#sirius black x emalia grace
Text
Like A Virgin
summary: she was a virgin. and he wasn't. sirius have a reputation. oh, merlin, did he had a reputation.
pairing: young!sirius x ofc (Emalia)
warnings: loss of virginity. fingering. oral (fem receiving). heavy making-out. unprotected sex. multiple orgasms.
words: 7.8k
a/n: emalia is my own original character. please keep in mind that these characters are portrayed at sixteen years old, the age of consent in my country. this got away from me and ended up a bit longer than intended. i hope you enjoy!
It was just past midday when the rumble of a motorcycle disturbed the peace of the day. It was an out-of-the-ordinary sound for the neighbourhood, one that enticed people to open their doors or peek through windows to investigate with judgmental stares. Emalia smiled to herself, knowing precisely who it was that had come visiting, and made her way downstairs.
Sirius Black.
He knocked, and she opened the door without hesitation. With a single brow lofted and arms crossed against her chest, she leaned against the door frame, preventing him from entering. Emalia peered up at him with a patient and playful gleam in her soft blue eyes.
"Hey, Ema." He had a voice like melted chocolate, all smooth, deep, and delectable, even when he wasn't intending it to be. His charisma was effortless and magnetic. But if she wasn't mistaken, he sounded a little bit sheepish, almost as though he was apologetic for not having called ahead. It hadn't bothered her. His presence was unexpected, but not unwelcome.
"Get this: James and Lily are on a date." She nodded, indicating she had already known. There wasn't much she and Lily didn't share given that they were best friends, and it was to be expected that the redhead had told her about their upcoming date. "And Peter and Remus are busy with 'family affairs', whatever that means."
She cracked a smile but didn't say anything. She just continued smiling sweetly and patiently up at him, still not making a move to allow him inside. He either didn't notice or didn't care because he went on.
"I am bored out of my skull at home, and I figured you were free and that I'd come around. So, can I come in?"
There it was, the reason for his out-of-the-blue visit—he was bored.
This wasn't surprising to hear. Sirius was a social creature; he liked being around others and was only alone when it suited him. It hadn't even bothered her that he would assume she was free and come over unannounced. After what happened last year, when her mother passed away and she struggled to come to terms with it, she and Sirius had grown closer.
He had become a constant presence in her life, where once he had just been Remus' friend. But he had been there, impulsive and reckless, when she pushed everyone away. He helped drive away her sorrows with his silly jokes and ridiculous behaviour, and he was there to comfort her when it became too much to handle. She'd lost count of how many times he had held her as she cried.
"Of course you can, Sirius. I just wanted to see how long you'd wait to ask," she said with a laugh. The sound was light and carefree, unlike anything she had done a year ago. She stepped aside to make room for him to pass, and she closed the door when he had done so. Her father, Alberic, wasn't home, but he knew Sirius well enough that she didn't think he would be bothered by the visit.
"I was just getting ready, actually. Lily and I are going to a high tea after their date." Emalia made certain the door was locked before turning back to him and motioning for him to follow her.
"So, a tea party." Sirius joked as he followed her upstairs. She could hear the smile in his voice and imagined the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he teased her.
"No. It's a high tea. You know what that is, Sirius."
"A fancy tea party then." He went on as he took a seat at the end of her bed. Emalia was seated in front of a vanity; it was matte black with a large mirror and looked out of place in her bedroom. He wondered, just for a moment, if it had belonged to her mother. "Besides, you look pretty much ready to me."
"I need to finish my hair, then put on my heels, and I haven't decided what perfume to wear, so I'm not really. You'll just have to sit and watch, won't you?"
He laughed at her playful banter and watched her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was serious as she pulled a brush through her raven-black hair without too much difficulty. Every now and then, he saw the corner of her mouth twist in discomfort as she worked a knot loose.
After a few minutes, maybe five or so, he started counting the strokes, and when he reached thirty, he chuckled. It was a deep sound, reverberating from the middle of his chest. Emalia stopped and was staring towards the mirror, brush still held in hand, brows drawn together in confusion.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just that I've watched you brush your hair about thirty times now. I think you're done, Ema."
He saw the worried expression soften in the mirror and cracked a small smile.
"I'll only be a few more minutes, then I'll give you some attention, Pads."
"You know, I'm pretty sure I could run my fingers through your hair and it wouldn't get tangled; you've brushed it that much."
It was this comment that made her thoughts pause as she looked over her shoulder at him. If it had been any other woman, he would have thought the look she gave him was purposely seductive, but not Ema; no, she wasn't that kind of person. But maybe he was mistaken because the way she was smiling at him made him swallow hard.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think you're flirting with me, Mister Black. Maybe even trying to seduce me." Her tone was soft, like a whisper, as she gave him a playful wink. It wasn't unusual for them to poke fun at each other; the occasional flirty comment or sarcastic remark that might have led to hurt feelings if they hadn't been so close. Emalia wasn't a flirt like him, though he knew she had had boyfriends in the past.
But knowing that didn't stop his thoughts from racing to a hundred different scenarios.
"And if I was?" He replied with a sudden seriousness in his deep voice.
Emalia didn't need to see him to hear the challenge in his words. Her face flushed a soft pink, and she quickly looked away, but he saw it in the mirror's reflection.
"Is it working?"
She didn't answer; she couldn't find her voice to do so.
Sure, she had thought about him that way; she had fantasised about how his hands would feel on her body, touching her and pleasuring her, his fingers wrapped in the heat of her core. She had even touched herself on more than one occasion, imagining it was him. His name was often a heaven's prayer on her lips as pleasure swept through her body, leaving her breathless and wanting more. But those thoughts had been buried deep down, hidden alongside the ones about Remus.
He was her friend; they all were—as thick as thieves, James would always say. Emalia had never been willing to risk their incredible friendship for anything. Not love, not sex, not anything. But she would have been lying if she said she wasn't tempted.
With a gentle sigh, she placed the brush down and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. She laughed softly and shook her head. He was teasing her again. He always did this.
"You are a dork, Sirius." The words came out halfheartedly as she stood and took a step towards the wardrobe. But he caught her by the wrist before she had taken even two steps and pulled her back towards him.
Surprised by this, she stumbled around, only to have him catch her.
It all happened so fast.
One moment she was standing, and the next she was practically straddling his lap. Her hands were on his shoulders now, clutching at him for balance, a knee resting on the mattress beside his thigh. His hands had settled on the swell of her hips, firm, warm, and strong. And then, without warning, he shifted, pulled her down onto the mattress, and held her there.
Emalia made a startled squeak but otherwise didn't resist him. She was too surprised by his bold behaviour to protest. And, if she were to be honest with herself, she had fantasised about situations exactly like this a few too many times before. She had imagined how his body would feel nestled between her thighs, what he would do when she was naked beneath him, and how he would kiss her, touch her, and love her.
One of his arms was around the small of her back, the other propping him up on an elbow. She was staring up at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted, and her fingertips digging into his shoulders as he hovered over her like some falling shadow.
Sirius was between her legs, making her skirt ride up her thighs, and he was breathing deeply, evenly, and calmly. His breath was washing over her mouth and nose like sickly sweet rum—it made her head swim.
"Is it working?" He repeated the question, his voice dropping an octave so that a shiver ran down her spine. Emalia still couldn't find her voice to answer him; she couldn't stop her heart from going into overdrive or the moisture pooling at her core.
His denim trousers rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as she shifted beneath him. The ends of his long, inky black hair tickled her cheeks as he stared down at her. She could feel him staring at her, watching her, waiting for an answer.
Her tongue slipped out from behind her teeth to slowly lick her lips. He watched this with a smirk and enjoyed when she chewed nervously on her lower lip. Her chest was rising and falling, brushing against his each time, and her ebony hair was sprawled around her on the bed like the night sky.
"That depends." Emalia finally answered, her voice barely a whisper.
She couldn't deny her feelings. She wanted this—she wanted him.
Sirius leaned closer, pressing more firmly against her, stroking his nose softly against hers.
"Hrm?"
"Are you going to kiss me or not?"
He didn't answer, not verbally.
Instead, he kissed her, as was requested of him. His lips touched hers gently at first, soft and warm, moving slowly and testing the waters, but when she released the breath she had been holding and kissed him back, it was game on.
Sirius deepened the kiss, chasing her taste. Vanilla. He could taste it on her lips. Her lip gloss tasted like vanilla and sweet almonds. It was a delicious combination, and he found that he couldn't get enough of it.
He had plenty of experience in these situations and was deep in his element, so he took the lead without question. He parted his lips and swept his tongue against her plump lower lip, requesting permission. This made her head swim and made her moan softly into the kiss. Emalia parted her lips, then his tongue delved into her mouth without hesitation. He tasted like cigarette smoke and danger, pure rebellion, drowning her senses in him.
