You drop your forehead against his hip, your lashes fluttering shut. He slowly steps out of his pants and pulls you back up to your feet. Bucky’s wandering hands slip your dress over your head. 

“Cmere,” you whisper, tugging him back on the bed.

He falls onto you with a laugh. “Someone’s excited,” he teases, crawling over you. His knees push between yours, spreading your legs to make room for himself.

You drag your palms along his sides, appreciating each dip and curve. “Shut it,” you glare playfully as you tilt your head up for a kiss. 

Bucky smiles against your lips, his facial hair tickling your cheeks. He hums softly, then slips his hands around your back. His warm fingers slip beneath your underwear and slid them down.

You wiggle your hips to help him get rid of the thin barrier. You expected him to slip off his boxers too, but he just crawls back over you. He nips gently at your stomach on the way back up to you. He ghosts his lips over yours.

You giggle to yourself as he flips you over, dragging you on top of him. You sit up in his lap, teasing your lip between your teeth in thought. 

“I wanna try something,” Bucky whispers, his cold metal fingers dancing a path up your thigh. 

From the look in his eye, you know exactly what he was thinking of. Something hot and nervous coils in your stomach.

“Buck, I don’t know-” You huff, your nails gently scratching down his chest.

He rolls his eyes playfully as he urges you to continue scooting up his lap. His hands gently guide you up his body, his intentions clear. A soft blush heats your cheeks as you move, now hovering over him, knees on either side of his head. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh.

“Are you sure?” You swallow awkwardly, a timid feeling curling in your gut.

His teeth scrape the tender flesh of your thigh. “Yes, I’m sure. Let me take care of you.” He gently stroked his rough palms down your hips. 

You scoot up a little further. “I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll guide you.” His warm breath tickles your sensitive skin. “I’ll go slow.” You nod hesitantly. His large hands firmly grip your waist and slowly guide you down. You gasp as he presses a soft kiss to your cunt. 

Bucky’s slick tongue strokes slow and careful against your folds. Your hips twitch above him, but his strong arms lock around your thighs and keeps you seated. Bucky hums against you, the quiet vibrations sending a shock through your body. 

Your thighs shake as you struggle to not clamp your legs around his head. Your trembling hands slide against the headboard as you try to keep yourself up. Bucky makes a displeased sound from between your legs. 

His lips make a wet sound as he pulls back. “All the way, sweetheart,” the soft pinch in his brow makes your stomach twist. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” you pant, timid about resting your full weight against him. 

Bucky chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling your core. He looks up at you with a reassuring smile. “You won’t hurt me, baby.” He gently bit the tender flesh of your inner thigh. “So please, doll, just sit on my fuckin’ face.”

You groan, a sweaty hand slapping down your face. “Jesus, Buck-” You gasp, trying to catch your breath. “Okay- but if it’s too much, you’ll tap me to let me know?”

He softens beneath you, his thumb stroking you gently. “If it’s too much, I’ll move you, okay? Now stop stalling and sit down, before I pull you down myself.”

His strong hands press firmly into your hips as you finally lower yourself, resting your full weight on him. Bucky releases a deep, satisfied moan against you, his arms sliding to lock back around your thighs.

His jaw works slowly as his slick tongue strokes your clit. You gasp, rocking into him slightly. His rough stubble drags deliciously against your core, burning and tingling.

Bucky suppresses a smile as you start grinding down onto him. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently. He hums again, and you almost topple over. The slick sounds of your core mix with the depraved groans slipping from Bucky’s throat as he devours you. Hungry, like a man starved.

His slick tongue dips into your soaked cunt, his stubble burning against your center. You moan softly, your palms sliding down the wall. Your eyes snap open when his fingers slip around your wrists, guiding your hands into his hair. 

Your lashes flutter and your stomach tenses. His jaw opened wider as he tilted his head into you, his nose pressing firmly against your clit. 

“Fuck-” You gasp, yanking at dark strands of hair. 

Bucky’s metal fingers gently tap your hip, reminding you to keep your eyes open. You whine softly looking down at him as his tongue pushes inside you.

He groans quietly, each delicious drag of his lips and tongue making you shudder. He holds you down on him, face buried in your pussy. He sucks gently on your clit, then circles it with his tongue, only to trail down and flutter it against your throbbing cunt.

You gasp, back arching as you roll your hips. Your stomach coils and your thighs tense. Bucky groans softly as you ride his face, grinding and dragging your cunt over his tongue. He grips your hips tightly and guides your motion, controlling your pace.

You whine and tug at his hair, making his lashes flutter. You shudder, nearly sobbing as he latches onto your clit and sucks, with maintained pressure. 

Over your own senseless moans, you hear him. Grunting and teetering on the edge, sucking in staggering breath as he worships you. He’s almost as lost as you are as he presses his face deeper. 

You sob, rolling your hips against him. Your back arches, you fist his hair, your breath hitches in your chest. Bucky dutifully maintains his rhythm, dragging his tongue through your folds, then circling your clit with the flat of his tongue. 

Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, peaking and sweeping you beneath the current of pleasure. You roll your hips against his face as he moans against you, the vibrations wracking you with tremors. 

“Fuck-” you gasp. “Bucky,” you pant, staring down at him.

Your thighs tremble, but he doesn’t seem finished with you. You feel the shift as this becomes less about you and more about him. About him needing to worship you. 

He moans against you, his slick tongue dipping back inside you. 

“Buck- fuck, I can’t,” you whine, your hips stuttering. 

His strong arms keep you locked in place as he drags you into blissful overstimulation. Your head rolls back, your thighs helplessly clenching against him. He hums quietly, pressing wet kisses to your core. 

“Please- fuck-” You whimper, your fingers raking back strands of dark hair. 

He relents with a sigh, his firm grip on you loosening. He trails soft kisses from your center, down your inner thighs, his stubble dragging deliciously against your flesh. 

You’re trembling above him, legs weak from straining. Bucky makes a pleased noise and lifts you off of him. He presses you gently into the mattress, then captures your lips in a wet kiss.

You moan weakly, tasting yourself on his tongue. The thought seems to turn him on. He pants into your mouth, his metal hand stroking soothingly along your side. 

“Did so good, baby,” he whispers, peppering soft, slick kisses down your throat. You push your hand into his hair, tickling his nape with your nails. 

“Fuck, Bucky,” you whisper, your eyes falling shut as he quietly showers you in his devotion. You feel him smile against your shoulder.

“Taste so good,” he mutters, snickering when you smack his arm. He glances up at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re so pretty for me.”

You groan, tugging him back in for a heated kiss. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

A/N: Minors do not interact. Ageless and empty bios WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU INTERACT.

James turned around to see you emerging from the girls’ dorm in your pyjamas, and he smiled faintly at that. You were comfortable enough around him that your pyjamas didn’t matter, which he appreciated.

“I can’t sleep.” he admitted, shrugging as he set his quill down gently on the table, eyes drifting scarcely over the page he was just writing on as he spoke again. “I thought I might as well go back over this.”

“Madman.” you giggled, filling the tea kettle up with water. You took two cups from the cupboard and dropped a teabag into each one. “What is it that you’re doing?”

"Just trying to figure out this bloody Charms work that Flitwick wants by Friday," James said, running a hand through his messy hair. He watched you as you made the tea, his eyes lingering on the way you shuffled around without even thinking about it. “You can’t sleep either?"

“No.” was all you needed to say, and you didn’t dare tell James that the reason why you were up was because you’d had a pretty rattling dream about him in particular.

James tilted his head slightly as he observed you, his eyes studying your expression. He could tell that you were thinking about something, but he wasn't sure what it was.

"Nightmare?" he asked quietly, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Not this time, actually.” you replied, looking over at James as you filled each mug up with water. You were known for having vivid dreams, and on occasion, they were prophetic. It was a magical thing. Your mother had it, too. “Just a weird one.”

James raised an eyebrow as he heard you mention having weird dreams, his curiosity piqued. He shifted a little on the floor, patting the spot next to him.

"Come here," he said, gesturing for you to sit down beside him in front of the fireplace.

That made you smile. You liked James. He was a good friend, and he didn’t need a reason to be. You nodded, bringing over both cups of tea and setting them down on the table before sitting on the floor next to James.

“Come on then, if you’re studying.” you said, holding your hands out for James’ notes.

James chuckled softly as he handed over his notes, watching as you took them from him. He appreciated the way you were so willing to help him, even when you were up and about at an ungodly hour.

He leaned back against the sofa, watching the way the flickering of firelight illuminated your face and destroyed any illusions of tiredness that were lingering previously. It almost made you look as if you were glowing.

You took the notes, reading through them, deciphering what you could turn into a question. “What are the three things that can be enchanted will the spell movere avem?”

James drummed his fingers on his knee as he thought for a moment, trying to recall the answer.

"Okay, I know that’s the spell for enchanting things that have been transfigured from birds; because we were running around last week trying to catch a pigeon to use it for a quaffle." he laughed.

You giggled at that, nodding. James was always making you laugh, and he looked good doing it. Which was a thought that bad never entered your mind before. “Okay, so you enchant Quidditch balls with it, what else?”

James smirked at hearing your laugh, enjoying the sound of it. He thought for a moment longer, trying to remember the other two things.

"Uh... a birdcage, maybe?" he offered, but it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

“Balls, brooms, and tree branches.” you gave James the answer, looking up at him over the paper. “Okay, let’s take a new angle.”

You set the paper down, turning to face him. Your hair was hanging loosely around your shoulders and the strap of your tank top was close to falling off your shoulder. “How would you light the fireplace and keep it burning using only magic?”

James' gaze was drawn to the strap of your tank top as it slipped down your shoulder, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin for a moment before flicking back up to meet yours.

"Well, that's easy," he said, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Chuck a log on the fire, light it, then just keep levitating the logs onto it. Like you do.”

“That’s good,” you said, looking up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “But you’re missing something.”

James' eyes flicked over your expression as he noticed it. He felt a swell of pride when you told him the answer he gave you was good, but he wasn’t sure what was absent from it. He was desperate to know, desperate to make it right so that he could do really good, already unintentionally seeking validation from you.

"Am I?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay so if you’re thinking about how I light the fire, there’s something else I do to the logs so that they burn well.” you explained, muttering a quick incantation to your wand and levitating a log onto the fire as you waited for James to answer.

"Drying them out, maybe?" he guessed, his eyes flickering over you as he tried to figure out what you were getting at.

“See, there you go, you did know it.” you replied sweetly, smiling matter of factly. “You’re doing good.”

James's expression softened when you spoke, because he was basking in the validation of you telling him he’d done a good job. That was one thing about James you didn’t know. He folded when pretty girls were telling him he’d done a good job.

“Yeah,” he answered, throat dry.

“Okay, so if you wanted to put the fire out?” you asked, setting your wand back down and sipping your cup of tea.

“Aguamenti?”

“It would, but it’s messy, and then you have to deal with the wet ashes.” you explained. “Come on, you’re clever enough to know this.”

James ran a hand through his hair, still trying to remember the answer. He was starting to get distracted by the thought of you calling him clever. That, and how much he enjoyed hearing you say it. How much he wanted to hear you say it while he was-

"Right, right," he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "What's the answer, then? I feel like there's something obvious I'm missing."

“Aguamenti’s right if you want to put out a fire quickly, but if you want to do it without making a mess..” you turned towards the fire and rocked up onto your knees, holding your wand up to your mouth and whispering something, then blowing down the edge of your wand onto the fire, plunging the room into darkness.

With a quick Lumos, you could see again, the tip of your wand glowing. “Ta-da.”

“I need to pay more attention in Charms.” was all James said, gazing over at you from where he was leaning against the sofa.

“Don’t be silly.” you said, chucking another log on the fire and lighting it, so that you didn’t have to use your wand to illuminate the room anymore. “You’re perfectly clever, really. Clever enough to not need my help.”

“It’s not that I’m not clever, I just can’t ever remember how to do this bloody work.”

“Well, then use your clever brain and figure it out.” you teased. “Come on. What’s the spell for enchanting kitchen tools to move?”

James groaned inwardly as you challenged him again, but he couldn't help the way he felt when you told him to use his clever brain. Without knowing it, you were validating him in ways he’d never have expected from you. If he had been stood up, his knees would have buckled. He thanked the universe that he wasn’t.

"Um... Circumrota momentus," he answered, hoping that he was right.

“Yes, good!” you replied, proud smile spreading across your face. “That was a hard one, I did that on purpose, but that’s good. You’re doing well.” you praised, looking around the room and trying to think of another question.

James shut his eyes as soon as you looked away, willing himself to just be normal for once and keep it together. His breaths were shallowing every time you let him know how well he was doing, how good he was, how clever.

“Okay, quick-fire. Ready?” you asked, looking down at the page as you skimmed over it.

James nodded, knowing he had to regain at least some of his composure if he wanted to get away with this. You’d probably have freaked out if you knew what you were doing to him. He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, but to you it looked as if he was just getting comfortable.

“What’s the spell for getting seeds out of a tree that’s already grown?”

“Semina arboris?”

“That’s good.” you nodded. “Well done.”

James just nodded back. He didn’t have time to think about it before you were quizzing him again.

“How to make plants grow twice as fast?”

“Crescere velocious.”

“Good.” you praised, smiling as you looked up at James. “You are clever, aren’t you?”

James cleared his throat, because if he hadn’t have styled out a cough, right then, you’d have heard him breathing out a groan. It was the tone of your voice more than anything for him. Not quite patronising, but smooth and doting enough that it weakened him enough to knock the breath out of him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, looking over at you. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“It’s not like you to be so modest.” you teased, coming up onto your knees again as you spoke so that you could reach the fireplace, blowing gently into the flames to stoke them. You abandoned your magic and picked up a log, considering you were already there, setting it on the fire and watching it set alight as you continued. “Normally, you’re the first to tell everyone how fantastic you are. But I’m not lying when I say, you’re clever, James. You’re one of the smartest boys I know, anyway.”

