meet ivory ! ( 18+, i will block minors and ageless blogs so please do not interact! )
she/her, 18, writer; married to anakin skywalker, jason todd, and artemis fowl <3
ribbons in curly brown hair, messy cursive handwriting, satiny skirts, strawberries in winter, handkerchiefs as bookmarks, david bowie vinyls, fields of pale pink tulips.
currently writing: always been you, leo valdez x oc, fluff, suggestive
currently listening to: race for the prize by the flaming lips
currently reading: crime and punishment by dostoevsky
rating: suggestive but nothing explicit, part 2 might have smut
content: kissing, dry humping if you squint
note: this is fowl twins era!artemis, canonically in his twenties. might be a bit ooc? i know nothing about science or machines btw. uploading an old draft to keep yall fed while my exams are going on 😭
Artemis had you wired up like one of his machines.
Pulse oximeter on your finger, electrodes set neatly on your skin, your heart rate projected on a crisp blue graph across his tablet screen. It was clinical, precise, exactly what you’d expect from him.
And yet.
Every time he leaned close to adjust a wire, every time his pale fingers brushed your wrist or brushed past your throat, the graph spiked higher. You didn’t bother hiding it. In fact, you smirked, leaning back in the leather chair like you had nothing to lose.
“This is wildly unprofessional, Arty,” you drawled, deliberately using the nickname only you and a select few got away with. “Testing me like one of your lab rats.”
“Control subject,” he corrected smoothly, eyes still on the data, voice cool as always. “I need a baseline to assess physical readiness, particularly in stressful proximity environments. Given your training under Madam Ko, I deemed you a suitable candidate.”
You arched a brow, tugging at the pulse clip just to make him look up. “So what you’re saying is—you trust me.”
That earned you the faintest pause, his gaze flicking to yours for half a second too long. “I trust your training,” he said, but his voice had dipped, softer at the edges.
Your heart jumped. The monitor tattled on you with a cheerful beep.
His eyes narrowed at the screen, then at you. “You’re deliberately raising your heart rate.”
You bit your lip and leaned forward, closing the space between you, just enough to see the faint flush crawl up his pale throat. “Or maybe you’re just bad for my health.”
The graph spiked again. You laughed. Artemis did not.
He pressed his lips together, recalibrating the sensor with quick, sharp movements, as if the problem lay in the technology and not in the way your eyes lingered on his mouth.
You’d known him for years. Juliet had introduced you when you were still brash and bruised from sparring sessions, and Artemis was still too sharp, too adult for his age, already terrifyingly brilliant. You’d always been the one to tease, to needle, to flirt—not because you expected him to flirt back, but because it was the only way you could handle how you felt about him.
But now, years later, sitting in the glow of his study lamps with his careful hands on your skin—every teasing word felt heavier. He wasn’t a young teen anymore. And you weren’t either.
“Proximity test,” Artemis murmured, sitting down beside you, moving closer until his knee brushed yours. He was all angles and shadows, the sharp scent of his cologne mingling with the cool air. “The subject’s response should plateau after repeated exposure.”
You smiled slowly, leaning in until your breath ghosted his cheek. “Wanna bet?”
The graph shrieked. Artemis froze.
For once, you had him cornered. He swallowed—just barely, but you caught it. And the tenderness blooming in your chest nearly undid you. You’d wanted to kiss him for years, not just because he was brilliant or untouchable, but because he was him. Cold, calculating, exasperating—and the boy who had always, always looked at you like you were more than noise.
So you kissed him. Just like that.
All those years of silent pining and heartache culminating in one short kiss—
Not hard. Not hurried. Just pressed your mouth to his with aching slowness, every ounce of your love bleeding into it. His lips were softer than you imagined, hesitant at first—but when you tilted your head and deepened the kiss, his composure faltered. His hand came up to cradle your jaw, trembling almost imperceptibly, and he kissed you back with the desperation of someone who’d starved himself of touch for years.
The monitor was shrill now, forgotten. You slid out of your seat, straddling his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands settled—tentative at first, then firmer—at your waist.
“Not… appropriate,” he managed between kisses, voice already unraveling. “Completely… unscientific—”
You swallowed his words with your mouth, grinding down against him until his breath stuttered, until a low, broken sound escaped him. “Not everything has to be science, Arty,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “Sometimes it’s just want.”
His control snapped like glass.
He kissed you again—harder this time, devouring, pulling you closer like he couldn’t get enough. Each kiss stole the air from your lungs, left you dizzy with more than just lust. His hands slid under your shirt, fingers splaying against your back, possessive in a way that made your heart ache.
When you rolled your hips against him again, you felt how hard he already was, straining under the press of expensive trousers. He groaned into your mouth, his composure gone, his precision replaced with raw, unstudied need.
“Y-you’re…” His forehead dropped to your shoulder, words strangled, as you rocked on his lap. “You’re deliberately compromising the experiment.”
You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips swollen from kissing, his perfect composure in ruins. And God, you loved him like this—loved him too much.
“Good,” you whispered, kissing him again, slow and aching. “Then let it fail.”
This blog is a safe space. No bigotry (misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, racism, etc.) will be tolerated. Offenders will be blocked.
All characters written for are 18+ or canonically aged up.
I always write for a female reader.
This is my only writing blog. Do not copy, repost, or translate my work on any platform or feed it into AI.
I am always open to constructive criticism! Please don't be rude about it, though.
This blog is not spoiler-free. I may forget warnings sometimes; feel free to remind me.
CONTENT BOUNDARIES
Dark content I do write (warnings are mentioned clearly at the start of fics): Monsterfucking, cuckolding, degradation, somnophilia, corruption, double penetration, voyeurism, semi-public themes, piss, stepcest, dubcon, bestiality.
I will not write: Non-con / rape, incest, scat, age play, pet play, self-harm, racism, pedophilia, pregnancy / lactation kinks.
INTERACTION AND INBOX
If you want to be an anon or tagged, feel free to ask, my inbox is always open!
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rating: 18+. mdni.
content: bsf!jason, handjobs
note: this is for all the jason gooners out there, tysm i feel so loved 😵 sorry for the late post
You tried to focus on the waves lapping against the shore, the salt-thick breeze rolling in from the ocean, and the lazy warmth of the sun pressing into your skin as you lounged under the umbrella. It should’ve been peaceful, idyllic even—a rare day without chaos or bruises or sleepless nights.
But you couldn’t ignore the fact that your best friend was hard. Achingly so.
Jason was sitting back on the beach mat, legs stretched out, trying very hard to look like he wasn’t squirming. His jaw was clenched, his chest rose and fell faster than the situation warranted, and his swim trunks were doing a terrible job of hiding just how turned on he was.
You bit your lip, glancing down at the small scraps of fabric you’d so carefully chosen to wear this morning. Maybe you’d picked the tiniest bikini you owned on purpose. Maybe you’d caught yourself thinking about how he touched you before, how his voice had dropped when you’d gasped his name, how you’d been dreaming about what he’d sound like falling apart for you.
And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to find out right now.
You rolled onto your knees, flashing him a deliberately sweet smile. “You’re looking a little… red,” you said lightly, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen. “Let me help before you burn.”
