Fics! Porn!
So I was trying to write drabbles again, and you know how I can't write anything short? Well, one of these is over 1000 words! Also, many apologies to lejic for not having finished that table sex thing yet, but here's the two I have at the moment:
(Generic disclaimer: none of these characters are mine.)
spessartine requested R/S fight-sex, and somehow it has turned into the dirtiest sex-scene I've ever written:
Remus/Sirius, NC-17, 1024 words
Tired of the conversation, Remus growled at Sirius’ last comment, then slapped him hard across the face.
Once he’d done it, he’d been unable to remember what was so large a problem that the only solution his brain had found was physical violence, but it had been done and therefore could not be taken back.
Possibly his brain had not been involved at all.
Seconds later, he was pinned back against the wood-panelled wall and Sirius was hissing ‘I fucking hate you, Lupin,’ harshly in his ear, before lifting a hand and delivering a sharp, retaliatory slap.
Rather harder than he’d done it himself, Remus noted, a hard, open slap, upside his cheek with the thick, solid heel of his palm. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, I want to fucking hurt you,’ Sirius added, jerking Remus’ chin up and applying his teeth to the soft, sensitive flesh there.
Remus grunted, strainedly, and, oh god, but that shouldn’t feel so good. ‘Then go for it, you fucking jealous bastard, do what you like.’
‘I will,’ Sirius hissed, ‘I bloody will’, he clarified, falling, strangely, to his knees, and biting desperately at Remus’ belly, fingers dug under the waistband of his trousers. ‘Because you are supposed to be mine, and instead you are chatting to other boys, which is completely not-‘
He stopped, mid-rant, because a rash of flaring anger had shot up inside Remus, and he shoved hard at Sirius’ shoulders; stopping his insane, unfair argument, stopping him so possessively marking Remus with his teeth.
Sirius held on to Remus’ hips and they both went down together.
Not wanting to lose this time -this argument in particular was important, Remus felt- he immediately attempted to wrench his body free, jerking away from where Sirius had rolled on top of him and begun scratching and biting.
Remus bit back, livid at the unreasonableness of Sirius; for Sirius to get so jealous over nothing, to get so jealous of anything at all, when Remus was always so dazed with lust for him, so constantly distracted from anything else the moment Sirius was near and could be touched. How, he thought as he threw a hand off his neck, how could Sirius be so blind to every frequent indication of Remus’ own desperate, controlling behaviour?
An elbow jabbed his hip again and he snarled, kicked Sirius’ shin again, and tried to free his left arm from under Sirius’ shoulder. ‘See,’ Sirius gasped, kicking back and squashing Remus’ arm harder with his shoulder, ‘you’re mine and that faggot is not allowed to talk to you.’
‘He is,’ Remus insisted, pained, ‘you flirt with girls, for fuck’s sake.’ When girls talked to Sirius, Remus would be there, albeit with a calm look about him, but still also with a palm firmly rested in the small of his back.
Sirius struggled, hip-bone dragging across Remus’ belly and groin. Oh fuck. He gave Sirius an extra-hard punch in the side, followed by an extra-sharp strike of fingernails under his shirt for doing this to him. There was something disgustingly wrong about having such a throbbing hard-on when you were supposedly fighting with your boyfriend. ‘So what? Girls don’t- ah, you fucking- they don’t matter.’
‘Well then. I can talk to whoever I want.’
Sirius clamped both hands around Remus’ arm, bending it suddenly upwards and trying to force Remus onto his front. ‘No, you fucking can’t; you’re mine, and I’ve a good mind to turn you over right now and prove that!’
Remus froze, half dragged up to his knees, half turned away from his boyfriend.
‘Oh.’ Sirius stopped too, though his fists gripped tighter. ‘No, Remus, I didn’t mean- I wouldn’t, I didn’t mean that I’d-‘
Remus closed his eyes, breaths shuddering rapidly in and out. ‘Do it.’
‘No, Moony, I’m sorry. Sorry-‘
‘Please... Please, I-- I want it.’
Sirius seemed to hesitate, his own breathing also terribly laboured.
Remus snatched up Sirius’ left hand, pulling the arm around his own body and pressed the palm over his erection. ‘Understand?’
Sirius had pushed him face-first into the floor, wrenched down his trousers, and had two fingers twisted inside of him, before he even had time to catch another breath. ‘You really want-‘
‘Yes, oh yes.’
‘Fuck,’ Sirius muttered, scrabbling at his own clothing with his free hand as Remus propped himself up on his elbows.
