wanted to say for a long time.”

You saw the way your husband’s face was knitted with confusion and you couldn’t suppress the grin that took over your face.

"Regulus Black, you have always been, and always will be, the light of my life. From the moment we met at eleven to this day at twenty-one, time has flown by, but my love for you has only grown stronger. You've given me the greatest joys in life, and I will never stop cherishing you. We've faced hardships together, but with you by my side, I know we can overcome anything. I cannot wait to continue this journey with you, raising our son together."

You could see the emotion welling in Regulus' eyes as you spoke, his expression mirroring the depth of your love.

“I used to say I didn’t believe in fate, that was a lie. I believed in fate the moment I met you Reg, you made me believe in it. We are destined for each other and I hope that I spend every second of my life with you. Fate brought us together and it will keep us together. Our family of three.”

You finished your speech and you saw Regulus’ eyes fill with tears as he got up and kissed you deeply without hesitation. The room erupted in cheers and congratulations, the love and happiness palpable in the air.

“We have fate to thank for this I guess.” He smiled as he rested his forehead against yours.

Tears were now running down your face as you gave your husband another kiss. Your gaze shifted to your son, cradled in Regulus' arms, and then back to your husband, a wave of love washing over you. 

“We sure do.”

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒇 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), oral (f!receiving), shy!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink (kinda), some teasing, dirty talk, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: sirius really likes it when the reader wears his clothes.

𝑨/𝑵: hi everyone! i’m very excited for my first post on this blog. please go easy on me as i’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing (also this is completely unedited, so apologies in advance for any mistakes). i’m still deciding how i want to format these posts, so forgive me if it’s a bit of an eyesore. i also accidentally posted this on my main at first, so if you saw that... no you didn’t ;) as always, lowercase is intended. feel free to send me a request if you like. feedback is always appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

       “is that my shirt, dove?”

       the low, silken gravel of his tired voice startles you as you sit perched in the little window seat of your shared bedroom, the window thrust open to let the night breeze in.

       “hmmm?” you muse, distracted as you slowly paint a top coat on your toenails. you fan them with one hand as you glance behind you. sirius stands in the doorway, lithe figure leaned against the frame as he watches you. his shirtsleeves are rolled up over his forearms, hair skirting his shoulders messily, eyes foggy from a long day at work. a soft smile plays over his lips, quieter than his usual wide, wolfish grin.

       he nods towards his shirt draped over your frame, the fabric pooling around your hips to expose the fabric of your panties. “been looking for that all over,” he says simply.

       you make a sheepish face, twisting the cap onto the bottle of nail polish. “‘m sorry,” you mutter, smiling apologetically. you turn towards him, bare legs dangling over the edge of the seat. you are a sight for sore eyes; his gaze trails over your exposed skin, eyes darkening as they trace your figure draped in his shirt. a warmth blooms in your stomach as you watch him watch you. the look is familiar–though it never fails to send your chest aflutter.

       “want me to take it off?” you ask, mostly because you’re at the point where it’s getting hard not to squirm beneath his hungry gaze. the silence is deafening, unspoken words bubbling to the surface. you have the sudden feeling that sirius may not be as tired from work as you thought.

       “not at all.” there’s that mischievous glint behind his eyes, darkening the clear grey to a stormy shade. you sit another second, skin burning as his eyes rake over you, and then you stand and pad over to your vanity.

        sirius should be getting undressed, preparing for bed. he’s too busy watching you. his eyes skirt over the curve of one bare shoulder as you return the little bottle of polish to its rightful place. you swipe a hand through your mussed hair, trying to ignore his attention. he always knows how to get you squirming, the easiest ways to set your cheeks alight with embarrassment. he lives for it, watching his shy girl crumble between his fingers.

       it seems he can’t contain himself any longer as he approaches you, fingers sidling up beneath the hem of the shirt. his lips are on you in an instant, pressing gently against that irresistible patch of exposed skin on your shoulder. a sigh falls from your lips and you melt into his touch. you close your eyes. his calloused palms knead over the flesh of your hips, earning a soft groan from you.

        he smirks against your skin. “quiet tonight, hmm?” his breath fans along your neck as he kisses up towards your ear. goosebumps rise on your skin, a shiver threatening to snake down your spine.

        “it’s late,” you mutter. there’s a knowing second of quiet, both of you knowing you’ve fooled around much, much later. you’re flustered, trying to deflect his teasing words. the butterflies fluttering in your stomach have long since morphed into flames, burning like your skin as you wait for his next move.

       “you want me to stop?” his whisper is soft, the undertone of huskiness becoming feather light. you shift, eyes meeting his in the reflection of the vanity. his eyes are clear, curious. you know he’d stop at the word, no questions asked. but he knows you better than that, knows the way your legs twist together at the feeling of his hands holding you firmly means you don’t want him to stop. sirius wagers you would beg him not to stop, if he wanted you to.

        “no,” you shake your head. there’s that grin again, and his lips are back on you. a sharp breath slices the air as he nips at your skin with his teeth. “sirius–”

        his grasp tightens at the gasp of his name. he chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. he’s hardening behind you, bulge pressed against your scantily clad frame. his gaze is still trained on you in the mirror, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. he loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying.

       “please,” you manage, voice constricted as you writhe against him. the ache between your legs is incessant, throbbing as you watch his salacious expression in the mirror.