Jason groaned, throwing his head back. “I’m fine.”
“Shut up and let me.” You nudged the bottle against his chest, and when he didn’t argue again, you took that as victory. You squeezed lotion onto your palm and crawled forward, settling neatly between his legs, facing him. He was leaning back on his elbows, hair windswept and damp at the ends, and you could feel his eyes tracking your every movement.
You smoothed the sunscreen over his broad chest, deliberately slow, watching how his abs tensed under your touch. He shifted, trying to discreetly adjust himself, but you pretended not to notice. Instead, your hands drifted lower—over his stomach, dipping just a little too far past his navel before pulling back up like nothing had happened.
Jason’s breath caught, his hips twitching involuntarily.
“Relax,” you murmured, almost laughing at his expression. “You’re so tense.”
“Not exactly helping,” he ground out.
You hummed, pretending to be thoughtful, then tilted your head. “Let me sit. Shoulders need it too.”
He sighed but obeyed, sitting up compliantly. You straddled his lap without hesitation, sitting directly over the hard outline pressing into his trunks. Jason went utterly still.
“Oh,” you said innocently, adjusting your weight as if you hadn’t noticed the way he stiffened under you. “I think I’m sitting on something in your pocket.”
Jason let out a strangled noise. “That’s not—”
“Let me check.” Your hand slid down between you, brushing against the obvious bulge. You widened your eyes in mock surprise, fingers curling around him through the thin fabric. “Oh. Definitely not your phone.”
The sound that ripped out of him wasn’t words—it was a guttural groan, deep and raw, as his hips jerked up into your hand. You barely had time to register it before his whole body tensed beneath you. His head tipped back, a low moan escaping from his lips as his cock twitched violently, spilling into his swim trunks almost instantly.
You froze, eyes widening, but then his groan turned needy, desperate, and you realized how hard he still was even after cumming immediately.
“Fuck—sorry—” Jason’s voice broke, his chest heaving.
You tightened your grip instead of letting go. “Don’t apologize.”
And then you began to stroke him.
Slow at first, dragging your hand over the wet, sensitive outline, squeezing him through the fabric until he was panting. His thighs flexed under you, spreading wider, his body straining up into your hand like he couldn’t help it.
“God—” Jason choked, muscles flexing as his eyes fluttered shut. “That—fuck, that feels—”
You pressed kisses along his jaw as you worked him, rubbing him until the damp fabric clung to his shape, until you slid your hand underneath, directly touching his skin. He was groaning openly now, no restraint left, his hips bucking helplessly into your fist.
“Such a mess already,” you teased softly against his ear, picking up the pace.
His answering sound was almost a whimper, guttural and wrecked. His hands flew to your waist, gripping you hard like he needed an anchor.
You tightened your strokes, twisting at the head, dragging your palm down his length until he was shaking. “Come for me again, Jason.”
“F-fuck—” His whole body went rigid as he cried out, voice breaking beautifully. He jerked in your hand, cumming hard a second time, hot and thick, his cock twitching desperately as you stroked him through it.
You didn’t stop until he sagged back against the mat, ruined and gasping, chest heaving as though you’d just wrung every last bit of strength out of him.
Finally, you released him, wiping your slick hand against the towel as you leaned in to kiss his jaw. He was still trembling, but he managed a weak, dazed laugh.
“We’re not going back from this,” he rasped, voice raw.
You grinned, brushing your nose against his. “Glad you think so.”
how I’m leaving wayne manor after wiring myself 20 million dollars, securing jason todd’s number and cracking nightwing on my way out cuz he’s easy like a sunday morning
Being a Harry girl who reads fanfic can be so frustrating at times. When I search up Harry Potter x reader. ITS CAUSE I WANT HARRY X READER FICS! NOT DRACO, OR FRED OR CEDRIC!
can i request jason catching reader trying to get off but she cant so jason helps her out 😛
Worst best friend ever. [ Jason Todd x Reader]
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: bsf!jason, fingering, cumming in his pants
note: thanks for the request anon i loved writing this
Sleepovers with Jason weren’t new. You’d had a hundred of them—books, greasy takeout, arguing over playlists until you both passed out. But this one? This one was different.
Because Jason had finally crashed, sprawled on his stomach beside you, shirt riding up just enough to show the cut of his waist. And you… were still very, very awake.
Awake and ridiculously, inexplicably turned on.
You waited until his breathing evened out before sliding a hand under the blanket, into your shorts. Just enough to circle your clit, desperate for relief. But every time the heat built, it fizzled out—nerves tangling with frustration. It was hard to focus when your best friend was right there.
You bit your lip, stifling a whimper. And then—
“Seriously?”
You jolted, yanking your hand out like you’d been burned. Jason was on his side now, eyes half-lidded but very much awake, mouth quirking.
“I—shut up,” you hissed, scrambling for the blanket.
He cocked a brow. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
Your cheeks burned. “Jason—”
He reached out, catching your wrist before you could burrow away. His grip was firm but careful, his voice low. “You’re struggling. Let me help.”
You blinked at him. “You’re joking.”
“Dead serious.” His thumb brushed your pulse, steady and sure. “C’mon. You helped me. Fair’s fair.”
The reminder hit you square in the chest. Couch. Bedroom. The way he’d learned you so fast it scared you. Your throat went dry.
And then Jason was sliding closer, throwing a leg over yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Move your hand,” he murmured.
You did, trembling, and his replaced it immediately. Larger, rougher, warmer.
The first stroke of his fingers against your clit had you arching, gasping before you could swallow it back. Jason’s smirk turned smug, but his touch stayed steady, confident.
“Yeah,” he rasped, watching your face. “That’s better. Look at you already falling apart.”
“Shut up,” you whined, hips rocking helplessly.
“Can’t. Not when you sound like that.”
He dragged slow circles, then dipped lower, teasing your entrance. When you clenched around his fingertips, he swore under his breath.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, sliding two fingers inside without warning.
Your moan was shameless this time, back arching, hands clutching his shoulders.
“Good girl,” Jason breathed, curling just right, just like you’d taught him. “Knew I’d get it.”
The rhythm built fast, his thumb rough on your clit, his fingers pressing that perfect spot until you were gasping his name like it was the only word you knew.
“Jas—I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” he urged, voice sharp, desperate. “C’mon, sweetheart, let me make you come.”
And then you did. Hard. Your whole body clenched, shaking around his fingers as the orgasm ripped through you. Jason swore, low and reverent, working you through it until you were trembling messily in his arms.
When you finally collapsed, boneless, he pulled his hand away, licking his fingers clean. His eyes were glazed over, a dark, wet stain at the front of his sweats.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, dazed. “Did you...”
Jason gulped, his cheeks burning, the look on his face downright filthy as he collapsed back beside you. “Told you I’d help.”
You shoved his chest weakly. “You’re the worst best friend ever.”
He chuckled, already tugging you against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Nah. I’m the best.”
oh my god, your Jason fics just required my brain. Especially the need a hand one. I will never read anything as life changing again, I’m gonna be thinking about your writing for weeks🫠
my first ask AAAAA
this is like the best compliment ever i love you anon
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: bsf!jason, fingering
note: i'm gonna make this a series UGHH ovulating so bad rn
You should’ve known the second Jason leaned across your bed, red in the face but determined, that he was about to say something stupid.