She moaned again, louder this time. Emalia shifted beneath him to wrap an arm around the back of his neck and pull him closer. His fingers trailed fire across her back as he pulled his arm from beneath her and spread it along her ribs. Sirius pushed against her, rolling his hips against hers, his arousal evident, straining against his jeans.
His mouth was making her delirious, and her head was swimming with pleasure because of it. Sirius was like fire, scorching her skin with his touch and searing her mind with his gentleness. And she was like putty in his hands—inexperienced, innocent, and all too willing to learn.
His hand trailed up her body, from her hip to her ribs, before settling over a breast that was just a little bit too big to fit in his palm. He could feel her nipple through her clothes, hardening as he ran his thumb against it. It was begging to be freed, begging to be sucked.
Emalia said his name in a quiet plea when the kiss was broken for a much-needed breath. He kissed her from her chin to her neck, stopping to suck here and there, leaving little red marks in his wake. She was writhing beneath him, pushing her hips against his, pushing her breast into his hand.
She still had an arm around his neck, and now the other had a fistful of his hair. Her fingers were buried deep in his thick locks, and she tugged on them roughly, making him growl as she dragged his mouth back to hers. Emalia was breathing heavier now, faster and harder, and her knickers were wet with excitement as their tongues touched and twirled together.
Sirius drew her lip between his teeth, biting it gently, and gave her breast a firm squeeze before moving his hand down her body. He enjoyed the way she writhed beneath him, how she kissed him with urgency, and how she moaned his name each time he did something new.
His hand reached her thigh, which was now curled against his hip. And then it drifted back up, beneath her skirt this time. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch and prickled with goosebumps. His fingers found the band of her knickers, curled around the cotton fabric, and tugged them down.
It was then that Emalia made a noise. The sound was somewhere between protest and panic. Her hand left his hair and found his beneath her skirt. Small fingers encircled his wrist and held tightly to halt his explorations. He could have kept going—he knew that, she knew that, but he was as still as stone.
She was panting and staring up with lust-filled eyes that were wide with uncertainty once again. The last virgin of their group—even Peter had finally gotten some now that he was dating that pretty Ravenclaw girl he was so keen on. This thought made him smile. She was so eager but so unsure.
"We should go out first. To dinner or something."
Her words were like a sledgehammer shattering a panel of glass—sudden and unexpected. Sirius was struck silent for a moment before the corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk. So she wanted to be wooed first. He could do that.
He kissed her without warning. Hard, slowly, thoroughly, just because he could. It made her moan and made her toes curl.
"Yeah, let's do that."
"Sirius."
"Emalia."
The warning in her tone had him grinning from ear to ear—not that she could see it, but she could certainly hear it in the sound of his laugh. Emalia shuffled along with an arm outstretched, feeling the way while he crowded behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he kept her eyes hidden behind his hands.
"I’m serious," she warned him again, this time trying to escape him. He'd blindfolded her the moment they arrived, his large hands covering her eyes, intent on not letting her ruin the surprise. Sirius hadn't told her when he would take her on a date, where he'd take her, or any other details.
And then one night he sent her a message, instructing her to dress nice and be ready by seven. Normally, she would have resisted his dominance and rebelled against his authority. But this time it made butterflies fill her stomach, making her nervous and excited, so that she had to squeeze her thighs shut to fight the ache between them.
He’d dressed nice—casual but nice. Dark denim jeans and big black combat boots. He had a leather jacket over a simple white tee and rings on at least half a dozen of his fingers. Emalia hadn't been able to hide the way her eyes moved up and down his body, taking in every detail of him, or the flush that had crept into her face when he caught her staring.
He had been equally transfixed when she opened the door. Her long ebony hair hung in loose curls down her shoulders, falling over a black blouse that was tucked into a red floral skirt, but his gaze remained on her feet. Six-inch heels, studded and strappy, towering, impossible to walk in, or so he thought.
Escaping him proved to be impossible. Sirius wrapped an arm around her waist—a tight band of muscles—as he lifted her, making her shriek in surprise. "No, you’re Ema. I’m Sirius." He chortled in response, and she could hear the tease in his words and feel the laughter vibrating through his chest and against her back. "Now behave; we’re almost there."
She was laughing in spite of how he carried her as though she weighed nothing, unhindered by the way she wriggled in his grasp. "Put me down, you buffoon!"
He didn't, not until they reached the entrance. He held onto her as her heels sank into the snow, keeping a hand on her hip and her back pressed against his chest.
He watched her face as she stared in awe at the winter wonderland before them. The ice rink had been decorated with wreaths of twinkling lights and fresh snow, and the ice was beautifully illuminated by those very same lights along with the moonlight glow. There were a couple of booths selling snow cones, hot chocolate, and other treats. There was a distinct chill in the air.
Emalia looked at him over her shoulder with a sweet smile on her lips. The lights reflected in her soft blue eyes in a way that stole the breath from his lungs. "Sirius, this is so lovely."
He frowned. "But?"
"I can’t skate very well," she admitted quietly, not wanting to ruin his surprise. "Or at all, actually."
He grinned in response, his shoulders dropping as the tension bled out of them, and suddenly he could breathe again. Sirius narrowed his eyes playfully. "It’s alright, angel. I’ll show you." His arm snaked around her waist again, his palm pressing firmly against her stomach, fingers splayed possessively, the warmth of his palm penetrating straight to her core as he pulled her tight against him. "Besides, it gives me a reason to hold you like this."
"Oh, you need an excuse for that, hrm?"
"A reason. You give me plenty of those," he mused with a hum, his mouth ghosting over hers, swallowing the little gasp of surprise. She tasted like vanilla again, her soft pink lips parting under the dominance of his. Her eyes, his eyes, drifted shut. Her tongue slipped past her own lips to lick his lower one, softly and shyly, asking for or giving permission; he couldn't figure out which because his head was swimming.
It was only the shriek of someone falling on the ice that pulled them from the moment and reminded her that they were standing somewhere very public. Sirius noticed that her eyes were glossy when they opened, but she smiled at him sweetly and innocently, as though she had no idea what effect she had on him. Emalia tangled her fingers with his, enjoying the warmth of them wrapped around hers, which were cold as ice.
Sirius had always run hot like a furnace, the heat of him seemingly clinging to the air, chasing away the cold. She noticed that his fingers were calloused, just a little bit, probably from years of holding a bat and beating bludgers away from his teammates.
He didn’t object as she tugged him to the booth where they could rent their skates. He enjoyed the way she acted so bossy, calm, and confident while making small talk with the man attending the booth. Sirius laughed when she got her skates, a size seven, and Emalia retaliated by smacking the back of her hand against his chest.
Her shoe size shouldn’t have been surprising, and really, it wasn’t. It amused him that she wore such a small size in comparison to his ten and a half. Sirius was taller than her, which was an understatement, to say the least. If Emalia hadn’t been wearing those heels, he’d have been a foot taller than her, maybe more.
She was small, delicate, and fucking smart-mouthed.
Emalia watched how Sirius laced his skates, his fingers plucking at the laces with practised movements, no doubt from how often he’d had to lace up those combat boots. She followed his movements, pulling them tight around her ankles, making sure they were supported and that she wasn’t about to end up with a broken bone. And then she was following him to the rink, leaving behind her heels beside his boots, the sight of them drawing a chuckle from him that had her shooting him a warning glare.
Sirius marvelled at how she could walk in the skates with utter confidence, perched on them like a ballerina, until she stepped onto the ice. Then she was the polar opposite. Emaila stumbled and shivered from both the cold and nervousness, her expression one of tight-lipped concentration. She clutched at the railing, her arms shaking as she managed to catch herself when she slipped.
She didn’t talk to him. Didn’t even look at him. Instead, she was staring at her feet as she edged her way around the rink once, twice, and a third time.
Sirius was the complete opposite.
He moved with confidence and a natural swagger. The wind whipped at his hair as he whizzed past her, weaving in and out of the crowd, somehow avoiding colliding with them even though his attention was entirely on her. At times, he wasn’t even watching where he was going. After a while, he grew tired of watching.
Sirius skated towards her quickly, turning his skates at the last minute and finishing with a hockey stop, covering her legs in a spray of ice flakes. "You dog!" Emalia shouted with a glare, which only made the young man grin.
"What?" he barked out with a laugh, watching as she brushed the ice from her skirt, almost falling while doing so. "I needed to get your attention somehow. You seem pretty intent on that railing; should I be jealous?"
Emalia sneered at him. "That’s because someone took me to an ice skating rink. And as I recall, I've already told you I don't know how to skate."