       “please what, my lovely girl?” he sucks a dark mark into the soft patch of skin behind your ear, earning a cry from you. he rolls your nipple between his fingers. you chew on your bottom lip, hips rocking as best they can despite his hold.

       “sirius–”

       there it is again, his favorite sound in the world. but he doesn’t give in so easily. you know better.

       “words, please, darling,” he mutters. the arm caged around your stomach loosens for a second, his flat-palm tracing down your stomach. he’s approaching the place where you need him most, but he’s not going to give in until he gets what he wants.

        you whimper at his teasing, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. “please,” you rasp desperately, “just touch me.”

        “ah,” he tuts at you, “but i am touching you…” the jest in his voice goes unnoticed by you, your head swimming as he inches closer and closer to your center. you wonder, in the back of your foggy mind, if he’ll give up without those magic words, if he’ll send you off to bed with soaked panties and a fluttering stomach. surely not…

        you contemplate being a brat, refusing to tell him what you want just to see how far you can push it. but you know he’s tired, and the need growing in your center is becoming almost unbearable. you let your pride crumble and you force yourself to meet his eyes in the mirror. “your fingers–your mouth, merlin–” your voice is choked as he smirks and gives in, his middle finger delving into your slick to circle around your engorged clit.

       “there’s my obedient girl,” he says approvingly, the praise in his voice like music to your ears. you cry out, voice cracking as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves with expertise. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly what drives you crazy. the pad of his finger dips further down, swirling through the mess of juices shining on your lips.

       mewling moans tear from your lips as he works you towards the edge. his lips are attached to your neck, abusing your skin to the point of saccharine tenderness. rosy marks bloom over your skin. his hand falls away from your breast to toy with the hem of the shirt, lifting it up in the front just enough so that he can watch himself pleasuring you.

       “fuck, take it off, please,” you plead, hips bucking against his hand.

       he shakes his head, releasing another patch of bruised skin with a hearty pop. “can’t,” he says, “wanna fuck you in it…” he mutters, voice low. he drags his teeth over your shoulder again, and then his fingers are slipping out of your panties. you whine at the loss of contact, your thighs clenching together automatically at the lack of stimulation.

       he pats your bum gently, head nodding in the direction of your bed. “go on, dove,” he says, “lay down f’me…”

        you do as he says, your heart thumping in anticipation. your legs are already quivering, weakened from his skilled fingers. he’s taking his time, watching as you sprawl back over the mussed blankets, frame draped in his clothes. he’s never been so enamoured, the sight of you wearing something of his just furthering his claim that you’re his sweet little angel. only, it makes him want to fuck you like you’re his little slut, makes him want to split you open on his cock and make you cry for hours and hours.

        you get comfortable, spreading your legs to reveal the soaked-through fabric of your panties. he groans, running a hand through his dark hair before he begins unbuttoning his shirt. the dark fabric is discarded quickly, though he doesn’t bother removing his trousers as he kneels on the bed between your legs.

        “sirius…” you breathe, aching for him by now. he’s observing, hands gently massaging the skin of your legs starting at your ankles. you squirm, following his gaze to the fabric plastered to your core. a second passes, and he dips his head between your legs, hands splayed over your thighs to keep your legs apart. a shrill cry comes from you as he licks a long stripe up your center, tongue gently flicking around your clit through your underwear. “please!”

       he smiles, against you. “so sweet,” his voice comes as a whisper. you tremble as his eyes meet yours, the stormy grey churning with lust for you. teasing you, he places tiny kitten licks against your center, just enough friction to have your hips rolling up into his mouth. but he’s stronger than you, and he’s got you right where he wants you. he has a knack for turning you into a whining, wriggling mess, drunk on his touch.

        “i– fuck, i can’t take it,” you hiss through clenched teeth at his teasing. you watch him through hooded eyes, biting on your bottom lip so hard that it hurts. he catches your eye, swirling the flat of his tongue over your clit. your back arches off of the bed, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

        “poor baby,” he says, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. he sits back on his knees, using one hand to flick open the clasp of his belt. “shall i send you off to bed, then? let you get your beauty sleep, hmm?” his eyes flicker with amusement. his other hand rubs soft circles into the silken skin of your inner thigh. you breathe sharply at the needing ache between your legs. you need him inside of you, badly enough you feel as if you could burst into tears.

       “no, why would i–” you start, shaking your head. he narrows his gaze at you, a warning. you know what he’ll do if you act like a brat, and although you’d enjoy it you don’t think you have the energy tonight. he pats your thigh softly, then finally, painstakingly drags the zipper of his trousers down.

       “be m’good girl then, yeah?” he prompts, moving closer as he palms his bulge through his boxers, then drags the waistband down just enough to let his length spring free. you hum at the sight, licking your lips as he swipes a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it. he spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. two of his fingers push the fabric of your panties out of the way, and he drags the cockhead through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

        a high-pitched, breathy noise graces his ears as his length drags over your clit. you bring your hand to your face, pushing your sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead. he breathes sharply above you, brows screwing together as he nudges your entrance with his length.

        “need you, siri,” you say, pleading. “need you inside me so bad…”

         “i know, dove,” his voice is soft as he leans down, peppering kisses over your face. “been dying to stretch you open since i got home.” he pushes into you, a chorus of pleasured sounds destroying the quiet in your bedroom.

        you cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. it’s been ages since you last had him inside of you, and there’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. he’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. he shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. the other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.