“Okay, don’t laugh,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, eyes darting everywhere but yours. “But… I want you to teach me how to finger a girl.”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I said don’t laugh! I just—look, I don’t wanna be that guy, you know? The one who’s all talk and then… sucks at it.” His voice dropped, muttering, “And you’re the only one I trust not to roast me forever.”
That was a lie. You were absolutely going to roast him forever. “So your master plan,” you said slowly, “Is to ask me—your best friend—to let you practice sticking your fingers up my—”
“Not like that!” He shot upright, ears flaming. “I mean—yeah, maybe like that eventually, but I thought—” He broke off, swallowing. “I thought you could just… show me? On yourself. Like, what feels good. And I’ll watch. Then I’ll know what to do.”
The air went electric between you. Jason, trying to look calm, was anything but—his leg bounced against the mattress, his lips pressed thin like he was holding back a thousand words.
“You’re serious,” you said, studying him.
“Dead serious.” He finally met your eyes, and something about the rawness there—the need—made your stomach do a flip. “Please. I need to know how. And… I want it to be you who shows me.”
God help you, you shifted back against the headboard, heart thumping. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, already sliding your hand under the waistband of your shorts. His eyes widened, tracking every movement like he’d never seen anything more important.
“Holy shit,” he breathed when your fingers skimmed lower, pulling off your shorts and then your panties.
“You’re staring like a creep,” you teased, but your voice was soft, your other hand bracing on the sheets as you let two fingers trail through your folds. Heat spiked low in your belly, and Jason leaned closer unconsciously, breath shallow.
“Talk me through it,” he said hoarsely.
You bit your lip but nodded. “Slow at first,” you murmured, gathering your wetness and circling your clit with the lightest pressure. A quiet sound slipped out of you. “You don’t just dive in. You… warm her up.”
Jason’s pupils blew wide, chest rising and falling quick. His knuckles were white where he gripped his knee.
“Then,” you continued, sliding a finger inside yourself, “You curl your fingers. Not straight in and out. Curl—like you’re beckoning.” You demonstrated, a gasp catching in your throat.
Jason groaned low, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “Fuck. Okay. Curl. Got it.”
You added another finger, pushing deeper, showing him the slow rhythm. Your head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut. “You angle up—toward the front wall. That’s where it’s sensitive.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jason muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. His hoodie bunched at his hips, doing nothing to hide the obvious strain in his sweats. “You’re… fuck, you’re so hot.”
“Focus, Todd,” you teased, though your breath was shaky as your thumb pressed against your clit in time with your thrusts. “Pay attention. You asked for a lesson.”
“I am,” he swore, voice cracking a little. He leaned in closer, hanging on your every movement. “You look—shit—so good like that. Gonna make sure I get it right. Swear it.”
Your hips stuttered as you felt the coil tighten, your moans slipping free before you could swallow them down. Jason was nearly panting now, his voice rough and desperate when he whispered, “Please, let me try. I can do it. Just—fuck—please.”
You let out an involuntary whimper at his voice, your body arched as you worked yourself open, every nerve ending alive under his gaze.
“Please,” he said again, almost broken now. “I wanna try. Need to feel you—need you to tell me if I’m doing it right.”
You let your fingers slip free, coated in arousal, and almost cried at the loss. He watched them withdraw, throat bobbing.
Gently, he grabbed your wrist. His fingers trembled, larger than yours, calloused from too many nights swinging crowbars and guns. “Can I?”
When you nodded at him, he let out a shaky breath, bringing your fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. A guttural noise ripped from his throat.
“Come here,” you murmured, guiding his hand. You brought it between your thighs, pressing his middle finger against your slick entrance.
He exhaled sharply. “Fuck—you’re so warm.”
“Slow,” you whispered, gripping his wrist to steady him as he pushed inside. You both gasped at the stretch—him at the way you clenched, you at the way he stared, awestruck and reverent, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him do this.
“Now curl,” you instructed softly, rolling your hips just enough to show him. “Not straight. Curl toward me.”
He obeyed, tentative at first, then firmer when your sharp inhale encouraged him. “Like this?”
“Yes—fuck, yes,” you moaned, nails digging into his arm. “Right there.”
Jason’s face lit up, pride mixing with hunger. “Oh my god, I felt that. You—your whole body—” He shoved another finger in beside the first, clumsy but eager. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It’s perfect,” you groaned, head falling back against the headboard. He curled and thrust, his breath ragged in your ear as he built a rhythm.
“Jesus, you’re squeezing so tight,” he rasped, pressing his thumb experimentally against your clit. You gasped, and his eyes widened like he’d just uncovered treasure. “That—yeah? That’s good?”
“Don’t stop—oh my god—don’t stop.”
Jason’s jaw flexed, his focus razor-sharp despite how his hips were jerking restlessly, his cock straining against his sweats. He leaned in close, his voice rough: “C’mon, show me I’m doing it right. Please—come for me.”
Your body seized as he curled just right, thumb grinding clumsy, relentless circles against your clit. The wave hit you hard, your moan spilling raw into the room as you clutched his wrist, hips bucking into his hand.
Jason swore under his breath, watching you unravel. “Holy shit—holy shit, I made you—” He slowed only when you flinched, but kept his fingers inside, awed at the way you pulsed around him.
When your breathing finally steadied, you cracked an eye open to see him looking completely wrecked; flushed, panting, pupils blown wide.
“Well?” you teased weakly. “Lesson learned?”
He gave a shaky laugh, pulling his fingers free, sucking on them without shame. “Learned it. Memorized it. Probably dreaming about it for the rest of my life.”
Then, bolder, rough-voiced, “But… maybe I need a little more practice.”
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: bsf!jason, dry humping, cumming in his pants
note: you can rip this trope out of my cold dead hands
Your best friend’s couch had been through a lot—beer spills, ramen accidents, and more Gotham dirt than you wanted to think about. But this? This was definitely a new low.
“This is a dumb idea,” you muttered, straddling Jason’s lap anyway, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of him.
Jason smirked, leaning back against the armrest, arms spread lazily across the back of the couch like he hadn’t just suggested the stupidest thing you’d ever agreed to. “C’mon, you’re telling me you never wondered?”
“No,” you said immediately, even though your palms were already pressed to his chest for balance, feeling the hard muscle under his t-shirt.
“Liar.”
You rolled your eyes. “Jason, we’re best friends. Best friends don’t—”
“Dry hump?” He grinned wider, all teeth and trouble. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s not like we’re fucking. Think of it as… stress relief.”
You should’ve said no. Instead, you shifted forward, and suddenly his cock was a hot, obvious line under the rough denim of his jeans, pressing right against you through your thin shorts. Both of you froze, eyes locking, breath caught.
“See?” Jason said finally, voice lower, rougher. “Not so dumb.”
You meant to shove him, but when you pressed your hands harder against his chest, your hips shifted with the movement. His breath hissed between his teeth, and his hands were suddenly on your hips, holding you there.
