#wattlebiird

The tiny stout innkeeper had rented them the room easy enough - taking stock of the young brunette, the rather gentle looking man with her, and their large mangy black hound that seemed quite attached to the girl’s hip. The girl had been ever so polite and far be it from her to judge their age difference since herself and her husband were twenty years apart themselves.

Her weathered hands had pressed the key into the girl’s with good faith and a soft smile.

How silly, putting such faith in a pretty smile, Lupin reflects whilst loping gracefully down the shabby little corridor to their room. The paper under his arm crinkles against his sweater sleeve, careful to have rolled it so that the moving pictures were hidden from muggle eyes.

If that old woman had known that the sweet girl had been traveling with not only one older man, but two (and one being a literal fugitive at that) - she may have been a bit more reluctant.

His scarred hand turns the knob of their one bedroom, entering and shutting the door softly. In the deepest, most self aware part of his mind, Remus realizes that really the revelation of their marriage being false would be the real scandal to the ancient innkeeper.

His amber toned gaze flickering to the wedding ring on his finger against the cool brass of the knob, settling into soft reflection before the sound of sweet little sigh meets his ears. His attention turns over his shoulder to focus on the glitter of the ring matching his own where it shines on a finger half buried in black whorls.

“Good morning,” he intones in a deadpan, though a quirk of a smile affects the corner of his scarred lips.

There’s a hum from Sirius’ place between the girl’s legs, her plush thighs hooked over either of his bare shoulders. The brunette herself props up onto her elbows to meet Remus’ gaze, she smiles at the sight of him and though he’s seen it many a morning now - it still causes his heart to stutter in his chest.

“Mornin’ moony,” comes her soft sleepy voice and Lupin’s cheeks warm in spite of himself. She more often than not has a way about her that makes him feel like a silly schoolboy.

Sirius offers no more than the first hum he gave, smooth lips busying themselves tracing kisses along her inner thigh. Calloused hand tracing further to thumb over her bare hip where the hem of her oversized shirt is rucked up.

“You’re awfully active for so early in the day,” the lycanthrope remarks coolly. He winks at the girl before tentatively taking a seat in the battered armchair next to the corner of the armoire.

The brunette flushes at the sight of him settling in to watch them both, casting her eyes down to where Sirius nips at her skin. His deep gray eyes moved to meet her stare, winking not unlike Remus had just done before pressing a gentle kiss to her clit. Her hips jump in sync with her upper half flopping back onto the bed causing the animagus between her legs to give a soft laugh.

Part of her wonders if they communicate telepathically.

“Funny of you to insinuate I ever miss a meal, Remus.” Sirius flattens his tongue against her, flatly licking up the length of her. Lupin good naturedly laughs through his nose, head tilting to better see the way Sirius has begun to fuck his tongue into her.

“I find myself very committed to breakfast these days,” the animagus jokes softly. The words quickly drop off into a groan as she scratches her nails gently against his scalp. A frankenstein mixture of a sob and a whine stuck in her throat, hips trying to pitch upward further into his mouth.

“Ass,” she manages to grit out between her teeth. Sirius hums and slides a thick finger into her, curling it just so and effectively robbing her of speech.

“Careful, little one, or he’ll accuse you of playing favorites next.” Remus’ tone is all warmth and fondness, her gaze moving to meet his. She whines when her eyes find him loosening his belt, hand clenching in the covers in a sad attempt to stave reaching out to him.

Sirius adds a second finger, pumping them steadily in time with the sucking kisses he presses to her clit. “I know you don’t have a favorite, little bunny,” the reassuring words are practically said into her as he seems regretful to have to pull away to even speak them. His smooth lips pull into a smile before he carefully bites into the soft flesh of her thigh, curling his fingers against that spot only they ever seem to find.

“Remus just gives you whatever you want when you want it and I make you beg for it, hmm?” His fingers have now slowed to a horrible jarring crawl, letting the wave that was building settle like a stone between her hips.

An agonized noise fleeing her lips, pretty head tipping toward where Remus is now pumping over his length. The corner of his mouth is quirked up into a knowing smile, very aware that she has him wrapped around her little finger.

“So cruel, aren’t I, bunny?” Sirius’ smile is pressed into her skin, mustache tickling her thigh whilst he nips  at her before dipping back down to run his tongue up the length of her.