        “oh my fuck–” you cry out, hands reaching for him, fingertips finding his as they dig into your fleshy thigh. he holds your leg there still, hooking one finger with your own without even thinking. his pace is steady, and his cock is dragging deep against your walls. you’re fluttering around him, doing your best to keep your eyes open and drink in his blissed expression.

        “look at you,” he grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. “makin’ a mess everywhere, dove…” the fabric of his trousers and exposed patch of pubic hair are both shining with your juices, and you’re sure there’s a damp spot pooled on the sheets beneath you. he’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into the bundle of nerves. you clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.

        your orgasm approaches unrelentingly. he leans back onto his heels, the angle causing the head of his cock to prod at the spongy flesh of your sweet spot. stars bloom at the edges of your vision, and his name breaks from your lips in a hoarse cry.

        “siri, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. you feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. you bunch his shirt up in your free hand, wringing the fabric desperately as you hold onto him with your other hand. the fabric smells of him, like cigarettes and cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. he’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own.

        “oh, is m’good girl gonna come for me? gonna make a mess of my cock, are you?” that silken voice drowns out everything else in the world. sirius is the only thing on your mind, his ministrations setting your body aflame. pleasure courses through your veins, spreading through your whole body until it’s all you can do to keep yourself from screaming until your throat goes hoarse.

       you cry for him as you come, your entire body seizing and shivering as he guides you through your release. “that’s it,” he says throatily, “oh, you’re doing so good f’me… look at this sweet little cunt pulling me in…” he’s groaning at the feeling of you tightening around him, closer to his own orgasm by the second. you’re still shaking, riding the waves of one of the longest orgasms of your life, and you’re sure a second one is piggybacking on this one, not far from sending your body into violent tremors.

       “siri, it– ah, it’s so sensitive,” you breathe, voice weak. he’s continued his pace both inside of you and on your clit. he’s determined to drain ever ounce of pleasure from your body that he can, his eyes watching your cunt weep around him with pride.

       “you can take it, dove,” he soothes, voice soft. “just one more f’me, can you do that? make me happy, love, just one more…”

        “one–one more?” you breathe, jerking as he slows his hips, allowing you to feel him inside of you more intensely. your mouth falls open involuntarily, your features crumbling into pure bliss as he nods. his movements grow more erratic as his release approaches now.

        “one more,” he repeats, leaning down over you to place a gentle kiss on your lips. his tongue drags over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. the kiss is messy, teeth gnashing and tongues swirling as he fucks you with renewed vigor. the coil in your stomach tightens again, and his movements quicken.

        you’re both drenched in sweat, shaking, as his pubic bone drags over your clit. both of his hands are now pinned to the mattress, caging you in on either side of your head. your hands slide over his ribs, up his back, nails biting into the skin as your second orgasm washes over you.

       he’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. you feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. his groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. he sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

        “my lovely girl,” he mutters, swiping a finger through the mess between your legs. the mix of your arousal glistens on his finger, the sight making your head spin as he brings his digit to your lips. you open your mouth, tongue darting out to swirl around the pad of his finger. you moan at the tang of your mixed release spreading over your tongue. he chuckles, leaning over to swirl his tongue against yours in a heated kiss. you’re panting when he finally pulls away, nipping at your jawline before he sits up, stretching his arms above his head. the sight of him, shimmering with sweat, scratches adorning his ribs and shoulders, hair curled up around his hairline and ears from the humidity, makes your stomach do flips. you shift, leaning up on your elbows as he pads away from the bed.

       “where are you going?” you wonder, frowning at his departure. he’s in the bathroom, the sound of the shower quickly following his footsteps. a second later, he returns to the bedroom.

       “gotta get cleaned up, darling,” he says. he tugs on one of your ankles as you lay there, and you oblige despite the fatigue in your limbs. “c’mon, let’s get this off.” he tugs at the hem of the shirt as he directs you into the bathroom.

        “can you wash my hair?” you ask, yawning as he pulls the shirt over your head.

        “‘course i can, dove. now, in we go...”

[jadedgravity]

Random Mauraders era headcannons

Remus edition

His hair grows weirdly fast

Needs reading glasses but swears he doesn't

Is kind of a picky eater

He will go crazy on some bean salad but wouldn't eat anything in it by itself

He is very prone to paper cuts

He gets them all over his hands and the one time he tried to carry a paper on his mouth while his hands were full, he swore to never do it again

Everyone knows he is full of fun facts but he also just knows what random numbers are dividable by for no reason

He gets the absolute worst bed head

D1 napper and could fall asleep at any moment

Everyone thinks he is so organized but he reorganizes his shit so often that he never remembers where any of it is

[n-e-t-t]

“Is this because of the Ribbon?”

Marauders-Era | Fluff | Slight Smut (lol oops) | Language

Marauders x F!Reader, She/Her (implied Remus x Reader, with unhinged Sirius vibes), one shot

Wardrobe Malfunctions, Ribbon Kink???Friends to Lovers to Crisis

James Potter cursed your wardrobe as a joke, turning everything you owned into clown costumes right on time for the Hogsmeade trip. Lily Evan’s saves the day, in more ways than one.

—————————————

You weren’t planning to scream bloody murder before breakfast.

But here you were, standing in front of your wardrobe, shaking with fury and dressed in what could only be described as a sexy victorian clown costume, complete with frills, lace, and a corset that audibly squeaked when you moved.