“Jay—”
“Shut up,” he muttered, rolling his hips up slow, dragging himself right where you were already sensitive. The friction was sharp, raw, too much and not enough all at once. “Just move.”
And you did. Hesitant at first, rocking against him in jerky little shifts until his grip tightened and guided you into a steady rhythm. The scrape of denim against your clit made your thighs tremble, heat crawling up your neck.
“This is so stupid,” you managed, biting back a sound when he lifted his hips to meet yours.
“Yeah,” Jason rasped, smirking even as his pupils blew wide. “Totally not sexy at all.”
Your laugh came out strangled. Especially because he was hard, really hard, straining against his jeans, and every grind made you feel it more. He saw the realization hit your face and smirked wider.
“You feel that?” he murmured, thumbs digging into your hips. “That’s all you, baby.”
“God, you’re disgusting.”
“And you’re soaking through your shorts,” he shot back, his voice thick with arousal.
You shoved his shoulder, but your hips never stopped moving. The tension coiled tighter with every drag, every sharp little rut of his cock against your clit. When his hand slid lower, over the curve of your ass, squeezing you tighter to grind harder, a whimper slipped out before you could stop it.
“Fuck,” Jason groaned, head tipping back, eyes squeezing shut. “Keep doing that, keep—”
The pace grew sharper, more desperate. His chest heaved under your hands, his thighs flexing beneath you as he thrust up to meet every roll of your hips. Your shorts were soaked, clinging to you, and the pressure against your clit was almost unbearable.
“Jay—” you gasped, clutching his shirt, nails digging into the fabric.
“Yeah, I know,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Me too, baby, me too—fuck—”
The last push came when he slid a hand up under your shirt, hot palm pressing against your bare waist, anchoring you down as he bucked up hard. The friction slammed into you just right, white heat snapping through your core.
You came with a sharp cry, hips jerking against his, thighs trembling around his lap. Jason cursed loud, grinding up through your orgasm, chasing his own until his whole body went taut and he spilled hot into his jeans with a ragged groan.
Silence followed—except for your mingled panting, the wet sound of fabric against fabric as you both slowed to a stop.
You collapsed forward onto his chest, forehead against his shoulder. He laughed breathlessly, hand still stroking over your hip.
“This never happened,” you said, voice muffled.
“Sure,” Jason drawled, grinning against your hair. “Until next time.”
You smacked his shoulder weakly. He only laughed harder, dissolving into a moan when you ground your hips down viciously.
before i read the manga i thought higuruma and nanami were like best friends because of all the fanarts and fics of them together and let me tell you guys how upset i was when i actually read it and saw that they didn’t even know each other
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: cockwarming, p in v, dom!reader, sub!gojo
note: i need this man biblically
Gojo’s apartment looked like a crime scene made entirely of paperwork. Sheets were spread across the coffee table, stacked on the couch, and a few had even fallen onto the rug. He was slouched back in the armchair opposite, legs spread wide, pen dangling from his fingers like he’d already given up.
“Why is paperwork the most cursed curse of all?” he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the cushion. “I save Japan at least twice a week, and this is my reward? Forms?”
You smirked from your spot on the couch. “You’d finish faster if you stopped whining.”
“Or,” he countered instantly, one pale eye peeking open, “I get my pretty little girlfriend to sit on me until it magically does itself.”
You arched a brow. “Sit on you?”
His grin widened, lazy and boyish, already unbuttoning his pants. “Mhm. On my cock. You keep me nice and motivated while I power through this nightmare.”
You rolled your eyes, but when he tugged you over with those strong arms, you didn’t resist. Climbing onto his lap, straddling him in the chair, you gave him a look that was half challenge, half promise. “Fine. But you’re the one who asked for this.”
The words hadn’t even left your mouth before he was groaning again—this time not from boredom—as you pulled your panties aside and sank down onto him. He was already hard, twitching at the first squeeze of your cunt, his head lolling back as his hands gripped the armrests.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, thighs trembling beneath you. “Warm. So—shit—that’s so much better than paperwork.”
“Mmhm.” You settled fully, hips pressing flush to his, holding him inside without moving. You laced your fingers behind his neck, lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Now be a good boy and get your work done.”
He whimpered. Actually whimpered. And for the next fifteen minutes, you tortured him—every time he tried to shift, you clenched around him; every time his focus drifted from the papers to your face, you nipped at his jaw and reminded him to write.
“You’re evil,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his pen shaking in his hand. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Of course I do,” you purred. “You asked me to keep you still, didn’t you?”
But the sight of him undone like this—cheeks flushed, sweat prickling along his hairline, cock twitching helplessly inside you as he scrawled uneven letters across another report—made your own patience snap. You rolled your hips once, slow and deliberate, and he choked on his breath, the paper slipping from his fingers.
“Baby, please,” he gasped, clutching your waist. “Please move, I can’t—I can’t take it anymore—”
You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “So desperate already? All it took was sitting still for a little while?”
“Yes,” he blurted without shame, eyes glassy behind his slipped blindfold. “Yes, yes, just ride me, please, I’ll do anything—”
That was all the permission you needed. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you lifted yourself up and slammed back down, the wet slap echoing through the apartment. Gojo cried out, voice cracking into a needy whine, his hands flying to your hips to hold on.
“Fuck, that’s—ahh—so good—” he babbled, head falling forward against your chest. “You feel so good, baby, please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—”
You rode him hard, bouncing in his lap until the chair squeaked and the paperwork scattered to the floor. Every thrust had him unraveling further, the strongest sorcerer in the world begging beneath you like he couldn’t take another second of restraint.
“You like this, huh?” you teased, tugging at his hair until he moaned. “Getting used like a toy while you whine in my ear?”
“Yes—fuck, yes, please—”
You leaned down, lips brushing his, and ground down hard, making him jolt. “Come for me, Satoru.”
He shattered with a loud, desperate cry, spilling inside you as his whole body trembled. His grip on your waist was bruising, his hips jerking helplessly beneath you as you rode him through it, milking every drop until he was a wreck, panting into your shoulder.
Only when he was whimpering from overstimulation did you finally slow, stroking his damp hair back from his forehead. He slumped against you, boneless, his blindfold half-off, his lashes damp with sweat.
“Mm,” you murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Think you got any paperwork done?”
He let out a weak laugh, words muffled against your chest. “Best… work session… ever.”
You smiled, shifting him so you were both comfortable in the chair, still wrapped around each other. “Next time, maybe you’ll actually finish a form.”
“Next time,” he mumbled, already half-asleep in your arms, “I’m filling out your name on all of them.”
At the same damn time! [ James Potter x Reader x Sirius Black]
rating: 18+. mdni.
content: oral (f), oral (m), p in v, anal, dom!sirius, switch!james, switch!reader, threesome, overstim, friends w benefits
note: oh wow this was filthy
The three of you had fallen into the same rhythm long ago: James lounging back on his bed with a lazy grin, Sirius sprawled sideways in the chair like he owned it, and you tucked cross-legged between them, trading stories and laughter. Their room always smelled faintly of smoke, leather, and boyish cologne—the kind of mix that clung to your skin when you stayed too long.