"Here, let me show you," Sirius said, holding out a hand.
"I’m quite happy right here," she replied indignantly.
"Don’t you trust me?"
"Not on your life!"
That wasn’t entirely true. Emalia did trust him. She trusted that he would hold her close, that his hands would wander her body, and that his lips would steal the breath from her lungs. She trusted that he would tease her and keep her safe, but she didn’t trust him not to let her fall and be covered in snow and ice shavings as a joke.
Sirius drifted closer, not taking no for an answer. He caged her between his arms, his chest pressing firmly into her back, forcing her against the railing to prevent an escape. The warmth of him was immediate; it made her head spin and made her dizzy. She found herself leaning into him to chase away the cold.
He pried her small fingers from the railing one at a time, laughing against her shoulder, his warm breath wafting against her neck, making her shiver and squeeze her thighs together. She swatted at his hands, huffed out warnings and threats between laughs, and pushed against the rail and into his chest to create space for an escape. It was only as she moved to turn, stumbling as a skate slipped out from beneath her, that she gave up the fight.
Sirius caught her around the waist, an arm around the small of her back, the opposite hand grabbing her hip. He was laughing, and so was she, as he hauled her back to her feet. "Trust me, angel. I won’t let you fall."
She made a sound that was unladylike, indignant, and very unbelieving. Emalia held his forearms tightly, her manicured nails digging in, so he felt the pressure through the sleeves of his jacket. Sirius just grinned through it.
"Don’t look down," he instructed, his tone gentle as he moved slowly backward with just a little bit of momentum. "Watch me, Ema, and keep your back straight. If you tilt forward, your balance will be off." Sirius held her forearms firmly, staying about a foot away to avoid their skates coming together.
He towed her along slowly, encouraging her to match his stride and move with the opposite foot each time he moved. He praised her when she got it right, earning himself a coy little smile and her cheeks flushing a pretty pale pink. And when she stumbled, he caught her, soothing her and telling her it was alright.
They were both silent for a while. Emalia concentrated on her footwork, her hold on him tightening a few times when she stumbled before finding a rhythm that worked for her.
"You know," she said softly, still staring down at her feet while struggling to keep her balance. Sirius captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up. For a moment, she stared at him with pretty doe eyes, curious, nervous, and wanting. She licked her lips. "I don’t think I ever thanked you."
His brow furrowed. "For what?"
And he generally couldn’t think of what she might be thanking him for. He thought it was plain as day that he was enjoying himself on this date. Emalia was pleasant company—polite and sweet, undeniably sassy and smart-mouthed, which he found amusing.
It wasn't that he'd never considered dating her. She was an attractive young woman and had had her fair share of boyfriends and would-be suitors. But Sirius had made it a general rule to steer clear of his friends', the important ones anyway.
"I don't know," she laughed, her gaze wavering from his for a second before returning. The smile on her mouth was sweet but sad, and it plucked at the strings of his heart. He hadn’t seen that smile in a while, not since her mother had passed away and she’d tried to put on a brave face for the world. He hated it as much now as he did then.
"For everything you do. I don’t think I ever thanked you, Sirius. You stuck around even after I said those terrible things. Even when I pushed all of you away. Everything was so heavy, and you shouldered so much for me, and I don’t remember saying thank you. Or apologising."
"You were grieving, angel. You've got a free pass to be a little bitchy," he said, his hand moving to her hair and stroked it. He let the silken strands run through his fingers, marvelling over how, as he predicted, he could run them through her hair without it getting tangled. He smiled at her, gentle and reassuring. "Besides, that’s what friends are for, right? Staying around when things go to hell."
His words warmed her heart and plunged a knife into it at the same time.
Emalia was grateful to have him as a dear friend. She was so completely appreciative of everything he had done for her, how he had helped her and her family. He’d been so kind to her mother while she was confined to the hospital, lifting her spirits and making her laugh every time the doctors had bad news. But in that moment, she didn’t want a friend; she wanted more.
She was the one who moved first.
Her hands moved to his shoulders, and her lips melded against his, plump and warm, clumsy and desperate. The sound of their skates clacking together erupted between them as he hauled her closer to deepen the kiss.
His fingers burrowed deep in her hair, his cold nose gliding against hers as he tilted her head back, giving himself better access to her parting lips. The other hand held her hip, fingers pressing in firmly, feeling her curves. They were warm, spreading fire through her blood as it rushed through her veins, igniting an ache that spread from her belly and down into her hips.
The world had fallen away until it was just the two of them, clinging together like star-crossed lovers. They drifted gently on the ice, carried by his confident skill. Sirius felt her tremble against him, leaning desperately into his kiss. Her hands glided up his body, burrowing into the thicket of tresses at the back of his neck, drawing him in deeper, and he was lost in her—the smell of her shampoo, the taste of her chapstick—utterly and hopelessly lost.
He pressed his palm into the small of her back, bringing her flush against him, the other clutching at the back of her head to control their kiss. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and sucked it between his lips, and she couldn’t help but whimper.
It was that sound that brought the night careening back to reality.
Sirius pulled away, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. He kept her close, kept his hand in her hair, and kept his lips brushing against her. Their eyes half-opened and met. His hand stroked down her back, feeling her shivering, hearing her whimper, and feeling her lips open against his mouth for another needy kiss that he happily obliged in giving her.
"Sirius." Her voice was shaking, barely a whisper above the conversations around them. He felt her words rather than heard them. He bit back a groan when she bit his lip. "Take me home."
The two of them arrived on the porch of her family’s estate in record time. Her back slammed against the mahogany door as he pinned her to it, the force enough to make the hinges rattle. Emalia gasped into his mouth, caught off guard as a whisper of pain shot up her spine, only to be forgotten a second later when his hands splayed possessively at her hips.
She buried her fingers in his hair, taking a fistful to hold his mouth to hers, making him growl as his scalp was tinged with a pleasurable sort of pain. Sirius felt her nails scraping at his shirt, clawing their way down his chest before curling around his belt. With his hand hooked under the bend of her knee, he hitched her leg over the curve of his hip, allowing himself to paint his body firmly against hers.
His hips trudged against hers, strong, dominant, and rough; his cock was already hard and straining in his jeans, and she couldn’t help but use the hold of his belt to pull him closer. Emalia kissed him desperately and deliriously, her lips parting to welcome his tongue into the warmth of her mouth as he started to work his hands beneath her skirt.
Her legs turned to jelly when he took her arse in his hands, squeezing it as he ground his hips against hers so that she could feel his erection through the layers of their clothes. And then she was pushing his hands away so that she could turn towards the door.
Sirius did not stop as she fumbled with the doorknob.
"You taste so sweet," he said, his voice gravelly with lust. Sirius’ lips were warm as he kissed her neck, leaving little wisps of fire licking at her skin as he sank his pearly whites into the junction of her shoulder just hard enough to elicit a little gasp.
"Inside," she managed to gasp out, her voice trembling, "we need to get inside." Sirius silenced her with a kiss, their teeth knocking awkwardly together because of the angle, but neither minded. Emalia arched her back instinctively to allow their lips better contact, desperate to taste more of him, her arse pressing hard against his aching cock.
His hands found their way beneath her blouse, palms rough and like molten lava against her skin. He was pleasantly surprised to discover her bra unclasped at the front. He made quick work of it, her breasts freed to his wandering hands. Sirius cupped the weight of them in his palms, enjoying their soft warmth and the way her nipples hardened into peaks when he rolled them between his fingers.
It was a miracle Emalia got the door opened before they started stripping. Together, they tumbled inside—a tangle of limbs, heavy breaths, and hot kisses. It was followed by fumbling up the stairs when the kissing didn’t stop, and then they were naked on her bed and the nervousness was bleeding back into her veins.
Emalia watched him undress and, for a moment, was utterly terrified of how badly this was going to hurt. Especially with how... big he was.
And it all came racing back to her.
She was a virgin.
And he wasn’t.
Sirius had a reputation. Oh, Merlin, did he have a reputation.
Emalia had heard their schoolmates whispering about him in the back of the library. The girls talked about the delicious stretch of his fingers when he was fingering them. Or the wickedness of his mouth and how they could taste themselves on his tongue after he had gone down on them.
And it was those same girls who talked about his size—how he was above average with an impressive girth that sometimes made it uncomfortable for a few days after being with him.
She had heard the rumours; some nights he was soft and sweet, gently rocking his hips until his lover climaxed with a soft moan. Other nights, he was wild and untamed, rutting into them from behind until they couldn’t think straight.
And knowing all of this made her incredibly nervous. It made her heart stammer in her chest so hard that it might break through her breastbone, but it did not make her stop him when he started to move down her body.