A screech clawed its way out your throat, echoing through the entire Gryffindor Tower like some tragic banshee of fashion betrayal. Several second-years cry. A suit of armor on the seventh floor faints. Somewhere, Filch drops his mop.

You stormed into the hallway in full horror-clown regalia, dragging your wand behind you like a medieval weapon. Doors cracked open. Sleepy heads poked out.

“POTTER!” you bellowed, the frills on your sleeves shuddering with rage.

“I CAN EXPLAIN!” he shouted from two floors down.

“I’M GOING TO SKIN YOU AND USE YOUR CAPE AS A DISH TOWEL!”

—————————

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on the edge of Lily Evans’ bed, fuming and half-naked.

“I’m going to kill him,” you muttered. “I’m going to drag him to McGonagall’s office myself and tell ‘er James Potter has been smuggling black-market prank curses into the castle.”

Lily was already rummaging through her wardrobe like the goddess of divine intervention she was.

“You’re not killing him,” she said casually. “He’d haunt you. Badly. Like, blood dripping from the ceiling, your shampoo smelling like vinegar, bad.”

You groaned. “I was supposed to be hot today.”

“You still can be.” She turned around holding a soft, floral dress in pale blue. Like right out of an advert for baby powder or laundry detergent. “Wear this.”

You blinked.

Lily raised a brow. “You want to go to Hogsmeade looking like Ronald McDonald’s mistress, or do you want to look like someone Sirius Black would walk into a lamppost over?”

You blinked again. “…I’ll take the dress.”

She grinned. “Thought so.”

—————————

Twenty minutes later, you stood in front of the mirror, unrecognizable.

Soft dress. Babydoll shoes. No smoky eye. Hair half-up, secured with a simple little white ribbon Lily tied with practiced fingers.

You looked like you were about to write poetry in a field and then stab a man behind a rose bush.

You twirled once.

You looked… pretty. In a different way than usual.

And you could practically feel the chaos building like storm clouds outside.

You smiled to yourself.

“Let’s go emotionally devastate four boys.”

—————————

The boys were already waiting when you arrived.

James was showing off his new broom catalogue to Peter. Sirius was lounging on a stone bench like the sun was contractually obligated to shine on him. Remus was reading (shocking), sipping something warm and absolutely not ready for what was about to hit him like a rogue bludger to the groin.

Then you walked out.

Soft dress. Bare legs. Ribbon in your hair. No eyeliner. Lip gloss. Cheekbones from heaven. A literal angel sent to punish them all.

James looks up. Drops his broom catalogue. A look of sheer disappointment and despair in his eyes. “Oh no.”

Peter gasps audibly.

Remus spits out his tea. Coughs. Whispers something that sounds like “fuck” in four different languages. Looks back down at his book like it might physically protect him.

Sirius stands up too fast. Regrets it instantly. Adjusts his trousers like he’s hiding a cursed object. Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide. Says nothing. Just vibrates.

“Morning, boys,” you say, voice dipped in honey and war crimes.

James chokes. Lily hits him.

Sirius, dazed. “Where… where did your eyeliner go?”

“I killed it.” You said bluntly.

Peter. “She’s a bloody threat to society. With that… bow?”

You lean over to Lily and whisper. “I feel like I could kill a man. But like… politely.”

—————————

You walked out of Honeydukes holding a small bag of sweets and a dangerous amount of confidence. The soft skirt of Lily’s dress swayed with every step. The ribbon fluttered in the breeze like a personal attack. People stared. Whispers followed you like perfume. Some poor fifth year tripped over his own feet and hit a lamp post.

You didn’t even notice. You were too busy existing.

James, eating a Fizzing Whizbee too fast to avoid having to speak keeps muttering to himself, “She’s literally a clown. She’s a clown. I cursed her into a clown. What is this. What IS this?”

You leaned over. Smiling. “Say it, Potter. I wore your curse better than you expected.”

James softly spoke, staring into the void. “You wore it like vengeance and sugar. I regret everything.”

Sirius walks two paces behind you like a guard dog who keeps forgetting his job.

Keeps looking at your legs and then up at the sky like it might smite him. At one point, you laugh too loud and he walks into a flower cart. Full impact. Petunias everywhere.

Lily was far from pleased.

Remus has gone full “rebooting Windows 95”. His mind going that quickly that he thought of something that hadn’t even been invented yet. He stares for too long. Blinks twice as often. Keeps looking down at his shoes like they hold the answer to why his friend looks like a blooming poem.

“Remus, you alright?” You ask over your shoulder, canines on show.

Remus, lying through his teeth. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be? This is fine. Everything is fine. The air’s just different today. Wetter. Wetter air.”

Sirius butts in, flower petals in his hair. “You’re sweating.”

Remus snips. “It’s the dew point, Sirius. Read a book.”

—————————

When they returned back to the castle, Lily is half-crying, half-wheezing on her bed while you pace around still in the dress, arms flung wide like you’re giving a monologue on a west end stage.

“I felt like a woman, Lily. Like a 1950s housewife who hides arsenic in the lemon drizzle.”

Lily, wheezing. “You BROKE them.”

“I liberated them.”

“I didn’t even know Remus had tear ducts.”

They collapse into giggles. Ribbons and victory strewn everywhere.

Meanwhile, in the boys dorm,

Sirius is laying on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling like it just told him he’s going to die alone.

James, from the corner. “You okay, Pads?”

“She wore a ribbon, James. A ribbon.”