Sirius was mid-story, gesturing with a bottle in hand, sharp grin flashing.
“—And then he swore he could hex the lock open, but ended up blasting the entire bloody door off its hinges. You should’ve seen his face, Prongs.”
James threw his head back and laughed, hair falling into his eyes. “Bet he shat himself. Absolute twat.”
You laughed too, though your focus lingered on James a moment longer than it should have. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a lean stretch of stomach, and the easy way he sprawled back against the headboard made heat curl in your belly. You shifted slightly, hoping neither of them noticed.
Of course, Sirius noticed everything. His grey eyes cut to you, then back to James, and his grin only widened. “You’re staring, love.”
Your cheeks warmed instantly. “I am not.”
James leaned forward, eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh? Staring at me, were you?”
It was ridiculous how casual they could be about it, how they teased without shame. But the air had shifted—charged, heavy. Sirius leaned in, voice low and playful.
“Can’t blame you. He does look good, doesn’t he? Bet he tastes even better.”
James chuckled, shaking his head, though color had risen high on his cheeks. He looked at you, then at Sirius, then back again—testing, daring.
“Well then,” he said slowly, almost as if amused at himself for saying it, “maybe we should let her find out.”
The room went quiet except for the thrum of your heartbeat. Sirius raised a brow, reclining back like a king waiting to be entertained. “Go on, sweetheart. Show us how bad you want it.”
James smirked at you like he already knew your answer. His long fingers toyed absently with the hem of his shirt, waiting. You swallowed hard, then slid off the bed and onto your knees between his legs. The carpet scratched faintly under your skin, but the heat of the moment drowned it out.
James spread his thighs, lazy and inviting. “That’s it, love. Always so good for us.”
You glanced up at him, breath catching when his hand brushed over your hair—guiding, not forcing. Sirius shifted in the chair, smirking like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.
“Don’t be shy now,” Sirius drawled, swirling the bottle in his hand. “You’ve had your eyes on his cock all night. Might as well make yourself useful.”
Heat rushed through you, shame tangled deliciously with want. James unbuttoned his jeans with an easy flick, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free—thick, flushed, already half-hard from the teasing.
You licked your lips. James caught it, chuckling low in his chest. “Merlin, you’re eager. Go on, then.”
You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth, warm weight filling your tongue as you slid down slowly. James groaned, hand threading into your hair as he tipped his head back against the wall.
Sirius laughed under his breath, eyes glittering. “Look at you, Prongs. All red in the face already, and she’s barely started.”
James let out a shaky breath, trying and failing to sound casual. “Yeah, well—” His words broke off into a grunt as you sank deeper, hollowing your cheeks. “—She’s bloody good at it, isn’t she?”
You glanced up through your lashes, and the sight made James’ hips twitch. He tried to reply to something Sirius said, but every shift of your mouth, every swirl of your tongue, dragged another curse out of him.
“Not going to last long with that mouth,” Sirius teased, lounging back. “Bet she could make you beg in under five minutes.”
James’ laugh came ragged now, cut off by another groan as you sucked harder. His hand tightened in your hair, guiding your rhythm, and he looked down at you with glassy eyes. “Fuck, sweetheart… you hear him? He’s jealous.”
“Jealous?” Sirius grinned lazily. “Hardly. Just waiting my turn.”
Your lips stretched around him, the heavy heat of James’ cock filling your mouth as you slid down slowly. The taste of him coated your tongue—salty, warm, intoxicating. His thighs tensed under your hands, and when you swallowed around him, his head hit the wall with a dull thud.
“Fuck—” James hissed, chest heaving. His fingers tangled deeper in your hair, not pushing, just keeping you close. “You’re too good at this.”
You hummed around him, the vibration making him curse again. His cock twitched against your tongue, precome slicking your lips as you pulled back to lick a long stripe up his shaft before sinking down again.
From the chair, Sirius whistled low. “Listen to him—already falling apart. You’d think he’d never had his dick sucked before.”
James shot him a glare through heavy-lidded eyes. “Shut it, Pads.” His words faltered when you bobbed faster, cheeks hollowing, saliva slipping down your chin. “Bloody hell—she’s… Merlin—”
Sirius’ grin widened. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching the way your head moved in James’ lap like it was the only show that mattered. “Careful, love. Keep going like that and he’ll be spilling down your throat before I get a taste.”
Your cheeks burned hotter, but you didn’t stop—you wanted James trembling. You wanted Sirius watching. So you wrapped your hand around the base of James’ cock, stroking what your mouth couldn’t take, while your tongue traced circles under the head.
James bucked helplessly, a strangled laugh escaping him. “She’s trying to kill me, Pads—fuck—look at her.”
“I am looking.” Sirius’ voice had dropped lower now, darker. “Look at those pretty lips stretched around you. She’s perfect like this, isn’t she?”
James’ hand flexed in your hair, tugging just enough to make you whimper. His gaze dropped to your wet, swollen mouth working over him. “Yeah,” he groaned, “she’s perfect.”
Sirius shifted in his chair, and when you glanced sideways, you caught the unmistakable outline straining in his trousers. His grin was wolfish.
James gave a breathless laugh, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as his eyes flicked to Sirius. “Told you you’d get jealous.”
Sirius stood at last, lazy like a predator who’d been patient too long. He set his bottle down with a clink and crossed the room, boots heavy against the floorboards.
“Shift up,” he murmured to James, though his eyes were on you.
James, dazed with pleasure, obeyed—leaning back against the headboard, legs spread wider to give Sirius room. You pulled off James’ cock with a wet pop, lips swollen, chin slick. Before you could catch your breath, Sirius crouched in front of you, thumb sweeping across your lower lip to smear the shine.
“Messy little thing,” he said with a grin. “You like it, don’t you? On your knees, mouth full of cock, both of us watching.”
Heat rushed through you, but you didn’t answer—just parted your lips, tongue darting to chase his thumb. Sirius chuckled, dark and approving.
James groaned above you, fisting the sheets. “Pads, stop teasing. She’s driving me mad.”
“Oh, I’m not the one teasing,” Sirius replied smoothly. Then his hands caught your waist, strong and unyielding, and he hauled you up onto the bed.
You landed on your back across the sheets, breathless, as Sirius sprawled down beside you, clothes taken off. His lips brushed your ear, voice low and deliberate. “Here’s how we’re going to play this: I want you on my face, sweetheart. James on my cock. Both of you giving me something to feel.”
The words alone made you ache. James’ eyes went wide, his chest heaving. “You—you want me—”
Sirius laughed and smacked his thigh. “Yeah, Prongs. Don’t act shy now. You’ve been eyeing me up for years.” His grin softened into something filthier. “And I’ve been waiting to fuck you.”
The tension snapped like a whip. James stared for a beat too long, then dragged a hand down his face and muttered, “Fuck it.”
He moved fast, shoving his jeans the rest of the way off and climbing over Sirius with a mixture of nerves and hunger. Sirius lay back, cock already hard against his stomach, watching James with a smug little smirk.
“Good boy,” Sirius teased, voice vibrating with satisfaction. Then his hand slid up to beckon you closer. “And you, darling—up here. Sit that pretty cunt on my mouth.”
