plzz write more ab car sex w adrien. i enjoyed it tooooo much 🙃
unexpected heatwaves
pairings: adrian chase x fem!reader
warnings: unprotected p in v, spitplay (if you squint, i think), grinding
wc: 1.8k
notes: minors & ageless blogs dni. ALSO, MY FIRST ANON WHO ELSE CHEERED !! no but seriously, your wish is my command nonnie !! i was gonna make it a drabble but i got a bit carried away. hope its to your liking!!
it’s so unfortunate that a state so close to canada can get heatwaves. it’s usually no problem for you and adrian since your apartment has ac, but for the past week, your landlord’s been lagging behind on getting your ac fixed. which means one thing during this heatwave – adrian and you haven’t been able to get within five feet each other before feeling too sweaty and overwhelmed. hence, why the two of you have been hanging out in his car more often.
“why are we in the parking lot of a … henelotter video?” you ask, leaning down to read the name of the run-down building in front of you before looking over at your boyfriend with a confused expression. “i swear to god, adrian, i’m not going ghost hunting with you again. that shit was so not real.”
“first of all, that shit was so real.” he huffs, putting the car in park before turning to look at you. “and second of all, this is my solution.”
“solution to wh–” your brow furrows in confusion before adrian raises his eyebrows at you in a knowing way with a grin on his face. “i am not fucking you in this car. nuh-uh.” you shake your head.
“come ooooon, babe.” he whines. “i made sure it was a private parking lot and – and it’s owned by my friend, i think, so it’s not against the law. and there’s air conditioning.”
your ideals are made of jelly when it comes to adrian, especially when he’s looking at you like that. because it only takes five minutes for him to convince you to get in the backseat with him.
“fuck, i’m so hard i think my dick is gonna break my zipper.” he tells you from where he hovers above you where you lay in the backseat, hand cradling the nape of your neck. he leans back down to plant his lips on yours, his fingers carding through your hair.
he situates you so your legs are sandwiched together – his thigh between your legs and with the way your leg is propped up, he’s rubbing his dick against the inside of your thigh. he removes his lips from yours with a string of spit connecting the two of you, moving down to your jaw to mouth at it.
“fuck, adrian –” you pant, taken off guard at how quickly he’s moving but definitely not opposed to his ministrations. he whines at your voice while his hands move to crawl under your shirt and paw at your tits. he thanks god you decided to forgo a bra today.
“d’you think it’s against the law for your landlord to take so long with the ac?” he comments, peppering kisses before he moves down to suck at your neck. “tenant rights, maybe?” he bites at the spot blooming purple before pulling back to look at you. “i’ll kill him if it’s against the law.” he nods, meeting your eyes with a serious expression.
you snort before snaking your own hand down to unbutton his pants, not knowing how truthful his words could end up being. “okay, ade, let’s not get too carried away.” you pull down the zipper of his jeans and stick your hand in his pants to palm at his dick through his boxers.
you freeze when he downright whimpers, brows furrowing tight as he bucks into your hand. his eyes meet yours, freezing as well.
“that wasn’t me.”
“i need your dick in me right now.”
you both speak at the same time before just spending a moment staring at each.
“i was gonna eat you out.” adrian whines, pouting at your words.
“fuck, okay, next time.” you wave your hand absentmindedly. “i just really need you to fuck me, adrian.”
“cool, yeah, i can do that.” he nods, already working on your own jeans. “just … for sure next time?” adrian asks as you lift your hips and he pulls your jeans down and tosses them on the floor. he meets your gaze, searching your face for an answer.
“yes, adrian.” you groan with a playful eyeroll, tugging his own jeans down. “i promise.”
“fuck yeah.” he grins, shuffling out of his own jeans and shirt before pressing his clothed boner against the wet patch on your underwear.
“don’t tease.” you huff, feeling your patience wear thin.
“but if i see your pussy all nice and wet, i’m gonna want to eat you out.” adrian tells you and you’re unsure if he’s being serious or just completely lost in how good grinding against you feels.
“eat me out after, i don’t care! just, c’mon –” you pull down his tightie whities to reveal his cock beading with precum.
he smiles at your answer, finally satisfied. he pulls your panties to the side and groans out, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “yeah, i was right. you’re so wet.” with his other hand, he swipes his pointer finger to coat it in your wetness causing you to whine and buck your hips up before he puts it in his mouth.
“fuckkkk, i can’t wait.” he groans, before getting his finger wet again. “here, you’ll see what i mean.” before you can even process what he’s doing, his finger is in your mouth.
“adri –!” you try to protest, but your words die in the back of your mouth when he quickly sinks into you. he unsandwiches your legs, bracketing yours around his hips.
you hum against his finger in your mouth before he’s quickly removing them to grab a hold of your hips. he tilts them up higher so that your legs wrap around his hips better to make the tip of his dick hit even deeper than before – you swear to god you see stars.
you moan out, your head rolling back against the seat of his sebring before he’s pulling out completely and stuffing you full over and over again at an agonizing pace to help you adjust to his size.
“climate change is stupid.” adrian huffs, a scowl on his face and you can practically see the cogs in his head turning at the thought. “can’t believe it’s so hot i have to fuck my girlfriend in my car.”
you try to make out a response, but it’s too difficult when every time he fucks back into you, he’s hitting that spot that makes you curl your toes. “y-yeah?” you hum out, uncomfortably craning your head up to glance at where your bodies meet.
your wetness coats his dick, making it shiny in the soft glow from the streetlights outside. he’s grinding into you so deep you can even see the base of his pelvis glint with some of your slick.
“pfft, yeah, and not to mention all those dumb billionaires profiting off it.” he continues, eyes still trained on your face. he follows your gaze, looking down momentarily then back up at you. “i mean, seriously, they’re depriving me of the best pussy on earth.”
you try to swat at his arm with a pout. “adrian.” despite the fact he’s making you feel fucking amazing, you can’t help but want more.
“sorry – i’m on it, babe.” adrian smiles at you and he moves to flip you over. his hand is warm on your hip where he holds on as his other hand pushes your shirt up so he can play with your tits.
your back arches like you’re in searing pain when he starts to speed up. the sound of the air conditioning blowing from his vents is drowned out by the squelching of your pussy as he jackhammers into you.
“seriously, though, think about the turtles.” you hear him from behind you. he leans forward to press your front half down into the backseat so his front is pressed against your back. his dick is so deep in you that you seriously wonder how you went so long without fucking. “they eat plastic bags ‘cause they’ve got shit eyesight and think its a jellyfish.”
the hand once groping your tits migrates south to press down on your tummy, heavy against where the tip of his dick kisses your cervix. you rest your weight on your forearms. the change in positon makes you moan out a garbled version of his name, grabbing onto his bicep as if it’ll help keep you grounded on earth. “i mean, i’ve got shit eyesight – could you imagine if that was me?” he tilts his head to gauge your reaction, watching your eyes roll back each time his balls momentarily slap against your clit when he bottoms out.
you’re embarrassingly close at this point. but when you’ve gone – what, a week? – so long without getting dicked down to suddenly getting the best sex of your life, you find it hard to place blame on yourself.
“poor fish.” you attempt, a bit of drool pooling in the corner of your mouth.
“reptiles, babe.” he corrects. he tilts your head to the side while his other is still using your hip as leverage to keep pounding into you. with the very hand that tilted your head towards him, he dips his fingers in your mouth to get his digits soaked. “you’re squeezing me like crazy – do you like having my fingers in my mouth?” he quirks an eyebrow while he watches you pathetically lave at his middle and ring fingers.
“shit, if being deprived of sex made you this stupid horny, i’ll go for weeks.” he laughs in your face. “kidding, i’d probably go crazy. like that guy from the shining.”
“tha’s not wha’happened –” you attempt before adrian’s thick fingers make their way to your clit, making your forearms wobble and give out underneath yourself.
“sure it is.” you can’t see him, but you’re 99% sure he’s making a face at your accusation. “i think – i was too busy looking at your boobs when we watched it.”
you let out a sob with your cheek against the material of his backseat, feeling that familiar sensation of release flood your body. it feels like all your nerves are on fire as you gush around him.
“i’m so asking your landlord to fix your ac ‘cause i think i’m about to cum so hard i black out.” he tells you, rutting against your messy pussy. “can i – shit – can i cum in you?” adrian pants, his hands grabbing the fat of your legs where your thighs and hips meet.
you make a small gurgled noise and nod from underneath him, still trying to gather your bearings and come down from your own high. he pulls out completely before plunging back into you, almost knocking you forward into the car door before pushing himself to the hilt and painting your gummy walls white.
he pants from on top of you before flipping you over again. there’s a grin on his face when you meet his gaze. “can i eat you out now?”
“babe –” you attempt.
“c’mon, so i can clean you up before we get cum stains on the seats.”
you roll your eyes with a lazy smile before nodding. his smile grows tenfold before he kneels down and throws both your legs over his shoulders.
maybe it’s not so bad that there was a heatwave after all.
guys i just wanna sit in adrian’s lap whilst he yaps about his nerdy interests and im grinding against him and eventually he loses his patience and fucks me :(
a/n: this is purely self indulgent. i just wanted to make james fold for a goth girl (me). if you don’t listen to angel while you read this you’re missing out
warnings: smut MDNI, everyone is 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, overstimulation, completely sub!james, severe dacryphillia, choking, mentions of violence, no sh mentions but allusions via the dark mark, terrible latin
“i have to go.” you insisted, tearing yourself out of james’ grasp. he didn’t want you to leave, not when you looked like that, and especially not when he knew you’d be coming home to him with a dark mark on your arm. “sirius is waiting downstairs.”
you noticed james was hesitant to let you go. you pressed your lips together, blending your black lipstick a little more, before standing up straight.
“i can handle myself.” you said as you stood up straight, although you were trying to convince yourself more than anything.
“i know.” james mumbled, his hand falling from your face, but his other hand remained on your waist still. “just- be careful. we’ll be close by if anything goes wrong, just say the word, but- be careful anyway.”
you forced yourself to tread carefully down the stairs so that you didn’t trip on your nerves and stack it. you inhaled deeply, shivering as you tried to shake off any last remnants of your usual self, and as you exhaled, a blank look settled over your face.
“well, that’s terrifying.” remus remarked, but you didn’t look at him. you were still getting in the zone. remus noted your lack of a response, and he nodded, taking your silence as an opportunity to explain. “we’ll be close by. one apparition away. we can hear everything, as long as your wands are out, so you say the word and we’ll be there in three seconds flat.”
sirius offered you his arm, and you took it, wrapping your fingers around his bicep as he led you into the fireplace. because sirius couldn’t ever shake his need to do or say something mischievous, even in a situation as grave as this one, he winked at james, and told him “got your girl.”
“be safe,” james replied, a look of concern etched onto his face behind the soft smile he was giving you to ease your nerves. “love you both.”
you nodded, and even though you were in the zone, you couldn’t resist throwing james a wink, as well.
“love you.” you told him, then sirius threw the floo powder down. green flames licked up your legs, and into the cloud of dust, you disappeared.
pretending to be in love with sirius came more naturally than you had initially expected. that was your cover- sirius returning to his family to execute his birthright, and you alongside him, together so you could sire as pure an heir as possible without some good old black family inbreeding.
you knew there was a spy in the order. this was your way of finding out who.
“cousin.” came a voice addressing sirius as soon as you stepped out of the fireplace and malfoy manor, and you had to look up, because that could have been anyone.
“cissa.” sirius sighed, and you could tell that he felt guilty already. if he was going to lie to anyone, he didn’t want it to have to be narcissa, but he was in her house, now.
narcissa’s eyes landed on you, and it was obvious to you that she thought you looked the part. her gaze raked over your figure once, up and down, then again, down and up.
“you’ve ditched the potter boy.” narcissa remarked, and you had to take as subtle of a deep breath as you could. your jaw clenched as she surveyed you, and you felt sirius wrap an arm around your waist to sell the story.
“we wanted different things.” you lied, and it killed you to do it, especially because you knew james was listening in from close by in case the mission went sour. you could tell your words weren’t quite selling it, so you sighed, and continued. “it’s a thing of the past. a phase. i’ve moved on.”
as you spoke, you glanced up at sirius and flashed him a dutiful smile, which he returned, along with a twinkle in his eye that meant you’re doing well.
“hopefully now we see eye to eye.” sirius turned back to his cousin as he addressed her. narcissa narrowed her eyes, and for a moment it looked as if she didn’t believe you, and your stomach dropped.
“wait until you’ve taken the mark before we come to that conclusion.” she preened, turning on her heels and walking off to sit down.
as soon as she was gone, you sighed with relief, and sirius dropped his smile. you were cautious of the fact that you were not to blow your cover at any point during the evening, though, so you squared your shoulders and let sirius lead you through to the dining room.
you stood still for a moment, and as soon as you stopped walking, you felt something cold and smooth wrapping itself around your ankles. you looked down to see a long, black, snake, and it made you feel sick to your stomach. the sound of it slithering, combined with the feeling of it twisting, tightening around your ankles, sent a wave of nausea coursing right through you.
that was the last time you were aware of your surroundings until someone was dragging you up out of your seat by one arm, pulling you to standing. you caught a glimpse of lucius malfoy’s long blonde hair, and you had to fight not to roll your eyes.
someone else addressed lucius from the other end of the table, and when you looked up to see who it was, you almost choked. voldemort was looking right at you, his black hair pushed smoothly out of his white face. he looked human, but not completely, as if there were something off about him- his skin a little too pale, his eyes ever so slightly too dark, and reptilian.
lucius nodded at the order he was given, and he rolled up the long sleeve on your arm, holding your limp hand still.
“fides in tenebris et in eius imperio.” he told you, prompting you to repeat his words. you didn’t speak latin. sirius did.
you shot sirius a look, and he nodded slowly, reassuring you. you were grateful to have him there. he was a reminder that there was some good in the world, at the very least.
“fides in tenebris et in eius imperio.”
lucius gripped your arm, and raised his wand, hovering it just millimetres above your skin.
“ex hoc tempore usque ad mortem.” he finished the motto, refusing to put you out of your misery and tap his wand to your skin until you had repeated him.
you took a shaky breath in, and then let it out slowly. you could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on you, so you knew that if you didn’t do this, didn’t swear allegiance to voldemort, you’d blow your cover before it had even began.
“ex hoc tempore usque ad mortem.”
it took a second for the pain to kick in, but when it did, it was nothing like anything you’d ever experienced. you clenched your jaw, and tears stung your eyes, so you had to blink them back. you watched the black ink spread across your skin and take the form of the mark, and as you saw it sinking in to your flesh, you felt a little part of you shrivel up and die.