Remus. “It was… nice.”

Sirius sits up violently. “It was spiritual.”

Peter. “Do you think she’d let me be her footstool? Like in a respectful way?”

Remus. “Shut the fuck up, Pete.”

—————————

The next morning, you walk into the common room like it’s just another day. Casual. Hair tied back. Smoky eye back on. She’s back, baby.

But the ribbon?

It’s dangling from your fingers. The same one from yesterday. You’re chewing gum and humming something vaguely catchy.

Remus is on the couch, book open, legs crossed like he’s got composure and dignity left in his life.

He’s wrong.

You flop down beside him, legs tucked under you like a cat. You fiddle with the ribbon now, twisting it between your fingers.

“I was gonna give this back,” You say, holding it up, “but then I thought… you’re sentimental, right? You’d appreciate a relic of the day I emotionally dismantled you all.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t dismantled.”

You smiled. “You sneezed into your Butterbeer when I winked at you.”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks back at his book like it’s going to save him.

Then—you take his wrist.

No warning. Just gentle fingers and firm intention. And you start tying the ribbon around it. Soft. Precise. A little bow.

“Now you can be the pretty one today.”

You don’t think anything of it. You just grin and pat his hand before hopping up to go bother James about the latest Quidditch drama.

Remus sits there. His own voice talking to himself in his already damaged physique.

Oh my God. She called me pretty. She tied the fucking ribbon. Like fucking bondage. Girly, feminine bondage. I can never take it off. This is a relic now. This is a horcrux of lust and longing. I’m going to die in this fucking ribbon. I’m so fucking touch starved-

I just—did I—did I actually—

Oh no.

I JUST BUSTED IN MY TROUSERS.

WHAT THE FUCK. WHO AM I. I AM A MONSTER.

Sirius, from across the room, squinting.

“Why is Remus sitting like he just got hit by a Confundus and an orgasm at the same time?”

“She touched him. With the ribbon.” Said Peter.

Sirius. “WE NEED TO BAN THE RIBBON.”

—————————

You’d already left for class when James strides up to Remus, parchment under his arm, halfway through a random conversation. “Moony, come on, we’re gonna be late for—why are you sitting like you’ve just committed a felony?”

Remus doesn’t even look up. Just mutters:

“No.”

James. “No?”

Remus, faint, distant. “I can’t go. I’m sick. I have… I have diarrhoea.” Great one Remus absolutely brilliant well done where’s the fucking confetti?

James blinks. “Mate. Are you okay?”

Remus, dead serious. “It’s violent. Sudden. I don’t want to talk about it.”

James. “We literally have five minutes before Flitwick locks the door—”

Remus, more intense now. “James, I’m actively unwell.”

James, visibly concerned. “Should I—should I get Pomfrey? Is it the full moon stuff? Do you need your calming draught?”

Remus, eyes wide, sweating. “NO. No. No Pomfrey. Just—just leave me. Let me die in peace.”

James, whispering as he walks away. “Is this what happens when we let him read Austen before bed?”

—————————

You’re outside the classroom, twirling your wand, looking mildly annoyed.

“Where’s Remus?”

James stopped next to you, frazzled. “He said he has diarrhoea.”

You still your fingers. “Since when does he announce it?”

Sirius, in a grim, yet oddly husky tone. “Since you tied a fucking ribbon on him like he’s your little house-elf boyfriend and called him pretty.”

Peter, quietly. “He hasn’t moved since. It was… intimate.”

—————————

Remus Lupin has locked himself in the bathroom. The door is warded. The windows are fogged. He has not emerged in 42 minutes.

Rumors are rampant. Lily knows. Marlene knows. The Fat Lady knows. Peter thinks he’s died. James thinks he’s having a nervous breakdown. Sirius knows exactly what happened, and is considering sending him a sympathy potion with a little umbrella in it. And an invitation.

And you?

You’re done playing games.

You stomp up to the bathroom door, arms crossed, expression set to “emergency nurse meets furious ex-wife.”

“REMUS. MOONY. HELLO. Is this because of the ribbon?! They’re saying it’s the ribbon?! I’m- I’m sorry Remus-“

“NO. I HAVE FUCKING DIARRHOEA, SWEETHEART. IT BURNS. PLEASE JUST PISS OFF, YEAH?!” Shouted Remus, muffled through the door and his own self loathing.

James, from down the hall. “Love, just walk away. He’s not coming back from this.”

Sirius, leaning casually against the wall. “He’s never been this dramatic. And this is a man who wrote a ten-page essay on how his tea went cold too fast last week. On the different places the drafts come through the stonework, right up against the coffee table-“

“Was it the ribbon?” You snipped at Sirius.

“Oh, sweetheart. That boy came unhinged the moment you tied it. That ribbon saw more action than anyone in this castle. Apart from me, of course,” Sirius spoke through his smirk.

Remus, screaming, somewhere between humiliation and actual death. “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKS!” His voice broke.

You yelled through the door.

“Just say it, Lupin! Say it was the ribbon! Say it and I’ll bake you a chocolate pie!”

“FUCK YOUR PIE!”

—————————

Remus finally emerges. Disheveled. Pale. Emotionally bankrupt. More than usual.

The ribbon?

Still on his wrist.

It was like his limp never existed, the way he all but teleported down the hall.

Sirius leaned into you real close, his smoke breath on your ear as his eyes bite into the back of Remus’ head. “Teach me your ways, please?”