James watched you, fascinated by how much the fire captivated your attention. He loved that you loved it, and he loved watching the flames reflected against your eyes as you smiled down into the fire.

What he loved most of all, however, was the way you praised him so effortlessly, whilst you were doing something else, and still making him so painfully hard that the blush in his cheeks had drained because the blood was needed elsewhere.

“Yeah.” was all James could manage, looking away, and he was just thankful it didn’t come out as a whine.

You sat back down, stretching your legs out this time, leaning your back against the coffee table so that you were facing James. You tilted your head as you watched him. “Let’s finish this Charms work. Since you’re doing so well it won’t take long.”

James' eyes were stuck on your legs for a moment before he tore his gaze away, trying to think about anything other than how you looked in the light of the fire; gazing over at him so innocently; telling him how well he was doing.

It wasn’t working.

“I don’t think I can…” James huffed, voice cracking as he said it.

“Oh dear.” you remarked. “Why not? You were doing so well!”

The thing about being a witch who had prophetic dreams was that when you knew your visions were about to come true, you sensed an inexplicable, hazy feeling that was similar to how you were feeling when you first saw an event in your sleep.

“Oh dear.” you repeated, softer this time. “James..”

“It’s nothing-” he groaned, running a hand over his face, the blush returning to his cheeks because you had cottoned on to what he was feeling.

What James hadn’t expected to come out of the situation was the smile that spread across your face. It was soft, and genuine, but there was a hint of something slightly more intense.

“Darling, you should have said.” you mused as you put your hands on the floor in front of you, either side of James’ hips, to steady yourself so that you could lean forward. Your faces were inches away from each other, and you looked down at James, who was slouching underneath you, head resting back against the sofa, lips slightly parted as he gazed up at you.

James felt his last shred of resolve snap like a twig. He breathed out a quiet little whine, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“I need-”

“I know.” you cooed, now letting the patronising tone back into your voice, still smiling pitifully down at James as you leaned down to kiss him.

James felt your lips touch his, and all rational thought left his head. He reached up to wrap an arm around your neck, pulling you closer to him until you lost your balance, falling into his lap.

You reached out to take James’ hands in your face, rolling your hips down against his in an attempt to create some friction.

James let out a quiet moan, his hands grabbing at your hips as he held you down against him. He pulled back from your lips and buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

"Please," he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into of your hips to pull you as close to him as physically possible. "I need you."

You nodded feverishly, then tilted your head to one side, leaning backwards in James’ arms as you felt his breath against your skin.

“I know,” you huffed. “It’s okay.”

You pulled your top off over your head and threw it away, then you slid your cold hands under James’ white shirt, which was oversized enough on him to come straight off over his head.

“Ah-!” he gasped at the feeling of your cold hands on his bare skin, eyes widening.

“I’m sorry, darling.” you hummed, pushing James’ shirt up over his head. “That’s it, there we go.” you said as you threw it away. “Well done.”

James shivered as he looked up at you, his lips parted slightly as he watched you. He was already breathing heavy and the combination of your touch with the sound of your praises was driving him up the wall.

You let James lay you out on the floor, relaxing your back against the rug after expecting the cold floor. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as James lifted your hips up with one hand and slid your pyjamas off with the other.

As soon as you were laid out on the rug, James was on you, his hands roaming over your body as he trailed kisses down your neck and chest.

"Need you, please,” he begged, his voice coming out sharp and whiny.

You nodded permissively, eyes trained on James’ hands as they unbuttoned his trousers. If the world was ending in that moment, you wouldn’t have dared to look away.

James kicked his trousers off hastily, not wanting to waste any more time. He positioned himself above you, holding himself up with one hand as he looked down at you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your eyes widened and you dropped your head back onto the floor as you felt James push slowly, carefully into you. You gritted your teeth, hand coming up to your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Oh, fuck-!” James whined, eyes squeezing shut as he leaned down to kiss your shoulder again, almost collapsing against you at the feeling.

“Fuck.” you echoed, feeling as if you relaxed any more you’d melt into the floor. “Fuck, that’s it.”

“Please,” James repeated, his hands gripping your waist tightly. “Please-” he was beginning to babble, unable to find the words he needed.

You knew what he wanted.

“I know, I know.” you breathed. “Feels so good, darling, feels amazing.”

James nodded in response, unable to form any words other than your name. He rolled his hips against yours, the feeling of being inside you making him lightheaded.

"Fuck,” you said again, lacing your fingers through James’ hair and tugging it gently. “You’re so pretty, so pretty, it feels so good.”

He was lost entirely to the sensation of you, his body responding to every touch, every move you made. James couldn't think straight; the only thing his mind was able to focus on was the way you felt around him, and the way your voice would break when he hit the right spot.

You reached up to kiss James deeply, then you used your legs to wrap around his back and pull him against you so you could roll over, straddling him.

“Fuck-!” James' eyes widened in surprise as you rolled him over, straddling him with effortless ease. He looked up at you, his gaze filled with lust and admiration. That made him whine softly underneath you, his head dropping back against the floor as you rocked your hips against his. He reached up to run his hands over your thighs, his touch filled with need.

You rested one hand on James’ stomach, steadying your balance as you rolled yourself against him, and then other came up to your own chest, kneading one of your tits, eyes shut.

“James, it feels so good, darling- doing so well.” you praised, desperation now seeping into your own voice.

James' breath caught in his throat as he watched you touch yourself. His eyes fixed on your hand as you palmed your chest, completely entranced by the way you moved against him.

You noticed, dragging your other hand down James’ stomach gently, and then up to your own body, pressing down where you needed it the most.

“Oh, fuck,” James whispered as he watched you, biting down on his bottom lip. “Please, I need- I’m-”

“It’s okay,” you reassured, taking James’s face in your hands, leaning forward to kiss him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

James let out a soft moan, his body shaking as your words and touch sent shivers down his spine. He was so close, so desperately close to the edge, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He reached up to cup your face in his hands, his eyes drifting shut as he tried to hold himself back.

"Please, I can’t-" he whimpered, his voice cracking slightly. "I’m gonna-"

You felt yourself growing closer and closer to the same edge, and you nodded, your hand flying back to touch yourself against, only bringing yourself closer to snapping.

“Yes- fuck!, That’s it! James, don’t stop, darling, it feels so good, soso good, fuck!”

James felt like he was on fire when he lifted you off of him and came up your stomach, physically twitching as his hips stuttered forward. That made you shiver, and you came seconds later, leaning back on your left arm as your right was still slipping across your skin.

James folded his arms over his eyes, covering them as his chest heaved up and down, taking deep breaths. He whined a few more times as he continued to twitch, but after that he just laid there, completely spent.

You got your breath back sooner than that, reaching for your wand. “Novum textus.” you breathed, pulling a tissue from the end of your wand and using that to clean yourself up, still sat on top of James.

“I don’t think I can move.” he complained, dropping his head back onto the floor.

You smiled- a warm, soft smile. “Well, I’d be more than happy for you to stay down there.”

James couldn't help but smile back at you. He knew he should get up, but he was still feeling too boneless to move just yet.

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

You had both gotten into an argument—something that started small but blew up into something massive. Things were said, jabs were thrown, and feelings were hurt, and before he even knew it, you had stormed out of the common room, the portrait slamming shut in the wake of your anger.

Even though the argument was a result of mutual misunderstanding, James knew deep down that he had to apologize, and no doubt you felt the same way. But this was not the kind of argument that you both usually resolved easily, given the fact that you have both hurt each other with words that were hurled like daggers.

But despite the truth that the problem was way harder to confront than your previous ones— James was still determined to seek you out, an apology already swimming in his mind.

He craned his neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of you or even just your hair. His elbows brushed against the throngs of students littering the corridors of Hogwarts, not even caring if he pushed too harshly. You seemed to have vanished, and James almost felt his hands itching for the Marauder's Map in his trouser pocket to look for you, though the thought of further upsetting you by invading your privacy stopped him whenever his fingers brushed against the dry parchment.

His footsteps faltered as the afternoon sun stung his eyes— the cacophony of students rushing in the hallways fading as he walked through the cobblestone path that led towards one of the fountains in the courtyard. He didn’t even realize that he had reached the place, too deep in the memory of your flight earlier.

He was about to turn back around, but the unmistakable sound of your frustrated grunt reached his ears, accompanied by the noise of grass being pulled, no doubt taking the brunt of your frustration. The sound came from behind a large oak tree, the trunk completely covering your seated frame. He stopped in his tracks— the thought that you might not even want to see him echoing in his mind.

But he wanted to see you— no scratch that, he’s dying to see you!

James shook his head, and slowly, he crept up behind you, a stupid, ridiculous idea popping into his head. Godric, if you ever found out what he was about to do, you’d probably curse him into damnation or maybe have a good laugh.

Without any second thoughts, he transformed into his Animagus form, his large hooves moving quickly to where you were.

The sudden intrusion startled you, the grip of your hands on the poor grass softened as you stared at the majestic creature in front of you, your mouth hanging open in awe.

“Oh, hi,” you greeted as you let go of the now wilted grass.

The enormous animal in front of you looked as if it was straight out of the fantasy book you had borrowed from Lily— its antlers pointing proudly in the air. You supposed this wasn’t uncommon in the wizarding world, considering that this place is filled with magic.

You straightened up in your seat, James’ eyes following your move.

You tentatively stretched your hand as if you wanted to touch him. James, seeing the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, immediately nudged his snout against your palm, his heart melting at the warmth of your touch. “I didn’t know deer frequented the grounds.” You murmured to yourself.

You began scratching his ears, the action completely drawing him close to you. He buried himself deeper into your touch, his head heavily resting on your lap while the rest of his large body lay on the ground. He was careful enough to avoid poking you with his antlers.

“You’re beautiful. What’s your name?” you asked, to which he responded by nudging your stomach with his nose, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Merlin, you’re clingy, aren’t you?” you smiled as you continued caressing James's Animagus form— the animal's brown deep eyes had your mind wandering to your boyfriend.

“You almost remind me of James,” you sighed softly, the once wide smile on your face replaced by a solemn look. “Your antlers even remind me of his nickname; Prongs,”

“Speaking of James, he’d probably be thrilled to see you. Merlin knows that boy is quite fond of your kind,” you said with a smile, your eyes gazing into the distance. “Such a shame he was acting like a complete prat.”

James let out a grunt, pulling your gaze towards him. You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you continued to stare at him. “What?”

“It’s true! He was acting like a prat.” James let out another sound, this time it sounded more like a whine. “But even though he was acting like a dick earlier, he’s still my James,” you continued, your tone soft and adoring.

“Still my prat—”

You were about to continue when a familiar voice broke the calm atmosphere, calling your name—not far from where you were sitting under the tree. James let out a groan at the loss of your touch, his nose nuzzling deeply into your lap.

“Marlene was wondering where you’ve been,” it was Sirius—and if James was in his human form right now, he was certain he’d be burning red. He went still, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, pun intended. He could hear the sound of his best friend’s footsteps approaching, the dry leaves crunching beneath his shoes.

“What the hell!?” Sirius guffawed as he reached you, the sound of his voice coming out amused.

“What?” you asked innocently as you continued stroking the top of James's head.

“Is that Pr—I mean a stag?” Sirius asked, his face grimacing as his nickname almost slipped out of his mouth.

“I guess. He’s quite big, isn’t he?” you replied, your smile evident in your voice.

Sirius only nodded at you, his cheeks turning red as he tried to contain his laughter.

Merlin, James could already hear Sirius’ voice in his head as he imagined the way he would share this story with their other friends. He’d never live this down.

“Anyway, I have to go. Girls’ duties. Take care of him, will you?” you said as you stood, leaving James to lay his head on the grass.

He watched as you walked away, his heart feeling heavier than before. But before you could take another step, you suddenly halted, his heart leaping up in his chest as you turned around to face Sirius—who, by the way, was still trying to stifle his laughter.

“By the way, have you seen James?” you asked, your lower lip held hostage by your teeth. His heart swelled as his name passed your lips—the sound so soft and light.

“Oh, Prongs? He’s probably sulking right now,” Sirius answered, effortlessly masking his lie with an innocent look on his face. James could feel Sirius’ scrutinizing gaze as the words left his mouth, a small, unnoticeable glint in his eyes.

You nodded at Sirius. “If you see him, will you please tell him to meet me in the common room at seven?”

“Will do, darling,” Sirius gave you a salute as you turned your back on them and headed towards the entrance, your figure slowly disappearing in the distance.

James felt a twig land on his forehead, the impact enough to make him wince. He turned his head towards Sirius with the deadliest glare he could muster in his Animagus form, to which Sirius only laughed. James had almost forgotten that Sirius was with him and that he was still in his Animagus form, too absorbed in the haze that your presence had left.

“Merlin, aren’t you pathetic, Prongs?” the raven-haired boy said as he poked James with a twig on his behind, forcing him to transform back into his human form with a grunt.

“Leave me alone, Pads,” he grumbled, his ears turning hot.

From what he has observed for days now, you were working at this old bookshop that was run by a family friend. You were some sort of assistant, arranging the books being delivered every other week and looking after the store throughout the day, acting as the cashier and all. You always wore different light colored blouses during your shift, tucked in faded jeans and matched with beige sandals, as if it was some sort of prescribed uniform that you had to wear during working hours.

Sirius could remember how the world felt like it stopped spinning when he first caught a glimpse of you again, finally finding you after weeks of trying to locate where you might have fled to. Despite how your face has matured over time and your aura has grown to be more sophisticated, he still saw the girl he fell in love with at Hogwarts, and it caused his heart to ache a thousand times more.

