Marauders Smut

James Potter

Content : use of restraints, rough sex, slight overstimulation, aftercare, somnophilia

—

James Potter stood, allowing the water to cascade down his back while his hand rested on the wall above his head.

He couldn't remember the last time he had fucked up so bad.

Losing a Quidditch match was incredibly unlike him.

He didn't know what happened, only that every time Gryffindor scored, Slytherin scored three times as many.

Losing was one thing, but losing to Slytherin was another entirely.

Slamming his hand against the wall, he cursed himself.

A knock sounded from the other side of the bathroom door. "James, are you okay?" When he didn't reply, she spoke once more. "You haven't drowned yourself, have you?"

He sighed, flipping the option over in his head for a moment. He was seriously debating it.

Instead of drowning himself, he turned the water off and stepped out the shower. Wrapping a nearby towel around his waist, he pulled the door open, watching as she almost fell into him.

His fellow marauders had agreed to give him some space, leaving the dorm unoccupied. Clearly, she didn't get the memo.

He watched as her eyes latched onto the droplets of water that fell from his broad shoulders, across the lines of his abs, and down his v-line. Her eyebrows furrowed and he wondered if she was annoyed that the white fabric was blocking her view.

Seeming to realise he was watching her, she snapped her eyes back up to his. Her lips parted slightly, before she firmly shut them by digging her top teeth into her bottom lip.

"Are you okay?" she questioned again.

He looked at her, properly. The girl he had grown up with, been in love with since he was a kid, and wanted to fuck ever since he discovered the meaning.

"James." His name sounded like a love potion on her tongue, and he couldn't help but lean forward.

His lips met hers.

And she froze, clearly not expecting whatever he was doing. It didn't take long before she was kissing back though; her fingers grazing over his defined abs and exploring the lines that led beneath the towel.

He pushed them back, journeying over towards his bed. He groaned into her mouth - in both pleasure and warning - when she began toying with the towel that sat on his hips.

James pulled back, securing her bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. She moaned from the action, her eyes remaining closed.

They stared at each other for a moment, silently communicating their feelings.

Smirking, she tugged her shirt off, tossing it on the floor nearby. Reaching around her, he removed her bra, throwing it in the same direction as her shirt.

He wasted no time in taking her nipple in his mouth, grazing his teeth along it when she moaned loudly. Merlin, how he loved that sound.