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An Impromptu Detention	By : DictionaryWrites Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 10254 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the characters therein belong to JK Rowling; I'm playing in the sandbox, as it were, whilst claiming no ownership and making no money.

Chapter List
- 1-An Impromptu Detention
- 1
"Stop right there, Black," comes a loud voice from behind him, and Sirius lets out an exaggerated sigh, turning and looking at Evans imploringly from the shadows. He knew he shouldn't have let Peter take the map - little bastard is probably quite happy in bed right now, letting Remus read him a bedtime story, and here Sirius is, faced with a prefect of all monsters, and it's Evans to boot.
"Lily, my darling girl-"
"Ten points from Gryffindor,"
"My girl who isn't darling in the least-"
"Five points more."
"Not my girl-"
"That's more like it." Evans walks forwards, grabbing Sirius by the front of his robes and pulling him bodily out of the passage he'd just been ducking into, which closes with a grind of stone on stone. For such a petite girl, she certainly has some upper body strength, and Sirius has no doubt she'd do well as a beater on the Quidditch team. "You're getting detention this time," she says, and Sirius groans. His whole week is chock-a-block with detentions, and he truly doesn't need more.
"Why? You're out of bed too, Evans."
"I'm a prefect."
"It's just a badge."
"I'm supposed to be out here."
"I had an important meeting." Evans narrows her eyes, regarding him suspiciously, and Sirius offers her his most charming, rakish smile. Evans, to Sirius' disappointment (but not complete surprise) is not bewitched by Sirius' devilish good looks or charisma. She's incredibly strange, in that regard - even McGonagall quavers sometimes. Lily Evans' obviously skewed preferences aside, though, Sirius quite likes her: she's clever, and she knows how to banter with Sirius in a way many of the other prefects don't, and there is the tremendous benefit in that she's rather pretty to look at. "I don't suppose I could serve a detention now?"
"It's eleven o'clock at night, Black," Evans points out, as if Sirius isn't aware, and Sirius grins at her.
"My idea of a detention would be better served at this time of night," he says, and Evans rolls her lovely green eyes as if Sirius has somehow insulted her, when he has obviously given her a great compliment. How many other girls has Sirius ever offered to serve? None! That's how many!
"I'm not going to be seduced into some broom cupboard, Black, now just-"
"Needn't be in a broom cupboard," Sirius says sweetly, "We could go right here. All you'd need to do is hike up your robes, and I'll quite gladly get to my knees." To his utter surprise, Evans laughs, the sound like a peal of pretty bells, and while Sirius doesn't quite understand James' utter fascination with the girl, he does support his pursuit.
"And what are you going to do once you're on your knees, Black?" she asks, eyes twinkling with a mischief Sirius loves to see in the eyes of any Gryffindor.
"Well, I do hear Filch yearn for the days of old, now and then, when a student would clean out a cauldron with their tongue. Without a cauldron to hand, of course, I suppose I'd have to put my tongue to work somewhere else entirely." Evans is smirking, and Sirius knows he has won, that he will win. She wants him, of course she wants him - who doesn't want him in this school? Sirius' desirability is of made more potent by the fact that he never deigns to enjoy the charms of the girls at Hogwarts, but Evans will be just one, secret exception.
"Alright," she says.
"Really?" Evans leans back against the wall, slipping her wand away, crossing her arms and spreading her legs, and the look she gives him is a challenge. Oh, a girl ought know better than to challenge Sirius Black. She really, really ought.
Sirius makes his way forwards, removing his cloak and folding it into a neat, cushioned square and laying it delicately at Evans' feet. He ignores the truly ridiculous way Evans scoffs and rolls her eyes at him, and he settles himself on his knees: it is simply the case that the corridors of Hogwarts have very hard floors, and why ever should a young man like to ruin his knees on them? Even in the bodily worship of a pretty girl, there are some things a man just cannot stand for, and scuffed knees are on the very top of that list.