Her back arches at the sudden stimulation, fingers curling through his hair encouragingly. Plush lips part to let loose a litany of pleases and mores, Sirius groaning at the gentle break in her chest with the speech.

“I’d have already let her cum by now,” Remus remarks teasingly. Her watery eyes catching him whilst his tongue runs over his lips, he smiles at her soft keening murmur. “My pretty little wife.”

If she had to name the noise the animagus makes into her, she would call it a scoff. He thrusts two fingers into her punishingly, causing a choked off breath to stutter in her chest - “God, Sirius, please.”

“Oh sure, you get to be married and I get to be the family pet,” comes his slightly bitter voice slick smeared against her skin. He’s curled his fingers to find that spot he’d merely teased before and has focused on it, determined.

She’s clenching hotly around his fingers, hands scrambling to try and press him closer. Those crystalline grey eyes flicker from her face to her core and back again, softening from his earlier bristle at the sight of her.

“Come on, bunny. Give it to me,” he murmurs into her skin. It’s as if the words struck a match against her. Her back arches fully, a breathy whine leaving her chest as she cums harshly against his lips. He continues to lick into her like a man starved, drinking her down greedily.

He sucks his fingers clean when he gently eases them from her, watching the brunette take deep breaths against the sheets. He presses a kiss to her core one last time, like he was mournful to leave his space between her legs. His lean frame moves up until they’re eye to eye.

The animagus can practically feel the cartoon hearts blooming in his eyes as he looks down on her, gently brushing the little curls from her face. She smiles dazedly up at him, a little out of breath.

“Good doggy,” she murmurs brightly.

There’s a brief moment of stunned silence before Remus barks out the loudest and lightest laugh she’s ever heard, entirely youthful in the way it echoes through their little room. Sirius is diving to bite harshly down on her neck whilst she dissolves into a fit of laughter.

“Very funny,” Black intones flatly. Though he has a soft, fond smile curling his smooth lips.

“I thought so,” Remus murmurs from his place in the armchair.

“Since it’s so terribly comical to all involved, you wouldn’t mind getting on your hands and knees for me then, hmm, bunny?” Sirius is nosing gently along the slope of her neck.

His head lifts to meet the most positively devious smile on her pretty face, her lips part and he has absolutely no doubt of the remark that’s about to leave them. A large ring clad hand quickly lifting and curling around her throat, fingers squeeze gently at the sides in warning.

“A single dog related remark out of you and I’ll make sure you don’t cum for a week, is that clear, pretty girl?” Sirius’ voice is a gentle deadly quiet, and if she was anyone else - she’d be rather afraid. But she’s not just  anyone else. So she slowly seals her lips where they still smile brightly, lazily blinking up at her lover fondly.

Remus snorts as he rises from his place, moving to stand at the end of the downy bed. His hand is clenched around the very base of his cock, watching as the brunette moves obediently on her hands and knees. Her pretty face tipping upwards towards him, arching her back to where Sirius kneels behind her.

“Hi moony,” she breathes prettily.

A pleased hum leaving her when the lycanthrope gently cups her face in his hands and brings her lips to his own. Her arms loop around his shoulders, his scarred hands raising to trail up along her stomach until the hem of her shirt. He nips at her bottom lip, breaking the kiss to drag her shirt over her head. Quickly capturing her lips again as soon as the offending article hits the floor.

His tongue traces the seam of her lips, groaning into her mouth when her delicate hand closes around his length. She gently pumps him, tracing her tongue along his bottom lip. The kiss finally breaks when she tosses her head back to let out a little keening whine.

“Forget I was back here, did you?” Sirius teases through grit teeth, thrusting in slowly until his hips were flush with her ass.

“Of course I didn’t, pads. Moons was just looking like he missed me,” her voice is beautifully breathy. Her thumb traces along Lupin’s sharp jaw, leaving him to lean back against Sirius’ chest.

Remus’ head tilts, those consistently soulful amber eyes trailing down to wear the two are joined. The animagus thrusts his hips against her, trying to press closer if that were even possible. The movement forced a gasp from her plush lips.

“Of course he missed you, bunny. Didn’t you, moony?” Sirius smiles softly, his smooth lips pressed a kiss behind her ear before pulling out achingly slow and thrusting back in. There’s a pleased rumble in his chest at the whimper it prompts from her.

