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cosmal · 1 year

Note

cake — send me in a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a blurb!

sirius black + showering together for the first time? maybe?? you’re definitely super shy and he softens you up with compliments and washes your hair (and he lets you was his)

suds

summary you and sirius have your first shower togehter

content sirius black x fem!reader

note mal ur so real for this

You stand behind the curtain to Sirius's shower, still in your underwear. He waits on the other side, warming up the water for you. He'd been fine with being the first to get undressed and you really appreciate him for it.

You've been naked around each other enough times for you not to be as nervous as you'd been the first time. You've never showered with him and you're thankful you're doing it before you take it further eventually.

"You coming, baby?" he asks gently, just loud enough so he's heard over the splash of water.

You blink, eyes heavy, head even worse. Despite the nerves, you really want to get under the warm water. You take off your bra and step out of your undies and feel a little better seeing yours piled up next to his boxers. Yours blue next to his grey. It's strangely calming.

You nudge the curtain with your shoulder, hands too busy crossed over your chest, folded in on yourself when Sirius opens it up to let you in.

"Darling," Sirius says, more than elated to see you. He keeps it hidden, voice soft and gentle. He can't hide it entirely too well with his little smile and sparkling eyes. "C'mere," he says, arms open and glittery, "you'll get all cold."

Sirius ushers you under the stream and not once has he stopped looking at your face. It relaxes you more than it should and you feel almost bad about it. Sirius is allowed to look at you, you like it when he does because he always looks like he's about to crumble. You don't make it easier with your hands tucked under your armpits, but you think Sirius knows you'd rather him not look down. He knows how to pace things.

Sirius is the most patient person you know and you love him for it.

"Sorry, I took so long," you say despite yourself. You share the stream with him, almost chest to chest. Your arm nudges his chest and you almost want to apologise but you can hear his response already.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he touches your shoulder. His fingers drip water in places that are still half dry and you shiver. He touches you as soft as you'd expect, maybe worse. Gentle fingers against gooseflesh skin.

There's a silence. Only running water and your breathing. Sirius's feet as they squeak against the tile below the both of you when he moves. You stay still and really don't know what to say. How much does someone's shower routine change when you have to reach around the other person's hip to grab your soap? Should you ask him to move?

"Sirius," you say. You're so close you wouldn't be surprised if he felt it against his dewy cheek. "I'm so nervous."

His bottom lips juts out and despite yourself, you want to kiss it. All slippery, kind kisses that feel warmer than the water. "It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be," you apologise.

"It's just me, yeah?" he says. You watch the water that sprays on his shoulder as it pushes his hair down and into his collarbone. He's so pretty and you're entirely silly.

You reach out to touch him and are hesitant with it. Your hand stops before you reach him.

"You can touch me lovely." You hate that he knows what you're thinking, and you hate yourself more for thinking it in the first place. You're not assuming, you shouldn't be, Sirius has his own boundaries. But, he's your boyfriend - you can touch him. Especially in the shower. It leaves no room for modesty.

"Yeah," you say, a little breathless, a lot giddy.

You reach out and trace his tattoos. Down the stem of a pretty, inky flower - the points of a group of stars. Sirius grabs you by the hips as you do so and it startles you how much you like it. How much you want him to pull you closer.

He tucks his head down to watch you with the prettiest smile he's ever given you. He's enraptured. It melts his silly little heart to watch himself make you so calm.

"Can I wash your hair, baby?" he asks, selfishly he might add.

You look back at him, embarrassed at your glossed-over eyes and the nibbled lip you'd tucked between your teeth. "Would you want to do that?"

Sirius seems like he's been burned. His eyes widen and he squeezes you harder by the hips. "Of course, I would," he laughs.

You reach up and hold him by the cheeks. Water rushes down your hands and your elbows into heavier streams that point towards your thighs. "Can I wash yours first?" you ask and push it behind his ears in soaked strands.

"Yeah?" he says, more excited than you're expecting.

You stare into his eyes, soft blue until it bleeds out into a sparkling grey that makes you feel weak. His heavy eyelashes that clump up under the water that drips from his hair. "Yeah," you smile.