Nonetheless, he supposed that this new life was better for you.

You were no longer at risk to be hurt or in danger now that you were here. He could see that you were contented, that you were healed in some way after everything that you experienced—but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him wished that you at least stayed in contact with someone from the Order, knowing that it would assure Sirius that you were being looked after and wasn’t completely on your own.

Slowly following you to the bakery you often visited to grab something to eat, Sirius stopped across the street and sat there on the pavement, gazing at you from the window.

To passersby, he appeared like an intimidating large black dog waiting for his owner to come get him again. It was due to his eye-catching guise that there were people who looked at him anxiously as they walked along his path, or those who purposely avoided marching too close in fear of being mauled or chased after.

He paid them no attention whatsoever. All that mattered to him was you—and how when you turned to your left, gaze flickering outside the bakery and coincidentally landing on Sirius, he saw the instant flash of recognition that spread on your features, causing his furry black ears to shoot straight up.

****

You almost dropped the paper bag being handed to you by the cashier at the sight of the black dog on the other side of the street.

It can’t be… you told yourself, swallowing hard as the dog began to stand up from its sitting position and turn away, now walking towards the bushes where you could easily lose sight of it.

You might have been living peacefully at this Muggle town you’ve grown accustomed with over the years, have done a great job in mingling with Muggles and pretending to be one of them, but it has been two weeks since a copy of the Daily Prophet arrived at your doorstep that told you of Sirius’ escape from Azkaban, and it has easily brought you back to the world that you wished you could easily forget.

Hence, every part of you was screaming that it was him.

That the black dog you just made eye contact with was Sirius Black.

No matter how many years it has been, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of something familiar—something long forgotten that it overwhelmed you for a quick second before you found yourself running out of the bakery, sprinting to where the black dog had gone. 

You ran as fast as you could, heart pounding inside your chest, chasing after him even though you have completely lost track of where he decided to go.

You ran around the area until your knees gave out, until you had yourself convinced that maybe you were only seeing things and it wasn’t a black dog that you saw earlier.

You stopped running at an alleyway, now covered in sweat as you tried regulating your breathing from the marathon you just did. Your chest made it seem like it was close to giving out, and your eyes were stinging from either the cold or the realization of how much you needed to see Sirius.

As you turned your heel around, about to walk back to your apartment and gather your thoughts there, a shadowed figure was standing before you a few steps away, his hair long and matted, his clothes tattered and large.

You stopped breathing.

“Sirius?” you whispered, taking a purposeful step forward.

He didn’t move. He remained frozen in place as you approached him, reaching to where he was and courageously placing your palms against his cheeks, a gesture meant to check if he was really here like your eyes were showing you.

Sirius closed his eyes, inhaling sharply at the contact, and without words spoken, you pulled him close, hauling his head down to lay on your shoulder and embracing him tightly as you let out a surprised gasp at what was happening at this moment.

When you fled from your old life, you swore you never wanted to go back. You were convinced that it was no use staying when everybody was against you—when Sirius, the man you loved and the man you were supposed to marry, was convicted for a crime you knew he could never do.

Regardless of how much you pleaded to everyone to believe in you, they never did. In their eyes, Sirius Black was a treacherous friend to James Potter, that he was the reason why James and Lily were killed that night and poor little Harry had to grow up without his parents. Even Remus, his best friend, had his doubts about Sirius’ loyalty that it caused a temporary wound to yours and his friendship.

Regardless of everything though, regardless of how much you stayed away from your old life and tried moving on, you never stopped thinking about Sirius. You were always haunted by his fate, by what happened to your friends, and by what could have happened if only all you had been wiser with your decision in switching Peter as the new Secret Keeper last minute.

“You’re here.” You pulled back, staring at Sirius who was still speechless, your eyes flickering to every part of his face as if you were memorizing his features. “You’re really here. How did you find me?”

A ghost of a smile appeared in his mouth. “I have my ways.”

“Of course, you do.” You breathed out, disbelief still lacing your tone. “But you—it isn’t safe. You’re supposed to be hiding. The Dementors—”

“I know,” he said, wincing a bit at the reminder of those awful creatures. “It’s unsafe for me to be here, but I had to. I just had to see how you were. I’ll leave as soon as—”

“No.” You shook your head, your palms falling from his face so that you could hold onto his arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re coming with me.”

“____, let’s not—”

“I wasn’t asking for permission, Sirius.” You told him sharply. “Come on.”

He was about to protest, to reiterate that it wasn’t safe of him to be here nor was it safe for you to be seen in contact with him, but before he could let a word out, you were already tugging him with you hurriedly to where your apartment was, aiming to go there quicker to avoid detection.

****

You were like in some sort of frantic trance, he could see that.

As soon the both of you arrived inside your apartment, you were locking the door manually and then grabbing your wand that was hidden in some sort of cabinet, soon muttering a bunch of incantations at every corner of your place in what Sirius assumed was your way of ensuring that he wouldn’t get discovered here.

You have always been a smart witch, way too smart for everyone when the both of you were still studying at Hogwarts. Even though he was considered intelligent himself, you were on another level. It reached to the point that professors allowed you to visit the restricted section of the library, keen in helping you foster your potential by giving you access to advanced magical studies—the same advanced magical studies that he assumed were where you learned the spells you were chanting right now.

When you were done, you walked towards him again, only to abruptly pause.

You gazed at him, this expression on your face making it obvious that you weren’t used to seeing him so near and within reach. Sirius reckoned that he looked horrible, with dark circles under his eyes and a thin, gaunt face that was vastly different from the appearance he had when you first fell in love with him. The realization made him a bit self-conscious, like he didn’t deserve to be here nor should have shown himself to you in such a state.

But the second you started striding to him once more, this soft smile on your face as you reached for his hands, it made him remember how he managed to survive being in Azkaban all these years. It was the confidence that even if everybody easily turned their backs on him—he still had you.

“Do you want to take a bath first? Get settled in?” you asked.

He was silent at first, and then he spoke. “You’re handling this way easier than I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you angry at me?” he replied to your question with another query himself. 

You raised an eyebrow. “For coming here?”

“For everything.” His tongue felt like sandpaper. “For being the reckless git I have always been. For getting myself locked up. For leaving you. For letting James and Lily—”

You cut him off before he could finish speaking, squeezing his arms. “Love, that wasn’t your fault.”

“But it is. I was a coward. I shouldn’t have insisted on making Peter the Secret Keeper. I should have taken the responsibility myself, regardless of whether those bloody Death Eaters hunted me down and tortured me.”

Aside from Dumbledore himself, you were only the other person that was told that Peter would be the Secret Keeper instead of Sirius. It was Sirius who told you so, not being able to keep such important information from the person he trusted the most. And so when the Potters’ location was discovered, you believed Sirius’ suspicion of Peter being the one to blame.

However, Sirius decided to go alone when he went to confront Peter about it, thus being caught up with their friend’s uncharacteristically clever plan of framing him for not only James and Lily’s death, but his murder and the murder of several Muggles as well.

“It’s not your fault,” you repeated firmly. “We had no way of foreseeing the future.”

“He’s alive, you know,” he muttered. “Peter. He’s alive.”

At that, you leaned back a bit, surprised by the declaration. Although you didn’t believe that Sirius could kill him, you didn’t believe that Peter was still alive either.

“I saw him. On the Daily Prophet. He’s the rat perched on Weasley’s shoulder,” he said. “There’s no mistaking it. I could recognize his Animagus form anywhere.”

You pressed your lips together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m completely positive. It’s why—” he sighed, exhaling through his nose— “it’s why I escaped, ____. I have to avenge James and Lily. I have to talk to Dumbledore. There’s a lot of unfinished business I have to attend to now that the Dark Lord is rising again.”

“Unfinished business?”

“Yes, and Harry, I have to talk to him, make him understand and—”

“And what about me?”

It caught him off guard. “What?”

“Me, Sirius,” you retracted your hands, taking a step back and looking at him with absolute hurt, “what about me? Did you just plan on escaping, hurting everyone, getting your good old revenge without regard to what’s going to happen to us now that we can finally be together?”

He opened his mouth. “Don’t… don’t put it that way.”

“Then how should I put it? I mean, if I hadn’t seen you earlier, you probably wouldn’t have talked to me. You wouldn’t have shown yourself.”

“I didn’t want you to get involved,” he reasoned, attempting to regain the proximity you two had before you moved away. “I’ve been watching you for days. Weeks. And I know better than to ruin the peace you have now.”

“Peace? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed. “Do you really think what I have now is peace? Before you escaped, the knowledge of you being Azkaban with those Dementors—knowing that I couldn’t do anything, knowing that I couldn’t talk to you and make sure that you were fine—” Your voice broke and your eyes began to well up rapidly. “I hadn’t slept properly since then, Sirius. Do you know why I still get newspapers from the Daily Prophet? It’s because if for some reason they found you lifeless in your prison cell—perhaps I’d finally gain the courage to stop pretending that I still want to live without you by my side.”

The implication of your words struck him. He didn’t think that his absence impacted you in that sense, that while the thought of you comforted him in the decade he has spent locked away from society, you felt the opposite, instead tormented by his case and the weight of his absence.

Without hesitating, he engulfed you in a hug, strong arms wounding itself tightly around your waist. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. He has never been good at words, anyway. “Darling, you’re the most important person to me.”

You cried on his shoulder, returning his embrace. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I just thought…” He closed his eyes in regret for ever thinking in this manner. “I just thought you’d be better without me. That you would have wanted it. You just… you looked okay. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re a twat, Sirius.”

Despite the insult, he found himself chuckling at the reminiscent feeling of being scolded by you, his hold becoming more unyielding. “I am. Perhaps even the bloody worst one out there.”

“You are. I’m glad you know.”

“I know, love.”

“And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you muttered, a bit muffled. “I’d take you back. Every single time. So, please, always come back to me.”

He drew his head back, about to assure you about never wanting to leave you again, when he noticed your necklace and its pendant that twinkled slightly due to the light hitting it in the perfect spot.

The more he stared, the more he realized that it wasn’t an ordinary pendant or charm. It was a ring.

Your engagement ring. The exact ring he gave to you on his knees when he proposed.

Sirius never cried. He wasn’t that type of man who channeled emotions that proper way. He often resorted into inappropriate laughter or anger—but this moment right here, at the sight of your engagement ring dangling against your collarbone, the very object that he never imagined you would still have in your possession after everything that had commenced—it made his hands tremble, his throat to suddenly burn, his breath to hitch, and before he could control his composure, the dam cracked. 

“Sirius?” You exclaimed, worried.

“You still have it.” He declared in between sobs, delicately adjusting your clothes so he could see the ring better on your neck. “The ring. The engagement ring.”

You glanced down, as if forgetting you had it, and smiled slightly in understanding. “Why wouldn’t I? You told me it cost a fortune.” You teased him.

“____,” he said your name again, groaning and pressing his forehead on yours, tears still streaming down his cheeks that you were wiping away with the pads of your thumbs, “tell me anything you need. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything you want.”

He kissed you passionately and you didn’t think twice about kissing him back.

“I only need you, love,” you murmured. “Just you. Just us. That’s all I need.”

He nodded vigorously. “You have me. You always did, and you always will.” He couldn’t stop kissing you, couldn’t stop doing the one thing he felt like could make you grasp how important you were to him. “Once I fix everything, I’ll give you a good life. I won’t let anything get in between us ever again.”

Even if you wanted to reply, you couldn’t, for Sirius never strayed his mouth away from yours, as if he was afraid that the loss of touch would separate the both of you once more.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

Barty looked up from where he had been fiddling with a baby toy to smile sardonically at him. “I have no idea what you might be referring to, Potter.”

That earned him an exhausted scoff which only served to cause his grin to grow.

“First of all, you and bug have been married for three years, I think you’re safe to call me James.” He hissed. “Secondly, this is probably your fault; she never had a problem calling me by my name before.”

“If it was, as you say, all my fault, wouldn’t she be calling you Potter then?”

“Well that would be better than Jewel, no?”

“Uncle doesn’t like Jewel?” Gemma pouted, causing Barty to feel simultaneously victorious in his attempts to cause James grief and also devastated that his daughter was feeling any amount of distress.

“Way to go, Potter; look what you’ve done now.” He hissed.

“Wha- no! No, Gem, I love Jewel, I just don’t know who that is!”

“What the hell is going on in here?” You asked, stepping through the door to find James on the floor with your daughter near tears and Barty sneering at him from the couch.

“Your child is broken.” James let out breathlessly, turning towards you with a helpless look on his face as he held Gemma aloft in front of you.

Your eyes raised on your forehead quite comically at that. “I…beg your pardon?”

”I don’t know what Junior has done, but he’s broken your daughter. She doesn’t remember my name!”

Your bemused gaze lowered to your daughter, still hanging in the air.

“Gemma?”

”Hi, mummy!” She cheered, causing your lips to curve in the corners.

“Hi baby; what have you been calling Uncle Jamie?”

”Jew-wel!”

“Barty…” You chided, causing James to bark a triumphant “HA!” as he pointed at Barty accusingly. “How long were you going to let my brother spiral?”

”Just long enough.” Barty offered with a flippant shrug of his shoulders.

“Gemma,” you moved to explain, giving your brother an exasperated and apologetic look, “asked her daddy the other day why he happens to call me ‘treasure’.”

“Daddy? What’s a treasure?”

“A very special, shining, precious thing that is very important to someone.” Barty explained easily. “Why do you ask, baby?”

“Is mummy a treasure?”

Barty’s smile was simply blinding. “She is, baby; she’s daddy’s treasure. And you’re my little Gem.”

“Special names!”