Remus whined as Sirius worked his way inside rather roughly. This should hurt, Remus told himself, it shouldn’t feel so good. ‘Harder,’ he whispered, ‘just really hard.’
Sirius cried out at that, thrusting deeper, and emitting soft little whimpers as he leant in to sink his teeth into Remus’ shoulder.
Remus groaned, leaning his head to rest on his forearm, and letting his other hand drift down and under to begin to stroke himself.
‘Let me-‘
‘No. Just get the fuck on with it, you bastard.’
‘Oh, fuck, yes-‘ Sirius thrust in deep as he spoke, then sped up his movements, sliding deftly in and out of Remus, the fingers of one hand clutched painfully to Remus’ thigh. ‘Remus, I can’t-‘
‘Just-‘ But he couldn’t remember what he’d been going to say, and he squeezed his hand tighter around his own cock, already too close to care. ‘Just… harder.’
‘Yes…’ Sirius was gasping with the exertion by this point, both hands braced on the floor, and thrusting so hard that Remus knew they were both about to collapse, but not until-
‘Oh --yes...’ Remus cried out, not usually one to be loud, but unable to help shouting this time, his orgasm hitting him hard as Sirius thrust in deeper and deeper and faster to catch up.
‘I-‘ was all Sirius managed to say as he came, panting harshly in Remus’ ear.
And they collapsed to the floor.
‘Fucking hell,’ Sirius whispered as they shuffled around, arranging their clothes back.
‘Still hate me?’ Remus asked, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s chin.
Sirius smirked. ‘I love you. I fucking love you.’
And Remus couldn’t help but think that this was an entirely inappropriate moment to say that for the first time.
For ramen_addict:
Hermione/Harry/Ron, PG13, 594 words
She liked the feeling of power. It wasn’t something she liked to admit to herself, but it was true.
Being Head Girl wasn’t about the power, it was about the rules. Keeping the school running smoothly, keeping the students happy, about enforcing the Headmaster’s wishes and trying to change things for the better.
But this, this, was about the power.
She stood, chairing the prefects’ meeting, talking about the new rules for detentions and lights out and Hogsmeade safety, and people were hardly listening, or if they were, they weren’t doing it with any real interest. But she could hardly blame them, when, for once, she was barely paying attention herself.
Ron wasn’t even listening at all.
He was slung casually into a sofa in the corner of the meeting room, one leg hooked over the arm of the chair, his eyes on Hermione, but his mind wandering wickedly.
She was trying not to let her eyes touch on him any more than would be considered normal.
He had that smile on, the one that always made it difficult to concentrate, not his usual, vacant, lecture-listening smile, but a careful, sharp half-smirk, and Hermione shuddered at little as she detailed Professor McGonagall’s new rules about behaviour in the Great Hall.
Sitting next to her, behind their desk, she could see, just out of the corner of her eye, the Head Boy shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Of course, Harry would have noticed too; he and Ron often seemed capable of reading each other’s minds, especially when it came to things like this.
‘So, does anyone have any questions?’ she asked the room, perhaps a little early, a little hurriedly, but she could feel the relief of the assembled prefects, and on a warm spring day like this no-one could blame them for wishing to be outside, once they had their duties done, naturally.
For once she actually almost winced when a hand was raised, then winced again as a different hand rested gently on her thigh.
‘Yes, Ernie?’ she asked, the words spoken very carefully, as Harry’s hand moved a little, the action hidden by the thick wooden overhang on the desk.
And, oh no, Ron’s smile had got just ever-so-slightly wickeder.
She kept her serious, capable, responsible facial expression as she listened to Ernie’s question about the behaviour of the first-years in the library, even as Harry’s hand slid further, slid almost between her thighs, tenting her robes inwards between her legs. And she even managed to hold her voice sure and even as she answered, despite those fingers brushing their way over her hip then around, to the small of her back and down.
‘So it that all? Anything you wish to add, Harry?’
He startled, tearing his eyes away from Ron. ‘Er, nah, you’re okay,’ he replied, attempting a charming grin and the assembled company tittered with relief.
She pursed her lips, feigning annoyance. Oh, how had she come to this? ‘Okay then. Thank you everyone.’
Her audience stumbled quickly towards the door at the back of the room, very happy to be freed. Ron got to his feet too, once the last person had left. ‘Lock the door, shall I?’
She tried very hard to stay angry. Ron wended his way across the room to stand on her other side, lacing his fingers between Harry’s, which were still rested on her arse. ‘I’m very annoyed with both of you.’
‘Really?’ Harry asked, squeezing his hand tighter.