“very good.” came that sickening hiss of a voice again from the head of the table, and you just nodded, muttering a hasty thank you, my lord, and throwing yourself back into your seat.
it was sirius’ turn next, and he stomached it a lot better than you, although you could see him wincing. you reassured him with your eyes, a subtle reminder that remus and james were waiting just outside, and that soon you’d be returning home to them. this wasn’t forever. just for now.
you sat in silence through the rest of the meeting, sirius’ hand in yours, and tried to come to grips with your feelings of guilt at what you’d just done. it was harder than you’d anticipated to remind yourself that you’d done it for the order, for the side of good, especially when you could feel that fucking snake slithering around your feet.
you zoned out until sirius was urging you to stand, reassuring you that it was time to go home.
the safest option was to travel back to your family home by floo powder, in case you were followed, so that was what you did. as soon as you were back in your own dining room, you sighed, and the feelings of guilt washed over you like a tidal wave.
you squared your shoulders as you stepped out of the fireplace, your cloak hood still over your head, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. when you did, your eyes landed on james.
you wanted to speak, to say something, but you had no idea what to say. it was sirius who spoke first, as he came up behind you.
“you did well, love.” he told you.
all you could do was nod.
that was what upset james. he walked slowly towards you, and for a moment, he just stood in front of you, trying to find his words. he slowly reached up, his fingers almost hesitating to touch your skin because he couldn’t bear to look at it. he lifted your arm up, and let the dark mark catch the light.
you looked down at it for the first time, and it filled you with an incomprehensible sense of dread.
“merlin..” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“it’s for the order.” james told you, taking his face in your hands. “you did a good thing, darling.”
remus hummed in agreement, stepping up behind sirius. “you’re both very brave.” he said softly. “i say you get some rest.”
“please.” sirius sighed. “i want to go home.”
you nodded slowly, not reacting when sirius pressed a kiss into your hair, or when remus ran a hand over your back. they both wished you a soft goodbye, then took a step back, and apparated out of the room with a quiet pop. that was the last sound in the room, and it announced a deep, thick silence.
you said nothing to begin with, just stood still. you were still dressed like a death eater- black dress, black makeup, sporting a new black tattoo to match.
“i swore allegiance to voldemort,” you began quietly, eyes filling with tears that you blinked away. “i lied about my loyalty, and i lied about my life. the hardest words to say of them all were that i don’t love you.”
james didn’t have a response to that, because he didn’t want to ever consider the possibility that you didn’t love him, since it simply wasn’t true. it was also his worst nightmare. instead of letting himself spiral down that rabbit hole, he just sighed, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your painted black lips.
“how can you kiss me? i look like a murderer.” you asked dejectedly, shrugging your cloak off and draping it over one of the chairs at the table.
“you look like an angel.”
that stunned you. your dark eyes flicked up to meet james’ and you furrowed your brows. it hadn’t occurred to you that james would be a fan of the death eater look, but here he was, staring down at you through his glasses, and his pupils were like saucers.
you wondered as you looked up at james how far he’d let you take it.
“kiss me again.” you breathed, more of a command than a request, and james obliged happily, threading his fingers into your hair as he captured your lips with his, uncaring of the fact that you were spreading black lipstick everywhere as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“james-” you began. you didn’t know what was going to come next. maybe you were going to ask james politely if you could fuck him like your life depended on it. maybe you were going to force him to his knees. you didn’t need to do anything, though, because when you huffed out his name, james huffed right back.
“please-” he whined, and that was all the confirmation you needed.
you pulled back, standing up straight. your heels were making your feet ache, but they were keeping you in this new frame of mind, playing into this weirdly dark persona, almost as if you were harbouring a secret, twisted side of you that was just now coming out to play.
you could tell as you scanned james’ gaze with your smoky eyes that he was expecting something. expecting you to snap, maybe, or to give him a command. you couldn’t just stand there staring at him all night, as much as you wanted to, so eventually, once you had taken james’ face tightly in your hand, you spoke.
“look at it.” you spat, forcing his gaze down to the mark on your arm, the skin around it red raw, like sunburn, a purple bruise already forming where lucius malfoy had forced the tip of his wand up against your flesh.
james’ eyes lingered on the mark for a moment before looking back up at you through his glasses. his eyes flashed with a look of concern, but it was mixed with something else, a strange fascination over the ink clinging to the flesh of your arm.
it was strange for james to be attracted to something like that, something so stupidly dark, and it made you look like a slytherin, there was no denying that- the dress, and the lipstick, it was really all rather gothic for james.
the strange thing about it was, he loved it. he lost himself staring at the mark on your arm, silently wishing to himself that you’d boss him around a bit.
“do you trust me?” you asked, using your grip on james’ face to shift his gaze back towards you.
“yes.” he answered quickly. far too quickly to even be debated whether or not it was dignified. it was simply not.
you nodded slowly, taking in the answer as if you had expected it to be any different. you realised then, as you stood in the dining room, not even three paces out of the fireplace, that both you and james were subtly getting off on this side of you.
james was practically glued to you, and it was as if he was trying to draw some comfort from your body. it was all he could do not to reach out and grab you, because he knew you’d tell him off for that, so instead he gazed down at you through his glasses, blinking rapidly.
“please..”
“go.” you said, letting go of james’ face with a little shove, urging him in the direction of the living room.
james nodded slowly, his expression serious, but his gaze never left your face. he wasn’t going to look away, and he took a few slow steps backwards, until he was stood at the doorway to the next room.
you walked forwards as james walked backwards, slowly, but surely, your heels clacking on the stone floor, and that felt good.
“i’m gonna sit you down,” you began as you walked. “and i’m gonna ride you until you’re begging me to stop. okay?”
james’ lips quirked at the corners, and he wanted so badly to break out into a smirk, because that was singlehandedly the best news he’d ever been given. he knew, however, that you in your new state probably wouldn’t take kindly to being smirked at, so he just nodded.
“beg.” you told him, watching as he sat down on the sofa, slouching back against it, and because it was james, he couldn’t help but manspread just a little. it was also an attempt to shift the raging hard on in his jeans, because looking at you walking towards him, just to stand over him like that? it was making so much blood rush to his dick that it was almost painful.
“please..”
“again.”
“please.” james urged you desperately, involuntarily brushing the palm of his hand over his jeans, just to create any little bit of friction, just to ease some of the tension. “please, love, please, you look so pretty, need you.”
you ran your tongue along your top row of teeth as you watched james staring up at you from the sofa. he looked a fucking sight- your black lipstick smudged across his mouth, pupils blown, slouched against the sofa cushions, gazing up at you as if you hung the moon and practically fucking his hand through his jeans.
you reached up to tug at the string that was holding your dress together, and the sleeves went loose around your shoulders before you dropped it to the floor. when it pooled around your ankles you shivered, because it reminded you of that fucking snake. slithering at your feet. wrapping itself around your shoes, as if to say you’re here now, for good.
that was how it felt. your eyes flicked down to the stinging skin of your forearm, and your jaw ticked. you weren’t evil. you weren’t a bad person. you just happened to have a big black mark on your forearm that told the world otherwise.
“angel..” came james’ voice from beneath you as you stepped out of your dress, crossing the hardwood floor in your heels and your underwear. it wasn’t so much him calling you by a name as it was a declaration of how simply gorgeous you looked in that moment.
you twisted your forearm to face upwards, showing james the burning flesh, the raised skin around the tattoo.
“this is not me,” you began. james nodded in response, because he knew that, but you continued. “this is not who i am.”
“i know.” he said softly, nodding again slowly as he leaned slightly forward. his arms snaked around the cold skin of your waist, and his chin rested against your stomach so he could stare longingly up at you through his glasses. those fucking glasses.
“regardless of that fact, james, and the fact that i love you very much, i’m going to fuck you like i hate your guts.”
james’ eyes fluttered closed briefly at your words, but then he forced them open, because he didn’t want to miss a second of you. you sent a shiver down james’ spine, and it was as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. it was in that moment that every atom of his being had become more in love with you than it had ever been before.
you shoved at his left shoulder gently, sending him back against the sofa, before reaching up behind you to unclip your bra, catching it as it fell off of your shoulders, then dropping it on the sofa. james lifted his hips up to slide his jeans and boxers off over his legs, his lips parting at the sight of your bare skin, as if he’d never seen it before.
there was no doubt in james’ mind that he was looking at his most prized possession, and he was obsessed with you. love was the word most of the time, but this, when you were stood over him, leant slightly forward so you could slide your underwear down your bare thighs and off of your ankles, over your heels, james felt like it was something different.
he wanted to reach out, he wanted to touch you, he wanted to kiss and taste, but he didn't. james was obedient- he'd do what you told him, and not one thing more. he stared up at you through his glasses as you straddled his lap, his gaze flicking to the mark on your arm every now and then.
you hissed as you sunk your aching body onto james’, sliding as deeply as you could onto him, and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, because as much as it was you quelling your need to feel james inside you, it was also the solidification of your newly-formed, madness-driven, complete and utter control. you had him now.
“oh, fuck..” james moaned loudly, permeating the tense silence with an exclamation of pure ecstasy, and he had to tell himself not to cum just at the sight of you.
you gritted your teeth, sitting up on your knees to lift yourself up on james’ cock, before sitting slowly back down on it, burying it so fully into you that you could feel it brushing the right spot already.
“oh-” you gasped quickly.
“fuck- please!” james’ grip on your hips tightened, and his body immediately tensed. it took everything james had not to meet you with a thrust, because he knew you were in control, and he had to be good, and he could be that. he was going to be that if it was the last thing he ever did.
it took you a moment to get your own composure, to debate whether you should abandon it now and go back to normal, but something in your head was telling you that you were too far gone.
“again.”
“please, please.” james continued without hesitation, his voice breaking as he huffed out desperate begs for something, he didn’t even really know what, as he dropped his head against the sofa, eyes flicking down to your arm again. “please- fuck, please, please.”
that turned you on more than anything had ever turned you on your life. you felt yourself get even wetter, felt it underneath your hips, all over james. it was hot, almost painful, and you let out a breathy groan.
james’ heart was beating so hard he thought that it might rip his chest open. he could feel how desperately wet you were against him, and it was the most maddening, incredible and excruciating moment of intense self control he’d ever had to endure.
“angel, angel, please,” he tried again, his voice coming out barely as a whimper between jagged huffs of breath.
he tugged at your hips and rocked his hips against yours at the same time, desperately trying to get deeper inside you, if it were at all possible, and when you rolled your hips against his, sliding slightly off of his cock and then slamming yourself back down onto it, james felt tears sting his eyes.
you had your eyes squeezed shut at first, trying to steady your own breathing and remind yourself it wasn’t your turn to be a mess, this time. when you blinked a few times and your gaze landed on james’ face, wet with tears, the fight to stay upright and not fall apart then and there became twice as hard.
“are you crying?” you asked incredulously, the words coming out as a breathy huff.
you grabbed james’ jaw with your free hand and pulling him further towards you, wanting a better look at the tears staining his cheeks. you could feel his breath on your face, he was so close to you, and your eyes fixed on the pretty little tears, watching james blink a few times to let them out.
“yeah-” james whimpered, unable to hold it back if he had even wanted to. he had no shame in it, though, because he was so obsessed with you right now, and the pain that he was feeling was because he needed you so badly. it was because he loved you, and in that very moment it truly felt like you were ripping his heart out of his chest, and he’d let you do it to again. over, and over again. as many times as you wanted. because it was you. “yes, angel, just please- i need you- i love you-”
“you love me?”
“oh fuck, yes-” he gasped, and his eyes were wide and pleading as he looked up at you. “i love you so much, i love you, always, angel, i love you, i love you.”
you couldn’t help the moan that slipped from your lips at that, as you drove your hips forward, and you were bouncing on james’ cock now, lifting off of him and driving your hips back down, slowly, but roughly. your vision almost clouded over when you leaned back and felt james’ tip brushing against your cervix, because it hurt, but the type of hurt that was only bringing you closer.
that, combined with the fact that james was underneath you, chest heaving, crying because he loved you so much, would have been enough to make you cum alone, but what really helped was the fact that every few seconds, james’ gaze flicked from your face down to your arm, as if he was checking that the tattoo was still there, that you were still the one in control.
you leaned forwards to gently kiss the tears from james’ face, peppering little pecks across his pretty wet cheeks.
“fuck,” you sighed contentedly, in between the chaste kisses. “oh, fuck, that’s it.”
“angel, angel, angel, i’m gonna-” james huffed, trying his hardest to hold back from the edge until you told him it was okay, that you wanted it in you. he wanted to put it in you. he wanted to make you his forever. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-”
“yeah?”
“yes! fuck! i’m gonna-” james repeated frantically, his voice taking on a high-pitched whine, a broken sound, as he felt your nails digging into the skin of his back. “i’m gonna cum, angel, please, let me- i need to- i need-”
you felt yourself getting closer to your own edge, but it wasn’t quite enough for you just yet. you looked down at james, who was looking right back up at you, begging you to let him cum, tears stinging his eyes again. you nodded permissively, because he looked so good, and he had been good, and you wanted to feel him coming apart underneath you.
james let out a noisy, whining moan, one that filled the whole house, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he came deep inside you, burying his head into your shoulder and huffing out ragged breaths against your bare skin as he felt himself unravelling.
it sounded like he was sobbing as he came, and you laughed softly, because he didn’t know the half of it just yet.
“can you cum again for me? yeah?”
he nodded desperately and quickly, his own eyes almost wild, and he was holding onto you tighter than he’d ever held anything before.
”yes, yes, please, anything, anything for you, angel-.” james pleaded. “i’ll do anything- fuck! fuck!”
the feeling of you grinding yourself against him after he’d just came made james’ hips stutter upwards, and his jaw dropped. it hurt, but it hurt so good. he gasped out a few low moans, eyes pressed shut at the painful pleasure of you not slowing your pace around his achingly sensitive cock.
“oh, fuck.” you hissed when james snapped his hips up into you.
james just swallowed deeply, and hummed lowly against your skin, pressing a long kiss to your shoulder before he pulled away. he looked like a mess, hair in his eyes, tears staining his cheeks, breaths heavy. “please, angel - just-”
you took james' face in one hand, fingers splaying out across his cheeks as you grabbed him by the jaw, and he whined, lips squishing together into a pretty little pout. you felt the tears spill over onto your fingers and you shivered when a stray bead of watery desperation escaped and slipped all the way down your wrist.
you gave him a command, touch me, and of course, james obliged, nodding as best he could in your grip and pulling you closer with one hand, the other reaching down to press his fingers softly against your clit. it pulled out a sharp cry of pleasure that came tumbling from your lips, and just like he had been the whole damn time, james was enthralled. captivated. there was no better word than the one he'd already thought a million times- obsessed.
james' other hand roamed your body, touching you everywhere he could get it. he ghosted his fingers over one of your nipples, then they trailed over your throat, lingering against your jugular, almost as a reminder.
james was strong. he could have grabbed you by the throat, thrown you face down and fucked you into the sofa cushions, but he didn’t. he was under you, submitting to you, crying for you. he wanted you to recognise that.
his fingers left your throat, which was good for you, because you almost faltered, but you were reminded of just how in control you were when james trailed his middle finger over the sore skin of your new tattoo.
"yes." you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
“i love you.” james blurted through a teary moan, because he just needed to say it out loud. “i love you, i love you, angel, i need-”
“yeah, yes- fuck-” you moaned as you squeezed around him and pulled him as deep as physically possible. “oh, i’m so close-”
james all but gasped for air as he shuddered underneath you, feeling the shock of a second orgasm creeping up on him so quickly that it was almost painful, and as soon as you dropped your head onto his shoulder and let out what could only have been described as a strangled cry, james lost his composure again.
