The True Colors of Maradeur's Flag: Olive
July 8, 2025 at 5:51 PM
Notes:
Olive - They called a truce at dawn.
Sirius Black/James Potter
a little bit of smut
The thing was to keep it quiet, and that was almost impossible with James Potter. He was the moaner, and at times when all his blood rushed to his dick, he also couldn’t keep his mouth shut, the filthy words and ideas were parting his lips just the way Surius did with his fingers and tongue.
“Will you shut up now if I take out my fingers?” whispered Sirius and almost yelped when that son of a bitch clenched his teeth. It didn’t hurt that bad but the intent to hurt was there in the wet depth of hazel eyes. “You are such a bitch sometimes, Prongs… I hate you.”
James moaned slightly, almost whimpered, and Sirius had to think of something, anything other than the warm and sleek tongue moving around his fingers. He almost managed to, almost succeeded… and then the bastard started sucking, and all was lost for Sirius Black.
Every time with James Potter was a war. Sirius quickly learned that James wasn’t at war only with him. Young mister Potter, the quidditch star, the pain in the arse for so many professors and classmates, the self-proclaimed king of Gryffindor had absolutely zero instinct for self-preservation, and that is why he was at war with Sirius, with his desires and himself in equal proportions. He didn’t moan to make Sirius panic that Mr. and Mrs. Potter would hear them and realise that something was actually going on between the bestest of friends, he moaned because he didn’t care about the consequences. He cared to cum, or, at least, right now.
“If you let out as much as a sound when I take my fingers out, I swear to god, I won’t do anything. You hear me?”
Potter nodded, his eyes unfocused and his hips trembling, jerking forward.
“So, shut. The fuck. Up.” Sirius took all the three of his fingers out of his mouth, and, miracle of miracles, James Potter didn’t make a peep. He licked his lips glistening with saliva, swallowed hard and mouthed “please” silently.
That hit hard. Sirius shifted to the foot of the bed and leaned closer. Then it was his turn to start sucking, and Sirius of the noble and the most ancient house of Black enveloped the tip of the dick with his lips, desperately hoping they didn’t turn as dry as his mouth suddenly did. James didn’t utter a sound, it was Sirius who yelped when Potter’s fingers dug into his hair in the possessive gesture of a lover, not a friend.
Every time with James Potter was a war. But they called a truce at dawn.
Notes:
The noble and the most ancient house of Black is happy to present the Disappointment of a Son