‘But you’ll save that for later, won’t you,’ Ron told her.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled, as two pairs of lips homed in on her neck.
(Generic disclaimer: none of these characters are mine.)
spessartine requested R/S fight-sex, and somehow it has turned into the dirtiest sex-scene I've ever written:
Remus/Sirius, NC-17, 1024 words
Tired of the conversation, Remus growled at Sirius’ last comment, then slapped him hard across the face.
Once he’d done it, he’d been unable to remember what was so large a problem that the only solution his brain had found was physical violence, but it had been done and therefore could not be taken back.
Possibly his brain had not been involved at all.
Seconds later, he was pinned back against the wood-panelled wall and Sirius was hissing ‘I fucking hate you, Lupin,’ harshly in his ear, before lifting a hand and delivering a sharp, retaliatory slap.
Rather harder than he’d done it himself, Remus noted, a hard, open slap, upside his cheek with the thick, solid heel of his palm. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, I want to fucking hurt you,’ Sirius added, jerking Remus’ chin up and applying his teeth to the soft, sensitive flesh there.
Remus grunted, strainedly, and, oh god, but that shouldn’t feel so good. ‘Then go for it, you fucking jealous bastard, do what you like.’
‘I will,’ Sirius hissed, ‘I bloody will’, he clarified, falling, strangely, to his knees, and biting desperately at Remus’ belly, fingers dug under the waistband of his trousers. ‘Because you are supposed to be mine, and instead you are chatting to other boys, which is completely not-‘
He stopped, mid-rant, because a rash of flaring anger had shot up inside Remus, and he shoved hard at Sirius’ shoulders; stopping his insane, unfair argument, stopping him so possessively marking Remus with his teeth.
Sirius held on to Remus’ hips and they both went down together.
Not wanting to lose this time -this argument in particular was important, Remus felt- he immediately attempted to wrench his body free, jerking away from where Sirius had rolled on top of him and begun scratching and biting.
Remus bit back, livid at the unreasonableness of Sirius; for Sirius to get so jealous over nothing, to get so jealous of anything at all, when Remus was always so dazed with lust for him, so constantly distracted from anything else the moment Sirius was near and could be touched. How, he thought as he threw a hand off his neck, how could Sirius be so blind to every frequent indication of Remus’ own desperate, controlling behaviour?
An elbow jabbed his hip again and he snarled, kicked Sirius’ shin again, and tried to free his left arm from under Sirius’ shoulder. ‘See,’ Sirius gasped, kicking back and squashing Remus’ arm harder with his shoulder, ‘you’re mine and that faggot is not allowed to talk to you.’
‘He is,’ Remus insisted, pained, ‘you flirt with girls, for fuck’s sake.’ When girls talked to Sirius, Remus would be there, albeit with a calm look about him, but still also with a palm firmly rested in the small of his back.
Sirius struggled, hip-bone dragging across Remus’ belly and groin. Oh fuck. He gave Sirius an extra-hard punch in the side, followed by an extra-sharp strike of fingernails under his shirt for doing this to him. There was something disgustingly wrong about having such a throbbing hard-on when you were supposedly fighting with your boyfriend. ‘So what? Girls don’t- ah, you fucking- they don’t matter.’
‘Well then. I can talk to whoever I want.’
Sirius clamped both hands around Remus’ arm, bending it suddenly upwards and trying to force Remus onto his front. ‘No, you fucking can’t; you’re mine, and I’ve a good mind to turn you over right now and prove that!’
Remus froze, half dragged up to his knees, half turned away from his boyfriend.
‘Oh.’ Sirius stopped too, though his fists gripped tighter. ‘No, Remus, I didn’t mean- I wouldn’t, I didn’t mean that I’d-‘
Remus closed his eyes, breaths shuddering rapidly in and out. ‘Do it.’
‘No, Moony, I’m sorry. Sorry-‘
‘Please... Please, I-- I want it.’
Sirius seemed to hesitate, his own breathing also terribly laboured.
Remus snatched up Sirius’ left hand, pulling the arm around his own body and pressed the palm over his erection. ‘Understand?’
Sirius had pushed him face-first into the floor, wrenched down his trousers, and had two fingers twisted inside of him, before he even had time to catch another breath. ‘You really want-‘
‘Yes, oh yes.’
‘Fuck,’ Sirius muttered, scrabbling at his own clothing with his free hand as Remus propped himself up on his elbows.
Remus whined as Sirius worked his way inside rather roughly. This should hurt, Remus told himself, it shouldn’t feel so good. ‘Harder,’ he whispered, ‘just really hard.’
