oblwan - Tumblr blog

oblwan · 7 months

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𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇.

summary. | His claws are shining bright in the dark as he’s lifting up your little red skirt. Unlike the others, he won’t leave you in the dirt.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, drugging (sex pollen), obsession, stalking, chasing, manipulation, possessiveness, kidnapping, mention of drug use, mild age gap, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, pussy slapping, humiliation, praise, pet names, rough sex, vaginal sex, virginity loss, corruption kink, innocence kink, dirty talk, mild manhandling, creampie kink, size kink (ransom’s cock is so big), heavy dumbification, implied, cumplay/eating, orgasm denial, overstimulation, and more. DARK FIC, 18+, MINORS DNI!

word count. | 13.3k.

pairings. | Dark!Best Friend!Ransom Drysdale x Innocent!Best Friend!Reader, Male OC x Reader (brief).

author’s note. | please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANYTHING from my fics and you don’t ask for permission, you will be blocked and reported. i’m also going to be gifting my most special baby @barnesjamcs this fic for her bday (early). my baby, i don’t have enough words to describe my love for you. thank you so fucking much for everything! i love you so much! playlist.

Your heeled boots click on the floor, and your new coat fans out behind you—but it’s not outrageous. In your hands isn’t much; your phone, your purse, and the ticket that got you into this overtly-prestigious building. It’s worse than the gallery you toured last, but the art that hangs on the walls makes up for your distaste.

The steps you take are mild, but they’re quick enough to bring you to him. When you walk, you feel elegant. In your mind, you pretend you’re one of the most important people in this damned place. On the speakers is a classical piece that you might just Shazam and bring back to the Hot 100 charts when you tell your boss to play it at the library.

But you can swear that you’ve heard this number in a movie before.

Promises and vows are things that are just blasphemous to break. You like to believe that an angel falls from heaven every time someone goes against their words. And when he asked what happens when one fulfills their oaths, you had no answer to give him. Good behaviour is rarely rewarded, and bad behaviour is always dealt with.

So, as you swore to do, you come whenever he calls.

“Did you know that you can ask your Uber driver to hit the gas? It’s simple, really, just open your mouth and drop a ‘please,’” Ransom intones from behind you, and you halt your movements. Your dreams break like hardened caramel on top of a dark brown plate. Under it is a smear of dark chocolate, and you since then have not wondered why rich people are so wolfish. Ransom is no exception.

“No, I can’t, Ransom! It’s rude, and it’s dangerous,” you whisper-shout to him, and you cast your eyes to the woman standing next to him. He’s got a type, and it’s not you, apparently. “You know what’s really rude and dangerous? You not showing up fast enough,” he counters, and he walks around you. Ransom places you under a microscope, and he examines you thoroughly.

You’re not suddenly self-conscious, but it just seems to worsen when he’s around. He picks up on it, and he knows you too well, even with a glance of his eyes. He’s the needle, and you’re the battered vinyl that’s a bit warped and scratched—but he’s spent too much money on you to just throw you out.

“How is that dangerous?” you question, and you shove your phone into the white pocket of your coat, letting it accompany your headphones and gloves. They’re fingerless because the Amazon pictures are so deceiving—and you’re so foolish. “A hurt and lonely Ransom is a dangerous Ransom,” he teases before wrapping his arms around your waist.

When Ransom’s fingers brush against the sensitive parts of your body, you wonder how those ballerinas do it with their counterparts. When they’re spun around and tossed with ease, do they get the butterflies? Or when you’re being held and guided oh so gently, do they get all shy as you do?

His pointy chin rests on your shoulder, and you know he must be uncomfortably hunched over right now. He stands at a height you can’t seem to remember, but you can recall that he’s well over six feet.

“Vanilla?” your friend questions after he places his nose on the fabric that shields you from the cold winds. You nod your head, and you hold back from naming the notes that you’ve got memorized.

Vanilla, whipped cream, caramel, chocolate, benzoin, sweetness, and musk.

“Hugh, honey?” his date calls, and she walks over to where the two of you stand. You’ve been through this before. It’s a rinse and repeat routine, one that you want to say you’re tired of, but you have to admit, you love helping Ransom out. “Princeton. From New York. Econ major,” Ransom tells you, and you realize that she’s just another girl to him.

You give her your name before she can even place her manicured nails on his chest—red, a diamond, and almond-shaped. Like any other artist, you stretch one of your colour-covered hands out to greet her. Some days it’s paint—most days, it’s pen ink, and on rare occasions, it’s the dryness of erasers.

Her name is something you’ll always remember because you’re you—these moments are unforgettable. But he’s him; he never cares to remember past the ruined night. You can’t hate him for his habits, and you won’t make him change them.

“Is this your friend?” she asks Ransom, and he shakes his head. Instead of your stomach dropping the first time he did this, you grin wildly. “This is my best friend,” he enunciates, and you nod your head. She doesn’t care enough about your friendship with Ransom to ask questions, but he gives her answers nonetheless.

“We met a while ago when she was an intern at my grandfather’s company, and we’ve been best buds since,” he hums, gazing at you dreamily. You give him the same look, except your eyes are filled with wonderment. “Well, I think we should get back to our date, Hugh,” she laughs, and she doesn’t think this thought. No, she’s telling him that he needs to leave you or else she’ll go.