Your pulse thundered. James’ cock gleamed with spit, his body tense above Sirius, and you knew exactly what Sirius wanted: both of you tangled, grinding, desperate, with him caught in the middle.
And God, you wanted it too.
James froze above Sirius, straddling his thighs but not lowering down yet. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, fingers twitching like he didn’t know where to put them. His cock was flushed and dripping, so obviously aching, but his face was caught between disbelief and arousal. “Merlin’s sake, Pads, are you sure about this?”
Sirius tilted his head back against the pillow, hair spilling wild around him. He looked like sin incarnate, stretched out and waiting, grin lazy and wicked. “Look at me, Prongs. Do I look unsure?”
James’ gaze flicked down, taking in the hard length pressed against Sirius’ stomach, the way he lounged like a man utterly in control. James swallowed hard. “Bloody hell…”
“Relax.” Sirius reached up, brushing his hand along James’ thigh, the touch casual but electric. “You’ve trusted me with everything else. Trust me with this too.”
You knelt nearby, watching the push and pull between them, your own skin prickling with want. James glanced at you, and your breath caught at the raw uncertainty in his eyes.
“You really want this?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yeah,” you whispered, throat dry. “More than anything.”
That seemed to tip him. James let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his messy hair before bracing himself over Sirius again. “You’re a fucking menace, Padfoot.”
Sirius smirked, eyes glinting. “And you love me for it.”
He guided James’ hips down with a firm grip, lining him up. James gasped when the blunt head of Sirius’ cock pressed against him—his whole body shuddering, torn between tension and need.
“Easy,” Sirius murmured, stroking his thigh soothingly. “Breathe, Prongs. Take it slow. I’ve got you.”
James let out a hiss, half-frustrated, half-desperate. “Fuck…”
“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Sirius went on, his voice soft but soaked with hunger. “Easy, love.”
You bit your lip, thighs rubbing together. James’ breath came faster, his cock twitching hard in front of you as Sirius coaxed him down inch by inch. The stretch had him trembling, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of Sirius’ head.
“Good boy,” Sirius praised, voice ragged now. “That’s it, ride me slow. Feels better than you thought, doesn’t it?”
James groaned low in his chest, nodding but not trusting himself to speak. His whole body arched, caught between pain and pleasure, while Sirius’ grin turned feral.
Then Sirius looked past James—straight at you. His tone dropped, dark and commanding. “Now, darling. Get up here and let me taste you. Let him watch while you ride my face.”
Your whole body buzzed as you crawled up the bed. Sirius’ hands caught your hips, guiding you over his chest and facing James until your knees planted on either side of his shoulders. He looked up at you with that wolfish grin, lips already parted.
“Sit,” he ordered.
You lowered slowly, heart hammering, until his mouth pressed hot and eager against you. The first swipe of his tongue made your thighs tremble, and then you were sinking fully down onto him, his tongue pushed deep.
“Oh—fuck—” You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his abs for balance, body rocking helplessly against his mouth.
Before you, James let out a strangled moan. You blinked up, dizzy with sensation, and nearly lost yourself at the sight: James straddling Sirius’ hips, head tipped back, his cock hard and dripping while Sirius filled him inch by inch.
His chest heaved, muscles straining as he rode down, and Sirius groaned into your cunt at the same time, the vibration shooting straight through you.
James looked down at you then, face flushed, hair sticking damp to his forehead. His voice broke on a laugh. “Fucking hell—we’re really doing this—”
You reached forward, wrapping your hand around his cock. The slick heat of him pulsed against your palm, and his whole body shuddered.
“Don’t stop,” he gasped, eyes locked on yours. “Please—don’t stop.”
You leaned forward, lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking him deep while Sirius devoured you from below. James nearly collapsed, a guttural noise tearing from his throat as his hips jerked between your mouth and Sirius’ cock inside him.
“Christ—she’s—fuck—” His words cut off, replaced by gasps and curses. He fisted your hair tight, guiding you down his length, eyes glassy with pleasure.
Beneath it all, Sirius groaned against you, his tongue relentless, his cock buried in James. Every thrust of James’ hips pushed him deeper into both of you, the whole bed shaking with the rhythm.
“Look at us,” Sirius rasped between licks, his voice muffled against your cunt. “My two favorite people, falling apart on me.” He sucked your clit hard, making you cry out, before adding, “Ride me, Prongs. Make her choke on it while she soaks my face.”
James obeyed with a desperate sound, bouncing harder on Sirius’ cock. His moans grew louder, rougher, as he fucked himself down while you swallowed him greedily, drool slicking your chin.
The room was filled with the wet sounds of your mouth, Sirius’ tongue, the slap of James’ thighs. You were a mess together, tangled and hungry, each movement setting off the next until it felt like all three of you would break at once.
James’ rhythm grew frantic, thighs trembling as he fucked himself down on Sirius’ cock. Every drop of slick made the thrusts smoother, every bounce driving a groan out of him. His head lolled back, neck flushed red, chest gleaming with sweat.
“Fuck, Pads—” James gasped, voice wrecked. “You’re—too big—”
Sirius growled into your cunt, the sound vibrating through you. He dragged his mouth up your slit and nipped lightly at your clit, making your hips buck against his face. Then he pulled back just long enough to rasp, “You can take it, Prongs. You’re taking it so fucking well. Look at you—riding me like you were made for it.”
James’ answering moan was strangled, desperate. His grip tightened in your hair as you swallowed him down again, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. He couldn’t decide which sensation to chase—your mouth milking him or Sirius splitting him apart from below.
Drool and spit ran down your chin, dripping onto Sirius’ chest. Your eyes watered, but you stayed on him, loving the way James’ whole body shuddered when you gagged around him.
“Bloody hell,” James groaned, thrusting shallowly into your mouth, each movement desperate but shaky. “She’s—shit, Pads, she’s going to make me—”
Sirius cut him off by sucking your clit hard, tongue circling, his hands pinning your hips down to his face. You screamed around James’ cock, the vibration sending him into a frenzy.
“Good girl,” Sirius praised against your cunt, his voice muffled, drenched in filth. “Drown me, sweetheart. Fuck my mouth while he fucks himself on me.”
You rocked harder against him, smearing your slick over his sharp cheekbones as his tongue worked mercilessly. Your thighs trembled, nails scratching at James’ hips for balance.
James’ eyes dropped to you, wild and glazed. The sight of you grinding on Sirius’ face while his cock stretched your throat made his hips stutter violently. “I can’t—fuck—I’m gonna—”
“Don’t you dare pull out,” Sirius snapped, still lapping at you. His free hand smacked James’ arse sharply, making him jolt. “Give it to her. Down her throat. Make her swallow every drop.”
James cursed loud, hips slamming forward. You gagged and moaned at once, tears slipping free, and the raw sound of your devotion made him groan deep from his chest.
The three of you moved like a machine now—James bouncing helplessly, Sirius grinding into him while tonguing you open, you choking and drooling as you sucked James with everything you had. Every thrust, every lick, every swallow wound the tension tighter and tighter.
It felt dangerous, overwhelming, inevitable.