James walked up.

“I can’t believe I accidentally created this timeline by charming her wardrobe. I am a god.”

………………………………

Sorry about this okay byeeeeeeee

[cravingcoldoreocake123]

Birds of a feather - SMAU

ur.username

Liked by dracopurebl0od, tomriddle_ and 78 other people

ur.username About yesterday… 🤪

tagged dracopurebl0od, nottheonott, mattheo.r, enzo_berkshire, fwpansy, tomriddle_, whosblaise

dracopurebl0od Who’s the sexy blond in the first pic 😍

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whosblaise uh designated photographer tag please? 🤨

ur.username right sorry 💔

Edit 📸 thanks to whosblaise

mattheo.r

Liked by nottheonott, tomriddle_ and 56 other people

mattheo.r Love babysitting my nephew 🤗

nottheonott somebody save that poor child

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fwpansy

Liked by enzo_berkshire, whosblaise and 28 other people

fwpansy why does he sleep like a victorian era child sick with the plague 💀

tagged nottheonott

nottheonott i did NOT consent to this getting posted.

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ur.username HE SNORES LIKE ONE TOO

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ur.username

Liked by dracopurebl0od, tomriddle_ and 100 other people

ur.username one single thread of gold tied me to you <3

tagged dracopurebl0od

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mattheo.r YOU OWE ME 10 BUCKS enzo_berkshire

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whosblaise trynna be like them ahaha fwpansy i will literally kill you whosblaise mb 💔

[siriuslynettey]

Hogwarts Christmas Aesthetic 🕯️🎄🧹

[semetarydrve]

Our Little Secret

╭─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╮

CW: smut, light light wolfstar, threesome

Pairing: Remus x Reader x Sirius

WC: 1.9k

╰─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╯

You crept down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, checking over your shoulder to make sure you didn’t get caught. When you reached the door you knocked softly and waited. It opened to reveal Remus and he ushered you in quietly.

"Hey Remus.“ You said shrugging off your robe and tossing it on James bed. “Just us?” You said noticing the empty room around you.

“For a little yes. Everyone else went out to play Quidditch for a bit. How was your day?” He asked sitting on his bed, his eyes looking over your tiny sleeping shorts and skimpy tank top as you planted yourself next to him.

“Long day and I’m so tired but I got almost all of my course work that’s due finished. You?” You said reaching your arms above your head to stretch.

“Good on you. You do seem exhausted, would you like a back rub?” He offered innocently. You nodded.

“You know what that does sound nice, here let me lay down.” You said crawling to the head of the bed and laying on your stomach. Remus positioned himself above you and began working on your shoulders. His hands were warm and comforting, your body beginning to relax under his touch.

“As for my day it was just a lot of homework as well. I’m happy you stopped by though it always brightens my day.” He said slowly moving down to your lower back.

“Mmm you’re so sweet Rem.” You hummed, loosing focus as he began to work at your muscles. “Could you do my legs as well? Pretty please?”

“Well since you asked so nicely how could I say no.” He replied, moving down. His hands gently rubbed at the back of your lower thigh making its way up. Remus felt embarrassed, realizing he was semi hard from the close contact. It didn’t come as a surprise seeing as he’d found himself touching to the thought of you. His hands found their way to your upper thighs, his thumbs gently moving inward. You stayed quiet, feeling a little flutter in your stomach as his thumbs grazed over the thin fabric covering your cunt. It could have been an accident, but you wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t. You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t always had a deep attraction to each of the boys. Remus adjusted to get more comfy, his erection briefly pressing into your leg.

“Could you go a little higher?” You asked, feigning ignorance. He said a small yes and you moved to open your legs wider. He swallowed hard and started to move his hands closer to your pussy. The pad of his thumb brushed under your shorts, his eyes widened when he felt how wet you were. For a moment he paused, thinking carefully about his next actions. Almost as to help encourage him you arched your back ever so slightly, giving him better access. He took the opportunity and moved your shorts to the side, gently pushing his fingers inside. You moaned and gripped the sheets.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked nervously, realizing his lack of experience meant he wasn’t quite used to taking the lead.

“Do I have to beg?” You joked, rolling your hips back to signal he should speed up. Your consent made him feel at ease so he did as you wanted and began pleasuring you. “Oh my god Remus.” He looked on in awe, admiring your body.

“Can you lay on your back for me?” He asked withdrawing his fingers. You whined and flipped over.

“Why’d you stop I was getting close?” You protested as you sat up to face him.

“Because I’ve been waiting to do this.” He said before catching your lips in a needy kiss. You slowly laid back, pulling him down with you. He held himself up with one hand while the other found its place between your legs again. In an instant his fingers were back inside of you, working desperately to get you off. You moaned into his mouth and grabbed a fist of his hair to pull him back.

“Please give me head.” You said watching his face light up. Without stopping his movements he moved down to level himself with your core. He pulled the shorts farther to the side and inhaled deeply. You smelled heavenly. You jumped at the feeling of his tongue finding your clit, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. His tongue worked over the sensitive nub while his fingers curled in you. If you hadn’t been so engrossed in each other you might have heard the door open and shut, or the quiet ‘holy shit’ that fell from Sirius’ lips. He cleared his throat and you both shot up. Remus’ face flushed and you tried to stutter out an explanation. Sirius saw your faces and smirked.

“Oh no no. Don’t let me stop you. Seems like I’ve interrupted something.” He said casually kicking his shoes off and placing his things on his bed.