“That’s right, those are some of our special names, just like mummy calls me Bee sometimes.”

“Does everyone get special names?” She asked with a little tilt to her head.

“Well, they can; but it’s usually saved for your very favourite people. Who’s one of your favourite people?”

Gemma hardly thought before she blurted “Uncle Jamie!”

Barty fought against an absolutely visceral eye roll as he tried to smile at his daughter. “Yeah? Maybe you can think of a special name for him, then.”

James looked to be just as close to tears as Gemma previously had.

“Gemma!” He cooed wetly. “Is Jewel my special name!?”

Gemma’s bemused face fell before she beamed at her uncle; liberated by the feeling of finally being understood. “Special name! Mummy is treasure, Gemma is Gem, and Uncle Jew-wel!”

”Oh my goodness.” James shrilled before he was plastering kiss after kiss to his nieces cheeks, eliciting squeal after squeal from the little girl.

You made your way over to Barty and carded your fingers through his hair before gripping the short strands at the back of his head, forcing him to look up where you stood over him.

”You’re a menace, Barty Crouch Junior.” You chided, earning you a flirty smirk from your husband.

”I’m your menace, my treasure.” He purred in response.

You hummed in acknowledgement but didn’t grace him with a response as you pressed your lips to his.

”I’m going to go bring the food to the kitchen,” you started, giving him a pointed look as you backed away, “do try to behave yourself while I’m gone.”

Not a problem, Barty thought; he was but a simple man.

He loved his wife, he loved his daughter, he loved mischief, he hated loathed despised tolerated managed his brother-in-law, and he loved causing said brother-in-law a healthy amount of grief.

But he also loved how much his daughter loved, and could he really blame her for finding her favourite person in a Potter?

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, walking out right in front of me?” he asks, heart beating a mile a minute. 

“I’m sorry.” You’re surprisingly calm for someone who’s just faced death. Your voice is like the wind whistling through trees. Sirius finds himself leaning forward to hear it. “Was I in your way?” 

He laughs, appalled. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d say so, seeing as I was going up to a green light and suddenly you were in the middle of the street.” 

“But…” You glance down at his bike. “...couldn’t you have gone around?” 

Sirius might laugh again, if you didn’t sound so genuinely curious. As it is, he’s shocked into silence. A single, disbelieving breath puffs into the space between you. 

You take a few steps toward him. Your features come more into focus, pretty and innocently perplexed. Your brows bend with concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

Sirius finds himself nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Though I wouldn’t have been, if I hadn’t seen you in time. Neither would you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say again. You seem to mean it. 

Sirius leans his elbows on his handlebars, bike still rumbling beneath him. He finds, oddly, that the anger at your transgression has left him. The light is red now, but you hold his gaze, still standing in the middle of the crosswalk. You seem unsure of what to do next. Sirius has the inexplicable sense that you won’t leave until you feel things have been righted. 

He asks, “Why are you wandering about at this hour, anyway?” 

It’s not his business and he knows it, but this doesn’t seem to occur to you. 

“I was looking for the moon,” you say. 

Sirius blinks. “The moon.” He was expecting you to be out for milk or biscuits, not the moon. 

You nod. 

“Why?” 

“I can’t see it from my apartment,” you say, as though that explains it. 

“But why do you need to see it?” 

Your brow furrows like Sirius has said an odd thing. “I want to,” you reply simply. 

Sirius sucks his teeth, considering you. “I got a glimpse of it earlier,” he says, pointing East with his chin. “Over there. It wasn’t very impressive, I have to tell you. Only a sliver.” 

At his description, your face lights up. “Really?” you ask, as animated as you’ve been this whole while. “How thin? Was it bright?” 

Clearly, Sirius isn’t going to dissuade you. 

“I can try and help you find it, if you want.” He says it without any plan to, like the words are simply pulled from him. “My bike’s a bit faster than going on foot.” 

You smile. It’s sweeter and more brilliant than the moon could ever hope for. “Really?” 

“Sure.” 

You look eager, but hesitate. “Are you going to abduct me as revenge for crossing the street in front of you?” 

Sirius laughs, but sobers when he realizes you’re not joking. 

“I did think about it,” he says, “but I’ve decided not to, no.” 

“All right, then.” You step up to his bike, sliding one leg easily over the seat in back of Sirius. You take hold of him without him telling you, and through the material of his shirt your hands feel cool against his abdomen. 

When the light turns green again, Sirius sets off at a crawl. You press closer, winding your arms tighter around his waist. He’s going slow enough that the breeze barely catches in his hair. He turns to speak to you. 

“I have to ask,” he says, “do you really believe I won’t kidnap you just because I said I wouldn’t?” 

Your lips come so close to his ear Sirius has to fight a shiver when you speak. “I don’t think you’re a liar.” 

“So you don’t think I’d lie, but you did think I might kidnap you?” 

“You don’t seem like a liar; you do seem like someone who enjoys revenge.” 

Bundled up against the sharp autumn chill, you tugged your scarf higher over your nose, the wool muffling your breath as you glanced both ways down the street. The pavement glistened faintly from an earlier rain, and leaves skittered across the ground, carried by a gentle breeze. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the solitude of the evening and the faint scent of damp earth and fading smoke in the air.

The city felt quieter tonight, slower. A rare calm that let you notice the little things: the way your boots tapped against the pavement, the golden glow of light spilling from a pub window, the soft rustle of branches as the breeze carried more leaves to the ground. You couldn’t help but savor the peacefulness, the way the streets felt like they belonged only to you.

Turning onto a quieter side street, you pulled your coat tighter around you and let out a content sigh. The distant hum of a car engine and the occasional clink of bottles from an alley gave the city its usual heartbeat, steady and familiar. But as you passed under a flickering streetlight, the warmth in your chest faltered.

A flicker of something- movement- caught the corner of your eye. You stopped for a moment, glancing behind you. The street was empty, save for the faint shimmer of rain on the asphalt. You let out a quiet laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you started walking again. "You're imagining things," you muttered, the words misting into the cold air.

But as you rounded another corner, the feeling crept back. A weight you couldn’t explain settled between your shoulder blades, pressing until you glanced back again. This time, the street didn’t feel so empty.

A figure stood at the edge of the light, a shadow against the dim glow of a streetlamp. Hood pulled low, shoulders hunched. You couldn’t see his face, but the sight was enough to quicken your pulse.

You turned back quickly, trying to shake off the growing unease. It’s nothing. Just someone walking home, like you. Still, your steps grew faster, the sound of your boots sharper now as they echoed down the street.

The figure’s pace quickened too.

Your heart thundered in your chest, your breath puffing in the cold as you resisted the urge to turn around again. Don’t look back. Just keep walking. But the sound of his footsteps- deliberate, steady, too close- sent panic thrumming through you.

You turned sharply onto another street, one that was darker and quieter, hoping to lose him in the maze of side roads. But the sound of his steps followed, unyielding.

The knot in your stomach tightened as you risked a glance over your shoulder. The figure was closer now, his face still obscured, his movements calm and measured, as though he knew there was no need to rush.

You kept promising yourself it was all in your head. Every rationalization you’d ever heard about nights like this ran through your mind. He’s just trying to get home. You’re overthinking it. You’re being dramatic. The words looped, each one louder than the growing knot of fear in your chest.

In some lapse of judgment- or sheer stubbornness- you forced yourself to slow down, determined to prove your paranoia wrong. Your footsteps softened, your breath puffing out in measured exhales. See? Nothing’s wrong.

But the figure didn’t slow. His pace stayed steady, deliberate, and for a heartbeat, your stomach clenched.

Then, he walked right past you.

Your breath left you in a rush, relief crashing through you as you watched him slip into an alley just a few yards ahead, his dark silhouette disappearing into the shadows.

You’re so bloody dramatic, You scolded yourself, shaking your head as you tried to laugh off the tension still clinging to your spine.

Your legs felt heavy as you started walking again, still shaking off the tension that clung to you like the autumn chill. The sound of your boots echoed faintly against the damp pavement, the streetlights casting long shadows that seemed to stretch further with each step.

You’re fine. You’re fine. The mantra pulsed in your head, soothing your nerves just enough to keep moving forward.

But as you passed the mouth of the alley, a sharp sound- the scrape of a boot against concrete- made your heart stutter.

Before you could fully process it, the figure stepped out of the alley, sharp and purposeful. He moved with a predator’s focus, his hood still pulled low, but his intent painfully clear as he strode toward you.

Your body froze, fear locking every muscle in place as your breath hitched painfully in your throat. Your mind screamed at you to move, to run, to do anything- but before you could even find your voice-

A deep, guttural snarl tore through the night behind you, vibrating through the air like a clap of thunder.

You stumbled backward, your knees nearly buckling as something massive pressed between them with startling force. Looking down, your breath caught again.

A black dog- no, something far larger than any dog you’d ever seen- stood between your legs, its massive head low and its body tense, muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Its glowing eyes locked on the man in front of you, and its lips curled back in a snarl, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. The beast exuded menace, an attack dog waiting for the signal to strike.

You didn’t dare move. The sheer size of it, the raw power in its stance, and the intensity of its focus made you feel as though the tiniest twitch would snap the tension in the air.

The black dog let out another terrifying snarl, its teeth snapping together with a ferocity that echoed in the quiet street. The man in front of you stumbled back a step, his hands flying up defensively as if the gesture could ward off the beast.

The force of the dog's lunge had nearly sent you sprawling, but you instinctively clung to its thick black collar, fingers curling around the studded leather as if it were a lifeline. Its massive frame remained steady beneath you, grounding you in a moment that felt anything but stable.

“Easy, easy,” You whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to calm your racing heart. It was ridiculous, you realized, trying to reason with a creature that clearly wasn’t just an ordinary dog.

The dog didn’t flinch at your voice, its glowing eyes locked on the man with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, the man began to retreat, his movements jerky and hesitant as he kept his gaze darting between you and the snarling beast.

“I- I wasn’t doing anything!” He stammered, his voice shaking as he took another step back.

The dog lunged again, snapping its jaws just short of the man’s retreating figure. The motion was controlled, calculated- a warning that left no room for doubt about what would happen if he didn’t leave.

The man’s nerve broke. With a muttered curse, he turned and bolted down the street, his footsteps echoing in the stillness until they faded completely.

The dog didn’t move for a long moment, its body still taut, ears pinned back as it watched the man disappear into the night. Only when it was satisfied he wasn’t returning did it finally relax, its snarling lips settling back over sharp teeth.

The air around you hung heavy with tension, your trembling fingers still clinging to the black dog’s studded collar. Its massive form didn’t waver, muscles coiled tight as its glowing eyes remained fixed on the direction the man had fled. You could feel the sheer power radiating off of it, its focus terrifying, its snarling lips now pressed firmly together.

Just as you began to catch your breath, a calm voice- low, steady, unfamiliar- broke through the night.

“Padfoot, heel.”

Your head snapped toward the sound, and from the shadows stepped a tall man, his figure shrouded in the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. He moved with quiet confidence, his amber eyes soft yet sharp as they flicked from the dog to you. His presence was both reassuring and unnerving, as though he had always been there, watching from the edges.

The dog didn’t immediately obey, its ears twitching at the command but its gaze still locked down the street. A moment of silence stretched between the man, the beast, and you.

Then, another voice rang out, softer, almost playful. “You did good, mate. It’s okay now- she’s safe.”

The second figure emerged from the opposite side of the street, his dark hair catching the faint light that his glasses reflected- as he strolled closer with a casual ease. His hazel eyes glinted with sympathy, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached.

“Padfoot,” The second man coaxed, his tone softer now, almost affectionate. “Come on, you’ve scared him off. Time to let the lady breathe, yeah?”

The black dog- Padfoot?- finally relaxed, its tension melting away as it let out a low huff, almost as if in reluctant agreement. With one last glance down the empty street, it turned toward you, pressing its massive head against your thigh in an almost protective gesture.

The motion nearly knocked you off balance again, but you steadied yourself, your fingers still curled around the thick collar. You glanced between the two men, your mind racing to make sense of what was happening.

“What- what is this? Who are you?” You asked, your voice unsteady but edging toward firm. Still trying to calm down from the earlier events.

The first man, the one with warm amber eyes, stepped closer, his gaze flickering briefly to the dog before settling on you. “We’re just here to make sure you got home safely,” He said gently, his tone soothing.

“This… thing?” You asked, nodding toward the dog, though you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of its collar.

“Not a thing,” The second man interjected, his grin widening as he crouched next to the dog, running a hand through its fur. “This is Padfoot. And he did bloody brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

As if understanding the compliment, the dog let out a soft woof, its tail giving a single thump against the pavement.

The man looked up at you, his hazel eyes twinkling. “And I’m James, by the way. This,” He gestured to the amber-eyed man, “is Remus. We didn't mean to scare you, but thought a bit too quickly.”

The boys seemed to sense your lingering unease, their expressions softening as they exchanged a glance. Remus stepped forward slightly, his calm demeanor grounding the strange tension still hanging in the air.

“We’ll let you head home now,” he said gently, his voice low and soothing. “But if it makes you feel safer, Padfoot can walk with you. He’ll stay by your side until you’re safely inside.”

You glanced down at the massive black dog, still pressed protectively against your leg. His glowing eyes had softened, but the quiet strength in his stance told you he wasn’t going anywhere until you were safe. “He’ll… come back to you?” you asked hesitantly, your voice quiet.

James stepped closer, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “Always,” he said. “Just tell him to go, and he’ll know where to find us. He’s got a knack for it.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to dismiss their offer and the lingering unease that crept up your spine. The thought of walking home alone again made your stomach twist, and the steady presence of the dog at your side was a strange but undeniable comfort.

Remus’s amber eyes met yours, steady and kind. “You’re safe with him,” he murmured. “Padfoot won’t let anything happen to you.”