James was unraveling fast. His thighs shook where they straddled Sirius, every downward drop forcing a guttural moan from his throat. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed against your tongue, swollen and throbbing, begging for release.
But Sirius wasn’t about to let either of you finish just yet.
He tore his mouth from your cunt for a moment, lips shiny with slick, and snarled up at James. “Slow the fuck down, Prongs.”
You whimpered—actually whimpered—at the sudden loss of Sirius’ tongue beneath you. James’ hips jerked like he couldn’t help himself. “Pads, I—please, I can’t—”
“You can,” Sirius snapped, grip tightening on your thighs. James moaned helplessly, eyes fluttering. “You’re going to take it at my pace. Not yours. Mine.”
His hand slid from your hip to James’, gripping so tight his knuckles whitened. Sirius guided him, forcing a slower grind down his cock, deeper and more deliberate, until James was keening with every inch.
“Look at him,” Sirius growled, eyes flicking to you. “Fucking gorgeous like this. Can’t decide if he wants to fuck your throat raw or beg me to split him open.”
Your lips slid off James with a wet pop, saliva stringing between your mouth and his cock. You stroked him slowly, deliberately cruel, watching the way his stomach clenched. “He looks like he wants both.”
James cursed, shoving into your fist, but Sirius wrenched his hips back down with a brutal snap.
“Don’t let him off easy, sweetheart,” Sirius ordered, voice low. “Tease the fuck out of him. Make him work for it.”
So you did—kitten licks along the tip, a shallow suck, your tongue tracing just under the head while your hand gripped the base tight. James nearly sobbed, torn between grinding down on Sirius and begging you for more.
“Fuck—fuck, you’re both evil—” James gasped, sweat dripping down his temples. “I can’t—don’t stop—oh, bloody hell—”
Sirius’ lips were back on you then, tongue stabbing deep, pulling out and tracing circles around your clit. You cried out, clutching James tighter as your hips ground helplessly against Sirius’ face. His growl vibrated through you, sending shocks up your spine.
James stared down at the sight of you writhing above Sirius, your thighs trembling as he devoured you. His cock twitched violently in your hand. “She’s gonna—she’s gonna come, Pads, look at her—”
“Not yet,” Sirius rasped against your cunt. “I want her dripping all over me before I let any of us finish.” His tongue circled mercilessly, his hands clamping your thighs so hard you’d bruise.
You were shaking, pleasure boiling over but never tipping, because every time you got close, Sirius shifted his rhythm—slowing, dragging it out, making you beg.
Your voice broke. “Please—Sirius, please, I need—”
He laughed darkly, slick dripping down his chin. “That’s it, darling. Beg. The more you beg, the sweeter it’ll taste.”
James was no better, reduced to a trembling mess above him, biting his lip so hard it bled. His cock was iron-hard in your hand, veins throbbing. He tried to fuck your fist but Sirius forced him down slower, stretching him deeper until James cried out, eyes rolling back.
“Christ,” Sirius groaned. “I could keep you both on the edge all fucking night.”
And it felt true—none of you had come yet, but every nerve was lit up, strung tight, wracked with too much sensation to handle. The air smelled of sweat, spit, and sex, every breath heavy with it.
You were drowning together, and Sirius held all the strings.
Sirius’ grip on James’ hips was merciless, holding him down even as James writhed, desperate for more friction, more speed, more anything. His cock leaked freely in your fist, smearing slick down your fingers as you teased the head with feather-light licks.
“Pads,” James whined, voice cracking, “Please, let me—fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” Sirius cut him off sharply, biting at your inner thigh hard enough to make you gasp. His tongue licked over the sting immediately after, smug. “Neither of you are coming until I say so.”
You shivered, every muscle strung tight, hips jerking against his mouth. His tongue dragged slowly, lazily, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. Every time you thought he’d let you tip, he changed pace, pulling back to blow cool air across your soaked folds until you were sobbing with need.
James was no better, trembling, eyes squeezed shut. His thighs quivered where they straddled Sirius, sweat dripping down his flushed chest. He tried to chase your hand with shallow thrusts, but you slowed your movements cruelly, matching Sirius’ rhythm. Every stroke of your fist stopped just before the head, making him choke on a moan of frustration.
“Fuck, fuck, I can’t—” James babbled, his head dropping forward until his sweaty curls brushed your cheek. His voice was wrecked, ragged. “I need to come, I’m begging you, please—”
Sirius only smirked up at him from between your thighs, lips glistening, chin slick with your wetness. “Look at you,” he rasped, tongue flicking your clit just long enough to make you cry out. “Both of you—already fucked out and you haven’t even given me what I want yet.”
“What—what do you want?” You gasped, clutching at James’ biceps for balance.
He moaned, sucking your clit hard until your vision sparked, then pulled back just long enough to snap, “I want you to break. I want Prongs to break. I want to drag you both through it so many times you forget how to breathe.”
James’ cock twitched violently in your fist at those words, his whole body shuddering. He buried his face against your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin. “He’s gonna kill me,” James groaned, voice muffled. “Fuck, Pads, you’re gonna kill me.”
Sirius laughed low, dangerous, and pulled you down harder against his face, burying his tongue inside you until you screamed. At the same time, he thrust up into James with a brutal snap of his hips, forcing a strangled sob out of him.
It was too much. Too slow, too deep, too relentless. You were both teetering on the edge, writhing, begging, broken open under Sirius’ hands.
Your thighs were shaking so violently you thought they might give out, but Sirius’ grip was iron. Every flick of his tongue had your whole body jerking, and every sharp grind of his hips beneath James made the bed creak. You could hear James’ desperate little whimpers right in your ear, breath hot against your skin as he tried and failed to hold himself together.
“Pads,” he croaked, voice gone raw. “I—I can’t hold it—”
Sirius growled against your cunt, sending another shudder ripping through you. He pulled back just enough to speak, lips wet and swollen. “Both of you. Together. Don’t come until I tell you. When I say, you let go. Understand?”
You nodded frantically, tears streaking down your cheeks, while James gave a broken, “Y-yeah—” though his cock twitched violently in your hand, dripping all over your knuckles.
Sirius’ grin was wicked. “Good little pets.”
Then he stopped teasing. His tongue moved with brutal precision, sucking your clit like he meant to rip the orgasm out of you, while his hips slammed up hard into James. The sudden change tore screams from both of you—James’ moans ragged against your ear, your cries muffled against his shoulder.
“Now,” Sirius snarled, voice guttural, command vibrating through both of you. “Fucking come for me.”
The words were a detonator.
You shattered with a scream, your thighs locking around his head as wave after wave of release broke you open. His tongue never stopped, devouring everything you gave, dragging your orgasm out until you thought you’d pass out.
At the same time, James fell apart in your hand, his cock pulsing violently as he spilled hot down your wrist and Sirius’ abs. He sobbed against your neck, muffling his cries in your skin as his whole body convulsed.
Sirius groaned, hips bucking up into James, the sound nearly lost beneath both of your cries. The tight heat around his cock finally dragged him over the edge, and he spilled deep inside James with a guttural snarl, holding both of you locked against him while he shook with it.
The room spun, thick with panting breaths and the smell of sex.