“Desperately,” Remus murmurs much too fast. His gaze stuck on where she’s currently soaking his best friend’s cock.

Her lips are softly parted, running her tongue over them at the sight of Lupin in front of her. Sirius’ hips have begun a steady rhythm that has her clenching harshly around him, her hand moving back to run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

She moves away from Sirius down onto her palms to be level with Remus’ cock, her spit slick lips pressing a soft kiss to the head.

“Let me? please,” she breathes onto him, her tongue softly laving across the slit.

“Anything you want,” Remus replies softly, once again responding much faster than he would’ve liked.

She smiles all the same, parting her lips and swallowing him down.  The lycanthrope’s shaky hand moves to slide into her hair, gathering the curls between his fingers whilst she hums around him. Her tongue swirls around the head before he gently thrusts into her mouth, sliding out whilst she keens at the slight loss of him.

Sirius groans behind her at the sight, moving his hips so the two were in sync. One in and the other out, alternating their thrusts in a way that made her head spin pleasantly.

Their fucking telepathy again.

She sucks harder around Remus, desperately chasing the clean taste of him. He curses softly in his throat. His hand tightens in her hair, fucking into her mouth harder. An encouraging hum buzzes in her throat as he chases his release.  

Sirius’ hips speed up to match pace, a sound that’s practically a purr leaving his throat. “Look at you, bunny. Taking us so well,” he praises raggedly.

Her back arches, hips pushed up further for him whilst he gives a soft laugh. Sirius thrusts harder, forcing her to swallow more of the lycanthrope.

“I’m sure if Remus knew it would end like this, he would’ve parted those pretty legs and eaten you right on his school desk.” She can hear the smile in the animagus’ voice.

“Such a sweet little intern you must’ve made,” Sirius murmurs.

She moans needily around Lupin’s cock, his pace stuttering in response.

“Oh fuck you,” Remus grits. His jaw clenching with the effort it’s taking not to cum down her throat.

“Bet you would’ve tasted extra sweet on his break hour, hmm, bunny?” His voice is something so dark and gravelly, it’s making her heart seize in her chest.

She cries out as Black’s calloused finger slides down to rub small circles around her clit, bucking her hips against him at the sudden sensation.

Remus knows he isn’t going to last much longer, not when she’s whining so prettily around him. He curses, fucking deep into her throat and groaning his release. He tries to pull away, but her hand on his hips stills him. She makes a grateful little sound, swallowing his release.

She pulls away to gasp in a breath, whimpering when Remus raises her to gather her into his arms and press his lips to hers.

“She would’ve,” the lycanthrope confirms softly, watching her teary eyes widen at his words.

“Fuck, bunny,” Sirius grits though his teeth as she clenches harshly around him.

Lupin’s fingers move to take over for the animagus, rubbing hard little circles not easing up with her desperate squirming.

“Thought about it more than once,” Remus leans so his lips are at her ear. He notices Sirius’ hips stutter with a soft grin, fucking glutton for punishment. “Bending her over my desk, cleaving my tongue between those thighs, pressing her chest to the wood while I fuck her until she’s a whining mess.”

The lycanthrope’s scarred hand lifts to hold her opposing cheek, nosing along her jawline whilst he talks. “Come on, little one. Cum for me, sweetheart,” his teeth tease a bite along her throat. He sucks a kiss there as she cries out, trembling against his hands and gushing onto Sirius.

Black groans loud and ragged, rhythm faltering as he presses further into her and finds his release. He stills to fill her, making a please sound in his chest when she whines and squirms against him. He slides out of her, humming softly whilst guiding her to sit back against his chest.

Remus is finally sliding off his trousers, pulling the sweater over his head to join them. His enamored amber gaze met the girl’s softened stare, her lips cracking a soft smile.

“You have a thing for me, Professor?”

He rumbles an annoyed sound in his throat, leaning in to silence her with a kiss whilst Sirius snickers. “Very funny,” he parrots Sirius’ earlier words.

Remus guides them all to lay back, leaving her in the middle stretching languidly between the two. He watches her hand stretch back and curl into Sirius’ hair tenderly. The animagus throws a hand across her waist and wretches her back flush against his chest, Lupin hums whilst moving to fill in the space at her front.