Sirius cried out at that, thrusting deeper, and emitting soft little whimpers as he leant in to sink his teeth into Remus’ shoulder.
Remus groaned, leaning his head to rest on his forearm, and letting his other hand drift down and under to begin to stroke himself.
‘Let me-‘
‘No. Just get the fuck on with it, you bastard.’
‘Oh, fuck, yes-‘ Sirius thrust in deep as he spoke, then sped up his movements, sliding deftly in and out of Remus, the fingers of one hand clutched painfully to Remus’ thigh. ‘Remus, I can’t-‘
‘Just-‘ But he couldn’t remember what he’d been going to say, and he squeezed his hand tighter around his own cock, already too close to care. ‘Just… harder.’
‘Yes…’ Sirius was gasping with the exertion by this point, both hands braced on the floor, and thrusting so hard that Remus knew they were both about to collapse, but not until-
‘Oh --yes...’ Remus cried out, not usually one to be loud, but unable to help shouting this time, his orgasm hitting him hard as Sirius thrust in deeper and deeper and faster to catch up.
‘I-‘ was all Sirius managed to say as he came, panting harshly in Remus’ ear.
And they collapsed to the floor.
‘Fucking hell,’ Sirius whispered as they shuffled around, arranging their clothes back.
‘Still hate me?’ Remus asked, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s chin.
Sirius smirked. ‘I love you. I fucking love you.’
And Remus couldn’t help but think that this was an entirely inappropriate moment to say that for the first time.
For ramen_addict:
Hermione/Harry/Ron, PG13, 594 words
She liked the feeling of power. It wasn’t something she liked to admit to herself, but it was true.
Being Head Girl wasn’t about the power, it was about the rules. Keeping the school running smoothly, keeping the students happy, about enforcing the Headmaster’s wishes and trying to change things for the better.
But this, this, was about the power.
She stood, chairing the prefects’ meeting, talking about the new rules for detentions and lights out and Hogsmeade safety, and people were hardly listening, or if they were, they weren’t doing it with any real interest. But she could hardly blame them, when, for once, she was barely paying attention herself.
Ron wasn’t even listening at all.
He was slung casually into a sofa in the corner of the meeting room, one leg hooked over the arm of the chair, his eyes on Hermione, but his mind wandering wickedly.
She was trying not to let her eyes touch on him any more than would be considered normal.
He had that smile on, the one that always made it difficult to concentrate, not his usual, vacant, lecture-listening smile, but a careful, sharp half-smirk, and Hermione shuddered at little as she detailed Professor McGonagall’s new rules about behaviour in the Great Hall.
Sitting next to her, behind their desk, she could see, just out of the corner of her eye, the Head Boy shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Of course, Harry would have noticed too; he and Ron often seemed capable of reading each other’s minds, especially when it came to things like this.
‘So, does anyone have any questions?’ she asked the room, perhaps a little early, a little hurriedly, but she could feel the relief of the assembled prefects, and on a warm spring day like this no-one could blame them for wishing to be outside, once they had their duties done, naturally.
For once she actually almost winced when a hand was raised, then winced again as a different hand rested gently on her thigh.
‘Yes, Ernie?’ she asked, the words spoken very carefully, as Harry’s hand moved a little, the action hidden by the thick wooden overhang on the desk.
And, oh no, Ron’s smile had got just ever-so-slightly wickeder.
She kept her serious, capable, responsible facial expression as she listened to Ernie’s question about the behaviour of the first-years in the library, even as Harry’s hand slid further, slid almost between her thighs, tenting her robes inwards between her legs. And she even managed to hold her voice sure and even as she answered, despite those fingers brushing their way over her hip then around, to the small of her back and down.
‘So it that all? Anything you wish to add, Harry?’
He startled, tearing his eyes away from Ron. ‘Er, nah, you’re okay,’ he replied, attempting a charming grin and the assembled company tittered with relief.
She pursed her lips, feigning annoyance. Oh, how had she come to this? ‘Okay then. Thank you everyone.’
Her audience stumbled quickly towards the door at the back of the room, very happy to be freed. Ron got to his feet too, once the last person had left. ‘Lock the door, shall I?’
She tried very hard to stay angry. Ron wended his way across the room to stand on her other side, lacing his fingers between Harry’s, which were still rested on her arse. ‘I’m very annoyed with both of you.’
‘Really?’ Harry asked, squeezing his hand tighter.
‘But you’ll save that for later, won’t you,’ Ron told her.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled, as two pairs of lips homed in on her neck.