He grins back, much worse than yours, and reaches down for your shampoo to hand to you. "Be gentle, yeah?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze a bunch into your open palm. He stares at you as you work it through his hair and you squirm under his gaze. You know he's aware of his effect on you. He smiles and has to bite it back. You stare at his scalp and pretend you're too busy to look him in the eye.

"Stop staring at me," you say, shy laughter hot in your throat.

He leans his cheek on your arm where you've got it next to his head. "I don't think I will," he smiles, the chub of his cheek slips against your skin as he goes.

"Stop," you say and don't mean It

"No," he says seriously. "No, I'll only stop when you stop being so fucking gorgeous."

"Sirius."

"Really," he laughs now.

"No."

"You're fucking amazing." He's so genuine about it, you wish you weren't trapped in your tiny studio apartment shower.

"Tilt your head back," you say instead of what you want to. Something like Sirius, if you don't stop I'm going to pass out right here in the shower.

"Beautiful."

You tilt his head under the water before he can wax poetic any longer. He laughs and his mouth fills with water. He splutters and scrunches his eyes shut, face bright with boyish glee. You think he might spit it out at you but he lets it dribble out and down his chin - much to your delight. It's daunting how pretty he looks as he does it. Suddy face and hair in his eyes.

"All right," he says, pushing his hair from his face. "Turn around, it's my go."

"Be gentle, please, Sirius," you say, and tilt your head up.

Sirius groans from the back of his throat. "God, honey, when you say it like that, I'd be an ass not to, huh?"

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cosmal · 2 years

Text

KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN — SIZE KINK WITH REMUS LUPIN

*:･ﾟsummary — remus lupin is tall. expected, he fucks well too. fucks you into oblivion.

*:･ﾟ warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her, size kink, piv, rough fucking

*:･ﾟ word count — 2.1k

*:･ﾟmy gif!

Remus Lupin is tall. So, very tall. You’re not sure whether you detest it, or if you love it. You think you know which one.

Sirius had invited you out and you knew Remus would be there. Obviously. So, you’d worn your prettiest dress and spent extra time doing your hair, hoping that tonight would be the night he’d finally ask you back to his flat.

You knew you were in for a long night when he was attached to your hip as soon as you arrived. An arm wrapped around your shoulder - that only tightened when some guy had offered to buy you a drink - sitting down so close that you could feel his heat seeping through your skin. It was dizzying.

So, here you were, perched at the end of his bed with him hovering over you with a gentle hand gripping your chin. His thumb tracing circles over your skin, stretching out to prod your neck, and all you can think about is how tall he is.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asks. His voice is rasped with want and it sends a shiver down your back.

You angle your head until your lips press into his wrist. You kiss him there slowly, looking up at him through droopy eyelashes. “Please, Remus.” Your tone is a few heavy breaths short of a whiny plea. You squeeze your legs together with anticipation.

He hums and his grip tightens on your chin. He moves his thumb from your neck and slides it up to your mouth, tugging gently on your bottom lip. You open up and he slides his thumb past your teeth and pushes down into your tongue. The tip grazes just below your gagging point.

You raise your hand to grip his wrist and you wrap your lips around his finger, closing your eyes.

“Look at you, hmm?” Spit wells at the corners of your mouth, begging to fall down your chin, “Such a needy thing.”

Your eyes open and he pushes further back, throat bobbing and you breathe through your nose. Before he prods too far, exploring your mouth, he pulls his hand free and your lips pop.

With a wet hand, he guides you back to lay flat against his mattress. His pillow engulfs your head. With your knees bent, your view is obstructed where he tugs at his jeans. You hear his belt clatter then his jeans unzip. While he’s tugging his pants down, you’re pulling your shirt over your head, then your skirt from your legs.

He gives a few tugs to his sensitive cock and you have to hold back your urge to gawp. Remus being well-endowed comes as no surprise.

He pulls your legs together and with one hand he pinches your ankles together to lift your hips from the bed with a strength that dizzies you. He tugs your panties from your legs with his free hand and lets you fall back down to the bed.