“Good doggies,” she murmurs sleepily. Ever needing to have the last word.

Sirius snorts from where his face is buried in her messy curls and Remus smiles so brightly his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“You’ll pay for that later, you know,” Black murmurs softly.

“She will not and you know it,” Lupin breathes. His gaze watches her smile prettily at him before she presses a kiss to the tip of his nose then promptly buries her face into the crook of his neck.

“No, probably not,” Sirius remarks amusedly.

Her eyes flutter open, blinking blearily at the dark canopy aloft the four poster bed she lies upon. The dark velvet swims nauseously for a moment, she swallows heavily as it subsides.

Delicate hands flutter to her nose then quickly lift to her field of vision, finding her fingers to be blessedly free of blood. Her gaze catches on her forearm, finding the once flayed skin to be healed over into a pinkish scar.

“Magic can’t fix everything, unfortunately,” comes a silky voice.

She starts, jolting upright so fast that her head swims. Malfoy stands regally by the crackling hearth, and her heart sinks at the confirmation that she wasn’t simply resting in some foreign room at grimmauld place.

Her tired eyes track over the blond’s towering figure. His forearm rests against the black wood of the mantle, a crystal glass in it’s grip. His back straightens from where he was looking into the fire.

His dark grey gaze flickers to her own, her hands wringing nervously under the weight of it.

“Why… Why heal me?” Her voice is hushed in the gloom, her eyes moving up to meet his stare.

“You needed healing,” he answers simply.

Her attention drops to the carved word on her arm, brow furrowing in contemplation.

“Your lineage, what is it?” The question comes more nonchalantly than she’d figured he was capable of being.

She manages a scoff, gently swinging her feet over the side of bed and coming to a shaky stand. Something in the pit of her stomach lunches when she stumbles and Malfoy starts slightly from his place as though to aid her.

“Why would I tell you anything about me?” It’s said to her toes as she treads toward the door. Unabashedly jiggling the handle in front of him and cursing under her breath when she finds it magicked shut.

She turns over her shoulder to find him staring at her, the corner of his smooth lips quirked up slightly in something close to amusement.

The brunette paces softly to the window and tries to pry it upward, finding it warded as well. When she turns to face him he has an elegant brow arched in question.

“My father was an muggle and my mother was a witch, and yet they both were still stupid children who managed to have a pretty large accident.”  The retort is dry and bland, her petite figure moving achingly to sit back on the bed. It’s unspoken, but she assumes he’s clever enough to realize that she is the aforementioned accident.

Her gaze finds Lucius looking at her curiously, as though he wanted to crack her apart and scrutinize her insides. The way one might do with an unruly clock.

“I understand it, I’m dirt and filth and nothing more than the scum on the bottom of your shoe,” she’s leveling him with a look that makes his mouth twitch. “But I have something you never will,” this leaves her with a tone of finality he never anticipated.

Alright, he’ll bite.

“And what might that be?”

“Love,” she’s turning to him with a pity in her gaze that leaves a bitter, acrid taste on his tongue. “True love, the kind that you’d do anything for. The kind that breeds trust, compassion and loyalty. A love of life.”

Lucius’ jaw clenches, tendons flexing under the skin. Though she believes she wasn’t meant to notice it. He solemnly raises his glass to his smooth lips, now confirmed in the root of such loyalty that seems to sluice through the very fibre of her being.

“War can breed indifference, little witch.” His tone is flat and cast almost fully into his glass, which seems precariously low.

“War makes monsters of men,” she shoots back bravely. Or rather stupidly depending on who’s perspective you’re entertaining. And she definitely doesn’t miss that Lord Malfoy acknowledged her by the title of witch.

His lithe figure turns to her, resting his glass onto the mantle with an audible clack before his feet hush along the carpet.

He’s eerily calm. The quiet makes her swallow nervously, in a way she knows she’d prefer his rage to this horribly predatory silence.

He reaches her, angular features betraying nothing as he puts two fingers under her chin and lifts her gaze to his own.

Deep grey eyes slide across her features, almost appraisingly before they settle on her lips. They drag upward to meet her stare and he seems almost at ease with how rigid and on edge he’s made her.

“Lucifer was once the favored, golden son of god as you may recall,” it’s stated in a dangerously soft drawl.