"Is this okay?" Sirius whispered against her neck, his breath balmy against her sweat-slicked skin. His stormy eyes had closed, and his lips skimmed over her racing pulse and to the hollow of her throat. He took her hips into his hands, his fingertips biting into her skin just a little too much as he waited for her answer. She could feel his cock pressing against her thigh, feel how hard and big he was, and shuddered with anticipation.
Emalia whimpered in response and nodded in approval. Sirius was magnetic, and she found she could not deny him. He was fire—chaotic and beautiful—and she was a moth to his flame.
Sirius nipped at her racing pulse, making her gasp out loud. He immediately laved his tongue over the hickey to take the sting from it. The delicious combination of pleasure and pain had her mind blurry with lust and her core clenching.
She felt so vulnerable, like he was going to eat her alive.
And she wanted desperately to satisfy his hunger.
Sirius took his time, as though he had all night for the young woman beneath him. He took one of her hardened nipples into his warm, wet mouth and sucked on it, swirling his tongue around it.
"Sirius," she whined his name when he switched breasts, this time taking her nipple between his teeth and tugging on it just enough to entice her to arch her back from the mattress.
He chuckled when she whined again. "Patience, baby." He hummed while kissing a trail of fire down her belly. He took the time to admire the rise and fall of her chest as her breath came faster, how she moved restlessly beneath his mouth, and how her pussy glistened with obvious arousal.
Sirius placed a kiss against her hips and then on the inside of her thigh, so close and yet still so far from her core, making her breath hitch. He kissed and nibbled until she was writhing beneath his mouth, trying desperately to get him where she wanted.
And then he smeared his tongue against her pussy, tasting the sweet nectar of her essence and letting it slide down the back of his throat like a fine wine. Her body quivered beneath him, and his name escaped her in a breathless moan.
Sirius couldn’t explain what it was—either inexperience or curiosity—but virgins were so quick to get wet. They tasted different on his tongue—innocent and sweet. And she was no exception.
Her nerves cracked and popped like lightning as his tongue circled her clit, making her hips buck up. He could feel her heart racing beneath his palms; her nipples hard beneath the touch of his fingers as he caressed them down her body, memorising the feel of her skin until he found her wet heat.
She made this sound—a little gasp of pleasure—that sent arousal rocketing through his veins and straight to his cock when he pushed a finger into her tight pussy. His fingers were thicker than hers, larger and longer, reaching deep and rubbing against all of her nerves.
Emalia grabbed a fistful of his hair to hold his mouth against her when her hips bucked, pushing her pussy against his mouth when he began moving his finger. The stubble on his jaw scratched beautifully at the inside of her thighs as they tightened around his head, trapping him there when he added a second finger, stretching her more.
She came without warning, her walls clamping tight around him and her hips rising from the mattress as the world shattered into sweet oblivion. Sirius kept his lips encircled around her clit, sucking and fingering her through the climax as crystal shards of pleasure shot through her entire being. It felt like a bolt of white-hot lightning had scored her soul and set her world ablaze.
Emalia had touched herself before. She was no stranger to pleasure; she had kissed young men other than Sirius and gotten handsy with them. She’d had cum countless times with her fingers or the toys in her nightstand. But this was like nothing else.
Sirius was the son of the devil, with the face of an angel.
Her walls continued to flutter as she came back to earth with her head swimming and her thighs trembling. He withdrew his fingers to lick them clean. Sirius climbed the length of her body slowly, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from her clit, up her belly, and between the valley of her breasts until she was tasting herself on his tongue.
She stroked his dark locks as he positioned himself between her thighs, their tongues twisting and twirling together in a delicious dance of dominance. He won, of course, and she lost gleefully. Sirius groaned against her lips as he rubbed his cock along her slick folds, her arousal lubricating him as the tip nudged her sensitive clit.
"Sirius," she moaned softly, her eyes pleading for more.
"Are you sure?"
"Please."
He did not need to be told twice. He bent his head to kiss her, his lips gliding over hers and swallowing the little gasp she made when he entered her. He moved slowly, trying to give her time to adjust to the stretch, but even so, her fingers tightened around the muscles of his shoulders when he buried himself completely, leaving little crescent moons in their wake.
The sound she made was strangled, her body tensing beneath his as she tried to will herself to relax. Pain blossomed through her core and radiated through her hips. Her eyes were scrunched shut, tears dancing on her lashline, but she didn’t tell him to stop.
Sirius knew that it was uncomfortable for her. He was not a small man, and he knew that he was above average. Emalia was so slick with arousal that if she hadn’t been a virgin, it might not have been so demanding to accommodate him.
His mouth skimmed over her chin, her cheeks, and her forehead, leaving a trail of sweet kisses behind. "Doing okay?" He asked, his voice straining as he held himself perfectly still. Emalia peeled her eyes open to stare into his stormy gaze, her breath shaking as it escaped.
"Yeah," she said in a whisper, her voice trembling.
"Try to relax," he encouraged, "it will feel good."
Sirius groaned when she loosened her grip on his shoulders, her nails leaving a sting in his heated skin. She made a sound in response, an apologetic whimper, "S - sorry!" The pitch of her voice rose as he slowly withdrew, her lips trembling against his, her expression somewhere between wanting him to devour her and wanting him to stop.
"S’okay, angel," he said, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at her. Sirius teased his lips against hers, plunged his tongue into her mouth, and devoured her moans. He pulled out until the crown of his cock was nestled in her snug walls, and then sank back in.
He kept a slow rhythm, stretching her and giving her plenty of time. And then it happened. Emalia wound her legs around his waist to pull him in deeper while she clawed at the sheets, grasping fistfuls of the Egyptian cotton while tossing her head back and arching her back. Fresh waves of arousal washed over his cock.
She moved with him, her hips rising to welcome the piston of his, her movements delicate and desperate—in contrast to his. Sirius moved with control, dominating her with each thrust and fucking her into the mattress until she was clawing at his back and moaning in his ear. He was a little bit rough, holding her so tight that her skin was sure to bruise in the shape of his fingers, his teeth nipping at her lips until they were slightly swollen, devouring every sound that was torn from her throat.
"Sirius!" She screeched his name, her voice high-pitched and strained, when he adjusted his position to thrust deeper, hauling her legs higher on his hips. The tip of his cock crashed into a spot that sent her suddenly skyrocketing.
"Oh."
There was nothing that could have prevented the smug smirk that found its way onto his lips or the surge of pride that welled in his chest. If she had seen it, she might have smacked him. He thrust again, deeper and harder, to hear her scream again. He moved his mouth to her ear, his breath hot, his teeth tugging on her earlobe.
"That’s it, isn’t it? The spot."
Her thighs were quivering as she arched off the mattress, her head thrown back, and her lips parted in a silent scream. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Sirius fucked her at a merciless pace, his cock catching on every mind-maddening spot along the way, crashing into her repeatedly, but it was the rough pad of his thumb swiping over the fantastic bundle of nerves that made her pussy spasm around him. Emalia screamed as her world was struck by lightning again, set on fire, shattered, and changed.
The sound of the headboard against the wall was a constant thump, thump, thump. Some part of him thought he should feel bad for being rough, especially given that this was her first time. He should have held her and loved her softly, as a gentleman would have. But he could tell from the way her pussy was squeezing him, how she was grabbing at his back to pull him closer, and how she trembled and shuddered beneath him that she was enjoying this.
"That’s it." He growled against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He rubbed harder at her sensitive clit, fingers slick in her arousal, gliding, circling, rubbing. "Cum for me, baby."
"I-I-" She stuttered and stopped. Her mind was screaming that the pleasure would kill her, break her, and ruin her. She would have said it if her throat wasn’t constricted with breathless gasps and moans, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, because it felt so fucking amazing.
"You can," he replied, knowing what she was going to say, once again not accepting no for an answer. "Cum for me, angel, I wanna feel you cum on my cock."
The third orgasm came from nowhere, ripped through her without warning, and crashed into the second. Emalia couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see straight, and couldn’t think through the haze he invoked. She clung to him as the storm swept her away; her nails dug so deeply into his skin that Sirius was certain to be bleeding.
She came undone beneath him, shuddering, panting, and moaning, her hips bucking into his as he fucked her with deep strokes. Her walls clamped so tightly around him that he groaned against her ear. His name spilled from her lips like a prayer to heaven, over and over again, like it was the only thing she could remember.
Sirius buried his face against her neck, biting and sucking, leaving behind hickeys that were sure to embarrass her later. His thrusts became wilder and less controlled as he chased his own release. He fisted the pillow beneath her head, grunting against her neck as his abdomen tightened, white dots decorating his vision. He kept going, moving on primal desire, until something snapped. His mind went blank and fogged as his body shuddered, his nerves cracking like they’d turned into life wires.
He reached his high and tumbled over the edge while kissing her, his fingers curling into fists around duck feather pillows, his knuckles white under the pressure. With a final thrust and a deep groan, he buried himself in her, his hips nestling tightly against hers. Ivory ribbons decorated her walls and filled her, and his tongue wrestled with hers.
Sirius waited until his vision cleared and her nails had lessened their hold before pulling out, leaving her feeling empty, sore, and satisfied. He fell onto his side, thankful for the cool sheets against his heated skin. With an arm wrangled around her waist, he dragged her against him, making her squeak and stare wide-eyed at him.
His fingers were buried in her hair again, dragging her mouth to his so he could kiss her with the fire of a thousand suns. Emalia couldn’t explain what it invoked; she couldn’t have imagined this moment.
They lay in a tangle of limbs, one of his arms around her, strong, pinning her to the wall of his chest, the other buried in her hair and refusing to release her lips. She cradled his face with one hand, nails of the opposite hand pressing into his chest. Their lips were inseparable.
It was comfortable.
And she wanted more.
#sirius black#sirius black x original character#sirius black x ofc#sirius black x emalia grace#sirius black smut#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black one shot#ride or die kinda love
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With a Wonder and a Wild Desire
summary: and try as she might not to fall into his eyes, she fell into the depths of them as though she were falling from the sky, tumbling through stars and galaxies until there was only him and her.
pairing: young!sirius x ofc (Emalia)
warnings: oral (fem & male receiving). heavy making-out, it's safe to assume if they're not moaning or talking, they're kissing. hints or hairpulling, dacryphilia, and biting. light spanking. little bit of dirty talk. tiny praise kink if you squint.
words: 7k
a/n: emalia is my own original character. please keep in mind these characters are portrayed at sixteen years old, the age of consent in my country. this would be set after like a virgin. i hope you enjoy.
The sun was barely starting to rise when the two of them woke the next morning. Pretty shades of purple and pink stained the awakening sky, and a ray of morning light shone through the opened curtains of her room. Emalia was quiet, even awkward.
It wasn’t that she regretted what they’d done; she felt quite the opposite. There was a dull ache that had settled in her pelvis and spread out through her hips and down her thighs. Her skin was still, hours later, goosepimpled with the feeling of his fingers holding her oh so tight and his tongue licking wet stripes here, there and everywhere.
She was happy, but she also felt different, and she assumed Sirius did as well.
The two of them having sex changed the entire dynamic of their friendship, and Emalia wasn’t certain where they went from here. So she sat on the stool in front of the vanity, towel drying her long, raven-black hair, watching him as though he were the most fascinating individual in the world, and to her he was.
His hair was still damp, hanging around his face like endless blackness in a starless sky. She caught a glimpse of the bruise along his neck where she had gotten carried away and blushed, remembering the taste of his skin as she had licked and sucked on it. She watched his fingers as he laced his boots, the silver rings contrasting with the colour of his skin. Emalia had never realised how erotic tying one's shoes could be until she found herself worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
She remembered the feeling of his hands on her body, how strong they felt, and the chill of his rings as he grabbed her hips, her thighs, and her breasts. She remembered the sting of his teeth biting into her neck again and again as she moaned and writhed beneath him. She remembered how he’d built the pressure in her core up and up until the dam broke and he released the storm that rolled through her veins.
Her thoughts paused.
The sting of his teeth biting into her neck.
Her head snapped towards the mirror. Her brows drew together as she craned her neck to get a better look. There was a trail of love bites along her collarbones. The imprint of his teeth was evident in the purpling bruise at the junction of her neck and shoulder. And there, on the side of her neck, was a big hickey that was going to be impossible to hide.
Emalia gasped, making his gaze jump to her.
"You dog!" She shouted, embarrassed, and threw the towel at him. Sirius caught it easily, tossing it onto the bed without breaking eye contact.
"What?"
"Look at me." She spun around to face him, her eyes wide and a hand clutching loosely at her throat, partially hiding the marks he’d left. A smirk split his face when he saw them, and she had to fight the urge to smack that smug expression right off his face. "I look like I’ve been attacked! You’re practically a vampire!"
Sirius chortled as he stood and moved towards her with a casual swagger that made her core clench with sudden and desperate desire. And then his hand replaced hers. His fingers curled loosely around her throat, the rough pad of his thumb stroking the bruise along the side of it with tender affection.
"I think they look good on you." He looked at her with dark eyes. "Like you’ve been thoroughly fucked and satisfied."
He forced her to look at him, holding her gaze with his own stormy hues when she tried to look away in embarrassment, her cheek flushing a pretty pale pink. And try as she might not to fall into his eyes, she fell into the depths of them as though she were falling from the sky, tumbling through stars and galaxies until there was only him and her.
His lips caught her before she could hit the ground.
Sirius kissed her soundly, without urgency. He flew through the sky with her; he felt the clouds against his skin, the sun shining on his face, and stars bursting to life in his veins. And then he was drawing away for a much-needed breath. Emalia blinked slowly to bring him into focus and to shake the haze of desire he’d invoked with something so simple as a kiss.
She held his wrist with shaking fingers, her face turned up towards him as he leant over her like some Grecian statue, perfect and marvellous. A whine tumbled past her lips; her thighs pressed tightly together to stifle the growing dampness. Her face burned beneath the intensity of his stare. "If you keep looking at me like that, I think I might die, Sirius."
Her lips moved against his as she spoke, and he felt compelled to kiss her again. His fingers stroked along the skin of her neck, feeling where it was warm to the touch, marked with the imprint of his teeth, before he buried his fingers into her hair. With the opposite hand, he stabilised himself by gripping the edge of the vanity, leaning closer and closer until her face was tipped sky-high to meet the demand of his mouth.
"And if you keep looking at me like that, Emalia," he said in a low voice, with a seriousness that made her shiver. His fingers tightened around her hair as he fought the urge to take her again then and there. "I might not leave." His words were soft—half a beautiful promise and a terrible threat—and she couldn’t decide which excited her more as she kissed him again.
Somehow she found herself on her bed again with him between her legs.
The two of them were clothed this time, though he’d worked her skirt up and bunched it at her waist so that he could shove a hand between their bodies and inside her knickers. The glide of his lips was rough, but it was his fingers drawing tight circles against her clit that had her lips parting in a moan and her hips bucking. Sirius clearly didn't need to breathe because his lips found her neck and his teeth found the already bruised flesh to suck and bite, deepening the colour of the mark that already embarrassed her.
Emalia whimpered; the sound was tinged with a pleasurable-pain as she pulled roughly on his hair, forcing him to let go with an obscene pop. One of his hands held her waist, his fingers hot and his rings cold, a whiplash of temperature that made moisture pool at her core and coat his fingers. "Sirius," she said his name in a breathless moan as her head tipped back, pleasure starting to build.
"I should go." His words were halfhearted as he circled her clenching hole, earning himself a mewling cry as she shuddered beneath him, trapped in the spell he weaved. Emalia clutched at him, gripping wildly at his wrist to stop him from pulling away as she rolled her hips to grind against his fingers after he pushed them inside. When she looked at him next, her eyes were blown wide, her thighs trembling— already so close to orgasm.
"W-why?" She gasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of her tight heat, feeling her walls start to flutter around them, the wet schlick a prelude to what was teetering on the horizon. He kept his pace slow, holding her at the edge. He found her neck again, despite the vice-like grip she held on his hair. Sirius sucked a new mark onto her skin, making her body jolt beneath him. The pleasure was starting to become too much. He licked a wet stripe up to her ear, where he nibbled at her earlobe.
"Because if I don't, we’re never going to leave this bed."
She made this little sound when he scissored his fingers inside her walls, her thighs squeezing his hips, her heels pressing hard into the mattress for purchase. She whimpered, her lips ripping into a little pout, before he kissed the expression away as she came for him. Every one of her muscles rippled, her body convulsed, and a white-static sound overcame her, placing itself behind her eyes as she threw her head back.
“Oh, oh, there, Sirius, f-fuck, don’t stop!”
Emalia sagged against the mattress; her bones turned to jelly, and her chest heaving with heavy pants. And he kissed her until, by the divine intervention of some cosmic force, he managed to separate from her long enough to make it to the front door. After goodbyes had been said, as he was stepping down the porch steps, she caught his wrist, whirling him around to face her once more.
And she kissed him so deeply that he thought he saw heaven.
The booming base of some muggle rock song was blaring from the speakers. Sirius could feel the beat of the bass guitar reverberating in his chest, his fingers tapping the beer can in his hand almost absentmindedly. His stormy eyes were narrowed, and his brows were pinched together as he watched the makeshift dancefloor across the room.
