Ok, here's the thing: I LOVE YOU. I had a wonderful night reading your blog, but sadly I can't keep reading for today, I have to sleep! So I'll leave, but I have a request! I thought about her telling him that she used to rail another professor, what he did and how was it... And Lupin being kind of turned on because of that. If you want to, I'll be pleased! Keep going. Kisses
how did he fuck you?
professor lupin / reader
summary: telling Professor Lupin about an old experience, watching as he grows jealous and aroused ;)
You glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Seven-thirty, only two minutes had passed since you checked it previously.
‘Finally,’ you said. Lupin came through into the bedroom, towel slung carelessly over his shoulder, hair still wet. He smoothed his moustache down, and adjusted the top button on his shirt. ‘Thought you’d fallen over.’
He offered an unamused smile. Of course, he was used to these quips.
‘Another old man joke. How fantastically original.’ He tried to remain straight-faced, patting at his hair with the towel, but you certainly saw the corners of his mouth creep upwards. He folded the towel, placing it on the armchair beside the fireplace. You have him a sultry smile, tilting your head toward him. He came over, kissed you gently, then sat.
‘What time do I have to leave in the morning?’ You asked sheepishly. It wasn’t often that Lupin would let you up to his sleeping quarters, and he would be endlessly anxious when you did.
He chuckled, shaking his head. You turned to face him now, sitting cross legged and frowning severely.
‘You’re lucky I’ve let you up here at all, young lady,’ he said sternly, and you felt yourself blush a little. ‘They’d have both our heads if we were caught. I shall wake you at five, then you can quietly make your way back to your dormitory, yes?’
‘Alright.’ You mumbled grumpily.
‘Good, good girl.’
‘Old man,’ you smirked, one eyebrow quirked. He leant back on his elbows, and to your disappointment, looked entirely indifferent and unaffected.
‘This old man is the best sex you’ve ever had.’ He declared, proudly. You scoffed.
‘You’re very sure of yourself, Professor.’ You stuck your tongue in your cheek, not daring to make eye contact again. He shifted slightly.
‘Meaning?’ He asked, clearing his throat.
‘Nothing,’ you said softly, allowing yourself to lay back onto the bed. It was comfortable, much more so than your dormitory bed. And it smelt like him, musky and warm, and faintly of Heran Horticue’s Aftershave for the Working Wizard. He was quiet for a while.
And a while turned into twenty, then thirty minutes. He had the newspaper laid on his leg, sitting on the fireplace armchair, and he was silent as night. You watched him as he followed the words with his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t be reading any of them.
‘Who else have you had?’ He said abruptly, eyebrows still furrowed. You wondered if he’d be able to unstitch them, they seemed so tightly fixed.
‘Had?’ You repeated.
‘Who else have you slept with?’
‘A lady never tells.’ You winked. He tutted.
‘Lady,’ he said sarcastically, and you scowled. You knew he was off. Straightening yourself, you inhaled sharply, preparedly.
His eyes flicked up. There was that silence, and you sat in it, not bothering to fill it — it was his turn to move, after all. He stood, leaving the paper on the chair.
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘What can you tell me?’
‘Where did it happen?’ He asked. You grinned as he sat down. It was funny, the way he pretended to retain that same anger, but you could all the while see the searching in his eyes, as if the story was written in yours.
‘You don’t want to hear about it, Professor.’ You waved your hand dismissively, fiddling with your night-shirt.
‘Yes, yes I do. A — and I won’t ask again, so speak. Go on.’ You sighed.
‘In his classroom.’
‘What was the classroom like?’
‘Dark, I suppose,’ you intended to paint the most wonderful picture for him. ‘It was late, so the candles and torches were lit. The chairs were tucked in, unused quills were strewn about the desks. He was working late, I suppose, so was at his desk. Only him, lit by the candles, writing away.’
‘Very poetic,’ he said, mockingly.
‘If you don’t want to know — ’
‘No, I do. Talk.’
‘Alright. It was sort of damp, the floor in that classroom is stone, and it was cold. It was winter, might’ve been the end of January. Bitter.’
‘What time was it?’
‘Late, probably seven or eight o’clock.’
‘Why were you there?’
‘I left my textbook,’ he nodded, thinking hard. ‘On purpose.’
‘You wanted to see him?’
‘Only to talk to him without Ron and Harry buzzing around. I didn’t expect to do what we did.’