Her body feels frozen, the feeling ebbing outward from his touch which begins to travel upward. His calloused thumb smoothes over the apple of her cheek, lifting to brush a lock of hair from her face and sliding back to trace her jawline.

“And even you yourself believed I was an angel once,” he murmurs softly. Crystalline grey stare shifting from the place where his thumb caresses her skin to her eyes.

There’s something knowing blooming across his face when the girl flushes prettily. The high points of her cheeks suffusing with a deep rose hue, her plush lips parting to speak and finding no noise will leave them.

Her brow furrows gently as though trying to puzzle out when that may have happened and then it slots easily into place in her thoughts. A groggy awakening where she believed she was dreaming, or straying rapidly toward death at the very least. There’d been a man in her field of vision, hazy - and yet there all the same.

There’s something fierce about the look that enters her face, pulling abruptly from his grasp.

“Yes, well, being moments from death will take it out of you,” her voice is strong and clear. As steely as it had been when she’d told Bellatrix to bite her.

Malfoy’s hand is quicker than she could’ve anticipated, ring clad hand sealing around her throat expertly. As though she’d been wearing his hand there all her life. The tips of his fingers push in at the sides with an expertise that makes her heart skip a beat.

There’s a brief charged moment where their eyes clash before Lucius yanks her forward to put his smooth lips at her ear.

“And whose fault might that be?” The question makes her shudder with the brush of his lips against her skin.

“Choosing a side will always end in bloodshed. That’s what war is, little girl.” His feature tip until his lips are running along her cheekbone. “Don’t presume you’re safe simply because I’ve healed your wounds, I could’ve been bandaging you purely to allow Lestrange to start in on you again.”

Ice sluices down her spine, fear furrowing into her heart like poison into a wound. Her hands lift to press at his broad chest, but he squeezes at her throat until her blood roars in her ears. The pressure easing just before she feels too faint to remain cognizant.

“You’re cruel,” she grits out between clenched teeth. It’s spoken as though it were the worst insult she could’ve hurled at him. And to her, it probably was.

“Perhaps,” he murmurs. His hand drifted from her throat back into her hair, threading his fingers through and tugging until she had no choice, but to look up at him.

Their lips are practically touching and he’s looking down at her with something heavy in his gaze that makes her breath stick in her throat.

“Though, I’ve never met an angel who wasn’t,” it’s spoken as though he were divulging some careful secret.

He’s leaning lithely against the mantle of an ornate gothic fireplace, snowy white hair pinned half up to allow for ease of sight. His large ring adorned hand blandly swirls a dark amber liquid around in a crystal tumbler. He’s an exceedingly tall man with a sharp, handsome face and an aura of sophistication about him. He’s just as gothically beautiful as the room surrounding him; however, he currently looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else - bored.

He lifts the glass to his smooth lips as another guttural scream pierces the air, bringing with it an unbidden, unpleasant feeling that pools in his chest.

Stark grey gaze flickering to the brunette pinned beneath the frizzy haired form of his sister in law. Lestrange’s wand is jutting into the girl’s sternum, casting curse after curse into the brunette’s flesh.

“You’ve seen the boy! I know it! Where is he?” Bellatrix's voice echoes shrilly to the high ceilings of the manor.

The blond flits his eyes to the girl’s face, jumping from the blood sluggishly pouring from her nose to the cuts across her cheekbones. Lucius has never had a stomach for torture himself, idly recalling it as a barbaric non-necessity. Hence, his sister in law’s presence.

The girl, to her credit, has been enduring this for three hours now. The brunette was nothing special, not really. A former Hufflepuff far out of her depth in league with the Order and that undying runt, fighting for everything good and pure.

Malfoy takes another sip from his glass, head atilt as his focus moves to the girl’s arm where mudblood is carved maliciously into the skin. Bellatrix spits another curse and he watches the green curl into the girl’s chest. Her shirt tattered around her chest to allow the death eater’s wand to touch skin.

Another scream cracks the air, this one sounds more like a sort of sob. It crackles wetly in the girl’s chest, alluding to some unseen bleeding beneath her breast. He thinks this is it, she’ll finally give up the boy. She has to- anymore of this and Lestrange’s tantrum will end in her death.