“I should go.” You said, face burning from embarrassment.

“I said continue.” Sirius said sitting on the bed closet to you. You and Remus looked between each other, both confused. “Oh don’t play coy Remus. Like we haven’t discussed this before.”

“Sirius not now-“

“Discussed what?” You asked cutting him off.

“About what we’d do to you if we ever got the chance.” He said casually. Your eyes widened, then darting to lock with Sirius’. His mouth was etched into a sly grin, seemly excited to finally tell you.

“Is that true Rem?” You asked turning back to him. He nodded meekly, afraid you’d be upset. To both of their surprise you reached out to palm Remus who was still aching to be touched. “Alright then. Show me what you guys talk about.” You said leaning in to kiss Remus again.

“That’s our girl.” Sirius said unbuckling his pants. You reached to do the same for Remus, freeing him from his confinements. You pulled away and gently laid him back, getting ready to give him head. As you leveled yourself with his cock you realized this might be a more difficult task than expected.

“Good God Remus you’re huge.” You exclaimed, earning a chuckle from both boys. Remus opened his mouth to answer but was cut short by the feeling of your tongue licking a thick stripe up the underside of his shaft. Sirius watched on quietly, slowly stroking himself at the sight. He figured it was best to give you two a moment to finish what you’d started. You inched your way down, only able to make it two thirds of the way down before he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Remus groaned at the feeling. His hands tangled themselves in your hair to hold your head still while he started rocking his hips. You tried your best to breathe while he used your throat. A moan from Sirius encouraged you to keep going. Remus’ hips bucked and he pulled out of your mouth quickly.

“I was getting close. I’d like you to come to the edge of the bed.” He said breathlessly. You quickly got off him and got into position, resting your head to face Sirius. Remus wasted no time pulling down your shorts down and lining himself up. Sirius watched intently as your eyes rolled back, squealing from the feeling of Remus stretching you out. Once Remus had gotten as deep as he could he stayed still, giving you a moment to adjust. Then he began his slowly and steady strokes, grabbing your hips to keep you close. When Sirius saw a lazy smile on your face, lost in the feeling of his friend fucking you he decided it was time to join in. He stood up and stripped, finding his way behind Remus to look over you.

“You’re so gentle with her Lupin.“ He said snaking his arm around to grasp Remus’ throat. He shuddered at his touch. “Why don’t you go a little faster?” He suggested keeping his grip loose. Remus whimpered and obliged, snapping his hips forward and picking up his pace. You let out a loud moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your hand to find your clit. Sirius leaned down to kiss Remus’ neck, suddenly tightening his hand around his throat. This drove him over the edge, his fingers digging into your skin as he started fucking you harder.

“Yes Remus right there!” You mewled, feeling your orgasm coming. Sirius parted from Remus just in time to look down and watch as you came. The sound of you calling his name sent him over the edge and he quickly pulled out, cum painting your backside. He slowly pulled out, Sirius turning him around to capture his lips in a kiss. You sat up and turned to looked back, having never known the extent of their relationship. ‘Makes sense’ you thought. Sirius broke away and turned to you. His hungry gaze raked over your body for a moment before he stepped forward. His presence was far more intense than Remus. He leaned down to kiss you.

“I need you to turn around for me.” He commanded. You nodded and quickly turned. Sirius guided you to lay face down ass up. The second he got into position he rammed his length into you. You yelped in surprise and lurched forward. Remus sat down next to you and gently pushed your hair from your face, his other hand wrapped around his cock. Sirius gripped your hips harshly and pinned you in place, unbothered by his friend’s cum coating his hands. He started thrusting, using you to pleasure himself. "You’re doing so good.“ He growled, unable to hold back. Your legs began to quake, still weak from the first round.

"You look so pretty (y/n).” Remus moaned. You just nodded weakly as Sirius brushed you g-spot again and again. He felt your walls getting tighter and chuckled.

“You’re gonna cum already?” Sirius teased.

“Mhm.” You moaned, beginning to rock your hips to meet him halfway.

“Ask for permission first.” Sirius replied.

“Huh?” You asked but as the last syllable left your mouth he brought his hand down to spank you.

“I said you need permission to cum.” He snarled, snapping his hips to thrust faster.

“May I please cum?” You begged, excited by the new experience.

“That’s better. Yes you can, but next time I won’t be so easy on you.” He purred. Remus stroked faster as he watched your legs give out. Sirius held you up to continue, feeling his own orgasm coming. He looked over to his friend and reached to caress his face. Remus eagerly moved forward to capture his lips. This was enough to help Sirius finish, hastily pulling out and cumming on the bed. His grip on you loosened and you let yourself collapse onto the bed, breathing hard.

For a moment you all sat without a word, just catching your breath. You broke the silence with a hearty laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Sirius asked lying down next to you looking up at the ceiling.

“Just wasn’t expecting this to ever happen.” You said rolling over to hug him. He pulled you close and kissed your forehead before you sat up.

“Me neither. Did you have fun?” Remus asked covering himself with a pillow. You nodded.

“Of course. So now what?” You asked looking back and forth between them.

“I don’t see why it has to be a one time thing.” Sirius said sitting up.