The dog huffed softly, as if to emphasize the point, and you felt a small, tentative smile tug at your lips despite the lingering fear. Slowly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll take him. Just… until I’m home.”

James’s grin widened, a glint of relief in his hazel eyes. “Smart choice,” he said lightly, his tone warm but not overbearing.

Remus nodded, taking a step back toward the shadows. “Just keep him close. And when you’re inside, tell him to go. He’ll find us.”

Your gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment before you glanced down at the dog again. “Padfoot,” you murmured softly, testing the name. His ears perked up at the sound, his massive body shifting slightly closer to you as if ready to move.

James gave a small wave as he began to follow Remus into the shadows. “Take care, love. You’re in good hands- well, paws.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening slightly as you turned to continue your walk. The dog- Padfoot- stayed close to your side, his presence a silent but steady comfort. Each step felt lighter, the earlier fear ebbing away with every reassuring glance at the hulking figure beside you.

“Sirius, quit squirming,” you huffed, lifting your book to glare down at him.

“Can't get comfy,” he mumbled, lifting the hem of your shirt to bury his nose into your skin, the tip of it like an ice cube.

“Sirius! Merlin, you're a handful,” you rolled your eyes and looked towards Remus for assistance. He was stretched on the other end of the bed, watching the two of you over his own book. Sirius’ feet were in his lap, tucked between his thighs for warmth.

Remus tsked under his breath, pinching Sirius’ calf and earning an annoyed grunt. “Leave her alone, Pads. She has an exam tomorrow.”

“But I love heeeerrrr,” Sirius whined, clutching you tighter. “Smells s’good,” he hummed.

Remus shook his head, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, dove. I tried.”

Sirius had been a needy, pouting wretch all day. You woke up with his morning wood digging into your stomach, his hips twitching in his sleep as soft, mumbled moans dripped like honey from his lips. Any other morning, you would have taken full advantage of your drowsy, wanton boyfriend, but when you checked Rem’s watch on the side table, you realized the three of you were about to late to Charms…again.

And later in class, Sirius seemed incapable of focusing, every spare scrap of attention he had devoted to you or Remus, or both of you. Studying your hands as you wrote, groping beneath your robes to squeeze your flesh, nuzzling into your necks, whining pitifully in your ears. He even pulled you into his lap during Potions, his boner pressed against your uncovered heat for a dizzying, thrilling moment, before Slughorn kicked him out for being a nuisance.

At dinner, Sirius was practically eating out of your hands, desperate for even a little contact, an ounce of physical touch. By then, you and Remus had put together what was ailing your poor boy and started to play along, keying him up even further only to deny him the smallest satisfaction.

You fed Sirius grapes, bits of bread and cheese, but wouldn't let his lips touch your fingers. Remus rested a hand on Sirius’ lower thigh, tracing the bones of his knee through the hole in his jeans, but didn't dare twitch a finger higher, no matter how much Sirius whined and squirmed. You'd even given Remus a full kiss when you'd returned to the common room, tugging at his lower lip with your teeth the way you knew Sirius liked, but only gave Sirius a chaste peck, leaving him dumbstruck at the bottom of the stairs.

If you didn't relieve him soon, you feared he might combust.

You glanced up at Remus again, and he caught your eye. “Ready?” You mouthed, and Remus nodded with a sly smirk.

With deft fingers, Remus started massaging Sirius' feet and calves, increasing the pressure until Sirius was moaning against your skin, going languid in your lap with a pleased hum.

“That feel good, baby?” You cooed, running your fingers through Sirius hair. “Rem is so good with his hands, isn't he?”

Sirius nodded, his hips twitching into the mattress as Remus worked higher, pushing his thumbs up the back of Sirius' thighs in a straight line

“So tense, pet,” Remus hummed.

“Because you cunts have been torturing me all day,” he huffed, but it was toothless, softened by the breathless edge of his voice.

“Torturing you? I would never do such a thing,” you pouted, feigning indignation.

Sirius nipped at your hip before laving his tongue over the sting. “I know you felt me this morning,” he chastised, pulling down the waistband of your skirt to kiss along your hips.

“Yeah, I felt we were all going to get detention for being late to Charms,” you said, trying to ignore the blooming heat between your legs from his touch.

“Would've been worth it,” he grumbled.

“You’re right, maybe you wouldn't have been such a needy brat all day.” Remus tickled the bottom of Sirius foot and he yelped, flipping over onto his back to try and bat Remus away, but you held down his shoulders, keeping his upper body in your lap.

“You can't let him get away with—oh fuck,” Sirius' complaint was interrupted by Remus gliding his fingers between Sirius’ thighs, caressing over the thick ridge in his pajamas bottoms.

“You want me to stop him?” You asked, batting your lashes, and Sirius shook his head side to side vigorously, his hair falling across his face.

“Don't you dare stop,” he whined, canting his hips into Remus' palm.

“Poor thing,” Remus cooed, trailing his finger through the puddle of precum bleeding through the fabric of Sirius' pants. “Been suffering all day at the hands of our beautiful girl.”

You scoffed, unable to stop the grin rising on your lips. “Me? You were the one that wore that slutty little sweater vest.”

“It was temperate today! You were the one that conveniently forgot underwear this morning,” Remus shot back, winking at you.

“You what?” Sirius squawked, jolting upright to glare at you. “And you didn't tell me?!”

You shrugged, toying with the hem of your skirt. “Didn't think it was relevant.”

Sirius gaped at you and Remus snickered. “That is the meanest thing you've ever said to me,” Sirius said, clutching his heart. “Like you don't even know me.”

Remus shifted to lay between Sirius' legs, licking a stripe up his cock over his pants, distracting him from his tirade. Sirius collapsed back onto the bed with a moan, and you slipped off the edge of it before he trapped you beneath him again.

“Oh, we know you well enough, Pads,” Remus chuckled, mouthing at the head of his cock. “Don't we, dove?”

You nodded, stroking Sirius’ hair out of his face while Remus toyed with him. His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks flushed, fisting the quilt beneath him.

“Rem, don't tease me,” he whined, the muscles along his abdomen tight with the strain of keeping still.

“But you like it,” Remus said matter-of-factly. “That's why you kept up with whiny puppy-dog thing instead of just asking.”

Sirius huffed, looking at you for help, his green eyes pleading.

“We love you, Sirius,” you said, bending down to kiss his forehead. “And if you need something, just ask, yeah?”

“We're here to make you happy,” Remus added, dragging down his waistband of Sirius' pants to kiss along his hip bones.

“Just need you two,” Sirius panted, reaching for you while Remus licked up the smear of precum along his pelvis. “Please, baby.”

You unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the floor, showing Sirius the drooling, sticky mess between your legs that his desperation inspired, and he groaned, his pupils dilating instantly.

Remus chuckled. “Look how hard that made him, darling. Making a mess of himself,” he teased, though his eyes were locked between your legs too while his tongue traced over the root of Sirius. Another flush of arousal made you pussy throb, and Sirius practically whimpered.

“If you don't bring that sweet pussy over here now,” Sirius warned, grabbing you by the hip to tug you closer.

As soon as you kneeled back onto the bed, he yanked you over his face, throwing one leg on either side of his head so you were facing Remus, who had paused his own work to watch you through heavy lashes.

Sirius immediately laved his tongue through your soaked slit, a deep rumble of satisfaction reverberating from his chest when you cried out, bucking against his tongue.

“This what you wanted, pet?” Remus said, spitting on Sirius' cock and stroking it with his fist. “To be smothered by us?”

You felt Sirius nod, his tongue fucking into your sloppy channel with ruthless, hungry precision, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open. Syrupy thick pleasure pulsed through you, making your toes curl and your head fall back while he drank from you, fiendish as a vampire.

“Take your blouse off, pretty girl. Let me see you,” Remus instructed, using his thumb to massage under the head of Sirius' cock, making him whine and twitch beneath you.

You obliged, fingers clumsy as your arousal deepened. You tossed your blouse off the bed, followed quickly by your bra, and Sirius’ hands immediately shot up to grope and paw at your chest.

Delicious, spiralling heat surged through you when he tweaked your nipples, his tongue moving to circle your clit, his nose pressed against your entrance. Sirius was a master with his mouth, and his eagerness only made him more merciless in the hunt for your release.

You leaned forward, resting on your forearms on either side of Sirius' hips, and licked a stripe up his cock, tasting the heady combination of Sirius and Remus' drool.

Sirius cried out, his hips bucking up at the unexpected contact, and you giggled, repeating the motion.

“I c-can't take both of you—” his protest fractured when Remus licked along his base, your mouth suckling the head, and his cock gave a hard lurch as more blood rushed south. “Fucking saints, so good.” He dove back into your pussy, sucking your clit between his teeth and lashing it with his tongue, payback for your dirty tricks.

You cried out, spine arching as he devoured you and you felt your peak start to build, a steady stacking of pleasure that grew more precarious, more overwhelming, by the second.

“You're perfect,” Remus hummed in appreciation, lifting from Sirius’ cock to give you a messy kiss, his tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, making you loose your breath.

After a few moments, and a whine in protest from Sirius, Remus broke the kiss and turned his attention back to your needy boyfriend, finally taking all of him into his mouth with a smooth, practiced swallow.

“Merlin, Moony, fuck,” Sirius grunted. “So tight.”

You combed your fingers through Remus' hair as he sucked Sirius, earning a sweet hum from your sandy haired love.

“You're perfect too, Remy,” you cooed, trying to distract yourself from your mounting orgasm. “My beautiful boy.” You kissed along his jaw, feeling the tension and tremble as he worked Sirius deeper into his throat. You saw his hips twitch, his hands fisting the sheets. “Finish him off and then you can fuck me just how you like. How's that sound?” You purred in his ear and he groaned, creating a domino effect of moans as the vibrations worked through each of you.

You felt two fingers prod at your entrance and you keened, feeling Sirius sink to the knuckle and scissor your open with his long fingers.

“Shit, Siri,” you whined, rocking back into his hand while his tongue lashed your swelling bud.

“Want you to come all over my face, darling. Taste so good, need—fuck—need it so bad,” he mumbled against your sex, lapping at the creamy mess his fingers coaxed from you.

You rested your head on Sirius’ hip, watching Remus gag on his length through a rosy haze, the combined stimulus making your mind you fuzzy, your heart pound. It was too much, an onslaught of erotic sensation, and your body was pulling apart at the seams, nerves fracturing under the strain—

You came with a scream, trying to muffle the sound into Sirius’ skin as you shattered, a gush of moisture surging from you at the intensity. You were rendered matterless, a floating speck of dust, drifting on the current of the stars.

Sirius grunted beneath you, his muscles tensing in a wave, and he bucked hard into Remus' throat, the root of his cock pulsing as he came a heartbeat after you.

Remus took it all in stride, milking Sirius with his mouth while petting your hair as you came down, tethering you both to the earth.

When you were finished, you slumped sideways onto the bed, panting and slightly shaky from the intensity of it all. Sirius rested his cheek on your thigh, breathing labored and eyes closed, his face shining with your slick.

Remus pulled off of him with a pop. “Worth the wait, Pads?” Remus asked, kissing along Sirius’ thighs.

Sirius shook his head. “We could have done that at least three times since this morning, but noooo—”

You swatted his stomach and he chuckled, nipping at the tender skin of your inner thigh. You glanced up at Remus, who was watching the two of you with so much affection it made your heart twist.

“Come here, baby,” you murmured, and Remus leaned over, capturing your lips in an airy, open-mouthed kiss that stoked the dwindling fire in your belly. You could taste Sirius on his tongue and it made your head swim, your thighs clench.

“Think our girl is ready for more, Moony,” Sirius said, untangling himself from the two of you and stepping off the bed to retrieve something.

“Is she?” Remus asked, flipping himself around and bundling you into his arms, raining kisses over your face, neck, chest and making you giggle. “What say you, my love?”

“Please, Rem?” You whined, grabbing at his cock nestled between your bodies, already rock solid and hot to the touch.

“Oh, suddenly she's polite,” Sirius scoffed, swatting your ass as he climbed back into bed.

Remus chuckled, kissing you one more time before passing you into Sirius’ arms. You snuggled into Sirius’ chest, kissing along his tattoos, loving your two boyfriends so much you could hardly breathe around the fullness in your chest.

“Hi, dolly,” Sirius hummed, drawing you up by the chin for featherlight kiss. “Ready to get fucked out of you mind?”

At the same moment, Remus lifted your hips until you rested on your knees. Face down on Sirius chest, ass up. Sirius adjusted his legs so your feet were pinned beneath them, and Remus grabbed your wrists to fasten them with Sirius’ tie behind your back, seamless in the only the way the two of them could be. Like they shared the same, filthy mind.

It made your cunt clench around nothing, your knees weak beneath you, desire pumping thick and sludgy through your blood.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, squirming in their hold until you felt the head of Remus' cock tap against your still-sensitive clit.

“Shh, there's our sweet girl. Rem’s gonna get his now, okay? Can you do that for him? Take it like a good little slut?” Sirius asked, petting your hair and smoothing a hand over one of your trembling legs.

You nodded, burrowing into Sirius' neck to ground you. “I'll be good,” you answered, and both boys cooed in approval.

Remus brushed his lips along your spine, still teasing your clit with his cock. “You always are, precious,” he murmured, straightening. “Just try not to wake the entire castle.”

In one, brutal thrust, Remus slammed into you, his hips slapping against your ass with a definitive smack. You cried out, the sound barely muffled by Sirius’ skin, as pleasure streaked beneath your skin, frying the last functioning neurons in your brain. The maelstrom of feeling only increased as he fucked into you, ruthless and rutting.