But a soft foreign sound twinkles from the brunette’s throat and at first, Lucius believes it to be crying. Until his head cranes further and finds it to be a laugh.

The girl is laughing. It’s dim and slow, but clear as water.

Malfoy’s brow furrows, throat feeling sticky with something he can’t comprehend.

“Bite me,” the girl rasps. It sounds like gravel in her chest, but she manages to allow the words out.

Bellatrix screams in a rage, fury rolling off her in a tangible mass. The death eater raises her wand under the girl’s chin, threat beaming behind her eyes. Malfoy sneers at the display, having long since decided this method of extraction is clearly not working. His dress shoes hush a steady tread along the ancient rug, a large hand curling around his sister in law’s shoulder like a vice.

“Killing her would do you no service,” the unspoken threat lingers there. Disobeying their master would result in more harm than any death eater was willing to shoulder.

Lestrange mutters something under her breath, tearing out of the room and the manor to return to Voldemort’s side.

Malfoy’s grey gaze watches the thick black smog speed out of the foyer before turning his focus to the battered girl wilting against his floors. Pretty little thing she was, beneath the blood and bruises staining her skin.

He moves to kneel at the girl’s side, accessing the sluggish rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes had fallen shut, a soft discontented noise that sounded like a whimper falling from her lips. Lucius’ hand moves to brush the errant, blood slicked curls from her face.

His mind curls against the girl’s, deciding if there was a time to use his aptitude for legilimency - it’s when she was unconscious and weak. His thoughts move through the cluttered mass of her own, taking stock of the place as though it were some hidden library.

He flits by happy memories - the girl laughing at the great hall, an adolescent prank gone wrong and watching her tear along the portrait lined halls with two red headed twins beside her, and carving a large pumpkin outside a decrepit little shack he recognizes to be the school’s gamekeeper's home. She’d been lining these memories around the pain - smart girl.

He catches a flash of the Order and pulls on the memory like thread, feeling it resist and unravel before him. The answer he receives gives him such a jolt that he rips himself from her mind entirely.

“You never knew,” he murmurs aloud. Grey eyes searching her bloodied, unconscious face for answers and finding none.

The brunette hadn’t known where Potter was, not even an inkling of his whereabouts. Only allowing herself to be tortured to waste their time. If the death eaters, even partially, were preoccupied with her then the boy had that much more of a chance at success.

Lucius’ jaw clenches, a horrible feeling creeping in on tender feet and settling in the base of his spine. Such loyalty.

The girl stirs, hiccoughing herself awake and startling when she doesn’t immediately recognize her surroundings. Her warm eyes turn to Malfoy’s, a sort of dazed look about them as though she were still dreaming. Her petite frame moves to try to sit up and Lucius’ hand settles it’s palm against her collar bone.

“Easy,” he remarks softly.

He’s taking her in like he’s truly seeing her for the first time, looking at her with something unidentifiable resting behind his eyes. Her delicate fingers are raising to link across the ones resting near her shoulder, curling around them gently.

Pedantic grey eyes flicker to the girl’s face, watching her plush lips form a sort of weary smile. Her eyes run over his face, in a way he might deign as reverent.

“I never really believed in angels,” comes her soft voice. It sounds much too thick to be healthy, her lips are a horribly pallid shade of pink.

Lucius is frozen, brow slightly furrowing at her words. His lithe frame rigid as he watches the hand holding his own unfurl and raise. Gentle fingers trace the line of his jaw devoutly, a caress that leaves him feeling traitorously warm where her touch lies.

“So beautiful,” she breathes.

She shudders out a breath and her eyes flutter shut once more, his hand swiftly catching her slightly raised head before it can hit the floor. For a horrible moment, one he doesn’t dare ponder the meaning of - he holds her. His breathing has long since halted in his chest as he waits - waits to see if she’s dead.

Then her chest stutters a raspy inhale and the moment ends with the sound. Lucius sighs a breath through his nose, shifting his lean arms under her knees and back to lift her into his chest.

HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE:

Sirius Black:

Ship in a Bottle ☼ - sirius/female reader/remus

Teacher’s Pet ☼ - sirius/female reader/remus (mainly remus)

Remus Lupin:

Ship in a Bottle ☼ - sirius/female reader/remus

Teacher’s Pet ☼ - sirius/female reader/remus 

Lucius Malfoy: