cribellate | SERAPHIM DIAS

[It's the smile that's the thing that drives him maddest of all. Yeah, the thought of her out there somewhere, getting herself off, watching other people going at it--that's maddening, that's awful, that's most of what keeps him looking. But when she looks at him during the day and smiles like that, it's like a jolt of that same energy--but during the day, around everyone else, and then he's just got to go to class and pretend as if it doesn't matter.

He's cleverer about it now. He knows something more of her, he knows what to listen for and where to look, and there's a whisper as he's passing by the astronomy tower--he's quieter than he was his first time out, it's not a whisper meant for him but one that he knows well, in tone and implication if not voice--and then he sees her.

It seems unreal, at first, that he'd have found any success. But there she is, and Merlin, but there's a sense of satisfaction from finding her at all, let alone what's going to come after.

He walks until he's just behind her, also hidden behind that witch, safe from the couple.]

Fancy meeting you here.

[She jumps, because he actually surprises her. She turns her head to look over and presses her fingers over her lips, like she's shushing him. Whoever they are, she can't quite see, but she reaches for Sirius (funny, she's thinking about him by his first name) to take his hands. Her fingers are just-]

Finally a point for you.

[ She whispers it, but the other couple, they're not looking. There is something dark in her voice, a tone that hasn't been there before.]

[He grins, vaguely. Her fingers. He can still remember the press of them that first time he'd stumbled upon her, the heat of them, in his mouth--and just now, when she'd pressed them to his lips--and he twists his hands so he can grip back at her.]

Finally. Who are your friends?

[He doesn't look away from her, even though he's asking about them. They're not really that interesting. Whatever they're doing is tame, compared to this. He's done it. He's got her now, finally.]

Do you really care?

[She pushes against him, body to body, bites her lower lip.]

I don't know. I've been watching, all I can catch is the color of their patches, but not their faces.

Gryffindors.

[He noticed that as well; he flicks his eyes up to her face. They're standing so close to one another that he can hardly see all of her, just a little glimpse of eyes, and he narrows his, with a little grin, as he leans down. Even closer now, their mouths nearly touching--]

Idiots. They've no idea on how not to be caught. You're far cleverer. Elusive.

[His hand on her hip, his fingers gripping just a little, tugging her forward.]

Still able to be caught.

[She can't help but focus on his eyes, at least for a moment, on that bright gray that even in the dark she can make out, her body flush against him]

I think you like it, knowing that catching me is hard, and managing to do it anyway.

[She tangles her fingers in his, but it's not a tender, romantic gesture. Instead she brings it down to her inner thigh, a few inches above her knee, and starts to raise her skirt with his hand]

I think it's all the better for you've earned it.

[There's no arguing or resisting that guidance--if anything, he's eager for it, and pushes his fingers up a little faster, pushing against her grip and tracing up along the inside her thigh, up and up. His breath is already a little short, but that can't be helped, that's down to the tone of her voice and the close press of her body and where his hand is, well beneath her skirt now--]

And have I earned it, miss?

Now I hardly think you really want to give me the power to say no again.

[But then she kisses him, and it's hardly a kiss that says no.

She pushes his fingers right up to her underwear, not hard, but then she moves her fingers away from his and the catch of her breath tells his exactly where they went.]

[As if she'd say no, right now. But he doesn't say that aloud, he doesn't want to challenge her to prove him wrong. Instead, he lets his fingers linger where they are--a little more breathless still--and his eyes study her face, quickly, as he listens to the sharpness of her breath--and then he slips his fingers up, following hers, with the intent to replace hers--]

[She moves her hand away, then, and kisses him again, letting him have the space and moving her hips just slightly when he does something she particularly likes. She has no reservations, although perhaps she should. But no, she just takes her free hand and presses it against his crotch to avoid trying to climb him like a tree.]

Is that what you've been after?

[Merlin. His breath catches at that press of her hand--it's a good thing she's broken their kiss to ask that question, because he'd have broken it himself if she hadn't-- and he's not so crass or cruel that he stops the movement of his hand, but he does lean against hers, a little, pressing forward--]

I'm after everything.

[It comes out a little breathless, but he's grinning, too--]

Oh-

[That's just a gasping little breath, and she squirms a bit, more than happily, her free hand going around his shoulders. The hand on his crotch presses back, her fingers skirting the outline of his cock through his trousers-]

Get me off, and I'll make it more than worth your while.

[Merlin, he thinks again, but mercifully doesn't say it aloud. Not that it's not obvious, in the hitch of his breath, and his legs nearly go weak--]

Promise?

[But he steps forward a little, to back her against the statue. The Gryffindors are forgotten by now, long forgotten, and anything else doesn't matter. Anyone could catch them at this and he'd hardly care. He wants to hear that little breath again of hers--in the dark, he can hardly see her expression, but he can imagine it, and he twists his hand a little, teasing at her--]

Promise.

[She says it with another hitch to her breath, if he keeps twisting his fingers that way - but she moves her hand away from him, back under her skirt, to take his thumb and skirt it over her clitoris, then press there.]

Here, don't neglect me -

[She's just breathing the words out, because he may not care, but she will, if they get caught. But then he presses there again and she lets out a tiny, whimpery kind of keen, the kind of noise that shows exactly how much she's enjoying herself, because she is.