You collapsed forward, forehead pressed against James’ shoulder, your body boneless. James trembled above Sirius, chest heaving, his curls damp with sweat as he clung to you.
Beneath you both, Sirius lay sprawled like a satisfied king, hair wild, lips glistening, eyes heavy-lidded but smug.
“Well,” he drawled after a long, shaky silence, his voice rough with use. “That… was bloody brilliant.”
James let out a laugh that cracked halfway through, muffled against your skin. “You’re—insufferable.”
“And yet,” Sirius smirked, giving James’ arse a lazy squeeze, “you’ll both be begging me for more tomorrow.”
You couldn’t muster a reply—James hadn’t even finished trembling when Sirius shifted under the both of you. His hands, firm on your thighs, slid down to squeeze your hips before shoving you off his face until you were pressed chest-to-chest with James. The movement forced James to stay seated on Sirius’ cock, every inch still buried deep inside him.
James whimpered, his whole body flinching. “Pads—wait—I can’t—”
“Oh, you can.” Sirius’ voice was low and dangerous, his grin all teeth. “You’re still hard. Look at you—dripping all over my stomach and twitching like you want more.”
You felt James shudder against you, caught between overstimulation and want. His cock was flushed, swollen, smeared with his own release—but Sirius wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t softened at all.
Sirius tilted his head, catching your dazed eyes. “Sweetheart. Don’t think you’re off the hook either. I want you on him—ride his cock while I fuck him open. Let’s see how much our precious Prongs can take.”
Your stomach clenched, a hot bolt of desire sparking through you even though you were still trembling from your orgasm. “Sirius—he’ll break—”
“That’s the point.” Sirius shoved his hips up sharply, making James cry out with a strangled sob. “I want him ruined.”
James clung to you desperately, face buried in your neck, but the noise he made wasn’t protest—it was wrecked, needy, desperate. His cock twitched against your stomach like it was begging.
Sirius grinned like a wolf who’d cornered his prey. “Hear that, sweetheart? He’s begging without even speaking. Come on. Sit pretty on him for me.”
Your hands shook as you reached between your bodies, guiding James to your entrance. He was slick with spit and come, sliding easily against you. James whined when the head nudged your folds, trembling like he’d come again just from that.
“Easy,” Sirius coaxed from below, though his tone dripped with dark amusement. “Let her sink down slow, Prongs. Feel every inch of her while I split you wider.”
You braced yourself on James’ shoulders and lowered. The stretch of him filling you was almost unbearable with how sensitive you still were, but the look on James’ face made it worth it—his head thrown back, lips parted, a moan torn straight from his chest as you sank down around him.
“Fuck—fuck—she’s—Merlin, Pads, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” Sirius’ hands tightened bruisingly on James’ hips, dragging him down harder onto his cock just as you bottomed out. The three of you groaned together at the sensation—James trapped between you both, cock buried in your cunt, Sirius buried in him.
You clenched around James involuntarily, and his whole body shook. “Too much,” he gasped, though his hips jerked helplessly up into you. “It’s—it’s too much—”
Sirius laughed darkly, snapping his hips up in a brutal thrust that made James choke on a scream. “Too much is exactly what you need.”
You caught James’ face in your hands, forcing him to look at you through tear-bright eyes. “Breathe, love. Just breathe.” You rolled your hips slowly, grinding on his cock while Sirius fucked him from below.
James’ moan broke, high and shattered. “Bloody hell—she’s—tight—fuck, Pads, I’m—”
Sirius smirked up at both of you, sweat dripping down his temples, eyes feral. “That’s it, Prongs. Take it like a good boy. Her cunt squeezing you, my cock wrecking you. You’re ours now.”
James’ nails dug into your back as he sobbed against your shoulder, hips moving despite himself. You could feel every brutal thrust of Sirius through him, every twitch of his cock inside you, every ragged breath against your neck.
And Sirius wasn’t letting up. He set a relentless pace, using James like a toy, forcing his body to fuck into you even when James thought he couldn’t take any more.
Your own pleasure built again shockingly fast, nerves fried but desperate, every movement setting your clit against James’ v-line. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him through the mess of it, and his answering whimper was almost broken.
“She’s—she’s squeezing me—Pads, I’m gonna—fuck, I can’t stop—”
Sirius chuckled dark and sharp, fucking up into him harder. “Don’t stop. Spill inside her while I fuck it deeper into you. Make a mess of her cunt for me.”
James screamed against your lips, and you knew neither of you would last.
James’ cry tore through the room, desperate and helpless, his cock jerking inside you as he spilled hot and thick, pulse after pulse painting your walls. His whole body convulsed between you and Sirius, but Sirius didn’t stop—not for a second.
“That’s it, Prongs,” Sirius growled, snapping his hips harder, driving himself deeper into James’ trembling body. “Come for her, and I’ll fuck every drop back into you.”
You felt it—felt James still pulsing inside you, even as he whimpered brokenly against your lips. He was gone, already past the edge, but his hips kept moving anyway, helplessly rutting into you as Sirius forced him into a brutal rhythm.
“Sirius—” you gasped, overwhelmed yourself, your cunt fluttering wildly around James. “He—he’s not stopping—”
“Good.” Sirius’ voice was feral, sweat dripping from his hairline, eyes wild as he pounded up into James with vicious precision. “He’s not allowed to stop. Not until he breaks.”
James sobbed, high and wrecked, his nails raking down your back as another orgasm tore through him too soon, his cock twitching violently inside you. His whole body shook with it, a strangled noise caught in his throat as he gave in, spilling again despite the tears streaking his flushed face.
You moaned at the feeling, at the sight of him unraveling so completely. “He’s—Merlin, he’s still coming—”
“Because he’s mine,” Sirius snarled, dragging James down harder onto his cock, fucking up so hard the bedframe rattled. “Ours. He’ll come until there’s nothing left in him.”
James’ head lolled against your shoulder, his eyes glassy and unfocused, but his body kept giving—every sharp thrust from Sirius forced another ragged sound, another twitch, another helpless spurt inside you until you were shaking on him, pushed over the edge yourself with a scream.
You clamped down around James’ cock, dragging him deeper into your orgasm, and he convulsed beneath you, completely undone. Sirius groaned at the way James tightened around him, slamming up one last brutal time before burying himself to the hilt, spilling hot into him.
For a moment, the only sound was the wet slap of skin, the ragged chorus of moans and cries, and then the collapse—James finally going boneless, trembling violently, his body utterly spent.
He sagged into you, barely conscious, his breaths shallow little gasps against your skin. Sirius held him in place with a possessive grip, chest heaving, a wolfish grin still plastered across his face.
“Look at him,” Sirius panted, eyes glittering as he stroked his hands down James’ sweat-slick sides. “Ruined. Beautiful. Could fuck him for days like this.”
James let out the faintest whimper, incoherent, and his lashes fluttered as if he couldn’t even hold his eyes open.
You brushed damp curls from his forehead, kissing his temple softly even as your own body shook. “He’s done, Pads,” you whispered, voice gentle where Sirius’ was cruel. “You’ve broken him.”
Sirius only smirked, leaning up to nip at your throat. “Exactly what I wanted.”