He pushes one of your legs flat and the other up the bed to spread you open.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, using his thumb to spread you apart, through your folds to expose the bud of your clit, “I am going to ruin you, sweetheart.”

When you try to close your legs, his palm spreads over your thigh to hold you apart. He smears slick from where it's embarrassingly dribbling from your hole, right up across your clit and over the skin of your thighs. A wet mess. He’d think about getting you to wet his fingers with your mouth again but doesn’t think it’s necessary.

“Making such a mess for me,” he coos, tracing the skin of your thigh. You shiver.

So, with no preamble, he pushes one finger inside and you breathe out a tiny gasp, wanting more. You whine and push your hands flat against the bed before you fist at his sheets.

Amused, Remus slides another finger in and the sigh that follows is pleasing. He curls and thrusts, the flat of his palm coming to graze against your clit. You squirm.

“Remus,” you almost whine, prodding your foot into his thigh. You watch where he fists at his ruddy cock with his free hand, where his hand twists and pulls.

He looks up at you instead of where his fingers are pushing through your pudgy folds. “What’s up, baby?” he asks.

You blink slowly, “S’not enough.”

He scissors his fingers and your back curls off the bed momentarily, head spinning when your walls stretch around his fingers. His hand wettens when his thrusts speed up.

“What do you want?” he asks, moving to lean on his knee propped up on his bed.

You squirm and your eyes well with tears in the corners where your eyelashes kiss. “Please, Remus. Need you- need you inside me.” The stretch is numbing and you bite down on your lip, hard.

He pulls his fingers from you and doesn’t miss when you whine, moving to grasp his wrist again. You miss and he leans forward to run his aching cock through your wet folds. Smearing your arousal around in a mess that coats him in a sheen of you.

“Hmm, I don’t know baby.” He quirks. You bring a leg up to cross over your middle, he catches your thigh and holds it still. Leaning down to kiss your knee. “I don’t know if I’ll fit.” He murmurs into your skin before dropping your leg.

You nod your head feveriously and your hair scratches against your neck, “Please, Remus. Please, I can take it.”

He coos, pushing his thumb inside your weeping hole and spreads you open momentarily, “You think? Looks so tight, bunny.”

You wriggle to find some relief and your tears fall down your temples and into your hair. He reaches out to cup your face and then pats you. Not roughly, but certainly not gently, “So pretty.” he murmurs, squeezing at your cheeks, pulling until he’s formed a crooked smile. “Look so pretty crying for my cock, baby.”

“Ple…’’ The plea dies on your lips when he squeezes your throat. Your cunt clenches around his thumb and Remus wants to laugh. He doesn’t.

He leans back to brace himself, lining his cock back up at your entrance. Placing a few taps with his tip that have you jolting. “I think I can make it fit.” he smiles before pushing in. The first initial stretch has you holding your breath. It's always the best part, moulding until it's snug.

At first, knowing how big he is, truly, he’s shallow and slow. Fucking you at a pace that already has you gasping. Your cheeks don’t have time to dry before another round of overwhelming tears splash down your face. He wipes them with his thumb and frowns at you. You nod encouragingly, smiling.

“Please, Remus.” You gasp, breathlessly. You palm at your tits, toying with your hardened nipples through your fingers.

“Well, when you ask so nicely.” He’s so, very smug. You selfishly love it.

He pushes in further and you gasp. “I can be so polite,” You feel dizzy and your breath is lost on you, “I have so many manners. All- all the manners.” You babble, mindlessly.

“Don’t you just.”

He grunts once he’s at the hilt. He stops, letting you adjust. But, in your hazed mind, you want him to speed up. You wriggle your hips and gasp when there’s a pinching stretch.

He slaps the side of your thigh, “Slow down, babe. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You nod your head, slowing your hips. You let him take the lead and within a few slow thrusts, he’s speeding to a pace that has you keening. Your head angles back pointed to the ceiling as you cry out, strangled and loud.

He leans forward to wrap his lips around your perked nipple. Making quick work of running his mouth along your skin, sucking and nipping. Bullying your skin until you start to shiver under his attentive mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, thighs slapping the bottoms of yours. He pushes his palm flat against the swell of your tummy, “Can you feel me, hmm? Feel how deep I am?”