Oh, she will make it worth his while, she presses her mouth against his neck, just under his ear, and sucks, there will be a mark, but it's cold enough for scarves, she thinks, and he doesn't care, not like she does]

[It's not as if he's never done this before--but not so often that he'd call himself a bloody expert. But he can take cues easily enough, he can do as he's told--there's an obedience in him, sometimes, that betrays him, something eager to please that he can usually fight down--but here, it's an asset, and he presses where she says to press, working against that exact spot, the hard little bit of nerves, keeping up with her--

And when she kisses him, just like that--it makes him gasp a little, bursts stars over his vision, and this is so going to be worth it, he can tell--]

[It's a bit more - a little more pressure, a little more of this environment, a little more of his touch on her skin - before she finishes, shuddering against him and just gasping out. She pulls back, looks incredibly satisfied, for all that he might not see that expression on her face, one that makes her look like she would do anything for him.

In another moment, she kisses him, slowly, then looks up and falls to her knees, her hands running down his sides until they settle on his hips. This isn't an act she's done very often, but she has enthusiasm at her side, and also a measure of control. She knows exactly how to tease to draw it out, to make him overlook the faults in technique.

She undoes his trouser fastenings, reaches in, draws him out, and looks up. She can barely see him - she can make out his features but that's almost it.]

I guess this does make me a little bit of an unrepentant slut, doesn't it?

[Just the sound of that gasp sent a prickle of chills up his spine--but then she's moving away, dropping down, and Merlin, that's direct enough. When he looks down at her, on her knees, he can hardly see her in the dark. Just the glint of her eyes, the glint of her mouth as she talks--her hand already on him, and that makes it rather difficult to string a sentence together mentally, let alone talk--]

But one that knows how to have f-fun.

[And he grins a little, despite himself, despite his breathlessness--]

Maybe my favorite unrepentant slut--

Maybe?

[She takes him in her mouth, then, but only the tip, her tongue flat on the head of his cock, because she's determined to change this from a maybe to an absolutely. Those girls in Slytherin, they might do this for him, but she doubts they get off first, she doubts that he remembers them after.

She's determined to make him remember her, although she's not sure why. She spends a few moments there, teasing, not moving much, but then she moves. It's a sloppy, wet kind of blowjob, there isn't finesse to it, not yet. She keeps on hand on the inside of his trousers, just at his hip, and the other at the base of his cock, not tight, just to keep things steady, in control.]

[Maybe. He immediately regrets that maybe. It could just be the moment, of course--she could be bloody terrible at this and he'd not notice because he's so taken up with the feeling of it--but when she starts, it's good, for all its sloppiness, it's good. That only makes it dirtier, and he likes that--God, he likes that, and his head tips back with a breathless little moan--]

Merlin--

[It's an oath, but he really wants to say her name, actually; her name is right on his lips--not yet, it's too soon, and he slips his hand forward to grip, lightly, at her hair, not to assert control so much as to steady himself--]

[She lets out a whimper when his hand goes to her hair, not because it hurts but because she can, and doesn't let up. He'll finish with her even if it means on her, she doesn't care. It's a moment of silence for her, nothing in her brain is going on about marks or her family or magic or what she's going to do when she leaves, all that there is here is Sirius Black - Merlin, Sirius Black, heir to the Black family, Slytherin's favored child, the boy who hates everyone, gasping for breath -

It makes her redouble her efforts with her mouth. She never goes too far, no, she doesn't want to gag, but she uses her hand to stroke the part she can't get to-]

[That's better--worse--better, and the sound he makes is quiet, almost vulnerable--bitten back, he bites at his lip to try to contain it but no luck, and his fingers tighten in her hair, just a little cruelly--and there is nothing else in this moment but her, and this, this, and he will finish entirely too soon, he knows that, but he can't help it, either, it's too good--

His breath is more of a pant than anything else, ragged, louder when he gets closer, and closer, and his fingers wind a little tighter as he pushes forward, once more, and then finishes, hard, with a moan--still in her mouth, or on her, he doesn't know, it's a mindless climax, too hot to think.]

[It's both, it's in her and on her, and she's standing up, wiping her mouth off, looking slightly wrecked - she'll have to shower, she thinks, but that's all right, it was worth it.

There is something satisfied to her, when she stands up and looks up at him.]

Well then.

[Girls shouldn't look so good when they're a mess. Usually they don't--there's satisfaction in dishevelment, but it's not the same as looking good with it, but she does, sort of--red mouth and flushed dirty cheeks--but her expression is unchanged, sharp and cunning, and as he tries to come back to his senses--no easy fucking feat, not after that--he reaches down to touch his fingertips against her cheek, his grin a little shaky.]

I'd say that was-- well worth it.

Now I hope you don't leave me desolate and without your company after that-

[She means in the long run, not at this moment. There is the slighest wobble of her voice, she wants more of him, but she knows he may just never let it happen again, now that the element of mystery isn't there, even if she didn't give.him everything. It's not a feeling that she likes. However she's tucking him in, doing his trousers back up, and the moment passes quickly. She smiles again like it was never there in the first place.

She turns to find the Gryffindors still there, still kissing, completely oblivious, or maybe they simply didn't care.]

[The wobble, he doesn't notice. His own voice is shaky; it's easy not to make too much of hers being the same, to not think that there might be different reasons. Her hands are easy, capable, her smile is teasing still, and when she turns away, he just wants her to turn back again. It's easy for him to get addicted, to want more--and it will pass, and fade, it always does, but for now his focus is on her.

So when she turns to watch the Gryffindors, he steps in towards her, he slips one arm around her waist and tugs her back against him, leans down so his mouth is right by her ear.]

D'you mean right now? You've got my company, right now. You've got quite a lot right now.

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but now i can't tag this thread at work weeps

what has our hubris wrought!!!!

PAIN......

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