“i love you, i love you!” he whined, bouncing you harshly upwards with a final snap of his hips, then just collapsed against the sofa, totally spent, chest heaving and gazing up at you as if you had just fallen from the sky.
“fuck.” you huffed finally. it took you a moment to catch your breath. it also took you a moment to shake off the urge to hold james down and make him do it again. he would have done it, for you, no questions, but you knew he was already fucked out and done for.
but then you saw james underneath you, his face stained with tears, out of breath and obviously aching from still being inside you. your eyes widened slightly at first. he looked ruined, but he looked so beautiful.
“darling..” you began, and you didn’t know whether or not to feel guilty.
james nodded quickly, and it was as if to say he was fine, which he wasn’t really, but he didn’t care, because you were still sitting on his lap and you were still letting him look at you, and that was all he was asking for, really.
“you’re okay?”
“i’m okay.” james assured you. “i love you.”
“i love you.”
james’ heart clenched at your words, because he was finally hearing you say it back, not just wailing his own proclamations of love to be met with a huff or an order in response.
you picked up on that. it wasn’t that you didn’t love james when you felt the way you did, it was that you didn’t feel like enough of yourself to be the one that he loved, not really. you felt like a strange sort of imposter, as if you weren’t really you, and you didn’t know if you wanted james to love you when you were like that.
wants be damned, james was going to love you anyway, and that was what he did. you showered, when you both found the lower body strength to drag yourselves upstairs, and the skin of your dark mark stung like flames were licking it instead of water, but james held your hand, reminding you that just because it was etched into your skin didn’t mean you had to fulfil its prophecy.
you kept the mark covered, after that, with long sleeves, and sometimes even a bandage when it was too hot not to dress for the weather. it only came out along with the black lipstick and a trip to malfoy manor, but every time it did, james would fold for you, and that served as intermittent stark reminders that james was a fan of the dark look, really.
eric bogosian at every public panel: the people are DYING for me to have SEX with ARMAND they like our GRAPHIC INTERCOURSE oh my! yes they do! they want to WATCH us fuck NASTY and so do I because I am a SLUT and armand and daniel are soooo into each other they need to kiss on the MOUTHS and actually where’s assad and luke let’s start filming this rolin get a pen write this down-
direct continuation of visual learner (so no plot) mwah!
cw ⟢ smut 18+ mdni, swearing, lots of kissings, inexperienced!reader, praise, dry humping, fingering, lots of petnames, usage of "pet", aftercare
summary: it started out with a kiss but now youre well and truly in the deep end, and the boys think a hands-on approach is more effective.
a/n: two smuts in a row, no one call me a slut. this sinfully long and theres basically no plot and idc, theyre hot. i feel no shame! without a doubt doing a pt3 bcs this would be like 8k of fucking otherwise not proofread x
“Should we stop, or do you wanna keep learning?”
If your brain was anything other than a gooey mess in your head, you’d have been able to answer him, instead, all you could focus on were the soft kisses that Sirius planted against your skin, eyes shut—basking in his touch.
You’d forgotten he’d even asked when his questioning hmmm reached your ears, inhaling deeply through your nose, searching for the air to support your voice—but when your lips parted to answer, the words couldn’t seem to find their way out. Mind too foggy, the remnants of a shuddering breath falling from you as your response slipped away—the way he worked his way back up your jaw, pecking and nibbling at the skin—your head was all but spinning.
His hands had snuck under the hem of your top, the backs of his nails lightly dragging over the curves at your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake—a harsh shiver running through you, spine forming a delicious arch that made James’ throat dry. And as Sirius’ lips inched closer to yours again, you found yourself instinctively chasing after them, connecting your lips with a quiet, content sigh.
His grin against your lips was positively wolfish, though it didn’t last long—pushing back into the your lips with a feverish want that was palpable, to everyone.
James forcibly rubbed his palms against the fabric of his trouser, restless in his seat as he watched the way your fingers tangled in Sirius’ hair, room filling with your soft mewls—blending so prettily with the low groans you pulled from Sirius’ throat as he tilted to his head to deepen the kiss. James caught a glimpse of Remus, adam’s apple bobbing—gaze locked on the exposed skin of your torso that Sirius had so graciously bared, pads of his fingers dimpling the flesh.
Sirius had a way with his lips, undeniably intoxicating, dizzying you longer you stayed connected, a warmth burning low in the pits of your stomach. He was overwhelming every one of your senses and you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away.
One of Sirius’ hands trailed up, palm resting over your throat, fingertips holding your jaw in place, taking your bottom lip into his teeth as he pulled away, eyes dark and lips stretching into a mischievous grin. Melting into his palm against your neck, letting him tilt your head back to nip at your collarbone again, small pants falling from you.
Words spread between the wet, open mouth kisses pressed to your skin, he huffed out a small chuckle—
”I’ll…take that…as…a yes…”
The quiet content hum you produced was barely a response, but it wasn’t your fault, Sirius had effectively turned your brain to goo and you weren’t going to stop him, savoring the warmth of his lips. He opened his eyes to sneak a peek at you, when his sights fell on James—cheeks almost as flushed as yours. Practically at the edge of his seat, fingers twitching at his sides, and Remus—he was no better. Shifting and fidgeting beside James, lips parted, gaze dark and intense as he watched.
He hadn’t meant to so self-indulgent, but you were all but putty in his hands and Sirius wasn’t going to deny himself such a luxury.
Though, he did feel a bit bad for poor James, he looked like he was about to combust from his efforts to restrain himself and remain seated.
Letting the hand that was delicately wrapped around your neck drift and join his other—cradling your face slightly, your eyes opened to find Sirius’ directly infront of yours, the tips of his nose brushing over the skin of your cheek. His lips were only just ghosting over yours, something glimmering in his eyes as they ran over your entire face—and though he held your head in place, he could feel the way you leaned into his touch.
Draw to his lips.
And it did nothing to quell his already inflated ego.
He was tempting—teasing you with another kiss, tilting his head when his tongue darted out to wet his flushed lips. Voice so low the vibrations sent a shiver through you—
“Mmmm, think Jamie wants a bit of your attention, sweetheart,”
Only then did you remember it was more than just you and Sirius in the room together, turning your head to find both James and Remus’ eyes already on you, burning so hot and intense you felt the air catch in your throat.
James’ self-control was already teetering on the edge, unravelling, thread by thread.
He was on you before you could even react, fingers slipping under your thighs as he pulled your onto him and out of Sirius’ lap. The smallest of gasps escaped you, fingers curling into his shoulders—your lips still buzzed with the remnants of Sirius’ kiss, and the heat of James’ palms as they gripped your thighs only added fuel to the small pit burning in you.
An amused chuckle sounded from beside you, Sirius, watching as you melted so easily against him, watching the way James’ eyes scanned you, as if sizing you up, like a predator evaluating his meal before pouncing.
James didn’t acknowledge his watchful gaze, or Remus’. He couldn’t take he eyes off you, not even for a second—his lips were so close to yours, almost touching, almost connected. Your breath fanned over the surface of his skin, leaving you in small huffs before you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at him through your lashes, innocent—bleary.
"You’re coming with me," he purred, voice honeyed, lips grazing the shell of your ear.
He adjusted his grip, one arm secure under your legs, the other braced against your back as he lifted you up both up and off of the sofa forcing the air left your lungs in a startled gasp—carrying effortlessly through the dimly lit corridor.
"Jamie!”
He cut you off with a kiss. Slow, deliberate, his lips pressing to yours as he’d been starved of touch this whole time. His steps never faltered, even as your fingers found the tufts at the nape of his neck, tilting into him. He hummed into your mouth, tongue flicking teasingly against yours before pulling back just enough to grin at you.
Behind you, Sirius let out a low groan. "Now he’s just showing off."
Remus swallowed thickly, eyes tracing the curve of your throat—James’ mouth against it—the way your lips were still parted, dazed from the kiss. Before he worked his way back to your lips, you saw the way Sirius leaned in to murmur something to Remus, a smirk playing at his lips as they followed after you.
You barely heard the way the door shut with a soft click behind you, the loud ringing of your pulse thumping in your ears—James' lips were still on yours—harder this time, fiercer, as if the kiss in the hallway had only stoked something raw—desperate inside him.
A startled sound left you as he backed you against the edge of the bed, his hands tightening where they held you. There was nothing soft in the way he kissed you now—nothing patient. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath, a bruising kind of want that left no room for uncertainty.
A snall whimper built in your throat, fingers curling into his shirt, and he almost growled—a low, frustrated sound against your mouth.
"So pretty," he muttered, words hot against your lips before biting at your bottom one, pulling until you gasped. "Don’t go shy on me now."
The bed dipped beneath you as he settled between your legs, hands bracketing your hips, thumbs pressing into the bone. He kissed you again, tongue sweeping into your mouth, deeper this time—searching, devouring. When you hesitated, overwhelmed, he rocked against you once, slow and deliberate, his hips pressing into yours with enough pressure to make your head spin.
A gasp slipped past your lips, and he smirked, pulling back just enough to drink you in, his pupils blown wide.
“Thaaat’s it,” he murmured, dragging a hand up your side, slipping beneath your shirt to press his palm flat against your ribs. “You’ll let me teach you, won’t you, sweetheart?”
Your heart hammered beneath your chest, breath coming quick, body alight with something new—something ovewhelming an addictive. Setting the surface of your skin alight—you struggled to find air—nodding dazed, and James leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Atta girl.”
From the doorway, Sirius let out an appreciative hum. “Bloody hell, Jamie, and you were worried I’d break her,”
He only smirked into your skin before tilting his head back up, claiming your lips again, leaving no time for you to catch your breath. His lips moved against yours, rough, insistent. His hands travelling along you wildly, unable to stay in one place for long before he moved it, grasping and groping—leaving goosebumps in his touch’s explorative wake.
He kissed like he wanted to ruin you—like he needed to, like every ounce of restraint had snapped the moment he had you beneath him. Almost every part of James was pressed against you, not even a slither of space between you, his palm curling around the under side of your thigh, hitching your leg up to his hip. Molding your body against him—fingertips digging into the flesh as he essentially manhandled you.
His hips rolled against yours, slow at first—taunting, teasing. The friction sent a jolt of heat straight through you, a soft, unbidden whimper falling from your lips. James caught it with a groan, teeth scraping your bottom lip before he tugged, drinking in the sound like it had gone straight to his head.
“Yeah?” he rasped, pulling back just enough to watch your face, to see the way your brows knit together, the way your breath hitched and shuddered with every shift of his hips. “You like that, sweetheart?”
You could only nod, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself as he rocked against you again—harder this time, his hips pressing down with delicious precision. The pressure was overwhelming, each slow grind setting your skin alight, winding something unbearably tight in the pit of your stomach.
"Words," his voice was hoarse, muffled against your jaw.
A breathless gasp tumbled out, but James didn’t let up. His hands slid under your shirt, thumbs brushing the bare skin of your waist, pressing into your ribs as he pinned you down, lips ghosting over your pulse—your body burned hot against his
"Come on, love," he purred, voice like silk, laced with something mean. "Let’s hear it."
Your nails dug into his arms, breath shuddering as he rocked into you again, dragging a strangled moan from your throat.
“James—”
“Mmmm,” he purred, pleased. "Knew you'd be good for me."
His praise made your head spin, warmth pooling low in your stomach. He kissed you again, swallowing every desperate noise that left your lips, his movements growing more insistent. Your thighs trembled beneath him, and you barely registered the low curse from beside you. Both Sirius and Remus had settled on either side of the mattress—watching in dark amusement, backs flush against the headboard.
Remus leaned over slightly, running his hand gently over your hair, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. ”This is more bullying than teaching, Prongs,”
James didn’t stop. Didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he smirked against your lips, eyes hooded as he murmured, “She can take it.”
Remus just swallowed thickly, exhaling a slow, hitching breath. His eyes wandering over both your figures, locking where James was grinding against you, discipline fraying with every moment because—fuck, you looked so good together.
Sirius was no better in his observation, joining Remus in his inclined position—breath tickling your ear, michief flickering wildly behind his eyes “Can you feel Jamie, sweetheart? Making you feel good?” his voice was teasing and syrupy, a perfect contrast to the way James’ hips moved with rough, calculated force.
Your head rolled towards him when James finally gave your lips a break—focusing on your neck.
Half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you tried to focus your gaze on Sirius, mewls still spilling from your lips with each mean buck of James’ hips against your core.
Gods, could you feel him.
Not just his lips—frenzied, nipping and sucking at the jaw, not just his hands—rough in the way they pawed at every part of your, from the curved of your ass to your hips and breast. You could feel him, the outline of his bulge, harsh and merciless in its rocking against you—making the saliva pool in your mouth, mind racing with lewd thoughts that sent even more heat rushing to the tips of ears.
He forced out a gasping whine when his hands came to pull you closer, bringing your hips up to meet his rough grinds. Your eyes were still on Sirius, you were nodding to him almost frantically—words breathy on another shuddering exhale.
“Yeah…mmph—’so big,”
Sirius’ brows cocked up into a suprised arch, always quick with his words until now, lips parting while he searched for a comeback and failing—a chuckle of disbelief falling from his lips, spreading into a grin.
If the combination of your moans and the delicious friction didn’t have James’ head spinning, your breathy little admission surely did the trick. His groan was deep, reverberating through his chest as he dropped his forehead against your shoulder, breath hot and uneven against your skin—rocking into you harsher, with more vigor, each rough grind sending little jolts of pleasure through you, making your body jolt lightly up the bed with the force of it.
The rough drag of his body against yours had you gasping, back arching as he set a pace that was utterly devastating. Each grind sent a pulse of pleasure through your core, stoked the warmth curling deep in your belly, made your thighs tremble where they bracketed his hips.
Sirius let out a low chuckle beside you, shaking his head in amusement. “Fuck, Prongs. You’re really set on breaking her in, aren’t you?”
James didn’t answer—too focused, too caught up in the warmth of you beneath him, in the way you gasped and clung to him with every deliberate roll of his hips. He was consuming you, and you let him, losing yourself in the sensations, in the deep pull of desire, in the way James knew exactly how to pull you apart.
Remus, lounging beside Sirius, exhaled a slow, measured breath. His eyes were sharp, intense, tracking every little reaction you gave, each quiver of your breath—your dazed expression. Letting out a half-exasperated sigh, the hint of a smirk curling at his lip, he shook his head. “James,” he chided, voice laced with amusement, “you shouldn’t ravish the poor girl.”
James groaned into your shoulder, pressing his weight against you one last time, rolling his hips in a way that had your breath catching in your throat. "I don’t hear her complaining," he muttered smugly. The warmth in his voice sent another wave of heat rolling through you, had your fingers tugging at his shirt like you wanted him closer even though there was no space left between you.
And yet, reluctantly, he pulled back, shifting onto his knees between your legs. His gaze flickered over you—your parted lips, the dazed, needy expression on your face, the way your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Your legs were still spread around him, your skin flushed, lips swollen from kisses and your own unrestrained biting, top rucked up to expose the smooth expanse of your stomach.