“So full, Remus.” you mewl, nodding your head more. He tugs at your hand and brings it to your cunt and guides it to your twitching clit. Spreads your fingers over your folds, guiding you to start touching yourself. Your limbs feel heavy and your movements are lazy.

“C’mon, you can do it.” He tuts, pushing at your hand, “Touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Make you feel so much better.”

“Uh-huh.” He moves his hand and you try your best to massage your clit. Your fingers twitch over the bead and you jolt every time you hit the perfect spot, screwing your eyes shut.

Before anything has the time to build, he’s pulling out of you and you want to cry out but your tongue feels dry and your throat thick.

He flips you onto your stomach at a speed that makes the room spin with your head pushed into his pillow. He spreads your thighs wide, palming at your ass so you’re on display for him. His hands brace at your hips before he’s sliding back in with a deep, guttural groan.

He’s back at the mind-numbing pace he was just at. His skin slides against yours as he leans his weight into you. Pushing your hips so far into the bed you can feel the box springs under you.

“Fuck,” He grunts, slamming into you, prodding so deep against the perfect spot until you moan. “So tight.”

“So deep,” You babble.

“Yeah?”

“Can’t take it,” You shake your head.

Deep, he groans, “Think you can,”

He leans over you to brace himself and you go limp under him, lazily trying to swivel your hips against his pelvis. With one big palm, he brings his hand up to the middle of your back and pushes down. To be so overwhelmed and suffocated by him makes you clench hard around him as he fucks relentlessly into you. He fucks you so hard you wondered if you’d bruise.

“Fuck, Remus. I’m gonna cum,” You murmur, voice muffled through cotton pillowcases. It felt good to be used by him. Like a cocksleeve.

“Yeah?” He asks, rolling his hips to hit a new angle. Rolling, rolling, rolling. He looks down to where he’s splitting you over his cock. “Gonna cum on my cock, angel? Please.”

“Don’t stop, Remus. Please, please. Fuck.” You murmur breathlessly, screwing your eyes shut. With a few more relentless thrusts, you're cumming. Spasming into the mattress until your toes curl and you can’t find any words. Head completely empty.

“Remus,” You pant as he sits back on his haunches. He drags you with him, keeping himself deep-seated inside your twitching cunt.

Chasing his own high, he grabs your hips and fucks you back onto him with your legs spread wide across the bed. You bounce back and forth uselessly as he grunts behind you.

“I think I’ve fucked you dumb, bunny.” He groans, pistoning his hips. You've stopped trying to assist his movements anymore. Letting him do everything, use you how he wants as he drags you up and down his cock. Squelching and thudding as he slams inside you.

You babble loudly, Ah's and Oh's, high pitched and all pretty, Remus thinks. He watches where your lips spread around him, swallowing him whole as he spears you open.

Overwhelmed, you don’t even see it coming. As you feel Remus twitch inside you, thrusts becoming sloppy and stuttered, spurting his thick seed inside, you cum as well, blindsided. Gargling into the bed, your bite down into his pillow.

He pulls out, sitting back on his legs. Bringing his thumbs to your gaping hole to spread you open and watches his cum ooze from you where you push it out. “All ruined, baby.” he coos.

He watches where you pant, spent and fucked out atop his bed. Sheets completely ruined. He leans down to grasp your calves, massaging your aching muscles. He kisses along your back, up the length of your spine until he reaches your cheek, moving to kiss there as well.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He pecks again. You nod your head against his lips, head clouded and eyes droopy. “You wanna take a shower?Or?”

You mewl, “Wanna sleep, Rem.”

Remus moves to grab a wet cloth from his ensuite and is careful when he wipes you clean to his best ability. Wiping along your puffy lips and across your thighs, watching as you jolt and screw your face in displeasure.

“That’s enough,” You whine.

“I know, baby.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder, “Just don’t complain to me in the morning when you’re all sticky and you’re angry I let you sleep.”

“I won’t, promise.”

You do. You complain about your aching tummy and your sticky skin. And the bruises under your tits.

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