‘And what did you do?’ Lupin’s mouth was closed tightly, and he now leant more relaxed against the head of the bed.
‘Well, we had — ’
‘Don’t jump ahead so much,’ he groaned and you laughed quietly.
‘Fine; I came in to the classroom, scanned the desks. My textbook wasn’t there, and so I have to ask him, don’t I? I needed that book for Charms the next morning. So I knocked on the desk, and I saw his head lift. Remember, it was dark — I could hardly see him. I have to admit, Professor — I was already soaking. All the way to his classroom I’d been thinking about it, what he’d say to me, and what we’d do. Anyway; he beckons me over, without a word, and I give him my excuse for the interruption. I left my textbook in here, Professor. I was wondering if you’d seen it?,’ you said, imitating your own voice only slightly higher. He lapped it up, a smile forming on his face. He looked at you hungrily, his chest rising quickly. It was hard to tell if he was still angry.
‘And he had?’
‘Yes, he had it on his desk. He made to give it to me, but as I took it, he held on. He gave me a stern look, and said you ought to be more careful with your possessions, Miss. Now, I’d never been referred to as simply ‘Miss’ before, and it gave me such an overwhelming confidence that I winked at him, and told him I’d try my hardest. He said that wasn’t good enough, and he’d have to teach me a lesson in taking care of things.’
Lupin swallowed, his smile had disappeared. It seemed to you that maybe now the story felt rather too real for him now, you’d made it past the exciting build up, and now you were about to tell him about how he’d fucked you that first night. Another man, and his girlfriend.
‘Of course, I assumed he’d just said it to frighten me. But he gestured to his desk, and I quietly walked around. He stood, then started moving the papers and books from the centre of it. He asked me rather forwardly to bend over, and when I laughed with shock, he pushed my back down, his other hand around my waist. He could hold me however he wanted, he was so strong, Professor.’
Lupin tensed his jaw, and you let your eyes glance quickly down to his trousers. You smirked. He was red, with either embarrassment or anger, you didn’t know.
‘Then you made love?’ He said quickly.
‘Made love? I don’t think that was making love, Professor. No, no. He fucked me, it wasn’t loving.’
‘How?’ He asked, the question pained him.
‘How did he fuck you?’
‘He pulled up my skirt. And he smacked me a few times, until I was stinging a bit. You know I like that, and I was still wet from my fantasies before. So, I didn’t need much more readying. I remember him unzipping his trousers and moving his robe aside, then I felt it. First, he tugged aside my knickers, I think he tore the stitching a little bit. Then he was in me, and he hardly gave me a second to adjust before he was fucking me. The echo of the slaps would fill that classroom, my moans and his grunts. I said the classroom was cold earlier, but now it was unbelievably hot, especially with his hands all over me — he did this thing where he’d push his cock all the way in, then hold it there until I was begging him to move.’
‘Then?’ He said. You could see his erection through his pants, that familiar outline. He noticed you looking and opened his mouth to object, but you started before he could.
‘He asked me to swallow his cum, and I did, quite gladly.’
‘Did you finish?’
‘There’s the day after. By the way my legs and my back were aching, you’d think I’d lifted Hagrid up to the Astronomy tower. I had bruises on my hips where he’d carelessly dug his fingers, and love bites on my neck which I managed to cover up for the week. But I felt so incredibly fulfilled. I touched myself most nights after thinking about it, the filth he’d whispered to me, the taste of his cum, everything.’
‘Fucking hell.’ Lupin breathed.
‘That first night was the greatest.’
He was quiet a moment, then stared at you through his eyebrows.
‘How many times?’
‘A few. Various places, but always the same fuck. Hard, breathy and fast.’
‘Did he ever see all of you?’
‘Naked? No.’ This seemed to calm him, but you saw a steady hand creep up to rest on his erection.
‘Did you like that, Professor? Did you like hearing about how another man fucked me?’ You said, biting your tongue playfully. You wondered how far you could push it. ‘Did it make you hard, hearing about how he pounded me in his office? How he’d leave staff meetings early to use me?’
‘No one fucks you like I do.’ He told you, sounding more like a self-assurance rather than an observation.
‘He was incredible though, he was like an animal.’
‘You’re mine.’ He said, his voice gravelly. He watched closely as you sat back, pushing your chest out slightly.
A/N: i love you too! glad you enjoyed reading! and, sleep is important - very unwise to sacrifice that over reading smut, though i know i do. this title made me laugh too, i wasn’t sure what else to put.
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