“Fuck, Moony. Look at our girl, takin’ it so well. Aren't you, darling?” Sirius caressed your cheek, dropping a kiss into your hair.

“Yes—mmph—fuck, so big,” you mewled, fingers tensing around the tie securing your wrists, your whole body desperate to move and release some of the compounding energy that was drowning you alive.

“So fucking tight, Pads. Squeezin’ the hell out of me,” Remus grunted, his grip almost painfully tight on your hips. But you barely registered it, completely awash in the seizing, spiraling ecstasy taking over your body, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come around our boy? Let him stuff that greedy little pussy full?” Sirius reached beneath you, his middle finger finding your clit like it was magnetized to it. “Absolutely dripping wet for us. Fuck me,” he praised, removing his hand to steal a taste before returning to massage quick, tight circles around the puffy bud.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted, fucking back into Remus as you chased your high, feeling him hit every angle, every inch of your stretched out cunt.

“Go on, dove. Come for us,” Remus gruffed, reaching forward to fist your hair and pull your head up, your cries of ecstasy ripping through the air.

Sirius grinned, kissing the tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “So fucking beautiful,” he said, his free hand wrapping around your throat. “Let go, love.”

And you did, your orgasm slamming into you like a branch of the Whomping Willow, knocking your soul out of your body and into the stars. You were nothing, everything, a mindless tangle of flesh and blood and feeling, the only tether you had was your boys hands on your body, Remus’ cock swelling and the scalding heat as he painted your insides.

You collapsed onto Sirius, breathless, boneless, so sensitive that even the brush of his hair was agony, the thump of his heart like a roaring train.

“Sh, sh, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You did so well, all done now, dolly. You were such a good girl for us,” Sirius shushed, his voice growing clearer as the fog lifted. You were crying, trembling in his arms as the pleasure worked itself out of your system. “She's alright, Rem,” you heard him say, and that was enough to bring you fully back to the present.

You turned to look at Remus, who was watching you with a worried crinkle in his brow, slumped against the pillows at the other end of the bed, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his scarred chest.

You wiggled out of Sirius' hold and threw yourself onto Remus, kissing him with a much strength as you could muster until you felt him smile.

“Didn't mean to be so rough with you,” he murmured, skimming your jaw with his thumb. “M’sorry.”

You shook your head, silencing him with another kiss. “I love you. That was amazing. You're amazing. If I wasn't 90% gelatin I'd tell you to do it again “

The boys chuckled, Sirius climbing up to lay beside you both. You settled into your usual sandwich, Remus wrapped around your back while you nuzzled into Sirius' front, his arms draped over the both of you, and your legs all tangled together.

“I need to shower,” you grumbled, feeling Remus' release trickle onto your thigh.

“No, you need a cuddle,” Sirius retorted, already sounding half asleep.

“I could get us into the Prefect bathroom,” Remus suggested, and Sirius snapped awake.

“Why didn't you say that sooner!” He cried, shoving you both towards the edge of the bed. “Let's go, you lazy asses!”

You and Remus groaned, but let Sirius drag you up and wrap you into your robes.

Looks like you'd be sleeping in tomorrow, too.

“Yellow certainly least,” James teases. He steps into your field of vision wearing his concert outfit. Jeans and a tight t-shirt just short enough to tease a sliver of abdomen. Of all the fans who will get to see him looking so handsome tonight, you’re glad you’re one of them. 

“Anyway,” he says, grinning, “we have a very important question for you both. No pressure.” 

“Well, some pressure,” Sirius says. 

You look at your sound tech friend. Like most crew, she’s largely unaffected by the rockstars currently sharing in casual repartee in front of her. Her eyes don’t appear to dip to James’ stomach or trace the myriad of tattoos you know are showing through Sirius’ sheer top. If anything, she looks only faintly amused by the way the band’s lead singer is mushing tiny, soft kisses into the skin by your ear. Your cheeks warm. 

“What’s the question?” you ask, dreading the reply. 

Sirius turns you in his arms, taking you by the shoulders and levelling you with a very serious look. “What is the hottest instrument for someone to play?” 

Your sound tech friend barks a laugh. “Bass,” she says. “No question.” 

James’ eyebrows fly up, his expression one of utter disbelief, but Sirius only says swiftly, “Wrong. You know what it is, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

Your shoulders gravitate upwards at the moniker. “You can’t ask me to pick between you.” 

“Don’t think of it as picking between us,” he says. “Just, which is the hottest? Objectively.” 

“I can’t be objective,” you plead. 

“Does anyone know what time it is? I can’t seem to find a clock in this whole place.” You turn your head as Remus emerges from their dressing room, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Oh.” He blinks when he sees you, waving to dispel the smog. “Sorry, dovey. Where’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been here,” you say, voice softening. Sirius makes a quiet sound and hugs you again. 

“You’re cute,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. Your face flames. 

“It’s quarter ‘til,” the sound tech offers helpfully. 

Remus turns to her with a smile he’ll never understand the power of. “Thank you.” 

“We’re conducting a poll on which instrument is the hottest,” James informs him. He jerks his thumb toward the sound tech. “She says bass.” 

Remus’ grin turns smug. “Quite right. What’s your pick, dove?” 

You’re mute and melting, hot enough by now that you wish you could evaporate into steam and float away through the vents. 

“She won’t say,” Sirius sighs dramatically, breath warm against your cheek. 

“Oh.” Remus seems to wisen to your plight. “It’s not really playing fair, is it? She can hardly be objective.” 

“Right,” you agree quickly. 

“But angel,” says James, bewildered, “guitar is classic.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” Sirius argues. “For anyone to say anything other than the front man! We’re chosen for our hotness!” 

“Well, that’s not strictly true, is it?” 

“Yeah?” Sirius has that shit-eating grin, like he’s winding James up in anticipation of hauling him into a broom closet. You’re only glad it’s not directed at you. “You got something to say, Potter?”

“Sorry,” Remus apologizes to your sound tech friend on their behalf, touching a hand to Sirius’ back to guide you both towards the dressing room. James follows. 

“You’re good,” she laughs. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” 

“You too,” you say, cringing at the unintentional softness of your own voice. 

“Who was that?” Sirius asks as James closes the door to their dressing room behind you. “Have you made a new friend?” 

You groan, flopping down onto the posh-looking, uncomfortable couch and covering your face with your hands. “I was trying to.” 

“It looked like it was going well,” James says. “Maybe you can hang out with her again while we’re onstage.” 

“I can’t now,” you mumble between your palms. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” says Remus, as he sits beside your head and begins smoothing your baby hairs with his fingers, “we’ve embarrassed her.” You let your hands slip down enough to see him, and he smiles at you. “I don’t think she’ll hold it against you, dovey. She seemed nice.” 

“You would think so.” Sirius plucks the cigarette from between Remus’ fingers, taking a drag before it can burn out. “She picked your instrument.” 

Remus shrugs, smug again. “That helps.” 

Sirius squints at him spitefully. He sits next to your knees where they’re flung over the arm of the couch. “Don’t let us spoil your new friend for you,” he says, sincerely. “She loves you already, I can tell. You’re perfect.” 

“You’re biased,” you counter, face heating again. 

Sirius grins like he can tell and reaches down to tug you upwards. He grasps you with a roughness for which he has no follow through, kissing you sweetly with his fingers bunched in your jacket.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

“Okay everybody!” Slughorn calls out as he enters the potions room. “If everyone could find a workbench, we shall begin.” Professor Slughorn is quick to inquire about the potion that he’s holding, waving it around for everyone to see. “Who can tell me what this is?” You ponder it for a second, looking to your right at James, who is studying the pink liquid closely. Across the table, Remus lazily raises an arm and Slughorn nods for him to talk. 

“It’s amortentia, sir. It’s highly dangerous cause’ of its-” 

“It’s a love potion!” James butts in, his lips tugging into a crooked smile. A couple of the girls in the class giggle at this and you side-eye him, rolling your eyes playfully. Slughorn nods thoughtfully, and addresses the class of seventh years again.

“Can someone explain the characteristics of amortentia?” 

As a Slytherin girl answers the question, you lean over to James. 

“How did you know that, Jamesie?” You murmur, peering up at him. The smile on his face quickly falters and a red hue starts to brighten his ears. He mumbles something incoherently. “What?” you ask. He opens and then closes his mouth again. You don’t let up, looking at him expectantly.

“It, ah, it’s nothing.” He brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I spose’ I read about it in a book or somethin’.” Pursing your lips, you stare him down until he gets jittery and looks the opposite way. Before you can press anymore, Slughorn starts talking again.

“Yes, a glistening shimmer and spiralling steam - both very distinctive features. Now, if you look under the desk, you will find small vials of amortentia. Do not steal them, do not spill them and definitely do not drink them. Have a sniff and see what you find.” 

The room erupts into chatter as Slughorn turns and begins digging around in his bag. Across the bench, Sirius has already acquired the small vial and looks about ready to down it. Him and Remus are talking as a grin creeps onto his face but Remus clocks the look and boinks him over the head.

“Mate, if you drink that you’re gonna become obsessively in love. I wouldn’t.” Sirius raises a brow and inspects the potion in his hands. 

“Obsessively in love? What, like - I'm gonna be more in love with someone I already love?”  James starts chuckling next to you and you watch as Remus facepalms. Before the scarred boy can speak, Sirius starts again. “I mean, I wouldn't mind being more in love with my mon petit chou.” He winks across at you and you shake your head, amused. Remus snatches the vial from him, sighing half-heartedly as he does. 

“If anything, you’ll become in love with Slughorn, since he probably made this!” The raven haired boy looks horrified for a second as James laughs harder next to you. Befuddled, Sirius shakes his head and gives the amortentia a scathing look. You can’t help but let out a laugh as well. Remus tries to seem annoyed but the smile on his face betrays his true feelings. 

When James has calmed down and Sirius has stopped giving the amortentia disgusted looks, Remus turns to you. 

“You wanna try it first, love?” He smiles warmly, holding out the small glass containing the potion. You hum, taking it from him and popping the lid. You take a second to just look at the contents of the potion and are startled to find all three boys staring at you as you look back up. You smile awkwardly, bringing the amortentia up to your nose. The smell doesn’t hit you right away and you need to take a second whiff to really discern what it is you're smelling. The scents are all mingled and it takes you a second to figure out which is which. “So,” Remus prompts. “Whaddya’ smell?” You close your eyes for a second, just letting the scents wash over you. You open them again, making eye contact with James.

“Smells like fresh grass, actually. Like the quidditch pitch.” The spectacled boy’s eyes seem to light up a bit at the implication. It’s true - the smell of freshly trimmed grass stands out and you can’t help but be reminded of all the quidditch matches you’d been to over the years. It’s a fitting scent, considering that your Jamesie is captain of the quidditch team.  The other aroma is sort of woodsy and has you looking at Sirius. It’s almost identical to being snuggled up in his arms, face buried in his leather jacket. “Also kinda smells like leather.” Sirius tilts his head, and a wolfish grin seems to appear on his face. When you turn to look at Remus, a devious thought enters your mind. The third scent is clearly chocolate, the sweetness making your tummy rumble. However, rather than voice this, you pretend to think, scrunching up your nose. Your eyes meet Remus’ hopeful brown ones and you pretend to gag.

“Ugh! There’s the smell of wet dog as well!” 

Remus’ smile seems to drop and he finds himself lost for words. Feigning ignorance, you’re quick to ask what the smells actually mean.  Before any of the boys answer, Slughorn speaks up from where he is walking behind you.

“Well, dear! You are meant to smell the person you love, of course.” 

“Oh,” you mutter. “But I don’t love anyone that smells like a wet dog…” your eye twitches but you try to keep your composure. The crack in your facade doesn’t go unnoticed as the brunette opposite you narrows his eyes at you. 

Slughorn hums, patting you on the back. “Well, you may not have met them yet, that’s all.” You nod your head enthusiastically and thank him as he wanders off to another table, beginning to chat with another group. When your gaze returns to Remus, you see he’s still staring at you. Your lip trembles as you try to hold in a laugh. 

“Do you really smell wet dog?” he asks, looking a little grumpy. You can’t help it anymore and start giggling at the moody look on his face. Quickly, you round the table and wrap your arms around him. He automatically hugs you back, grumbling against the top of your head. You pull back, a laugh still lingering on your lips.

“Of course I don’t, Rem.” You tip-toe to whisper in his ear, “I actually smelt chocolate.” You peck the tip of his ear and rock back onto your feet. He’s unimpressed but you can see the glint in his eyes that says he doesn’t really mind. 

You untangle from him completely and push the vial towards him. “Your turn!” He grabs the amortentia from  your hand before pulling you closer to peck your lips. A warm heat rushes to your cheeks and before you can react, he is bringing the potion up to smell. He seems contemplative for a second before peering down at you.

“Apricots.” He murmurs, beginning to smile. 

“Apricots?” James says.

“Apricots?!” You mirror.

Sirius peeks over Remus’ shoulder. “What's wrong with apricots?” He muses. 

You stutter, flailing your arms.

“She hates apricots!” James declares.

“I do, I hate apricots!” you agree. 

Glaring up at Remus, you point an accusatory finger at him. Seeing the look on your face, Sirius looks questioningly at James, who just shrugs in return. 

“Remus John Lupin, which human being are you in love with who loves apricots? Because it sure as hell ain’t me!” Sirius' mouth forms an o, and he promptly pulls you away from Remus. He wraps his arms around you in the guise of a hug (because you’re pretty sure he thinks you’re gonna jump the werewolf in front of you). And maybe he’s right. You struggle for a second but his arms stay secure around your middle.

“Now dear,” he tries to soothe. “Are you sure you haven’t used some apricot-smelling shampoo recently?” Behind your back, he beckons for James to say something. You shake your head no, fully aware that your watermelon-raspberry shampoo had not changed.  James panics and blurts the first thing he can think of.