Emalia was there with Lily, dancing with Marlene and Docus, seemingly without a care in the world. He'd swear that someone was sitting on his chest because of how hard it was to breathe. The two of them had hung out with the group over the past few weeks, never alone, and while she was always her sweet, sassy self, things had been different.
Not bad, not worse, just different.
Each time he spoke to her, she seemed to be off with the fairies, soft-spoken and avoiding his gaze, entirely unlike herself. It was almost as though she were a shy, bumbling preteen again. He’d maybe have teased her about it if he wasn’t so… concerned? Worried? Frightened? He wasn't even sure what he was feeling.
But right now? Watching her across the room—the way her tight red dress was riding high on her thighs, how she laughed, how her arms were wrapped around Lily's neck, holding her close so that their bodies mashed together while they swung their hips and tossed their hair—he was completely distracted. Sirius held onto the memories of her: how her nails left little crescent moons on his shoulders; how her pussy felt wrapped so tightly around his cock; how she’d kissed him more than any girl ever had.
"Pads?"
They’d fallen asleep in her bed while kissing, arms wrapped around each other. And in the morning, he’d had her again, woken her with a kiss, and then trailed them down her stomach to the wetness between her thighs. She’d cum twice that morning, both times crying out his name as her thighs quivered around his waist. And when he finally left, she’d kissed him at the door, a hand fisted in his—
"Sirius!"
He jumped, startled from his thoughts, and his head whipped around to stare at James. "What?"
"You’ve been staring at them for, like, an hour, everything alright, mate?"
There was a hint of worry in James’ voice that had his gaze flicking back towards the girls. None of them seemed to have noticed his staring, though he was certain that more than once Emalia had sent a sweet little smile over her shoulder to him, a come-hither stare that was a far cry from sweet or innocent. He’d assumed she’d spoken to Lily about losing her virginity; he knew that it was important to her, as she’d said before in the past that she didn’t want to give it to just anyone.
He knew that had been a bone of contention with her last boyfriend. Sirius had overheard him one day talking about her; his words were vulgar and filled with all the licentious things he wanted to do to her, right up until the moment Sirius punched him square in the mouth. Just the thought of that git annoyed him. He assumed the redhead would have then told James about it.
Except as he looked at the girls once more, he thought otherwise. If Emalia had told Lily, and if Lily had told James, he'd have heard about it long before now. James had never been good at keeping secrets. "Nah, mate, nothing's wrong."
Sirius knew none of the trio were particularly stupid; if they were, none of them would be passing their classes. So when he met Remus' narrowed, speculating stare, he swallowed a mouthful of beer to keep from blurting out the truth.
It was a mess.
Emalia and Remus were good friends. Sirius and Remus were good friends. And then he and Emalia had started to grow closer, and he knew that some times Remus felt left out, and a little possessive. Emalia had been his friend first, after all, and neither of them wanted to hurt him.
"They just look like they're having fun, that's all."
"They also look completely drunk," James added with a laugh.
Thankfully, the boys left it at that and returned to their drinks.
Almost an hour later, the girls were still on the dance floor. Emalia had intended to move to the kitchen for another drink and to take a well-needed break to rest her aching feet, but then Lily dragged James to the dancefloor, and it was only natural that the other boys would join them, albeit reluctantly.
Sirius was behind her now. The moment was dangerously intimate. His mouth was at the nape of her neck, and an unmistakable heat was swelling in his chest as she swayed against him. He pressed a hand against her stomach to pull her tighter against him, the fingertips of the other hand biting into her hip to try and slow the movement of her hips.
Emalia leant her head back against his shoulder to stare up at him, her eyes shining with a myriad of emotions and desires, glassy from the drinks she'd had. Sirius might have thought the look on her face was innocent if she wasn't grinding her ass against him like she was purposely trying to get him hard.
He felt the drag of fabric against his aching cock with each sway. The first time she’d done it, he assumed it had been an accident. The second time he'd tucked them away at the back of the dance floor, where others wouldn't see them.
"You're killing me, sweet girl," he breathed against her temple, his expression hard as he tried to will his cock to soften. Emalia laughed, the sound teasing as she laid a hand over his, her nails teasing at the flesh of his wrist as she pressed harder against him, earning a groan as he hid his face against her neck.
She could feel the metal studs of his belt and dangling chains through the barrier of their clothing, could feel his cock straining through his black denim jeans, and wanted desperately to be naked with him again.
She smiled up at him. Sirius returned her smile, though it didn’t quite reach his stormy eyes. "Are we okay, Ema?" He asked quietly so that only she would hear the words. The smile dropped from her mouth and was replaced with something else.
"Are we not okay?"
He didn’t answer, causing her heart to kick into overdrive. Emalia turned in his arms and faced him. She stared up at him with those pretty blue eyes, so full of worry, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.
"Sirius, what’s wrong?"
"Nothings wrong. It's just that I've noticed that things have been different between us. You've been distant. I'm hoping it's not because we, well, had sex."
"Oh, no, no, it’s not like that," she answered quickly, ducking her head so he wouldn’t see the blush creeping up her neck and into her face or the look in her eyes. It wasn’t that she regretted things—certainly not what they’d done or how it had ended the morning after.
Rather, Emalia wanted it again; she wanted him again, and her emotions were intense and confusing. Until a few months ago, she’d never thought of him like this—of course, she’d always thought he was good-looking and charismatic. She’d even touched herself from time to time, imagining it was him, but he was Sirius.
He was the boy she’d known for years—the one who was one of Remus’s best friends, the one who had held her for days and weeks after her mother passed, and who held her again when they’d lowered the casket, holding her with strong arms as she sobbed. Sirius was the boy who’d made her get up in the morning and who'd made sure that she ate.
And then one day, he wasn’t that boy anymore.
One day, he was a young man with eyes that carried storms. A young man whose touch enticed shivers down her spine and electricity to ignite in her veins. His smile had her thinking about his lips for days and how they'd taste. Emalia was fascinated by the strength of his arms, the way he wore his rings, and how she felt safe in the shelter of his body.
And then she’d told him to kiss her, and he’d done it, and he’d ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t seem to put out. It smouldered day and night, until thoughts of him consumed her.
"I’m sorry I’ve been acting strange, Sirius. It’s just that I didn’t… uh, well, I don’t know how to talk about it." Emalia said softly, refusing to look at him as she tripped over her words. She felt like a bumbling twit, unable to articulate her thoughts. "I don’t want things to be weird between us. Or with Remus, but I don’t regret it."
Sirius tapped a finger beneath her chin, tipping her face up to him. Her breath caught in her throat for just a moment as she imagined he might kiss her there in front of everyone. He didn't, and she couldn't decide whether to be relieved or disappointed.
"Yeah?" He asked, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah," Emalia replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she met his gaze. Sirius' hand returned to her hip, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, his fingers tracing gentle circles against the fabric of her dress. "I was worried that things might have changed between us, that I was going to lose my best girl. I think the others were starting to pick up on all the mutual pining and sexual tension too."
Emalia took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as the music continued to play in the background, his words making her brain momentarily short-circuit. His best girl - his, his, his. "It's not that things have changed, not exactly. Everything feels more… intensified. I keep thinking about it, about you. It was fun—a lot of fun. Too much fun."
"Too much? What do you mean?"
"Too much because I want it again. I want you again." She risked a peek up at him only to find him smirking smugly, his hands on her hips tightening, pulling her firmly against him. Sirius smiled at her, his expression positively wolfish, and she whimpered softly in response.
Sirius stood at the door to the Grace family estate once again; this time, however, there was a lump the size of a bludger lodged in his throat. The air had become trapped in his lungs when his knuckles rapped on the door, and his mind wildly raced from one thought to the next. This was a strange situation for him, not because he was a virgin or inexperienced, but because this wasn’t just any girl.
Emalia was different from all the others who'd taken him home. Unlike them, she'd taken the time to get to know him. During those long nights spent at St. Mungo's, her sitting in his lap when there was only one seat, her head on his shoulder when weariness took its toll, and the laughter shared with her and her mother, the two had formed a deeper connection. Emalia was special compared to the other flings and one-night stands.
She was one of his closest friends, and he thought that maybe that was why he felt like he couldn’t breathe when the doorknob jiggled and turned. There was a small part of him that was worried—perhaps even afraid—that their friendship might fall apart because they'd had sex.
But even with that thought beating at his brain, when the door opened, he calmed considerably. The bludger that had been in his throat fell through his body to settle in his groin, causing a dull, aching need as he took in the sight of her.