You were wrecked—and they hadn’t even truly touched you yet.
Sirius made a sound low in his throat, something between a chuckle and a groan, dark eyes flicking over your form like he was committing every little detail to memory.
James swallowed, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip—maybe he had got a bit carried away. Exhaling a breath, he sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, before finally shifting off you.
You barely had time to mourn the loss of his warmth before Remus moved, adjusting the pillows behind him before gently coaxing you up, guiding you to settle back against his chest. His arms around you, solid and warm, and the moment you leaned into him, a small gasp caught in your throat.
Because you felt it.
The hard, undeniable press of his arousal against your back, heat searing through the layers of fabric still between you. Your breath hitched, body going stiff for a fraction of a second before you melted against him, fingers unconsciously curling into the material of his trousers.
A deep hum rumbled through Remus’ chest, and his lips brushed the shell of your ear as he spoke, voice low and thick. “Y’alright, dove?”
He only felt you nod against him, still drinking in small breaths of air.
Chuckling softly, his hands smoothed over your thighs in slow, soothing motions, giving you time to come back into the room fully. After a few moments your breath evened he spoke again, “Wanna keep going?”
The question sent a fresh rush of heat flooding through you, but you nodded again, significantly more eager. He hummed lowly, palms still kneading your flesh, before slipping up, ghosting over the skin of your stomach. Tilting head to look down at you, he could see the way your lips were still flushed, a huffed chuckle punctuating his sentence—
“How about…we give your lips a bit of a break, love?” his lips just barely grazing your temple.
You still couldn’t trust your voice, humming in approval, tongue flicking lightly over your lips.
Sirius, who had settled beside you on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, let his fingers ghost over your leg, the touch barely there—teasing, absentminded touches that made your breath hitch. His gaze was dark, intruiged, dragging over your form with something keenly observant—like he was watching very closely for every little reaction you gave.
Remus shifted slightly behind you, hands sliding under the hem of your top, coaxing you to lift your arms. His movements were slow, patient, giving you time to stop him, but when you didn’t—when you let him—he hummed in approval, slipping the fabric up and over your head, baring you further to their hungry gazes.
The air kissed your newly exposed skin, raising goosebumps in its wake, and suddenly, you felt so aware of yourself—of the way their eyes were drinking you in, of the way Sirius’ tongue swiped over his bottom lip, of the way James’ breath hitched just slightly.
Sirius let out a low whistle, a slow, easy grin tugging at his lips. “Damn, sweetheart,” he mused, voice teasing but dripping with appreciation. “You’ve been hiding that from us all this time?”
Heat rushed to your face, but before you could stammer out a response, Remus exhaled a quiet chuckle against your skin.
Letting his palms smooth over your sides, murmuring his approval into your skin, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your ribs, his touch feather-light, teasing. Sirius and James just watched, fascinated, as Remus took his time, dragging his fingers over the delicate lace covering your chest, gaze flickering over your figure.
Remus’ voice was softer now, a quiet murmur, honeyed and lightly laced with desire.
“I have something I want to learn, too.”
You almost didn’t notice the way his fingers trailed down your body, skin prickling at the back of your neck when Remus started toying with the waistband of your trouser. Only just slipping the pads of his fingers underneath the edge before pulling away again, testing, and each time his did—air catches in your throat.
His lips brushed against your ear, voice patient but filled with quiet intent.
“Do you want these off?”
You swallowed thickly, your gaze flicking downward, watching the way his fingers played with the fabric one again—waiting, asking.
Answering with a trembling breath, “Yes…please.”
Sirius hummed in approval, his grin slow and lazy as he sat up, his fingers joining Remus’ as they worked together to ease you out of the fabric, their touches warm and reverent.
“Hmmm, such good manners,” His praise was a murmur against your temple, a quiet rumble of satisfaction that had a shiver running down your spine.
Remus’ gaze never wavered, his fingers tracing along your newly bared skin, watching, studying, soaking in every little shiver, every sharp intake of breath, every unconscious tilt of your hips. His thumb ghosted over your hipbone, over the top hem of your panties and them under the one that hugged the seam of your thighs.
Touches slow and tentative, so much so that your almost forgot to breath—eyes following his fingers just as much as James and Sirius’.
Remus’ other hand skimmed lower, teasing at the inside of your knee, coaxing your legs to part just a little wider, making nonsense patterns into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The pads of the fingers on his other hand, just barely grazing over the front of your clothed core. And though he couldn’t see it directly, he could feel it—the small wet spot the had formed, spreading and darkening the colour of the fabric.
Your eyes had already shut at the contact, hairs on the back of your neck standing on end—teeth sinking into the flesh of your barely settled, swollen lips. Hands by your sides, balling into small fists as Remus lightly glided over the fabric for what felt like forever.
Already squirming restlessly at the ghostly touch.
And when he finally—finally—dipped his hand under, you sucked in a sharp, trembling breath. Body tensing, ridgid in his hold, his palm was so hot against your skin and your mouth felt impossibly dry when you tried to swallow—rid yourself of the lump that had formed in your throat.
Remus was still careful, watching each twitch of your thighs, each skipping rise and fall of your chest—viligant. He’d still barely done anything. Just cupping you, hums of approval rumbling in his chest at the way your core practically drooled over his fingers.
The steady pulse of your heartbeat sounding in your ears almost drowning out his words, “f-fuck dove, you’re soaked,”
Your muscles burned from the strain, using every cell in your brain to not buck helplessly into his hand. It was torturous really. The way he kept his hand firmly pressed against your folds, unmoving, the way he muttered against your neck, “so wet,” pausing between each word to press a kiss to your skin.
Relishing in the way your body shuddered against his, burning hotter at the moments pass—he hadn’t originally intended to tease you so, but the small whimpers that built in your throat with each squirm just tempted him too much.
The way you chewed at your bottom lip, brows arched and pinched on your forehead as you melted into him—relishing in how sensitive you were, how responsive your body was to his words.
“y’this messy just for us, dove? Mmmm, we’re so lucky,”
Both James and Sirius hum appreciatively from beside you, your eyes were still screwed shut, but you were sure their eyes were stuck on your middle—watching attentively as Remus finally moved his hand, just slightly dragging a finger through your slit, twitching in his hold. Thighs instinctively shifting to close when Sirius’ hand caught you, hand coaxing your thighs to part further.
Your head fell back onto Remus’ shoulder the second he moved his hand, even the slightest bit of friction sending waves of pleasure over your body. A gasping whine rushing past your lips, “rem,”
His other palm was pressed flush against your skin, comfortable under the hem of your panties—massaging lightly into your hip bone. Smirking into your skin as your hips raised off of the mattress slightly—pushing into his touch, pads of his fingers just barely gliding over your swollen bundle of nerves.
Sirius’ smirk widened, fingers dragging feather-light over your thigh, gaze flickering from your core to Remus as he mused lowly, “Didn’t realise you were such a sadist, Moony,”
The corners of Remus’ lips split into a wolfish grin as he finally decided to relent, ending your torment by making a single pressurised flick over your clit—your body jolted in his hold at the feeling. A soft whimper of his name leaving slipping out, and it had him twitching shamelessly in his trousers.
With each deliberate, languid roll of your bud against his fingers had your hands gripping harshly at the sheets beside you, walls spasming and clenching around nothing. And Remus could feel it, the throb of your core against him—smirking against the dip of your neck. Drinking in the small pants that fell from your lips, each heave your chest—letting one of his hands trail leisurely up your torso taking a mean handful of your breast.
Kissing a path up to your ear, lips ghosting over the shell—earning a particularly sweet gasp when one finger circled your entrance, the low, candied cadance his voice took had you struggling to swallow the saliva that pooled in your mouth. Nipping gently at your earlobe between his words—
“Wanna learn…how…to make you…feel good, pet.”
He’d effectively turneed your brain into mush, sucking in a shuddering breath when his pushed in a finger, producing an obscene squelch that had Sirius’ adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
Your head rolled slightly, brows twitching in the arch high on your forehead, unable to focus on anything other than the slow drag, the in and out and in out of his long strokes—
”G’na let me take care of you?”
God you could barely breathe, every sense overwhelmed, pressed firmly against Remus—splayed out on the mattress surrendered, at his mercy. And you could feel the pressure, the way all the eyes in the room were on you, trained to where you Remus’ hand pumped, tantalisingly slow.
Remus chuckled lightly behind you at the delirious little nods you made, followed by a satisfied hum—drunk on the way you clenched around him, practically gushing around his single digit. Walls fluttering around him when he pushed all the way in, knuckle deep—and it knocked almsot all the wind out of you.
Body slumping into him, squeezing your eyes shut impossibly tighter as your mewls bounced and echoed off the walls, “f-fuck—rem, ngh,” almost overshadowing the lewd wet sounds coming from your middle.
Thighs trembling forcefully when he worked another finger past the tight ring of muscles, jaw hanging loose—moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips. Unable to keep your body still, grinding against his hand. The stretch was immaculate, dizzying and it had the coil in the pit of your stomach twisting even tighter.
You barely heard the groan from beside you, just feeling the cold air against your folds, Remus had uncovered you, panties pulled lazily to the side. And you had no time to feel shy at the sudden exposure, because his was back to bullying his digits into you, fingers curling into your plush walls, searching for that one-
“Mmpfh! Hngh-”
Spine forming a delicious arch, jaw falling slack as Sirius inched closer to you, pressing small nibbling kisses into the flesh of your inner thigh, “—shit, so gorgeous, love,” taking his time to suck a small mark into your skin. Gaze shifting to James, who was just as breathless as you, palming his own tented trousers beside Remus, a smirk splitting onto his lips at the sight, “Look,”
Remus was reeling his two fingers back, all the way, just barely leaving them kissing the surface of your folds—spreading them slightly—a clear sheen of slick coating his fingers. Giving them a meer moment to admire you before plunging back in.
Rough pads of his finger prodding ruthless against that spot—over and over, like he was addicted to the fluttering clench of your walls around him. High on the sweet whines that spilled from you.
Muttering against your pulse, “Yeah, sweetheart? Right there?” grinning into your skin.
Your mind was scattered, chanting your hips up into his hand, desperate—feverish. The steady curling push push push had your eyes rolling into the depths of your skull, Sirius’ voice sounded far away, muffled—vaguely computing his words, “fuck, thaaat’s it, angel—you close?”
It was so overwhelming, the invasive heat that spread beneath your skin, the room practically spinning around you when you forced your eyes to open just a slither. Immediately met with Sirius’ hooded gaze, his smirk spreading wider across his lips, your fingers twitched endlessly at your sides.
Body jittering as the coil in your stomach wound tighter as the seconds passed—it wasn’t until Remus brought his thumb over your throbbing bundle of nerves, rubbing tight little circles in time with the rough prods he pushed against that spot—that your thighs threatening to clamp shut around his hand at the stimulation.
A sinfully sweet cry forcing its way out of your mouth, Sirius watched as tears sprung in your eyes, prying your thighs apart—and you heard Remus’ voice distantly in your ears, taking his own leg over yours to keep you in place,
“No, no, no keep them open, pet. Wanna make you feel good,”
He could feel the way you squeezed and pulsed around him, hips bucking wildly into his palm, choked incoherent whines filling the room. Sirius still littering marks over your thighs—his eyes flickering between you and James, who was desperately fisting his length in time with Remus’ hand—jaw slacked, huffing out breathless pants.
Tears clung to your lashes, teetering dangerously close to the edge, writhing in Remus’ hold—mattress creaking lowly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from below.
Eyes rolling into the back of your head before squeezing shut—pushing tears out the corners of your eye. Desperately scrambling for purchase, anything to keep you tethered to the room.
Sirius interlocked one hand with yours, the other—clawing at Remus’ forearm as he worked to push you over the edge, words hypnotising and honeyed.
“you’re okay, sweetheart—that’s it, taaake it,”
Bringing his lips to suck a small bruise into the thin skin behind your ear, body seizing in his hold, forming a delicate little arch as your jaw slacked. Wanton babbles leaving you as the coil in your stomach snapped—high washing over you, stars clouding your vision. A string of strangled gasps “hngh—rem, so—remus,” spilling out.
Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you when his fingers didn’t stop—hips bucking away from his touch while he worked you through your high, muttering against your temples, “Goood girl, keep cumming f’me,” shuddering in his hold, the mantra of his name heavy on your lips even after you slacked into him.
Aftershocks wracked through you in quiet tremors, your body boneless against the mattress as your heartbeat echoed like waves in your ears—loud and steady and a little unmoored. Remus stayed holding you, murmuring soft praise as he slowly pulled out, careful and gentle with every motion.
He pressed small, fluttering kisses over your shoulder, the corner of your neck—reverent and grounding. One hand brushing hair from your damp forehead, palms warm and steady.
“Did so well,” words low and soothing as he whispered “Just breathe, love. I’ve got you.”
You let out a soft, trembling exhale, too far under to say anything yet, but the way your fingers curled around his wrist was enough.
Sirius inched up beside you, head resting lightly on your stomach, thumb grazing the edge of your temple as he took you in. “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, “Y’alright? Still with us?”
You gave him the smallest nod, blinking up at him with glazed, half-lidded eyes. Sirius sighed, all fondness, and leaned in to kiss your cheek, the corner of your lips.
James murmured something about water and padded off to the kitchen, returning a minute later with a warm cloth in one hand and a glass that he helped you sip from carefully, brushing his fingers under your chin as you drank.
Remus took the warm cloth, gently tending to you—every swipe over your skin tender and attentive, whispering praise into the crook of your neck, your hair, your temple. Eyes fluttering closed as you basked in the warmth of their touch.
studying with james makes him realise how much he likes it when you call him clever. 📜🕯️📕
🎧 sexy boy- air
warnings: smut MDNI, everyone is 18+ ,unprotected sex, semi-public sex (common room at 2am), james being submissive, praise, perv!james if you squint, me making up spells
—————————————————————————
James was sitting on the common room floor in front of the fire, leaning his back against the sofa. His hair was tousled, and he was still in his uniform, but his shirt was unbuttoned slightly and his tie was hanging loosely around his collar. He had a quill tip dangling from his lips and was twirling his wand over his fingers, muttering to himself as he was hunched over a textbook, scanning the pages quickly.
“James?” you asked, rubbing your eyes as you trudged out to the kitchen. “It’s 2 o clock, what are you doing out here?”
James turned around to see you emerging from the girls’ dorm in your pyjamas, and he smiled faintly at that. You were comfortable enough around him that your pyjamas didn’t matter, which he appreciated.
“I can’t sleep.” he admitted, shrugging as he set his quill down gently on the table, eyes drifting scarcely over the page he was just writing on as he spoke again. “I thought I might as well go back over this.”
“Madman.” you giggled, filling the tea kettle up with water. You took two cups from the cupboard and dropped a teabag into each one. “What is it that you’re doing?”
"Just trying to figure out this bloody Charms work that Flitwick wants by Friday," James said, running a hand through his messy hair. He watched you as you made the tea, his eyes lingering on the way you shuffled around without even thinking about it. “You can’t sleep either?"