“You drank apricot juice this mornin’, remember?” 

“James.” You growl at him. He recoils (despite the fact that there’s a table between the two of you) and squeaks out a ‘yes.’ 

“I do not like…” you pause, taking a deep breath. “Apricots. And I know that I did not drink apricot juice this morning. Now that I think about it, you weren’t even at breakfast this morning because you had practice!” 

James had just been busted. Sirius groaned from behind you and sent a glare at the curly haired boy who held up his hands in surrender. 

While all this happened, Remus watched on - laughing to himself internally. Had he really smelt apricots? No. But you didn’t need to know that - not yet at least. This was the least you deserved after inadvertently saying he smelt like wet-dog. 

Your fiery gaze connected with his again and he almost felt bad. Almost. 

“What about grass, Remmy? Can you smell grass and leather?” He took another exaggerated whiff and smiled brightly at you.

“Yup.”

The skin between your eyes crinkled and a dark shadow cast over your face. 

“Now tell me.” You began. “Are you lying to me right now?” 

Remus looked confused. “About the grass and leather? Ah, no?”

“No!” you burst. “About the apricots!”

Remus finally decided to show some mercy and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Maybe I didn’t smell apricots.” 

Your cheeks expanded like a puffer-fish and your steely look did not go unnoticed as you wrangled your way out of Sirius’ arms. You leapt at the little liar, trying to tackle him to the floor. It caught him off guard but he righted himself quickly, clasping you around the back of the head and situating you against his chest. You whacked him, once, twice and then went dead weight, groaning. Remus easily supported you, laughing quietly to himself.

“Why’d you lie to me, Remmy?” You spoke, voice smothered against his robes.

“Huh? You lied to me first by saying I smelt like a wet dog.”

“I wasn’t lying about that, though.”

“You- wait, what?”

You cackled demonically and pushed away from Remus, packing up your things as Slughorn dismissed the class. Remus tried to make a grab for you but you evaded him, running out the door. Over your shoulder, you called out to the boys.

The crowd's roar was almost deafening as James Potter, with a shit-eating grin and all, lifted his fist in the air, displaying the golden snitch he had just caught. The quidditch seeker circled the pitch on his broom, as proud as ever as he savoured every second of the never-ending cheering.

“Potter!” screamed someone from his left. Before he had time to brace for impact, multiple of his fellow Gryffindor quidditch players had tackled him midair. It was a miracle they all managed to stay on the broom. “We won! We won!”

The infamous game against Slytherin had been won; they hadn’t even won the Quidditch Cup yet. However, Gryffindor had been on a losing streak against Slytherin over the last three years, so the excitement from the Gryffindor team was much deserved.

Your throat burned from the effort of screaming so loud. You couldn’t be more proud of James and Sirius as they continued to celebrate in the air. You were squished thoroughly amongst the crowd, being pulled from one jumping hug to another. 

“Come one, let’s go down there!” Remus had to yell so that you could even hear him. Thankfully, he was taller than most, and you were able to spot him amongst your group of friends. “Grab my hand.” You did, holding on for dear life as he eased the two of you through the crowd until you were in the stairwell. It seemed everyone else had a similar idea as masses of people followed after the two of you to storm the pitch and celebrate with the team.

It took some time to find him, but soon, you’re in James' warm, crushing hug, screaming your congratulations into his ear. You’re breathless by the time you can repeat the sentiment with Sirius, whose hair was becoming loose from the low bun he’d pulled it into.

James is then collectively lifted into the air by his fellow quidditch team. It was the most fun you’d had in months as the celebrations continued as the party converged in the  Gryffindor common room for the after-party. It was so loud and obnoxious that you were surprised that Professor McGonagall hadn’t shut it down, but from the whispers amongst the party-goes, she was partying just as hard in Hogsmeade.

The night soon came upon you as the music and joy had everyone in great spirits. As the clock struck midnight, you stumbled upon James, red and gold lions pained on his face and eyes drooping with exhaustion. In his current position, you would have felt the same level of comfort as he was sitting sideways on Remus’ lap in an armchair by the fire as his boyfriend whispered into his ear.

“Did someone party too hard?” you ask quietly, trying not to disturb James, but he still looks up at you with a goofy grin.

“Nope”, James responds whilst putting emphasis on the ‘P’. Resting against the arm of the chair, you began to comb your fingers through his untameable hair, finding the strands surprisingly soft as James’ eyes closed in contentment.

Smiling softly at his handsome face, your eyes darted to Remus who was also watching with adoration, his hands running up and down James' legs. “I was just telling Prongs how proud I am of him, " Remus explains, giving you a subtle wink. A hint of rosy blush deepened over James' face as he nuzzled into his boyfriend's neck. You’d noticed James's signs of neediness from the moment he was wrapped in a hug on the pitch.

It wasn’t often that James naturally became submissive, but when he did, your heart melted at how soft he became and how much you wanted to care for him. “I’m proud of you, too. I can’t believe how quickly you won the match for everyone. It was incredible!” You gave your own praise to James while continuing to massage his scalp gently.

“Thank you, " he mumbled, still hiding his face in Remus’ neck.

Leaning down to kiss the back of his head, you moved away, “I’ll leave you two to have some boyfriend time together”. Mostly, you just knew how rewarding it was to be in this headspace and to have Remus doting after you, wanting James to have some one-on-one time. As much as the boys could be dominant in their own ways, Remus was a caretaker and a giver, always craving to be praised and looked after by his submissives while remaining in charge. 

However, a firm hand suddenly held onto your wrist as James partially sat up, “Wait, don’t go. I want you to be here too”. Now that he was properly looking you in the eye, you could see how glassy-eyed he appeared, realising that not only was James relaxed and content but when he was like this, it usually meant he was in some kind of subspace, whether it be in a sexual way or just needing to be touched and cared for.

Crouching down so you were closer to James, your hands rested against his chest, feeling the excitable thumping of his heart. “Yeah, you want me to stay?” James nods tiredly, head relaxing against Remus’ shoulder. “Where exactly do you want me to be?”

Your fingers lowered to skim over his calves, intending to stroke against Remus’ fingers, who clutched yours, squeezing reassuringly. You were submissive down to your very core. However, when James was like this, you needed to appear more confident and dominant just to make sure that he felt like he was being cared for and also to take away the pressure from James to care for you so he could enjoy the experience completely.

James' hand cups your face, pulling you closer until your lips hover over his. “You know where I want you”.

Kissing him slowly, you couldn’t help but moan and lean completely into him, even if the position was awkward with Remus being squished beneath, but he never complained. James’ face tilted, his mouth opening eagerly as your tongue slipped and pressed against his. He tasted sweet and oh-so addictive.

From the deep groans and the way he was clutching onto your face, he was enjoying it just as much as you were. Easing back onto your knees to catch your breath, you continued to push his black floppy hair away from his forehead as he slowly opened his eyes and asked, “Please sit on my face”.

The burst of laughter that escaped you was not meant to be as loud as it was as people around the room looked over curiously. You try to reassure him by covering your mouth as James’ blush deepens.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to be that loud. I don’t think we can do that before all these people.”

Before you can comprehend the sudden movement, James is out of his seat and pulling you toward the dormitory stairs. As you pass another group of friends, you hear Sirius bellow, “Hey, where are you all going? I want to come!”

You couldn’t help but snort at the lingering innuendo, shouting, “Follow us then!” You’d never chased up the stairs so quickly before, feeling breathless by the time you’d made it to the boy's dorm.

James swung the door open and sprinted for the magically sized bed, enthusiastically jumping into the centre. He did not appear as out of breath as you and flashed you another grin. “Come and sit on my face,” he said.

With how keen he seemed, you were already soaked and throbbing with need as you reached beneath your skirt and eased your damp underwear down your legs, kicking them off. “Where are your manners?” You jest whilst beginning to crawl on the bed, half away from where Remus and Sirius had also joined the room. 

“Now, this is my kinda party”, Sirius cheers whilst locking the dorm door and then moving around the bed to join James on his other side. For a second, you admired Sirius, immediately taking control by gripping James's jaw and kissing him deeply.

James emerged from the kiss even more starry-eyed than before, his gaze returning to you. “Sorry. Please come and sit on my face. Smother me, my love.”

Your cheeks warm at the crudeness of his words, but not stopping as you crawl onto the bed. Sirius’s hands are on you in a second, but only to give you some help as you straddle over James’ chest whilst leaning on Sirius so you don’t topple over.

James hands then settle on your thighs underneath your skirt, pulling on them until you’re pussy is well and truly smushed against his mouth. That man, are you out with all the enthusiasm of when he’d first caught the snitch as his face was now completely covered by your body and skirt. 

His tongue licked you from asshole to clit, pushing as deep as he could into your clenching cunt, drinking every last drop of your arousal before sucking on your clit in harsh pulses. Your hips were bucking and grinding on his face to a point you weren’t entirely sure how he was breathing, but not for one second did James move you off. He held you down firmly, moaning and savouring every second.

Sirius mainly had to hold you up as you cried out. Even more so when, over your shoulder, you watched Remus undoing James’ belt, pulling his trousers and boxers down until his cock was exposed. The entire length disappeared down Remus’ throat as he greedily sucked on James.

The response of groans vibrated against your clit, causing your eyes to roll back, chasing that high that was so very close. Sirius captures your screams as you orgasm by kissing you deeply. It was nearly overwhelming the need to please him, the pulsing waves of pleasure and trying not to completely squish James’ head between your thighs.

It takes you a couple of minutes to try and find your bearings whilst sucking in deep breaths of air as Sirius sits back to admire your face. With his help, you’re able to sit back and hover over James’ chest as he continues to be orally pleasured by Remus.

What you weren’t expecting was for James’ grip to tighten around your thighs and for him to pull your hips back to his face. “I wasn’t finished”, he growls desperately whilst trying to lift his head to push his tongue into your cunt.

Glancing tentatively at Sirius for help, you moved back again, pressing a hand against James’ forehead so he was forced to look up at you. “James, baby, I don’t think I can go again so quickly. I’m a little sensitive right now.” It's safe to say James looked a little heartbroken by this. For a moment, you were sure he was potentially too lost in his subspace, but thankfully, Sirius came to your rescue.

“If you want something to lick Prongs, I’ve got just the thing. Come on, Darling, sit back here and watch the fun”. Carefully holding onto Sirius, he helped you to sit back against the headboard, giving you another chaste kiss before unbuckling his belt. 

James was just as eager for Sirius as you watched him kneeling next to the lying man and slowly thrust his cock into his mouth. There was nothing you found more highly erotic than watching your boyfriends kissing and touching one another as your fingers slipped beneath your skirt. 

With each groan and slurp, your fingers circled your clit until you were designing against your own hand.

“Don’t cum”, Remus ordered, and at first, it was instinct to assume he was talking to you, but as you look down at James’ body towards the scarred man, you realise that his green eyes are entirely focused on the man who’s cock was in his mouth.

James tried to cry out but was muffled by Sirius’ member, still bobbing in and out of his mouth. You knew from the way his back was arching and fists clenching that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, and it appears the others noticed this too as Sirius quickly came down James’ through. “That’s it, swallow it all. Good boy. Remember what Moony said, you can’t come yet”.

James swallowed everything Sirius gave him, but with his mouth now empty, he begged and begged to cum. “Please, I- I need to cum, I can’t hold it in”.

Sirius takes a moment to look you over and asks, “What do you think? Should we let him cum for being so good for us?” You were just opening your mouth to agree with Sirius when James suddenly cries out, eyes closing as he cums violently on Remus’ tongue.

The man moaned as much as James had as he, too, swallowed it all, looking pleased with James, not that James could see this as he continued to keep his eyes closed, his face a mixture of pain and pleasure. “I’m- I’m s-sorry, I tried, I re-really tried. I didn’t mean to”, James stuttered, his breathing coming out in quick rushes as he struggled to control himself.

It was clear to everyone else that James had become overwhelmed by it all, and as he was already in the neverending headspace with his submission, just like you would, he began to experience a subdrop. Before you could even reach for James, he was covering his face, trying to push away from both men and turning into the mattress beneath him.

“I’m sorry, I failed, I’m sorry”, he repeated repeatedly as he came close to hyperventilating. Your fingers delved into his thick hair, trying to calm him in any way possible. 

“Baby, it’s okay. Listen to me, James. I don’t want you to talk; just take some deep breaths for us.” Your voice remains calm and reassuring.

James, though, continued to chant and hide himself away. Sirius now moves to kneel next to the bed so his face can be closer to James’. “James, Darling, I need you to listen to me carefull,y and you can’t do that if you’re shouting. That’s it. Take a deep breath for me through your nose and out through your mouth. You aren’t going to be punished, it’s ok that you came. I know today has been a lot for you; we shouldn’t have pushed you”.

It was then that you realised that James was worried that he’d be punished by Sirus or Remus for cumming without permission and why he was now experiencing a subdrop. Your main priority was making sure that James felt loved and safe.

“James, I love you; please turn over so we can look after you properly.” You tried to coax him while continuing to gently run over his head and the top of his back.

“Give him a little space, Love?” Remus’ calming yet authoritative voice asked as he moved up the bed. Sitting back with Sirius against the headboard once more, you watched as Remus, always the one to help the most in these situations, did what he did best, and that was to care.

Cupping the back of Remus, he was able also to wrestle his arm beneath James and lift him up, so he was now resting entirely against Remus’ chest. Rocking the two of them carefully, Remus continued to speak quietly to him. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to punish you tonight. I love you, and I need you to understand that. We just pushed you too fa,r like Sirius says, and we’re sorry for trying to edge you for so long. You’re safe; we love you and are still so proud of you.”