He reaches out, playing with the hem of Evans' robes for a moment before he throws them up in the air, dipping his head between her legs as they drop down around his head, and he hears a giggle. Giggles aren't often heard from the stoic, strong mouth of Lily Evans, but one can hardly deny that the sound is rather nice, even if they are directed as Sirius' well-considered acts of pageantry. "No underwear, Lily? I thought Muggles rather went in for that sort of thing - I was rather hoping for one of those thongs."
Oh, his mother would go ballistic at the very thought of this, at the very implication of a Black on his knees in the service of a Mudblood, and the concept thrills and delights him as he leans up on his knees. He is quite serious in his complaint, though: underwear is a quaint and charming little pastime of the Muggles, and thongs are the best of all.
"Shut up, Black," Evans says, and Sirius cannot help but smirk to himself as he settles his hands on her thighs, cupping the lower part of them as he drags his tongue exploratively over her. She's not yet wet, but when his tongue brushes over her clit, safely nestled amongst some charming red hair, he feels her clench in readiness. Sirius taps the other Gryffindor's knees, and she spreads her legs a little more, leaning back against the wall to accommodate the position; Sirius draws his tongue over her lips, finding them fairly small and neat under his attentions - the wonder of the human labia, Sirius thinks, is in its fascinating variety, and as an admirer of the vulva in all its forms, he has no complaints at all.
It's warm between Evans' legs, and Sirius draws his tongue over her clit again, pressing the flat of it to the nub before he draws his lips carefully around it and sucking. He hears Evans let out a harsh, hissing whine, and he laves his tongue down again, playing over her lips and teasing forwards. He can feel her quiver under his mouth, feel her swell, and when he dips his tongue just slightly inside her, he feels the wetness beginning to gather there.
Sirius puts himself to work, dragging his tongue again and again up and down her outer labia, flicking the muscle over the inner ones, and now and then he'll return to her clit, teasing over it, covering it with his mouth, but not quite sucking. He feels her legs grow a little stiffer, feels her get tense, and he knows that she's beginning to get frustrated, but that's precisely what he wants: with the correct amount of teasing, one enjoys the release so much more. And of course, he wants her to enjoy this just as much as he is.
Just as Evans begins, "Bla-", Sirius exercises mercy.
He thrusts his tongue inside her, holding her thighs to steady her as she lets out a squeak of sound and jolts against the wall; he shifts his tongue inside her, playing over her inner walls as she clenches wetly around him, and he breathes in, taking in the scent of her. He pulls back, teasing over her hole with his left thumb as he goes back to her clit, pursing his lips around it and beginning to suck it properly, occasionally flicking his tongue over it - it's not unlike sucking an incredibly small cock, in all honesty, and it is just as much fun.
Gasping, Evans leans back against the wall, putting her weight on the stone instead of trusting it to her own quavering legs, and through her robes she cups the back of his head, keeping it down against her - silly girl. As if he'd want to draw away now.
He hums against her clit, delighting in the way she cries out and bucks her hips up against his face, and then he returns to her entrance, playing over it and her swollen lips with his tongue: she's all but dripping now, wetness clinging to her buttocks and a little to the tops of her thighs, moisture clinging to some of her pubic hairs like morning dew on grass. Sirius has never, whilst in human form, felt the need to drop onto wet grass and rub his face against it, but there's an inkling of a want in him now.
Sirius feels her orgasm coming, and he waits until the last second before he puts his mouth on her clit again, feeling her cry out as her entrance clenches and tightens on nothing at all: he can't help but imagine her face, her lovely eyes scrunched up, her lips parted, and he commits the imagined image to memory. What a lovely thought.
He draws back, pulling himself out from under her robes, and he grins up at her as she smooths down her robes, trying to pretend her knees aren't quaking a little under the fabric.
"God, your face is wet," she complains. He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, ignoring the way she groans, horrified. What else is he meant to wipe his mouth on? Her robes?
"Well, that's not my fault, Evans." He steps down the corridor, and she watches him go.
"You're not going to use that passage?"
"And let you hear the password? No, Evans, I'm not." She laughs, shaking her head, and then she turns, walking off down the corridor and letting Sirius make his way down the corridors: he has to be careful not to get caught again. There are only so many times he can put his tongue to work in one night, after all.
- 1
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An Impromptu Detention