“No.” was all you needed to say, and you didn’t dare tell James that the reason why you were up was because you’d had a pretty rattling dream about him in particular.
James tilted his head slightly as he observed you, his eyes studying your expression. He could tell that you were thinking about something, but he wasn't sure what it was.
"Nightmare?" he asked quietly, his voice a little softer than usual.
“Not this time, actually.” you replied, looking over at James as you filled each mug up with water. You were known for having vivid dreams, and on occasion, they were prophetic. It was a magical thing. Your mother had it, too. “Just a weird one.”
James raised an eyebrow as he heard you mention having weird dreams, his curiosity piqued. He shifted a little on the floor, patting the spot next to him.
"Come here," he said, gesturing for you to sit down beside him in front of the fireplace.
That made you smile. You liked James. He was a good friend, and he didn’t need a reason to be. You nodded, bringing over both cups of tea and setting them down on the table before sitting on the floor next to James.
“Come on then, if you’re studying.” you said, holding your hands out for James’ notes.
James chuckled softly as he handed over his notes, watching as you took them from him. He appreciated the way you were so willing to help him, even when you were up and about at an ungodly hour.
He leaned back against the sofa, watching the way the flickering of firelight illuminated your face and destroyed any illusions of tiredness that were lingering previously. It almost made you look as if you were glowing.
You took the notes, reading through them, deciphering what you could turn into a question. “What are the three things that can be enchanted will the spell movere avem?”
James drummed his fingers on his knee as he thought for a moment, trying to recall the answer.
"Okay, I know that’s the spell for enchanting things that have been transfigured from birds; because we were running around last week trying to catch a pigeon to use it for a quaffle." he laughed.
You giggled at that, nodding. James was always making you laugh, and he looked good doing it. Which was a thought that bad never entered your mind before. “Okay, so you enchant Quidditch balls with it, what else?”
James smirked at hearing your laugh, enjoying the sound of it. He thought for a moment longer, trying to remember the other two things.
"Uh... a birdcage, maybe?" he offered, but it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.
“Balls, brooms, and tree branches.” you gave James the answer, looking up at him over the paper. “Okay, let’s take a new angle.”
You set the paper down, turning to face him. Your hair was hanging loosely around your shoulders and the strap of your tank top was close to falling off your shoulder. “How would you light the fireplace and keep it burning using only magic?”
James' gaze was drawn to the strap of your tank top as it slipped down your shoulder, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin for a moment before flicking back up to meet yours.
"Well, that's easy," he said, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Chuck a log on the fire, light it, then just keep levitating the logs onto it. Like you do.”
“That’s good,” you said, looking up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “But you’re missing something.”
James' eyes flicked over your expression as he noticed it. He felt a swell of pride when you told him the answer he gave you was good, but he wasn’t sure what was absent from it. He was desperate to know, desperate to make it right so that he could do really good, already unintentionally seeking validation from you.
"Am I?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay so if you’re thinking about how I light the fire, there’s something else I do to the logs so that they burn well.” you explained, muttering a quick incantation to your wand and levitating a log onto the fire as you waited for James to answer.
"Drying them out, maybe?" he guessed, his eyes flickering over you as he tried to figure out what you were getting at.
“See, there you go, you did know it.” you replied sweetly, smiling matter of factly. “You’re doing good.”
James's expression softened when you spoke, because he was basking in the validation of you telling him he’d done a good job. That was one thing about James you didn’t know. He folded when pretty girls were telling him he’d done a good job.
“Yeah,” he answered, throat dry.
“Okay, so if you wanted to put the fire out?” you asked, setting your wand back down and sipping your cup of tea.
“Aguamenti?”
“It would, but it’s messy, and then you have to deal with the wet ashes.” you explained. “Come on, you’re clever enough to know this.”
James ran a hand through his hair, still trying to remember the answer. He was starting to get distracted by the thought of you calling him clever. That, and how much he enjoyed hearing you say it. How much he wanted to hear you say it while he was-
"Right, right," he said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "What's the answer, then? I feel like there's something obvious I'm missing."
“Aguamenti’s right if you want to put out a fire quickly, but if you want to do it without making a mess..” you turned towards the fire and rocked up onto your knees, holding your wand up to your mouth and whispering something, then blowing down the edge of your wand onto the fire, plunging the room into darkness.
With a quick Lumos, you could see again, the tip of your wand glowing. “Ta-da.”
“I need to pay more attention in Charms.” was all James said, gazing over at you from where he was leaning against the sofa.
“Don’t be silly.” you said, chucking another log on the fire and lighting it, so that you didn’t have to use your wand to illuminate the room anymore. “You’re perfectly clever, really. Clever enough to not need my help.”
“It’s not that I’m not clever, I just can’t ever remember how to do this bloody work.”
“Well, then use your clever brain and figure it out.” you teased. “Come on. What’s the spell for enchanting kitchen tools to move?”
James groaned inwardly as you challenged him again, but he couldn't help the way he felt when you told him to use his clever brain. Without knowing it, you were validating him in ways he’d never have expected from you. If he had been stood up, his knees would have buckled. He thanked the universe that he wasn’t.
"Um... Circumrota momentus," he answered, hoping that he was right.
“Yes, good!” you replied, proud smile spreading across your face. “That was a hard one, I did that on purpose, but that’s good. You’re doing well.” you praised, looking around the room and trying to think of another question.
James shut his eyes as soon as you looked away, willing himself to just be normal for once and keep it together. His breaths were shallowing every time you let him know how well he was doing, how good he was, how clever.
“Okay, quick-fire. Ready?” you asked, looking down at the page as you skimmed over it.
James nodded, knowing he had to regain at least some of his composure if he wanted to get away with this. You’d probably have freaked out if you knew what you were doing to him. He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, but to you it looked as if he was just getting comfortable.
“What’s the spell for getting seeds out of a tree that’s already grown?”
“Semina arboris?”
“That’s good.” you nodded. “Well done.”
James just nodded back. He didn’t have time to think about it before you were quizzing him again.
“How to make plants grow twice as fast?”
“Crescere velocious.”
“Good.” you praised, smiling as you looked up at James. “You are clever, aren’t you?”
James cleared his throat, because if he hadn’t have styled out a cough, right then, you’d have heard him breathing out a groan. It was the tone of your voice more than anything for him. Not quite patronising, but smooth and doting enough that it weakened him enough to knock the breath out of him.
“Yeah,” he breathed, looking over at you. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
“It’s not like you to be so modest.” you teased, coming up onto your knees again as you spoke so that you could reach the fireplace, blowing gently into the flames to stoke them. You abandoned your magic and picked up a log, considering you were already there, setting it on the fire and watching it set alight as you continued. “Normally, you’re the first to tell everyone how fantastic you are. But I’m not lying when I say, you’re clever, James. You’re one of the smartest boys I know, anyway.”
James watched you, fascinated by how much the fire captivated your attention. He loved that you loved it, and he loved watching the flames reflected against your eyes as you smiled down into the fire.
What he loved most of all, however, was the way you praised him so effortlessly, whilst you were doing something else, and still making him so painfully hard that the blush in his cheeks had drained because the blood was needed elsewhere.
“Yeah.” was all James could manage, looking away, and he was just thankful it didn’t come out as a whine.
You sat back down, stretching your legs out this time, leaning your back against the coffee table so that you were facing James. You tilted your head as you watched him. “Let’s finish this Charms work. Since you’re doing so well it won’t take long.”
James' eyes were stuck on your legs for a moment before he tore his gaze away, trying to think about anything other than how you looked in the light of the fire; gazing over at him so innocently; telling him how well he was doing.
It wasn’t working.
“I don’t think I can…” James huffed, voice cracking as he said it.
“Oh dear.” you remarked. “Why not? You were doing so well!”
The thing about being a witch who had prophetic dreams was that when you knew your visions were about to come true, you sensed an inexplicable, hazy feeling that was similar to how you were feeling when you first saw an event in your sleep.
“Oh dear.” you repeated, softer this time. “James..”
“It’s nothing-” he groaned, running a hand over his face, the blush returning to his cheeks because you had cottoned on to what he was feeling.
What James hadn’t expected to come out of the situation was the smile that spread across your face. It was soft, and genuine, but there was a hint of something slightly more intense.
“Darling, you should have said.” you mused as you put your hands on the floor in front of you, either side of James’ hips, to steady yourself so that you could lean forward. Your faces were inches away from each other, and you looked down at James, who was slouching underneath you, head resting back against the sofa, lips slightly parted as he gazed up at you.
James felt his last shred of resolve snap like a twig. He breathed out a quiet little whine, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.
“I need-”
“I know.” you cooed, now letting the patronising tone back into your voice, still smiling pitifully down at James as you leaned down to kiss him.
James felt your lips touch his, and all rational thought left his head. He reached up to wrap an arm around your neck, pulling you closer to him until you lost your balance, falling into his lap.
You reached out to take James’ hands in your face, rolling your hips down against his in an attempt to create some friction.
James let out a quiet moan, his hands grabbing at your hips as he held you down against him. He pulled back from your lips and buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses along your collarbone.
"Please," he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into of your hips to pull you as close to him as physically possible. "I need you."
You nodded feverishly, then tilted your head to one side, leaning backwards in James’ arms as you felt his breath against your skin.
“I know,” you huffed. “It’s okay.”
You pulled your top off over your head and threw it away, then you slid your cold hands under James’ white shirt, which was oversized enough on him to come straight off over his head.
“Ah-!” he gasped at the feeling of your cold hands on his bare skin, eyes widening.
“I’m sorry, darling.” you hummed, pushing James’ shirt up over his head. “That’s it, there we go.” you said as you threw it away. “Well done.”
James shivered as he looked up at you, his lips parted slightly as he watched you. He was already breathing heavy and the combination of your touch with the sound of your praises was driving him up the wall.
You let James lay you out on the floor, relaxing your back against the rug after expecting the cold floor. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as James lifted your hips up with one hand and slid your pyjamas off with the other.
As soon as you were laid out on the rug, James was on you, his hands roaming over your body as he trailed kisses down your neck and chest.
"Need you, please,” he begged, his voice coming out sharp and whiny.
You nodded permissively, eyes trained on James’ hands as they unbuttoned his trousers. If the world was ending in that moment, you wouldn’t have dared to look away.
James kicked his trousers off hastily, not wanting to waste any more time. He positioned himself above you, holding himself up with one hand as he looked down at you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Your eyes widened and you dropped your head back onto the floor as you felt James push slowly, carefully into you. You gritted your teeth, hand coming up to your mouth to keep yourself quiet.
“Oh, fuck-!” James whined, eyes squeezing shut as he leaned down to kiss your shoulder again, almost collapsing against you at the feeling.
“Fuck.” you echoed, feeling as if you relaxed any more you’d melt into the floor. “Fuck, that’s it.”
“Please,” James repeated, his hands gripping your waist tightly. “Please-” he was beginning to babble, unable to find the words he needed.
You knew what he wanted.
“I know, I know.” you breathed. “Feels so good, darling, feels amazing.”
James nodded in response, unable to form any words other than your name. He rolled his hips against yours, the feeling of being inside you making him lightheaded.
"Fuck,” you said again, lacing your fingers through James’ hair and tugging it gently. “You’re so pretty, so pretty, it feels so good.”
He was lost entirely to the sensation of you, his body responding to every touch, every move you made. James couldn't think straight; the only thing his mind was able to focus on was the way you felt around him, and the way your voice would break when he hit the right spot.
You reached up to kiss James deeply, then you used your legs to wrap around his back and pull him against you so you could roll over, straddling him.
“Fuck-!” James' eyes widened in surprise as you rolled him over, straddling him with effortless ease. He looked up at you, his gaze filled with lust and admiration. That made him whine softly underneath you, his head dropping back against the floor as you rocked your hips against his. He reached up to run his hands over your thighs, his touch filled with need.
You rested one hand on James’ stomach, steadying your balance as you rolled yourself against him, and then other came up to your own chest, kneading one of your tits, eyes shut.
“James, it feels so good, darling- doing so well.” you praised, desperation now seeping into your own voice.
James' breath caught in his throat as he watched you touch yourself. His eyes fixed on your hand as you palmed your chest, completely entranced by the way you moved against him.
You noticed, dragging your other hand down James’ stomach gently, and then up to your own body, pressing down where you needed it the most.
“Oh, fuck,” James whispered as he watched you, biting down on his bottom lip. “Please, I need- I’m-”
“It’s okay,” you reassured, taking James’s face in your hands, leaning forward to kiss him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
James let out a soft moan, his body shaking as your words and touch sent shivers down his spine. He was so close, so desperately close to the edge, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. He reached up to cup your face in his hands, his eyes drifting shut as he tried to hold himself back.
"Please, I can’t-" he whimpered, his voice cracking slightly. "I’m gonna-"
You felt yourself growing closer and closer to the same edge, and you nodded, your hand flying back to touch yourself against, only bringing yourself closer to snapping.
“Yes- fuck!, That’s it! James, don’t stop, darling, it feels so good, soso good, fuck!”
James felt like he was on fire when he lifted you off of him and came up your stomach, physically twitching as his hips stuttered forward. That made you shiver, and you came seconds later, leaning back on your left arm as your right was still slipping across your skin.
James folded his arms over his eyes, covering them as his chest heaved up and down, taking deep breaths. He whined a few more times as he continued to twitch, but after that he just laid there, completely spent.
You got your breath back sooner than that, reaching for your wand. “Novum textus.” you breathed, pulling a tissue from the end of your wand and using that to clean yourself up, still sat on top of James.
“I don’t think I can move.” he complained, dropping his head back onto the floor.
You smiled- a warm, soft smile. “Well, I’d be more than happy for you to stay down there.”
James couldn't help but smile back at you. He knew he should get up, but he was still feeling too boneless to move just yet.
He reached up to brush a strand of hair back from your face, his touch gentle. "I think I like it down here.”
sneaking away with james when you’re short on time shows you how lucky you really are. ❤️🔥🪞
🎧 i was made for lovin’ you- kiss
warnings: smut 18+, MDNI, unprotected sex, dacryphillia (crying), rough sex, james being a sex god (canon), sirius having impeccable comedic timing, everyone is 18+, literally just porn with no plot. i didn’t even attempt plot. it’s just porn.
“Do we have time?” you asked sarcastically, angling your face towards the full length mirror so that you could see where you were shoving your earrings. Even so, you ended up just haphazardly stabbing your earlobes around the piercing, because you were distracted by the sight of James coming up behind you.
You were stood in the common room trying to smoke a cigarette, put your jewellery on and have a cup of tea all at the same time before you headed into Hogsmeade. The plan remained as it always was on a sunny Saturday- set up shop in The Three Broomsticks, and stay there until you tapped out, or one of the boys did something stupid and got you thrown out.
For the time being, however, James was ogling your reflection, and you could tell what he wanted by the way he was staring.
“I can make it work.”
“We have to leave in ten minutes.”
James laughed silently, his gaze locked onto the sight of you struggling with your earrings. He took another step towards you, reaching out to graze his right hand over your hip, pulling you back towards him.