She looked surprised to see him, her soft blue eyes widening ever so slightly and a small smile crossing her lips. She was dressed simply; the inside of the house warm enough to not need layers to stave off the cold. A pair of denim shorts that fell to mid-thigh, a knitted sweater that was a few sizes too big, and a pair of pretty white socks. The neck of the sweater was falling askew to reveal a shoulder.
Her hair was still damp from a shower, falling in waves down her back. He could see the outline of her breasts against the knitted fabric, how she wasn’t wearing anything under it, and how her nipples pebbled beneath his attention. A lump of a different kind had found his throat.
"Hey, Ema," he began, his voice deep and his lips tipped into a lazy smirk, only to be silenced when her arms went around his neck. Emalia pulled him inside, letting the door slam shut with a heavy thud as she pushed up against him, letting him feel the swell of her breasts against his chest as she found his mouth for a desperate kiss.
Sirius, as awestruck as he was, was quick to respond. His hands brushed down her back and settled on the curve of her hips as he turned and pinned her to the door, just as he had done the last time. She gasped against his mouth, pain shooting up her spine in a pleasant way that had moisture pooling at her core.
Her hands moved, one to the back of his neck, one in his hair, holding his mouth to hers as he grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her and pulling her legs around his hips. Sirius licked along the seam of her lips and pushed his tongue inside when they parted, chasing her own. "Missed me, angel?" He hummed while dragging his mouth down her neck, finding that spot at the junction of her shoulder and neck that had her heart racing and her legs turning to jelly just like the last time.
"Missed you," she echoed, her fingers tightening around his inky-black hair. Sirius pushed harder against her, pulling her hips to collide with his own, making the fabric of her shorts drag deliciously against her pussy. His cock was already hard and aching, and the sound she made in response raced through him to stoke his own desires. "I need you," she went on to say seconds before her lips crashed into his, desperate, needy, and fucking addictive.
His answering groan was equally desperate. He’d thought about her in the days since their last tryst: the sound of her voice when she’d repeated his name as though it was the only thing she could remember; the taste of her when she’d cum on his tongue; how she’d clawed at him and pulled him in; how her pussy felt stretched around his cock; how she’d looked beneath him; how she’d wanted more that morning; how she’d kissed him at the door when he left.
He moved his hands beneath her shirt, fingers of one hand splaying possessively along her ribs while he palmed a breast with the other. "You should have said something sooner, angel," he replied with a laugh, his words muffled as he ran his tongue over her racing pulse. "I’d have come over sooner."
"Upstairs."
Emalia had barely gotten the word out before her bedroom door was slammed shut with an awful bang. Sirius made her sit on the ledge of the black vanity, which he was so certain belonged to her mother, and then fell to his knees. He pulled her denim shorts and knickers down her legs, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder before memorising every inch of her thighs with his mouth, his lips finding every curve and dimple.
Emalia fisted a hand in his hair, her lips parting in a soft moan that morphed into a whine when he pulled back to admire how she was already glistening with arousal. "Such a pretty pussy," he teased with a smirk, making her face flush a wonderful shade of pastel pink.
“Sirius!”
She whispered his name in response, embarrassment creeping into her expression as she started to draw her thighs together to stop his staring. Sirius was quick to intervene, placing his hands on her thighs to spread them again as he scooted closer. His touch was electric, sending wisps of fire shooting through her veins.
"Don’t hide," he said, his fingertips gliding up her thighs until he spread her wet folds with his thumbs, exposing her clit and the damp curls. "It’s s’fucking pretty. Tastes amazing too." He didn’t give her time to recover from that. Sirius ducked his head and flicked the tip of his tongue against her clit, making her hips buck in his hands.
Emalia buried her fingers in his hair to anchor herself as pleasure swept through her. Sirius flattened his tongue, running it from her entrance to her clit, gathering her arousal, and letting it slide down the back of his throat. He hadn't been lying; to him, she tasted divine.
"So fucking good." Sirius licked and stroked her folds at first, his tongue wicked, snaking between them to taste the sweet-tangy wetness. And then he sucked hard on her clit, his lips closing around her sensitive button and drawing it between his wet, plump lips until it popped free with a pornographic sound.
The moan she made was pure perfection. Emalia let her head fall back, her fingers buried in his hair, holding him to her as he started to pull a tight knot in her stomach. Except he pulled back, his chin dripping with her arousal, her folds shiny with his saliva, and she looked at him with a pout, whining softly.
Sirius scooted closer after moving one of her legs over his shoulder so that her socked foot dangled in the air. He pulled her closer too, so that only his hands at her hips kept her from toppling to the ground. And then he ducked his head again to push his tongue between her folds and lapped at her entrance. She gasped and pulled roughly on his hair when he nibbled ever so gently at her clit.
"Stop teasing me," she said in a harsh whisper, making him laugh, the sound vibrating through her pussy and to her core. And then he feasted like a man possessed, as though he were dying and only the sweet nectar of her cum could quench his thirst. And when he knew that she was close, he pushed two fingers into her pussy, feeling her walls quiver around them while he spelled his name with the tip of his tongue.
S. He felt her tremble and heard her gasp. I. Her nails scraped at his scalp when she pulled his hair. R. Her hips bucked, pushing her pussy against his mouth. I. Her walls fluttered around his pumping digits as warmth spread through her hips. U. She gasped again, panting something he didn't hear when her thighs squeezed around his head. S. She came crying out his name, her entire body trembling.
He didn’t stop—not until she was whimpering and trying to get away from his wicked tongue. Only then did he stand. He grabbed her chin gently to encourage her to stand on shaking legs and kissed her hard, the sweet-tangy taste of her cum on his tongue as he pushed it between her lips.
Emaila’s hands were trembling as she shoved the jacket off his shoulders, desperate to feel his bare skin. His shirt followed, pulled over his head in a hurry, only to be thrown carelessly away. The rest of their clothes followed as they tumbled to the bed. Sirius lay on his back as she straddled his thighs, the tips of her manicured nails tracing the outline of one of the tattoos along his ribs, making him shudder.
Each time she found one of the scars left by his mother's abuse, she paused, and he'd tense. And then she would kiss him hard, pushing against him, making him focus on her and not the trauma of his past. She took her time exploring his body, kissing him slowly and deeply before wrapping her fingers around his shaft.
His girth filled her fingers easily. He groaned against her lips when she gave a few experimental tugs.
She’d already known that he was big, but that didn’t stop the way she worried at her lower lip with her teeth as she sat back, blue eyes falling to his cock in her hand. "Like this?" She asked, watching the way his eyelids fluttered and how he stared at her with dark eyes. Sirius wrapped his fingers around hers to strengthen her grip as he thrust into her palm.
"Like that," he instructed, letting his hand fall to his side when she found the right rhythm. His eyes closed when she ran her thumb over his sensitive head, gathering the pre-cum that was beading at the tip and using it to help her fingers glide up and down his shaft.
But then his eyes flew open, and he looked down at her. Sirius hadn’t felt her moving down the bed; it was only when those perfectly plump lips enveloped the head of his cock that he realised what she was doing. "You don't—shit."
But he fell silent when she bobbed up and down on his cock for the first time.
Emalia was clumsy and kept losing rhythm. More than once, his cock sprang from her mouth and slapped against her chin, which just made her blush and giggle before wrangling it back between her pretty lips. But despite her inexperience, he enjoyed the feeling, the clumsiness. Spit dribbled from the corners of her mouth, and she worked what she couldn't fit with her hand.
The first time he felt her teeth, he hissed, his hand flying to her hair, crushing the strands in his fingers to give it a rough tug. That was enough to get her to be more careful. Emalia adjusted her position and then redoubled her efforts, swallowing him down inch by inch with a throaty moan. Sirius couldn't stop his heels from digging into the mattress or his hips from snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into her mouth, until her nose was pressed against the wiry hair at the base.
He felt a pang of guilt as she gagged around him and didn’t stop her from pulling away. Her lips were kiss-bruised when he found them again. Emalia kissed him as though it kept her breathing, like it gave her life as she settled above him, her hands on his shoulders, ebony-black hair falling around them like a curtain veil as she bent down to suck a dark mark into his neck, making him groan.
"Now who's teasing?" He asked with a laugh, only for his breath to catch in his throat when she rolled her hips experimentally. His reaction amused her; he could tell as much from the small smile on her lips.
"Oh, it's definitely me," Emalia replied. She rubbed her pussy along the length of his erection, getting him slick with her arousal. Sirius held her thighs tightly, the rings on his fingers pressing into her soft skin as the head of his cock pressed against her entrance.
Emalia moved slowly, seating herself on him an inch at a time, her lips trembling against him while he swallowed her little gasps of pain. He knew that there would still be pain and discomfort, so he kept kissing her, fisting a hand in her hair to keep her mouth cemented to his, feeling her tits pressed against his chest, tongue twirling with hers until he felt her move above him.