“It sure doesn’t.” You said with a cheeky smile. “I’d better get out of here and get cleaned up before everyone else gets back.” You said scooting forward and fixing your clothes. The boys saw you off and when they were finally alone they couldn’t help but recount the afternoon.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((again) again) , I wrote this for all of you :D Thank you to my first not irl moot, Bee (@swans-chirping-in-the-distance) for beta reading this ily girl 😭 Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of anxiety, night thoughts (iykyk), reader wants to strangle Sirius lmao, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, reader is a Ravenclaw, reader is in the year below Sirius, reader is a bookworm, reader gets stressed apt academics - don't even try to call people like that nerds, anxiety for this sorta stuff is really serious, reader snaps at Sirius, reader’s nicknames are sweetheart, love and angel, slowburn kinda- they're just figuring stuff out, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.

Pairing: Sirius Black x GN!Ravenclaw!Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ʜᴀᴛᴇ ─────•°•☁︎•°•─────•

The halls were quiet. 

 Too quiet.  

And you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from traversing the halls of Hogwarts, relishing in the darkness that enveloped the halls, and ultimately concealing you from any prying eyes.  

Stars twinkled through the windows that cast soft rays on moonlight onto the empty halls of Hogwarts, you should’ve felt at ease. 

But you didn’t. 

Technically, you shouldn’t be awake right now, and technically, you shouldn’t be in the halls right now, either, given the strict curfew Hogwarts has on its students. 

Didn’t stop you from leaving though. 

You had just finished a big essay for Herbology, and your anxiety had gotten the best of you, creating the twisting feeling in your gut, the one of failure, your subconscious whispering false notions and spiraling into possible timelines of being forced to work as Filch’s assistant because you failed to pass your exams, and- 

Needless to say, you needed to clear your head.  

Which is why you snuck out of Ravenclaw Tower, and why you were walking through the halls of Hogwarts. 

And why you now found yourself hiding behind one of the almost intimidating, looming pillars in the hall, footsteps resounding through the hallways.  

Your heart pounds - you would for sure be screwed if you were caught. Your mind races, thinking of countless possible ways your life would be ruined if whoever was there found you.  

Your body feels like it’s on fire, buzzing with the urge to run and hide, back into the safety of your sheets; better to give yourself to the torment of your thoughts than be caught in a place you weren’t supposed to.  

You curse mentally to yourself, until a husky masculine voice snaps you out of your mental tirade of self-abuse. 

“You can come out, sweetheart; I won’t bite. I’m supposed to be here as much as you are.” the male says smoothly. He had voice of a man who thrived off his confidence.  

Your body physically slumps in relief at the knowledge that it isn’t a professor. And then the tension came back, once you realized who the voice belonged to.  

Sirius Black.  

The boy in question was in the year above you, but it didn’t stop him from continuing his onslaught of pestering you when he could. And you tolerated it- knowing this was just how the Marauders were sometimes- but then Sirius did the unimaginable.  

You were reading your book- one of mystery and romance, each inked word drawing you in more and more until the book was physically ripped from your hands, your progress lost in the process. To say you were furious was an understatement.  

You probably yelled at him for 20 minutes straight, going on a tangent about how you never do that to someone and that he was an unsufferable prick, and yet all that son of a Blast-Ended Screwt did was stare at you with those stupidly gorgeous eyes and an even stupider grin plastered on his face.  

And after that day, he had made a point to poke fun at you whenever he could.  

Maybe running into a professor in the middle of the night wouldn’t be so bad.  

“I know you’re there, love.” he says; you can practically hear the smug grin on his face.  

“Shove off Black, you’re not supposed to be out either.” you bite, speaking in hushed tones unlike the loud boy on the other side of the pillar you were hiding behind.  

“That may be true, but I’ve never been good at following rules, have I?” he teases, trying to rile you up. “But I seem to have caught the Ravenclaw’s self-righteous angel doing some misdemeanors of their own.” 

You want to wring his neck- stupid Black doesn’t know anything- doesn't know how much your anxiety bothered you at night, and the moment you try to get some reprieve, you have to deal with him.  

“Can you actually shut your mouth?! You don’t know anything about me, and you never will, so stop acting like you can read me so easily, because maybe, just maybe, people have lives outside of you and your thick head Black.” You snap, storming off from your hiding place where Sirius can see you, determined to leave for Ravenclaw Tower. 

But before you can, he grabs your wrist, tugging you backward and into his chest- strong arms wrapping around you and securing your frame, effectively trapping you in his embrace.  

“There you are.” he whispers. 

You feel your face heat up, the proximity of the two of you was unbearable, his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck. You tense up, and yet, some part of you melts into his touch- and you hate it.  

“What in the world are you talking about, Black.” your tone harsh but no bite.  

You feel his head tilt up. The arms encircling you tighten as his tone turns thoughtful. 

“Do you hate me?” 

That caught you off guard. “What?” you stutter, taken aback. 

“Do you hate me, angel.” he repeats calmly, still looking through what you think in the window on the opposite wall from the both of you.  

You look down in contrast, mulling over his words. Do you hate...Sirius Black? Sure, he annoyed you to the end of the world, made your blood boil to the point where he could cook pasta with it, and made you want to rip the strands of your hair out, but somehow, hating him didn’t seem right. It didn’t sound right, the words hate and Sirius Black.  

“No.” you whisper, deciding to look up at the window with him. “I can’t.” 

You know he’s smiling when he softly says, “Me neither.”  

You both don’t say anything after that, silence ringing out through the halls of Hogwarts, and after a few minutes of just standing there in each other's presence, you speak.  

“So where does that leave us?”