"You don’t think I can make you feel good in ten minutes?” he mused, and you could hear the sarcasm oozing from his voice as he lowered his lips to your ear so no one else could hear. It was mostly unnecessary- sure, there were a few people on the other side of the common room; and Remus was sat in front of the fire trying to teach Sirius how to turn a green apple into a red one- but James was just doing it to tease you. Speeding up the process.
In his defence? It worked. You dragged James up the stairs to his empty dorm without another word.
He caught you around the waist as you both stumbled into the dorm, making sure to slam the door behind you before backing you up against it- a little warning to everyone else not to come in, since you’d both left your wands in the common room so you couldn’t lock the door.
“Get this fucking thing off of me.” you insisted, pulling aimlessly at your dress.
James reached down and grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him into a deep kiss, before running a hand up your back to drag the zip of your dress back down. Muggle clothes. James hated how complicated they were.
You wriggled hastily out of your dress and stepped out of it, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you walked James backwards towards his bed.
“Ten minutes,” you breathed as you walked slowly towards him, eyes fixed onto his as you unclipped your bra and threw it away onto the floor. “If you can make me come in ten minutes, I’ll fuck you in the bathroom of the pub.”
“Oh, fuck.” James groaned, pulling you down and kissing you again, hard, a hand snaking up into your hair, tugging gently (for now) at the roots. He trailed his lips lightly over your skin, kissing along your throat and collarbone.
He bit down in the place where your neck met your collar, and his hands gripped your thighs tight enough to leave fingertip bruises, holding you down as he snapped his hips up towards yours. You felt him through the fabric of your clothes- your underwear, James’ jeans, and the friction against your core was making you squirm.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, and you found yourself rushing to tear off any remaining clothes that were in your way. You couldn’t handle the feeling of being so close, yet so far, so you reached down to pull your underwear to one side, sinking down on top of James with a gasp.
“Fuck!” he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. His hands gripped your thighs for dear life as you slid down onto him, and he sucked in a sharp breath of air as he slipped smoothly inside you.
James kissed along your jaw, running his tongue along the soft skin. “S’ a good thing-” he gasped out as he felt you lift yourself up on his dick. “Good thing we’ve only got ten minutes,”
“Huh? Why?”
James’ breath was ragged, and he couldn’t help rocking his hips forward ever so slightly, the pressure driving him mad. It was taking all of his self-restraint not to just flip you face down and drill you into the bed.
“Cus I’m not gonna last long when you look like that.”
It was things like that which cemented your confidence in the fact that James could fuck you right in ten minutes. If he kept saying things so amazingly filthy to you, he could probably do it twice.
You let a breathy laugh escape you at his words, tilting your head to one side as you started to drive your hips back and forth. You draped one arm over James’ shoulder to steady yourself, palm splayed out against his back.
James groaned, loud and needy, his grip now on your hips, tight as a vice, as he helped to guide you down over him. His breathing was ragged, and his head fell backwards as he let out another strangled sound.
“Oh, love. So fucking-” James sighed, his hand tangling even further into your hair to pull your head back slightly. “-Fucking gorgeous. Feels so good.”
You knew James well. You always had. That meant you knew he had a habit of sneaking away with girls before you got together. You knew he was a flirt. That all he had to do was look at someone and they were folding for him. You knew that the things he said to you left you weak in the knees. You knew how other girls who had slept with him spoke about him.
You knew he could make you come, too. You knew that when James fucked you, it was sweet. Slow. Full of praises and tender kisses. And you still got off, first, every single time.
What you didn’t know, however, despite all evidence suggesting that you probably should have, was that when he wanted to, James fucked like a pornstar. You were just now finding that out.
“Fuck!” you gasped, leaning your head on James’ shoulder while he held your hips to guide you up and down. “Oh, fuck-”
He could feel himself coming apart underneath you, and he knew exactly what you were doing to him. James lifted his head up slightly, pulling his hand from your hips so that he could grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.
His gaze was intense, and he made sure to look into your eyes as he held your face, squishing your cheeks together.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told you, his voice gravelly. heavy. “So gorgeous, darling, you’re killing me.”
“Yeah,” you replied, although it came out as less of a question and more of an admission, but you didn’t really mind.
You’d had sex before, sure. You had fucked James before. So many times that you had lost count. This, however, was something else entirely. It was like you were finally realising why people fucked to release the tension between them.
You understood the saying, now, because you knew James loved you, deeply, but he was fucking you like he hated your guts.
James moved his hand from your jaw to your hair again, pulling you down and forcing your mouth against his, kissing you roughly. Hard enough to make your jaw ache. One of his hands slid down to wrap around your waist, holding you against him. He started jerking his hips up faster and harder, grinding into you in a way that was less like rolling his hips and more like trying to fuck up into you himself, so you didn’t have to do any of the work.
“James,” you hissed, feeling your resolve run further and further away from you, and you were out of breath from chasing it. “I can’t- please-“
Hearing you plead was almost his undoing, and James pulled away from your lips, moving on to your chest and running his tongue flat over your nipple, leaving his spit there. Just to make you shiver.
He nodded at your rambling, breathing heavily, the words falling out of his mouth coming out more like ragged moans. Like he was in pain, desperate for something. “Yeah, s’okay, darling, fuck-”
“Fuck, I can’t, I can’t, James I’m gonna- fuck!” you cried, finding yourself feeling less and less able to hold yourself up. You clung to James’ arms desperately, nails digging into his biceps and dropping your head forwards onto his shoulder again, breathing heavily against his skin.
“I know, I know,” he babbled, his words coming out in short, sharp gasps.
You were so overwhelmed that you felt your eyes sting with tears, something that had never happened before. You rambled incoherently, trying very hard not to scream considering you had no silencing charm.
James was still murmuring incorrectly, quiet and heavy into your shoulder. “Fuck, darling, angel, I love you.”
“I love you.” you echoed, looking down at James as you sat up straight, still teary from a combination of pleasure and exhaustion. Your vision was hazy, and so was your mind, clouded only with thoughts about how close you were. “I love you, I love you.”
James was breathless, and the way you looked at him, gazing down into his eyes as you rode him like a rodeo bull, was driving him insane.
His hands were on your hips again as he fucked faster up against you, and he felt like he’d never be close enough, no matter how deep of a spot he was hitting.
“Fuck,” he gasped out, and he could feel himself getting close. He reached down between the two of you and found your clit, rubbing circles over it with his thumb. “That’s it, fuck, m’gonna-”
As if you had been knocked unconscious, your vision went like static, and you had to bite down, hard, on James’ shoulder to stop yourself from screaming as you came.
Your legs twitched, and your hips stuttered forward as you cried into James’ shoulder. “Fuck!”
James’ jaw dropped as he watched you come undone on top of him, and that did it for him, too. He snapped his hips up against you once more, and you felt a rush of warmth shoot through you, making you twitch again. He panted your name a few times as he rode out his own orgasm. His entire body was trembling, and he almost couldn’t get his breath back.
James wasn’t sure he’d ever came so hard in his life.
It took a moment before he managed to get his bearings, lifting his head up to look at you, his eyes wide, like he was still trying to process what had just happened.
You looked like a mess, totally boneless, slumped against James, covered in bruises and your hair a complete bird’s nest, tears staining your cheeks.
“Oh, darling.” James said, voice hoarse as he reached up and tilted your face down to meet your gaze, studying your expression. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, reaching up to wipe your tears with the back of your hand, suddenly feeling very stupid for being fucked so hard that you cried. James didn’t think it was stupid. James thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
As soon as you had calmed down, you felt another jolt of adrenaline from the sound of someone pounding on the door.
“What are you doing to the poor girl in there, Prongs?!” came Sirius’ voice from the other side of the door. “We’re all waiting for you!”
James groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against your chest. “Tell him to piss off,” he said, his voice muffled.
“James says piss off!”
“Is he holding you hostage or something?!”
“Piss off!” James called, flopping back onto the bed.
“Let down your hair out the window, love, someone’ll be up in a minute!”
summary: poe has never been gone that long since you started dating; mornings happen to feel warmer when he is home.
warnings: p with minimal plot....., morning sex, handjob, piv sex, hair pulling (POE RECEIVING), this isn't just corn I promise it's mostly sweet because your honor they are in LOVE
tags: f!reader, fluff, banter, teasing:)
word count: 2.4k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
!!may the force be with you
You had fallen asleep to the featherlight stroke of his fingertips against your arm in his warm embrace; he had never been gone for that long since you started dating, and though you knew you would have to get used to being apart, you weren’t sure you actually would, ever.
But if it always felt this way, always felt raw and pure when you found each other again like you had just fallen in love with each other all over again, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be torn apart from time to time.
His eyes are still shut when yours open, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as his slow, steady breath tells you he’s still asleep. It is quite rare for the both of you to be able to linger in bed and enjoy a morning together, he is most of the time already long gone when you wake up, even on his days off he still spends running around everywhere.
You softly call his name when your hand comes to rest over his bare torso, fingers twisting with the chain around his neck, mouth pressing against the light stubble of his cheek.
He stirs softly, and his face contorts into a small yawn before he turns so he can nuzzle against your own.
“Morning,” he rasps softly, voice cracking with sleep as his eyes remain shut. His hand slips under the sheets, settling over your hip, his throat vibrating with a low hum as your fingers gently weave through his thick, messy curls. His own fingers mirror yours when they slip under your shirt, rubbing patterns onto your skin; you always wonder how he’s so warm all the time, heat radiating off his body like a living radiator.
“Morning,” you reply in a soft exhale, smiling as he drowsily blinks at you. “Slept well?”
He hums in reflection. “Better than the past three weeks” he ultimately affirms, his lips faintly pecking at the corner of your mouth.
“Corny” you mock, sighing softly when he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of your neck.
“Factual” he counters as he squeezes your hip, causing you to softly yelp in surprise and make him breathe out a laugh against your shoulder. “May seem surprising, but I actually like sleeping by your side in my bed more than I like sleeping practically on the ground in a shitty tent.” he adds, leaving a kiss just above the collar of your shirt before turning around.
“I would’ve never guessed that.” you tease. Poe takes a look at the holographic clock, turning back to you with a small frown when he realizes what time it is. Your eyes widen playfully, “I took the morning off. Surprise”
“Ouhhh,” he chants with a snide smirk, his hand crawling higher under your shirt as he presses his body close to yours again. “What a nice surprise”
“First time we can spend the morning together,” you note.
“It happened before”
You scoff. “Not by the book. You ended up being late to your own meeting” you retort with a playful smirk. The memory makes your stomach flutter; he had been particularly needy and desperate that morning, and you had had trouble trying not to laugh when he showed up to the conference room with his hair all mussed up and a faint blush over his face.
“Alright, yeah, but neither of us would’ve been happy if I left the room to get to the meeting in time huh?” he smirks, leaning in to capture your lips in a quick kiss as his hand under your shirt tickles up your ribs. “We kinda were in the middle of something”
“That we were” you acquiesce with a grin, hands joining the back of his neck to pull him back to your face again. His lips push against yours in a bruising kiss now, his free hand grasping onto your chin to part your mouth so he can slip his tongue in. He somehow manages to feel even closer to you when he works his tongue against yours, his kiss hungry and demanding as he softly grinds his hips against yours, his touch warm and impatient; your soft moan resonates within him when he cups your breast under your shirt, squeezing it softly.
He pulls away so the both of you can catch your breath. “Eager much?” you ask against his mouth, his lips still brushing against yours.
“I mean, three whole weeks of not being able to touch you baby.”
You smile, “Mhm” you mindlessly play with the curls at his nape, hands shifting to rest over his broad shoulders, your thumb gently rubbing over a small faded scar there. He presses his forehead against yours, his warm brown eyes boring into yours with that look you know all too well.
“I missed you” he mutters, hand smoothing over the surface of your stomach. You smile as you softly trace his face, the light stubble prickling the tips of your fingers.
“I know.” you press your lips against his again, hands shifting to grasp onto his hair; he lets out a faint groan when you bite onto his bottom lip as you pull away from the kiss. “Let me get on top of you” you demand, poking his stomach playfully.
“Oh yeah baby” he rolls onto the side, letting himself lay back down beside you. “Wouldn’t say no to that” he chuckles, tucking both his hands behind his head, a sly smirk growing over his face as you chuckle and press your hands over his bare torso, shifting to sit over his lap, your knees at either side of his hips.
You scoff when you adjust your position, softly grinding against him. “You’re fully hard already? Not even letting me work for it? Wow”
“You got that kinda effect on me,” he sighs softly, hands grabbing your hips, caressing your sides under your shirt. “I told you, three whole weeks of not being able to touch you”
You chuckle mockingly, leaning closer to his face. “Yeah, don't tell me you didn't touch yourself though” you whisper teasingly; he scoffs and wraps a hand behind your head to bring you closer, letting his mouth wander here and there against your neck.
“My hand is nothing compared to you” he grins between kisses. You shift to the side, still pressed close to him, your hand sliding down his torso and stomach to eventually reach under his boxers. He lets out a lewd groan when your hand closes around him, his nose nestling behind your ear as you start to stroke him slowly.
“My hand better?” you ask, your other hand cupping the back of his head as he breathes out against the skin of your neck, the brush of his lips warm against your skin. He hums approvingly, thumbs rubbing at either side of your hips; he always has to touch you one way or another, no matter the situation. His mouth always has to be occupied too; the brush of his lips ignites a warmth within you as he leaves faint kisses under your ear and down your neck to your collarbone, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he bucks softly into your touch.
“Feels so good baby” he mumbles, a loud moan leaving his mouth and his eyes squeezing shut when you twist your hand just the way he likes. “Fuck” he sighs, “You’re gonna get me off like that?”
“Got a problem with that commander?” you scoff in disbelief as you tease his slit with your thumb, your hand in his hair tugging on it so you can see his face.
He sighs a soft moan, his lust-blown eyes darting up to you. “No but– Fuck– I’d like to get inside you before I remember I actually have responsibilities even on my days off” he declares in a tone he knows by experience you can’t resist, his hand shifting to your thigh, caressing it up and down.
You sigh, “You’re so impatient it’s actually terrifying.” you say as you pull your hand out of the single piece of clothing covering him, made too tight now. “You should consider yourself lucky I can’t say no to anything you ask of me” he watches with a sly smile as you rid yourself of your underwear, sliding off his own before you move back to straddle him.
“I do consider myself lucky” he grins as he looks you up and down, his gaze full of love as he runs his hands up and down your thighs; his fingers are calloused from pushing blaster triggers and hitting the control panel buttons of ships, but the gesture is overflowing with affection. “Look at you” he croons. “C’mon babe,” he playfully swats your thigh as he shifts to get more comfortable on the bed. “Save an X-wing, ride a pilot” he teases, drawing a stupid chuckle out of you.
He huffs out a sigh of relief when you lower yourself down onto his cock, biting onto his bottom lip once you're fully seated as he looks down at where you're connected.
He frowns, looking back up at you when you don't move after that. “Something wrong?”
“No” you declare, not offering him any other explanation. He chuckles, confused as to why you're staying still over his lap, not moving an inch.