James’ breaths finally evened out to a slow, deep pace as he blinked up at Remus, who carefully removed his glasses so that he could wipe away the tears on James’ face. “How about we strip off, get under the sheets and cuddle for a bit? I know how much she wants to cuddle with you” Remus nods in your direction.

“Please, James, come cuddle with me”. After what feels like a lifetime, you’re rewarded with James's small but tired smile. All four of you begin to remove your clothing with your back resting against the pillows; James half lays his toned chest over your body until his face is innocently pressed against your breasts.

Kissing his temple gently, you ask, “Better?”

“Much better, thank you Love”. You can’t help but sigh at hearing him say those words and appear more like himself. Sirius then coaxes James to drink some water and then yourself, whilst Remus breaks off a couple of cubes of chocolate for each of you.

“I just want to say, " Sirius begins to say, getting comfortable beneath the blankets and reaching for James’ hand. “I’m really proud of you today; you kicked Slytherin's ass, and I don’t think we’re done giving you rewards for that, by the way. Get some sleep, and I want first dibs on kissing that pretty little arse of yours tomorrow, and you can cum as many times as you like”.

Sirius groaned dramatically from his own bed, his leg propped up on a stack of pillows. He had injured it during their last Quidditch practice and was now milking the situation for all it was worth.

“Darling,” Sirius called, drawing out the word as he tilted his head toward you. “I demand attention. Do you know how utterly dull it is, lying here with nothing but Moony’s dull bookishness and Wormtail’s horrible color sense for company?”

“I’m literally right here, Pads,” Remus replied flatly, not looking up from his book.

“And you love me,” Sirius shot back without skipping a beat, grinning lazily.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Peter, who stood in front of the mirror with a tie hanging awkwardly around his neck. “I think the green one is better,” you offered. “It brings out your eyes.”

Peter frowned, his hands fumbling with the knot. “But is green too Slytheriny?”

“Not unless you start hissing and cursing muggleborns,” you replied with a teasing smile. “Just pair it with a gray jumper. Neutralize it.”

Peter nodded, muttering something about giving it a try before swapping it for a blue tie. Meanwhile, Sirius groaned again, this time louder.

“I’m dying, and none of you care,” he complained, flopping back against his pillows like a tragic figure in a poorly acted play.

“You’re not dying,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “You’ve got a bruised leg.”

“Bruised? Bruised?” Sirius gasped as if you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s how they minimize war injuries, you know. Next you’ll say I’m malingering.”

“Which you are," Remus said, still not looking up from his book.

Sirius turned to you, ignoring Remus entirely. “Come on, love. Entertain me. Read me a story or sing me a song or- oh! Recite poetry! You’re good at that.”

“I’m not reciting poetry for you, Sirius.”

“Why not?” Sirius pouted. “You do it for James.”

“That’s because James actually asks nicely,” you quipped, smirking.

At that, Sirius clutched his chest as if you’d stabbed him, his grin betraying his dramatics. “Et tu, Brute? I thought you loved me.”

“Loved, past tense,” you teased. “You’re officially too high maintenance.”

“You wound me,” Sirius said, throwing an arm over his face. “Moony, tell her she’s being cruel.”

“Not getting involved,” Remus said quickly, still reading but now smiling faintly.

Sirius turned his face toward you again, his pout morphing into a cheeky grin. “Fine, if you won’t entertain me, at least come sit over here so I can lean on you while you’re ignoring me.”

You rolled your eyes but stood anyway, walking over to Sirius’s bed. “You’re unbearable.”

“I prefer entertaining,” he replied smugly as you perched beside him, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Remus flipping another page in his book and Peter muttering to himself as he fiddled with another tie. Sirius, still leaning on your shoulder, let out a long, exaggerated sigh, clearly waiting for you to indulge him.

“Alright,” you finally relented. “I’ll read something to you. Happy now?”

Sirius grinned triumphantly. “Ecstatic. Now, find something good. None of that boring rubbish you usually bring in here.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and glanced around the room. “Fine, but I’m not wasting my time reading some textbook or Quidditch manual. Let’s see if James has something decent for once.”

Sirius perked up, watching you make your way over to James’s trunk. “Careful, darling, you’re stepping into dangerous territory. Prongs’s secrets and all that.”

“Oh, he won’t mind,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, if he didn’t want me snooping, he’d have locked it.”

Remus glanced up from his book. “I’m not sure that logic holds up, actually.”

You knelt beside the trunk, lifting the lid to find the usual James Potter mess: a tangled heap of robes, a few textbooks with worn edges, and a Gryffindor scarf stuffed haphazardly into the corner. But what caught your eye was a small, battered box tucked near the bottom, half-hidden beneath a crumpled cloak.

“What’s this?” you murmured, pulling it out and turning it over in your hands.

Sirius’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Oh, now that looks promising. Open it.”

Remus let out a quiet sigh. “I wouldn’t- ”

“Of course you would,” Sirius interrupted. “It’s Prongs. What’s his is practically hers anyway.”

Ignoring their back-and-forth, you pried open the lid. Inside was a disorganized stack of parchment, some neatly folded, others crumpled and torn. Some were even singed at the edges, as if they'd narrowly escaped being thrown into the fire. Every single one had your name scrawled across the top in James’s messy handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What is it?” Peter asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Letters,” you said softly. “They’re… they’re addressed to me.”

Sirius’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Oh, now this is good."

Remus closed his book, his brow furrowed. “Are you really going to read those? They’re personal.”

“They’re addressed to me," you replied, a mixture of curiosity and nerves stirring in your chest.

“You’re doing him a favor,” Sirius said breezily. “If he didn’t want you to read them, he’d have gotten rid of them properly.”

You hesitated for a moment before unfolding the first letter. The parchment was slightly wrinkled, and the ink looked rushed, as though James had written it in a moment of unfiltered emotion.

Dear {Y/N},

You probably think I’m an idiot. Honestly, you wouldn’t be wrong. I’ve tried to write this letter five times already, and I keep throwing them in the fire. But this one… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep it. Maybe one day I’ll find the courage to actually give it to you.

You laughed today. I can’t even remember what I said to make you laugh, but Merlin, it was the best sound I’ve ever heard. I keep playing it over in my head like an idiot, and it’s driving me mad.

I think I love you. No- scratch that. I *know* I love you. But I can’t tell you. What if you don’t feel the same? What if it ruins everything? Maybe it’s better this way. At least I can still be near you, even if it kills me to pretend.

Your voice caught, and you lowered the letter, your hands trembling slightly.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, looking genuinely impressed. “Prongs has it bad.”

Peter nodded mutely, wide-eyed.

“You really shouldn’t be reading those,” Remus muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.

But you couldn’t stop. You reached for another letter, this one more crumpled, as though James had balled it up in frustration before deciding to keep it.

I tried to burn this one too, but I couldn’t. I can’t seem to get rid of the things I write to you, even if they’re pointless. You’ll never read them anyway. But writing them feels like the only way to stop my chest from caving in whenever I see you with someone else. Merlin, I’m pathetic.

I wish I could just tell you. But then what? You’d laugh, or worse, pity me. I couldn’t stand that. So, I’ll keep pretending. Keep being your best friend. Keep loving you quietly.

“Wow,” Peter said softly.

You sat back on your heels, clutching the letters tightly. All this time, James had been carrying these feelings- for you- and he’d never said a word.

“See?” Sirius said, looking smug. “Told you this was worth it.”

Remus shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

You looked up, your heart pounding. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Sirius leaned back against his pillows, crossing his arms behind his head. “Because he’s James bloody Potter. He’d face down a hundred Death Eaters without flinching, but one look at you and he’s a goner.”

The door to the dormitory burst open, and James Potter strolled in, looking thoroughly windswept from Quidditch practice. His broom was slung over his shoulder, and his Gryffindor scarf dangled loosely around his neck.

“Alright, lads, miss me?” he asked cheerfully, dropping his broom beside his bed. He glanced at Peter, who was still fiddling with his tie. “Wormy, mate, what’s that? A tie? You look like you’re about to slither off into the dungeons.”

Peter huffed, pulling at the tie. “It’s green with gray accents. She said it works.”

James’s laugh was loud and carefree, but then his gaze landed on you, sitting on the floor with a stack of letters clutched tightly in your hands. The open box on the floor beside you caught his eye, and his face immediately fell.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

You froze for a moment but quickly regained your composure, hugging the letters closer to your chest.

“Reading,” Sirius said from his bed, his tone positively delighted. “Turns out, Prongs, you’re a regular Shakespeare. Real heartfelt stuff.”

James paled as he took a step toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and embarrassment. “Put those down. Now. They’re mine.”

You stood quickly, holding the letters tight to your chest as if they were a treasure. “No, they’re mine. They’ve got my name on them.”

“{Y/N},” James groaned, his face turning a deep shade of red. He lunged for the letters, but you stepped back just in time.

“I don’t think so,” you said, grinning as you unfolded another letter. You held it up dramatically, clearing your throat. “Let’s see what this one says- ”

“Don’t you dare!” James exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.

“Dear {Y/N},” you read aloud, dodging James as he tried to grab the letters again. “You’re going to kill me one day, and I’ll probably thank you for it. Today, you- ”

James groaned loudly, lunging for you again. “I mean it! Give them back!”

But you were faster, darting around Sirius’s bed and laughing as James scrambled to catch you. “Today, you laughed at my joke in Transfiguration, and I swear I forgot how to breathe- oh, that’s good, James! Real poetic!”

Sirius howled with laughter from his bed, clapping his hands. “Oh, this is gold. Absolute gold.”

Peter, wide-eyed, muttered, “Should we stop them?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, waving a hand. “This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

James was completely flustered now, his hair even messier than usual as he chased you around the room. “You’re impossible!” he said, his voice breathless.

“And you’re in love with me,” you teased, waving the letters in the air. Suddenly you paused, as if reality hit you. Your smile grew tenfold as you looked at the letters then to him with wide eyes. “Merlin, you're in love with me!”

That made him freeze for half a second, giving you just enough time to read aloud again. “You’ll never read this, but Merlin, I can’t stop thinking about you- ”

Before you could finish, James lunged and finally managed to catch you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You squealed in surprise and delight as the two of you toppled backward into the open closet, the letters scattering around you.

James pinned you gently, his face mere inches from yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re an absolute menace,” he said, though his tone was more fond than frustrated.

“And you’re a hopeless romantic,” you shot back, grinning up at him.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his hazel eyes filled with something intense and unspoken. Then, before you could say another word, he kissed you- soft and sweet at first, but quickly turning urgent and consuming.

You forgot about the letters entirely as his hands framed your face, his lips moving against yours like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. Your laughter melted into the kiss, your hands clutching the front of his Quidditch jumper as if to anchor yourself.

From outside the closet, Sirius’s voice rang out. “Bloody hell, Prongs, save some for later!”

James pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his face flushed and his smile wide. “Remind me to hex Sirius later,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“Deal,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Sirius groaned loudly. “Merlin, they’re hopeless. Wormtail, fetch me a bucket; I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh come now, treasure. It’s not their fault, yeah?” He cooed at you patronisingly, brushing a gentle finger over your no doubt scorching cheeks as you continued to refuse eye contact with any of the wizards. “I can hardly fault them for recognising such beauty when it’s standing right in front of them.” 

“Are you teasing us or her?” Regulus bit out, and Barty’s smile was officially beaming.

“Take your pick?”

“You do look lovely tonight, dove.” Remus offered earnestly, wincing at the moniker that seemed to slip out on its own accord; Barty’s shoulders seemed to raise in excitement. “I’m sorry if we’ve made you uncomfortable though, we shouldn’t be staring.”

You stole a glance at Remus then, as if confirming for yourself that he was being sincere before you turned to scowl at Barty as you responded. “S’not you making me uncomfortable.” 

Barty let out an offended scoff and clutched at a set of nonexistent pearls. “What did I do?”

“You’re goading them.” 

“Yeah, you’re goading us.” Regulus parroted rather immaturely. Remus pat his hip chidingly. 

“As I’ve said already, they can hardly be faulted for recognising what a beautiful witch you are.” He argued, smile turning mischievous again before he continued. “And I can hardly be faulted for showing you off.”

“Oh for Salazar’s sake.” Regulus hissed, finally moving to step in front of Remus. “Care to have this dance, Y/N? Get away from your lunatic boyfriend?” 

Your smile seemed to be both relieved and shy as you accepted his outstretched hand. 

“Thank you.” 

And Remus watched Regulus swift you away, glaring menacingly at Barty and then victoriously at Remus before the two of you disappeared into the crowded dance floor. 

“I really am sorry, you know. I don’t mean to make it weird.” Remus offered sincerely, watching Barty’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Sorry for what?”

“I-” Remus started, suddenly confused as to the notoriously territorial, rather maniacal boy’s behaviour. Or rather lack thereof. “Well…”

“For checking out that absolute bombshell?” He provided, gesturing towards your general direction with a flippant thumb. “I can hardly blame you for that, can I?”

“Well…I- I guess, but we shouldn’t make it so obvious. Or try to control ourselves with the endearments.” He muttered to himself at his slip of the tongue.

“Oh, gods no.” Barty denied quickly, looking almost distraught at the thought. “Please keep hitting on my girlfriend.” 

Remus could only stare at him, dumbfounded. 

“In fact, you should up the ante; have you seen how cute she gets when she’s all flustered? Or when she pretends to be peeved over it? The little furrow between her brows is my favourite.” He added with a laugh. 

“What?” Remus finally managed.

Barty’s smirk turned playful. “Come now, Lupin. It’s all in good fun, yeah?”

The Slytherin began taking slow steps backwards from Remus, giving him a very pointed and obvious appreciative once over. “In fact, it’s really rather hot.”