Emalia kissed him one last time with bruising force, until he was lightheaded and desperate for air, before rising up and sitting back. She braced herself by putting her hands on his abdomen as she rocked her hips. Her tits bounced as she moved; her nails dug into his skin just a bit; and the heat of her palms burned a fire through his stomach. He could feel how wet she was and how fucking tight she was as she rode him.
And he liked watching her.
She was slowly gaining confidence. His deep groans encouraged her each time she tried something different, first rocking back and forth, then swirling her hips in a circle, and then grinding down on him. "Shit, just like that," he breathed out in a strained voice, his fingertips biting into her hips so that her skin bruised in the shape of them again. "You're so tight - fuck - feels so fucking good."
Sirius felt her walls tighten at his praise, a prelude to the building pleasure and the orgasm looming over the horizon. "I wish you’d said something earlier, baby." The way he said the words, with dark desire and possession, made her shiver. "I could have been taking care of you all this time."
His hands roamed as he spoke, the rough pads of his fingers trailing up her stomach to cup the weight of her tits in his palms. He rolled his thumbs over her nipples, amused by the way they seemed to harden beneath his touch. The movement of her hips stuttered as she laughed, losing the rhythm in her inexperience.
"I wasn’t sure you’d want to," she said. Sirius grabbed her hips roughly and pulled her down onto his cock as he thrust upwards, maintaining the pace for her. Except then he was sitting up, dark brows drawn together with confusion, as he grabbed a fistful of her hair when she tried to hide her face against his neck. He tugged on her hair, making her look at him. The new angle had him hitting deeper, with the head of his cock hitting that spot that made tears glisten on her lashline.
Emalia clung to him, arms around his shoulders, gasping between frantic kisses. She moaned into his mouth when he kissed her hard, his teeth tugging on her lower lip before he spoke. "Who says I wouldn’t want this?"
Despite the electricity sneaking through her veins and the full body spasms lurking beneath the surface of her skin, she laughed, her lips pulling into a blissful smile as she stared at him with lust-blown eyes. "What do you want then?" Her voice was shaking with trepidation, as well as the force of the orgasm he was holding her on the verge of.
Sirius ducked his head to spread open-mouth kisses along her neck before sucking a mark just below her ear. "I want to feel you cumming on my cock, angel." He knew that she was close—her pussy was squeezing him in an exquisite vice grip. Her arousal coated every inch of his shaft and dampened the dark curls at its base.
She cried out when he made a particularly deep thrust, his aim never having faltered during their conversation. Her thighs trembled. "Maybe you need to do a better job fucking me, and I will."
Her words surprised him.
Not the vulgarity of them, which Sirius thought was stupidly hot, but the challenge in her voice. Sirius had never imagined he’d hear such a comment from Emalia-fucking-Grace.
She was a picture-perfect pureblood with features cut from marble and a tongue of old-world elegance. She was a socialite who danced circles around their classmates with biting intelligence, yet here she was, wrapped around him in a lover's embrace, her pussy creaming around his cock and features twisted in a cock-drunk expression, and she still had the audacity to challenge him.
His hand came down on her arse without warning, open-palmed and hard enough to leave a handprint behind, making her jump in his embrace. Her walls clamped tightly on his cock, and she whined at him, desperate and needy, so he did it again, and again. On the fourth time, he kept his hand on her arse, fingers kneading the bright red print to lessen the sting. The pain seared through her veins alongside pleasure, leaving her melting in his arms.
Sirius could have played with her. He could have told her that only good girls were allowed to cum. He could have made her beg for it. He knew that she would if he told her to. But she was looking at him with those pretty blue eyes like he hung the stars in the sky, and he couldn't—he couldn't deny her a damn thing.
He couldn’t figure out when it happened, when she worked her way beneath his skin and into his heart with those pretty eyes and perfect smile. He’s wasn’t complaining, he just doesn’t know when it happened.
"If you want to cum that badly, baby, all you had to do was ask." His words were undeniably smug. Sirius pulled her down to the mattress so that she was sprawled beneath him. He spread her legs, pushing one of them into the mattress with a heavy palm, and pulled the other one to lay up on his chest, her knee bent over his shoulder.
And then he was fucking her harder, if that was even possible.
Each thrust was as deep as possible, so that his heavy balls slapped against her arse and her toes curled while she clawed at the sheets. "Sirius, Sirius, I'm gonna cum!" Emalia arched off the mattress as pleasure ruined her; the familiar warmth of orgasm ripped through her core and then every one of her muscles.
"Sirius!" She screamed his name as lightning engulfed her. And then he was kissing her, his tongue in her mouth, swallowing every shuddering cry she made. She was crying, the tears having finally fallen, and she couldn't stop shaking. Sirius grabbed her by the chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing into her cheeks so that she was pouting when he kissed her again.
"S'fucking pretty, angel." Emalia grabbed him by the hair, her fingers pulling tightly on the roots. She was still trembling beneath the unrelenting piston of his hips when she came again without warning, and the pleasure quickly turned into too much.
With a scream, she flung her head back, and Sirius attacked her throat just as he'd done last time, biting and sucking until she was marked with purpling hickeys. She would be angry; he knew that, but he didn't care because seeing her like this because of him hurtled him towards his own release.
He lost the rhythm as his orgasm hit him with the force of a train. He drove deep and stayed there, his hips nestling snugly against hers as he came. Her hands smoothed along the muscles of his back, feeling the tension in them as the warmth of his release coated her walls.
"I think you killed me," he panted against her neck, breath hot like lava and lips drawn into a lazy smirk. His stomach ached from how hard he'd cum, a layer of sweat shining on his skin. Sirius rolled away, once again grateful for the cold sheets against his sweat-slicked skin. He wrangled an arm around her waist and dragged her against his chest once she'd stretched her legs.
"That was—"
"Fucking incredible, I know."
"So, I'm your best girl." Emalia said. There was a hint of tease in her voice.
Their hearts had long since settled back into rhythm as the sunset. The room was washed in a warm white glow from the lamps on either bedside table. The bed was unmade; the sheet was on the floor at the foot of the bed, and the comforter was tucked around their waists where they lay together.
"What's that?" Sirius asked as he absentmindedly brushed his hand down her back, over the curve of her hips, and back up, enjoying the way she shivered beneath his touch. He touched her because he could and because he couldn't get enough of her. Sirius looked down to where she was curled into his side, her head resting on his chest, and her leg thrown over his hip.
She was staring up at him with those pretty eyes again, making his heart soar and a lazy smile stretch across his kiss-bitten lips. Her skin was marked with bruises; his teeth, his rings, and his fingers were all visible on her fair skin. He was in a similar state; her nails had left shallow scratches down his back, and her teeth had left their mark on his neck.
"That's what you said the other day at that party. That you were worried you'd lose your best girl," she elaborated, rising up to hover closer. Emalia cupped his face in her palm, her thumb teasing his lower lip. He opened them, his tongue swirling around the digit. "Does that mean I'm your best girl?"
A smirk broke across his face. Sirius pulled her into his lap so that she was straddling his waist again. He sat up and pulled her against his chest so that the soft swell of her breasts was pressing tightly against him, her nipples hardening beneath the stimulation. He wrapped his arms around her, marveling at how soft and utterly perfect she felt.
"You're my only girl."
#sirius black#sirius black one shot#sirius black smut#sirius black x ofc#sirius black x emalia grace#sirius black x original character#emalia grace#ride or die kinda love
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Those eyes of yours could swallow stars, galaxies and universes.
What hope did I ever have?
cute little moodboard for emalia and sirius because they are my current and forever otp. also because their aesthetics are polar opposite and honestly i'm here for it.
#emalia grace#sirius black#sirius x emalia#sirius black moodboard#sirius black x ofc#sirius black x original character#ride or die kinda love#sirius black x emalia grace
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too hot : game
definition : a game where two players kiss without stopping or without touching each other. if one player touches, he/she loses. the winner gets to do whatever he/she wants to the loser.
#sirius black#emalia grace#sirius x emalia#sirius x ofc#sirius black moodboard#emalia grace moodboard#sirius black x original character#sirius black imagine
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hello everyone ❤️
i’m wondering if anyone might be interested in reading a preview of the new sirius x emalia one shot, as well as a new drabble for james potter.
i would love for you to have read ‘like a virgin’ and to be comfortable giving feedback and pointing out mistakes. i would love some honest feedback about what is working, what isn’t and what you think could be taken out, and what you think should be expanded on.
please keep in mind none of this work is complete as it is still in the editing/writing stage. if you’re interested please feel free to send me a message. ❤️ 😘
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