“What then. What are you doing babe” you try to hold back from smirking as you see him grow impatient, his fingers softly kneading the meat of your thighs, trying to make you roll your hips over him. “Move”
“No” you shake your head with an insolent smile. “You're inside me, that's it, that's what you wanted” he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, throwing his head back the same way he does when you crack him a shitty joke; he's not sure he's patient enough to really enjoy this kind of joke right at this moment. “We have all morning Poe” you whine, leaning over to sink your face into the crook of his neck and leave a trail of kisses that follow along his necklace.
“Fine” he grunts softly, his arm wrapping around you to let his hand rest against your back.
A surprised, sharp yelp escapes you when he – without warning – maneuvers and flips you around, making you land on your back; all that training happens to be useful in bed, after all. Your eyes squeeze shut when he pushes into you, the stretch of him unfamiliar again after what seemed to be ages.
“Three weeks baby, three weeks” he rams his hips into yours, tucking his face into your shoulder. “I don't have all morning”
You cup the back of his neck, nails softly digging in his skin as you hold onto him tight, your legs wrapping around him; he’s rutting into you like you’re gonna slip away from him, escape like smoke curling around his fingers and fading into oblivion. “Missed this so much,” he sighs into your ear, his words slightly scattered by the force of his movements. “Missed you so much”
You want to give him your reciprocation, but all that comes out of you is a broken whine when he manages to reach deeper inside you; your hands bury into his curls, slightly tugging on them in response, drawing the same kind of wrecked moan out of him.
“F–Fuck okay” he chokes out after a sharp thrust. “Don’t do that if you want me to last”
“What if I don’t want you to last”
He scoffs. “Then we’ll have to fuck again because I can’t get enough of you” he declares, pressing his mouth against yours to kiss you sloppily, your hand cupping the side of his face as he continues to fuck into you, not giving up on his rhythm. He hums as he desperately licks into your mouth, his thrusts growing messy when you purposefully pull on his hair again. “Sweetheart I’m not kidding” he warns in a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re gonna make me lose it”
You brush away the strands of hair falling over his face, “Then you better hurry making me come” you tease, making him huff out a sincere laugh.
But there is no challenge Poe Dameron doesn’t take seriously.
He fucks into you soft and deep, not letting up until he has you writhing underneath him, staving off his own release for yours. It almost feels like you’re melting into the mattress when you start to feel it, your fingers tightening in Poe's hair as he babbles incoherently into your ear, so close to his own peak; he finally lets himself go when you’re there, his stifled moan into your ear when he releases inside you extending the momentary haze buzzing in your head.
It almost feels like you black out for a second; “Are you okay my love?” Poe asks concerned by your absent, weak blinks as his hand cups your face, his thumb gently tracing back and forth against your cheek.
You offer him a small nod, and he shoots you a smile before kissing your forehead and jumping out of bed, coming back later with a washcloth to clean you up.
Then everything feels quiet again. The soft heaving of your breathing as his head rests over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours, the soft tickle of his fingers tracing circles and random shapes over any piece of bare skin he finds over you.
“I missed you too,” you declare in a weak mutter. “I didn’t say it back earlier.”
You don’t see his smile, but you know it is there as he leaves a kiss over the surface of your tummy. He hums softly as you absent-mindedly play with his hair.
“I can't wait for this war to be over.” he admits. “We'll settle on Yavin, in a nice house not too far from my dad's,” he exhales softly through his nose at the idea of it all before he continues, “We'll have mornings to ourselves, like this, and we will have breakfast in our backyard where we’ll grow all kinds of plants and trees from all over the galaxy” he smiles, earning a sweet, longing chuckle from you that seems to still in the air. He pauses, waits for a moment before he says it–
“I want to grow old with you.”
It’s in these moments that time feels like it slows down, but Poe sometimes wishes he could put this galaxy to a pause just so he could have more moments like these with you.
Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee
***
This.
This shit, right here.
If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?
You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.
din djarin x female reader, mechanic!reader (no y/n)
summary: Din Djarin's ship is in need of intense repairs, and he lands in Peli's hangar for help. The witty mechanic assisting Peli with the work might be too enticing and seductive for Din to ignore.
note: this is filth. plain and simple. have you ever thought about fucking din in his ship? me too--so i wrote a fic.
read on ao3 | fic masterlist
Peli shielded her eyes from Tatooine’s blazing twin suns to watch the pre-Empire ship that was landing in her hanger, its engines roaring. She grinned as Din Djarin walked down its lowered ramp with Grogu in the satchel across his chest. He met her where she stood in the shaded tool shed, light bouncing off his armor and onto the curved ceiling.
“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon! But I’d never turn down a chance to see my little buddy!”
Grogu chirped at her and looked up at Din, wiggling around. His helmet tilted back slightly and he sighed, lifting the child out of the satchel and handing him to Peli. He popped his hand on his hip and let the surrogate aunt coo and bounce his strange, adopted child in her arms, the large ears on his wrinkled green head perked up. Din knew Grogu liked visiting Peli—she coddled him almost more than Din did. Aside from that, he could never deny one of the few people he trusted Grogu’s affection.
“I need some repairs,” he stated, watching some of her droids hesitantly pick up toolboxes.
“Already? I just got you this while you were here helping the other guy! Should be as good as—well, not new, but as good as we got it when you were here.”
Din exhaled and crossed his arms. “I had a rough couple of bounties.”
“Pirates?”
“And raiders.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Well, thank the Force you made it here. If it’s really that bad, then I think I need to contact one of my guys.”
“I don—”
She waved a hand and shushed him. “Before you even start, I trust this one. She’s my go-to when I know that only using my droids won’t be enough.”
Din rolled his shoulders back and looked at Grogu, who tilted his head and gurgled. He sighed and simply said, “Fine.”
“Alright!” She smiled, her missing tooth adding to the charisma and brightness that she managed to bring no matter where she went. “I’ll go give her a quick call. Shouldn’t be long.”
Din took a step forward and extended his arms. Grogu’s tiny claws wiggled at Peli as she gently passed him off to Din, telling him she’d be back soon with a snack for him. Din cradled the child in his left arm and turned to face the hangar. His visor settled on a crate on the other side, his boots kicking up tiny puffs of sand as he walked over to it under the suns’ relentless rays. The clan of two was soon hidden again in the shade, Din’s knees cracking as he sat on the crate.
“What do you think, kid?” he asked, running his index finger along one of Grogu’s large, pointed ears.
“Patu,” Grogu chirped, tilting his head in response, his large brown eyes fixed on Din’s beskar helmet.
Din nodded in agreement and tried to ignore the heat of Tatooine even as he sat in the shade. He hoped that Peli’s contact would be over sooner rather than later and would help make short work of the damage his attackers had done before he blasted them to bits.
Din watched her with crossed arms as she inspected the ship with Peli, her brow furrowing when she noticed a dent or carbon scoring. She was constantly taking notes on her holopad, wiping her brow while she wrote and listened to Peli. At one point, she squatted down ten feet in front of where Din stood to point something out to Peli—a couple tubes were exposed, the metal covering completely blown off—and his eyes lingered too long on the wet spots that had already formed on her back before they trailed down further. He had to avert his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly.
After what felt like hours, she walked over to where he stood in the shade with Grogu at his feet, curiously peeking out from behind his calf. She chuckled at the green toddler, wiping her brow as her eyes settled onto his visor.
“So, Mando, you’ve had quite the adventure, huh?” she asked, the corner of her lips quirking up into a smile.
“You could say that.”
“I think the carbon scoring and the busted turbine in one of your engines said it for me,” she teased, looking down at her holopad and leaning on her hip. “Well, it might take until the suns set, but Peli and I can get it done. It’ll set you back, though.”
“I can pay.”
She looked up at him through her lashes and his heart quickened when he noticed her gaze linger on his utility built, grazing slowly back up to his helmet. “I’m sure you can.”
He hesitated, his pulse pounding in his ears as she smiled coyly at him. Din was good for the money—and whatever else she desired from him.
She finally broke her gaze, turning over her shoulder to wave at Peli and give her a thumbs up. Peli nodded and started rounding her droids up and yelling at them to pick up their tools and hustle for her best customer. When she turned back around to face Din, he focused on how soft her lips looked as she flashed him yet another killer smile. He tried his best not to let his eyes get too greedy taking in her figure, but he couldn’t help stop himself from watching a bead of sweat travel down her neck and across the ridge of her collarbone, slipping into her cleavage. A heat rushed throughout his body, and it wasn’t from the brutal midday heat.
“Well, um…I’ll get to it then.” She rubbed the back of her neck and took a step back towards the tool shed. “Shouldn’t be long, Mando. I’ll try not to keep you waiting.”
Din stared at her as she turned and walked away, his attention stolen by the way her long brown cargo pants perfectly outlined her ass.
Grogu’s chirps snapped him out of his trance, and he picked his son up, letting him nestle into the bend of his arm.
“You hungry?” he asked, looking down at his son. “Me too.”
After taking Grogu to a nearby market for a meal and ration restock, he arrived back to the hangar as the suns were setting. The sky was turning a light shade of pink, purple melting into it as dusk approached. He saw Peli’s droids wiping down different parts of his ship with polishing rags, their binary chatter filling the empty evening air.
“Make that hunk’a junk sparkle!” Peli yelled, her hands on her hips.
“Thought you said my ship was in the best condition you’d ever seen for what it was.”
She jumped around in surprise, her unique smile lighting up the hangar as he stepped into it from the entryway. “Mando! You’re back right in time. Droids are polishing her up, and she’s finishing up one last thing with one of the guns.”
Din nodded, feeling Grogu wiggle in the satchel. “Can I set these things down in the hull?” he asked, lifting the bags of rations—and a few special treats Grogu had waved into Din’s basket with his powers—he carried in his hands.
“Go right ahead! But before you do—” Peli ran in front of him and held her hands out. “Lemme have the little womp rat! I gotta show him how to kick butt at cards.”
Din heard Grogu babble up at him, and he sighed, setting the heavy bags down. Those eyes were his biggest weakness. He gently took the satchel off, handing the gurgling bundle off to a very excited Peli. He watched her walk away with a spring her step, responding to Grogu’s chirps with colorful commentary. He shook his head and chuckled under the helmet. Something told him Grogu would leave Tatooine even morespoiled than the last time they’d visited.
He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp lowered. Din picked the bags up again, his muscles straining with the weight, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle; Tatooine just made every physical task more tiring than it was to begin with. He walked up and into his ship, heading over to the ration crate. Din dropped the bags in with a grunt, then put his hands on his hips, satisfied. After raising the ramp and closing the ship up, he dropped to one knee and sifted through the bags, looking for Grogu’s special treats so he could set them aside.
“You’ve got quite a unique ship, Mando.”
Din immediately drew his blaster, his head snapping up so he could better his aim at the woman in front of him.
“Whoa! It’s me!” she said, throwing her hands up. Her clothes had splotches of dirt and grease on them, the palms of her working gloves dirtied as well. There was a smear of grease on her cheek, and it wrinkled when she smiled at him. The sweat on her brow and under her eyes sent a chill down his spine; it was oddly enticing, highlighting features he hadn’t noticed earlier.
He should know better by now when it came to Peli and trusting people. It only got him into trouble he hadn’t wanted in the first place.
And this mechanic was the epitome of trouble, her seductive smile and enticing body only fueling the growing fire within him.
He squeezed his blaster, the pinch of his glove snapping him back to the present threat. “How did you get in here?” Din asked, his voice darkening.
“I was fixing the gun and had to open the belly up a bit to get to some wires. I ended up over by the privy.” When Din didn’t lower his blaster, she quickly added, “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything! You do a good enough job messing her up on your own.”
Din answered her quip with silence. Her smile fell, and she looked down at the floor. He kept his blaster raised only so he could keep her in front of him—he wanted to take in every part of her that he didn’t get to earlier, from her messy hair to her scuffed-up boots. The cargo pants she wore were now stained with dirt and grease, and they hugged her perfectly in the thighs—and he knew from earlier that they made her ass look delicious, too. They were sloppily cuffed over leather lace-up boots, but he paid no mind to them. His mind was focused solely on how fast he could undo the belt cinched around her waist and gain access to the skin hidden under fabric and mesh. The thought alone was enough to send a chill down his spine and make his cock twitch; she was totally clothed and yet his head grew heavy with lust.
Din had to wrench his eyes up and away from the belt; any longer, and he knew his cock would grow visibly hard. The gray sleeveless shirt she wore clung to her body, grease and other random splotches lightly patterning it. His eyes landed on her chest, and he noticed that she was breathing a little heavier than she had been earlier, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm driven by nerves and, maybe, anticipation. The straps of the sleeveless top rested on top of darker ones, which led him to believe that she was wearing some sort of bra; Din made a mental note to take care of that when the time came. He’d been too busy studying the way sweat dripped into her cleavage to have noticed it earlier. Even in the cool hull of the ship, her bare arms and shoulders glistened with sweat. Her gloved hands were trembling so softly that Din wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been imagining them clutching his armor.
Under his scrutiny, she felt her skin tingle. Her heart was starting to speed up, banging against her ribs, pumping her blood full of adrenaline. Underneath the anxiety, though, was a hint of excitement. Something about the void of the visor sucked her right in, dropping her into a black pool of desire—desire.
He tilted his helmet up at her, and her eyes caught the movement. He stood and holstered his blaster, and she dropped her hands, a sigh escaping her lips. Din took a step closer, invading her space. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him through her lashes. Din clenched his fists when she bit her bottom lip and looked down at the ground again. He almost wanted her to see his growing erection, wantedher to see that she was close to pushing him past the point of no return.
“You’re a man of few words,” she quietly remarked, her heart fluttering a bit when he tilted his head to the side.
“I’m more of a man of action.”
His smooth voice ran over her like water after a long day, seeping into her bones—but his voice was pure gasoline, lighting her insides on fire instead of quenching her thirst for more. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she gingerly placed a gloved hand on his chest, the metal dividing them. Din didn’t even care that he’d have to polish it and work a little harder to get the grease and grime off it; his thoughts were clouded with her, desire starting to overtake him.
“Wanna show me, Mando?”
Her sultry invitation sent flames through his veins. She yelped when his hands pushed her back into the wall near the ladder to the cockpit; her coy smile up at him and soft nod let him know that she liked it. The force of him pushing her back and pressing her against the cold metal wall added fuel to the growing fire he’d lit within her, and she squirmed when she felt a throb between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip. Din wished he could be the one tugging on it with his teeth, but he’d have to settle with the show she was giving him, her lovely face’s demure expression beginning to melt and reveal the neediness below the surface.
Din used her need to his advantage, crowding into her, slotting his left thigh between her legs. He could hear her soft pants, his helmet close enough that the hot exhales fogged up the beskar. The way her legs shifted to welcome his leg gave her growing arousal away. He chuckled, and she immediately perked up, her eyes opening and centering back on his visor. Her pupils were blown, her lips gently parted, sweat gathering again on her forehead because of the Mandalorian pressing up against her. Din drank it all in, his lips parted underneath his helmet, eyes heavy with want.
She whined and looked up when his hands trailed slowly down from her shoulders to her chest, the rough leather dragging across the sensitive, sticky skin.
“Do you want more?”
Her eyes dropped back to his visor. She nodded enthusiastically, whispering yes please touch me more as Din traced a finger back up to her shoulder, his cock aching in response to her plea. When he took a small step back, she whimpered, already feeling an ache at the loss of his thigh and the pressure from his armor.
She kept her eyes on his helmet, watching it turn to the left as he toyed with the straps on her shoulder, pulling them up with two fingers.
“Take these—” He released the straps, the snap against her skin making her whine, “—Off.”
He took his hands off her, taking a few more steps back so he could take all of her in. He dropped a hand over the bulge in his pants and roughly palmed it through his pants as she lifted the dirty shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. Din choked and his cock throbbed when she pulled her banded bra off, finally revealing her tits. He noticed her nipples pebble almost immediately, accenting the soft skin she’d been hiding from him all this time.
“Fuck,” he growled, closing the short distance between them with heavy, needy steps.
She giggled when he lifted her off her feet, moving her back to the wall, closer to the ladder this time. He set her down with a low groan that sent electric shocks throughout her body and heat to her cheeks. She closed her eyes, her mind racing as much as her heart was. She wanted to run her hands across his body, finger the uncovered parts of him, work him and unravel him as much as he was doing it to her.
She was also perfectly happy to let the Mandalorian grip her skin hard and tight, make her hiss when he pinched her nipples between gloved fingers, and to let him press into her, the cold metal of his armor leaving shallow indents in her skin. His roughness enticed her and made her burn even more, the heat starting to pool in her core, more dripping down with every squeeze of her ass and heady groan that escaped his lips.
The clang of metal hitting metal disrupted her thoughts of peeling the armor off piece by piece, and she looked down to see the Mandalorian on his knees, his helmet fixed on her face. When his hands came to grip her shins, she closed her eyes and let the back of her head hit the wall, arousal pooling low in her core and dampening her panties. She giggled when one of his hands squeezed her thigh, almost missing the low groan that slipped out of him.
“So fucking sexy,” he purred, his hands now running up and down her legs, the pads of his fingers digging in and applying pressure.
Her knees trembled, and the whine that slipped out of her mouth made him pause for a moment. Din Djarin wasn’t normally greedy, but in this moment, he wanted to own every part of her. Every part of her demanded attention, and he was determined to be the only one who could tame and satiate her. He wanted to be the one she thought of when she touched herself, the one she compared every other person to, the one who drove her crazy with lust.
Din knew exactly where to strike next to make his purpose clear.
He looked up at her, the skin of her torso glistening with sweat, her breasts tempting him and teasing him. Din edged his right hand down to her knee, and his left resumed stroking up and down. With no ceremony or grace, he looped his arm under her left leg and lifted it, adjusting his position and her leg so her knee came to rest on his shoulder, the cool metal of his pauldron slowly seeping through the fabric of her pants. She gasped and her hands clutched the wall, her left landing on a rung of the ladder. Din smiled under his helmet at the sight of her, half naked and unconsciously rocking her hips towards his helmet.
He cupped his left hand against her hidden sex, and she whined, pressing down for some sort of release. His quiet laughter at her neediness only made her cunt ache more, his roughness only turning her on more.
“Please, touch me,” she panted, her knuckles white and skin sensitive.
“I already am.” When she groaned at his snarky answer, he abruptly pressed the palm of his hand against her with more pressure, whisking the irritation right out of her mind. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Her head felt light as he began to slowly rub his hand back and forth, the broad pressure and sensation making her wetter by the second. She managed to collect herself and mumble between pants and whimpers, “Please…Please touch my…touch my pussy.”
“Good girl.”
The purred praise made her body shake and the whine that she released was music to Din’s ears. Under the helmet, a devilish grin spread across his face as he lowered her leg off his shoulder and then quickly undid her belt, throwing it to the side, the tools attached to it clattering on the metal ground. All she could do was watch him stand up and yank her pants and underwear down to her boots. She hissed when cold air hit her hot skin, her naked body on display to the Mandalorian. Leather traced down her legs as she drew her arms back in to her body. She tore her gloves off and let her bare hands find their way to her tits, massaging them and slipping over the sweat that had gathered on her skin.
“Wish I could just cut these in two,” she heard him growl before forcing her to spread her legs as much as she could.
“Gotta make it challenging somehow,” she teased.
He nodded, his left arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her off the wall a bit. His left leg came to rest between hers, and she whimpered when he pushed against her right leg, forcing her to stay spread open for him. Din’s free hand came to rest on her cheek before pushing her hands out of the way so he could roughly massage her tits, the force of it all making her melt. He could smell her—sweat, grease, lust—as he bent his neck and nudged his helmet against her head, pleased when her hands gripped his wrist, begging him to explore her further.
He straightened up, his helmet once again focused on her, her wide eyes and sweaty brow giving him a primal satisfaction that rushed to his cock. He saw her eyes dart to the obvious bulge, and as her hands started to make a dive for it, he clicked his tongue and snatched her wrists in his hand.
“Not yet,” he said in response to her whine. “Keep massaging those pretty tits of yours for me, baby.”
She nodded, immediately doing as told. When he interrupted her, taking one of her hands in his, she gave him a quizzical look, catching her breath. “Something wrong?”
“Take the glove off for me, pretty girl.”
Her plush lips spread into an eager smile, and she quickly yanked his glove off. Before he could work any lower, she looked right into his visor and gripped his wrist, bringing his index and middle fingers to her lips. Din sharply inhaled when she took them into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them, carving patterns only she knew into his skin. His cock was heavy and ready, and Din had to bite the inside of his cheek so he didn’t just fuck her right where she stood. Her pretty lips wrapped around his fingers, and she moaned at the salty taste of his skin, knowing exactly where his fingers were going next when she took them out of her mouth with a pop.
Din pulled his hand out of her weak grip, reaching between her legs and sliding between her folds. He focused on her the entire time, his helmet never focused on anything other than her face, perspiration sitting at her hairline. Noticing hers made him suddenly feel the sweat dripping down his neck and temples, physical proof of the heat from his motion and of the fire within him.
When his fingers graced over her clit, she jumped and hissed, arching and bucking into him. He pushed further back, and when his fingers grazed over her slit, a loud whine filled the hull, a moan trailing after it when he slipped a digit into her. He exhaled a gentle laugh at her neediness as he listened to her begs for more, more fill the air. He could feel her walls already starting to tighten, and he couldn’t deny her any longer.
Din slowly pulled his finger out of her slick cunt, trailing it back up and adding a second to rub slow circles on the sensitive bud. She keened and pressed her hands against his shoulders at his achingly slow touch, her fingers clutching at his pauldrons. Heat ran through her, sweat dripping down her forehead and starting to collect behind her knees as she chased her climax. The Mandalorian’s fingers worked her clit perfectly, her achingly empty cunt starting to tighten and flutter. He sensed her growing desperation and traced his fingers back to her slit, the pads of them circling and dragging the slick that leaked out of her around her entrance. She whined even louder, moaning and begging and bucking her hips forward.
“You’ve been so good for me,” Din purred, his head light. “And you know what good girls get?”
She opened her eyes and shook her head.
“They get to come for me.”
As Din spoke, he slid two thick fingers inside of her, her gasp making him grin in satisfaction. Her eyes went wide, and then she squeezed them shut, her entire body tensing up. Din pumped his fingers, his left hand splaying across her back to hold her steady and support her as she reached her peak. Her mouth fell open, her eyelids fluttering. He curled his fingers and stroked back and forth in a certain spot he’d noticed had been making her cry out, focusing all his attention there. Din was rewarded with a strangled cry and felt her tighten around him, even her legs getting tense.
“Look at me.”
Din’s command broke through her ecstasy. Her eyes opened and focused on him. A bead of sweat trailed down her neck—he wished he could lick it up with his tongue.
“Don’t hold back,” Din grunted, “Be a good girl and come for me.”
She kept her eyes open as her jaw dropped, a silent scream escaping her open mouth as her climax set her on fire. Her legs shook and Din licked his lips as her cunt pulsed and contracted around his fingers, dragging his fingers against that spot one last time before pulling them out. Her chest heaved up and down, waves of pleasure and flames of want still clashing within her. She whined at the empty feeling, then yelped in surprise when he slid his fingers into her mouth, her orgasm still coating them.
“Taste yourself.” Din’s helmet tilted up slightly as he slid them into her mouth all the way to the knuckle. She stared at him as her tongue went to work, eagerly licking his fingers clean. Her head was heavy with pleasure, and she worked fast so her empty cunt could be filled again.
“Good fucking girl,” Din growled. He slid his fingers out of her mouth and placed his hand on her waist. He took a moment to take in her sweaty skin, his eyes scanning her again, plotting his next move.
He wanted that tongue on his cock, but he’d tortured himself enough.
From the look in her eyes, Din could tell she knew it too.
Under the helmet, he spotted two crates stacked on top of each other to his left. His eyes went back to her, and before she had time to process what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. She squealed, stumbling when he roughly set her down. After she caught her balance, he pushed her lower back down, forcing her to bend over. The slight arch of her back skillfully presented the thighs and ass she’d kept hidden under the cargo pants; the seductive sight of it caused Din to already start to unravel.
“How’s the view?”
Her cheeky question made him laugh as he quickly undid his belt and dropped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, the tip leaking sticky beads of fluid. He stroked himself, giving her plump ass a smack with his gloved hand and enjoying the way it moved. She recoiled and hissed at the sting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her, the fire in her core sparked and growing again.
“I love it,” he said, accenting his statement with another spank.
He pressed the fat head of his cock against her slit, soaking it in her arousal and groaning at how wet she still was. Din guided his cock up and down through her folds with his bare hand, biting his lip when he felt her juices start to coat his fingers. Slowly, he started to rock his hips into her, his restrained moans joining her shameless begging as his cock glided back and forth from her slick entrance to her clit and back again at a faster pace. He placed his hands on her hips and massaged the sensitive skin, enjoying the warmth of it. It was torture for both, flames engulfing them and demanding attention. She gasped and mewled—Mando, Mando, fuck—and pressed her ass back as much as she could just to feel more of him. The desire to be full of him was overriding everything else within her, and Din had teased himself long enough.
“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore,” he growled, his fingers digging into her flesh.
He slid into her cunt, her walls still slick from the orgasm he pulled out of her. Her moan echoed in the hull and bounced around in his helmet, a sound he never wanted to forget. A moan slipped from Din’s mouth after he buried himself to the hilt inside of her, a strangled groan and growl from deep in his throat.
“Stars, you fill me up so fucking good,” she mewled, a sharp thrust eliciting a high-pitched whimper immediately after.
Din’s brow furrowed and sweat dripped down his temples. He was already close to spilling, his cock throbbing as he fucked her, his speed increasing after her praise. The obscene sound of skin slapping skin reverberated in the hull, the canvas that they painted with their moans and whines. Her ass bounced beautifully with every thrust, and the way his greedy gloved hand massaged the meaty flesh sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body.
She had never been fucked like this—so primal, rough, fast—and it made her cunt clamp around him again. When he placed his bare hand on the small of her back and pushed down, pressing her into the crate, she gasped, her fingers flexing out for stability. The new angle allowed his cock to drive into her, filling her to the brim even more than he already had. She whined and her cries grew louder, finally turning her head to try to see the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his helmet was tilted back, his groans so loud that they overpowered the vocoder in his helmet.
He was raw and burning and harsh. The way he fucked her without mercy made her eyes roll back into her head; he impaled her on his length and she loved it. Every thrust was pushing her closer to the edge again, and she made sure he knew it. She twisted her arm to find the wrist on her back and gripped it. The contact caused his hips to stutter briefly as she started to meet his thrusts with needy movements of her own, pushing back with her ass to chase her growing orgasm. He was lavishing her with aggressive attention, slamming into her just to prove his point, driving her further into pleasure. Her mouth fell open, eyebrows scrunching together as his cock tore through her and shocked her entire body.
“Please don’t stop—Mando—fuck, I-I’m so fucking close, I’m right fucking there,” she whined, moaning Mando over and over, a prayer that flooded his entire body with fire, shooting electricity into his veins.
She moaned and her walls fluttered around him, the movement making his head light and his breath quicken. He fucked into her faster, harder, relentlessly so he could follow with her. Din’s grip on her tightened as his thrusts became erratic. She was already committing this to memory—his sharp thrusts, the modulated groans and growls, the full feeling in her core—just so she could pleasure herself to it again.
There was only one piece missing—one thing that would send her toppling over the edge. She forced her lips to close again, willing her muscles to work so she could speak coherently.
“Breed me,” she groaned, twisting to look at him with drool dripping down her chin.
The sight alone nearly tipped Din over the edge, but he held back just to fuck her a few moments more. He wanted to selfishly relish in the way he’d made her look, all messy and subdued. Tamed. And now, she wanted to be bred, claimed.
She had pushed him to the edge, made his cock throb against her walls. Din gasped and grunted as he kept fucking her, knowing he couldn’t deny himself much longer.
“I wanna be fucking leaking after this,” she growled, gritting her teeth. “Breed me, Mando.”
Din threw his head back at her demand, screwing his eyes shut as he felt himself tip over the edge. She growled when he yanked his hand out of her grasp to grip her hip, slamming her back onto his cock. Their animalistic grunts and moans reached a crescendo as Din felt her cunt clench around him right as he erupted, his cock entirely sheathed inside of her. Din groaned with every pulse of his cock, the tight grip he had on her hips slowly loosening. She was gasping, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.
Din pulled out with a hiss, and he spread her cheeks with his hands, stepping back and tilting his head. His seed was already spilling out of her hole, and she gasped when he gently fingered it back inside of her.
“Can’t waste a single drop of this,” he murmured, licking his lips.
Her small laugh was muffled. He stepped back and gingerly sheathed his cock as she slowly stood up on shaking legs.
“Your ship is a real—ah—piece of work,” she said as she tugged her pants back on, using too much force and irritating her still-sensitive cunt.
“You may have mentioned that,” Din replied.
Din watched as she walked over to her discarded shirt and bra, smiling to himself when he noticed how her gait was a little more awkward than it had been before he bent her over and fucked her senseless. The proof of it was on his fingers, but he destroyed the sweet evidence with a quick wipe of a cloth lying in his rack. The hole she’d climbed out of was nearby, her tools forgotten about. He looked at it, then at her. Sweat glistened on her chest and forehead, the smear of grease on her cheek had disappeared—smudged off on the crate as he fucked her, most likely.
She shot him a shy smile and turned around to pick up her tool belt, facing him again as she strapped it back on. Her work gloves lay near the ladder, and she bent over to grab them. His gaze made her skin feel hot and nervous, but excited. Her body was already begging for more, the fire still raging despite the water thrown on it.
Her fingers toyed with the gloves, and she tapped the toe of one scuffed boot into the metal floor. Her eyes were focused on the floor, teeth worrying her bottom lip. She slowly looked back up at the Mandalorian, trying to push back thoughts of their animalistic sex and the dull throbbing of her cunt.
“Maybe you could use a mechanic,” she shrugged, a playful smile teasing across her lips.