You wait for the brutality to strike—for the punch to hit her across the face and leave her too bruised for simple selfies during the golden hour. And it comes, except this time, you’re the victim.

“Of course, honey,” he tells her, and he’s leaving your side before your smile can even drop. Maybe this is your karma; have you ever done a bad thing? Memories of stealing fake flowers from a store when you were younger come back. Flashes of gossiping about a friend—who made you feel worse than she should’ve—fill your eyes. No, no, no, you’re not a bad person! Ransom says that, and he’s always right.

But what the fuck?

The pet name is more bitter than it sounds. He’s not even dating this woman! This is the first time he’s even met her.

“Bunny,” Ransom coos, and you look down to the ground. You’re more hurt than you were the time he jumped from a corner, and you tripped and fell. He held you tightly afterwards, and you haven’t seen the group of trust fund babies who laughed at you ever again. “There’s this surrealism exhibit right over there, okay? Go look at some pieces,” he orders, and before you can even whine, he turns around and grabs his date’s arm.

On your feet, you spin. You don’t even know where this surrealism exhibit is, but you leave the abstractionism display either way. Did you say something that upset him? Is he playing a twisted game with you? Or is Ransom fucking Drysdale really trying to settle down now?

The thought is unbelievable, and you’re just seconds away from calling Marta and letting her know every single detail of the past few minutes.

When the serif font in a bold variant fills your view, you know you can’t come up with an excuse for Ransom to not find you. Saying that you got lost isn’t exactly the smartest thing, not when this place is designed for you to find your way. The arrows aren’t exactly dismissable, but you are.

You’ve seen all these damn paintings before, and you’ve studied them, too. Even if it was done in your spare time, you know more about “The Persistence of Memory” than Ransom’s date. You call her honey, and so does he.

It’s predictable, a bit too predictable. Nobody dabbles in this medium anymore. You’ll only ever see minimalism these days—and it’s so heartbreaking for you, personally. Artists never let their fans see inside their minds despite their envied genius.

René Magritte’s “Les Amants” stares back at you, and it sets the tone for the other five paintings in this small room. Nobody else is in here but you, and you’re okay with that. Cameras aren’t allowed, and you find that rule to be utterly useless as you hear a couple asking an elderly woman to press on the round button, not the crescent one.

“Is he your favourite?” someone from behind you asks, and you whip your body to face them. You should face the music, too, y’know. “Not quite, but this piece has a special place in my heart. What about you, sir?” you question the man who’s more dressed up than you are. His all-black outfit and shining watch must mean something, right?

“‘The tomb of the wrestlers’ is nice,” he solemnly tells you, and you nod your head. “Is surrealism your favourite?” he then follows up, and you nod your head. “Yeah, even though it’s not as loved as it should be,” you chuckle, and he copies your exact action. His is more hearty, though, and yours is meant to add humour. “I think the same. Though my colleagues believe otherwise, so that’s why this exhibit is shoved to the back,” he sadly tells you.

Ah, so his simple yet fancy outfit does mean something.

“You work here? That’s so cool. Maybe one day you’ll convince them that you’re right.” And one day, you’ll convince Ransom that just because he doesn’t like something doesn’t mean it’s dumb. Does he think you’re dumb? “I hope so…” he drifts off, staring at another piece of art, and you take it as a sign that this book has been closed and you should move on.

Suddenly, though, he gives you his name. It’s nice, though less indelible than Ransom’s date herself. And yes, as expected, your best friend will remember it for a while. You tell him yours, and he repeats it in such a way that makes you uneasy. No, no, he doesn’t put you off, but you haven’t heard your name from someone else’s lips in oh so long. “Bunny” is what your Thrombey-Drysdale-born friend refers to you as, while others just say “you” when you’re addressed.

You’re sure they don’t know your name, even though you’ve told them it numerous times.

“It’s pretty. Might come up with a terrible nickname for it, though,” Benjamin tells you, and you laugh. You do it because you can’t help it, not because you have a responsibility. “I wish I could come up with a nickname for you, but your name is already short,” you hum, and you notice that he’s stepped closer to you. When was the last time someone who isn’t Ransom or a family member has been this close to you?

“Well, I think someone like you with creativity can do something,” he whispers near your ear, and you stare at the painting to his right. The Harlequin’s Carnival, Joan Miró. Much like what the few Redditors believe, you realize that Joan Miró has reached into your mind and taken a look at it with a magnifying glass. He’s taken account of your flaws, your inner monologue, your perfections, and so much of you.

On the canvas is simply what he’s managed to observe.

“What do you mean, Benny?” you question, and there it is. Your genius, your brilliance. His name may now be one letter off from the pet name Ransom’s given you, but the moniker works nonetheless. “See? That’s it. And I mean that I can tell you’re very creative; it’s just a feeling,” he explains, and you nod your head. “Sorry, I say weird things,” Benjamin mumbles under his breath, and you quickly tut.

“No! It’s not weird. Please don’t apologize. I think it’s pretty cool how you can tell. You’re basically psychic,” you joke, and he cracks a smile. “I guess I am. Do I need to show you my crystal ball for authenticity purposes?” he joshes, and his words immediately remind you of your beloved friend. Ransom must already be gone with his date because by now, shouldn’t he be pestering you with his dealer on the phone?

You’ve never engaged in his illicit activities, but you don’t humiliate him for doing it.

“Or would taking you back to my place be too much, too soon?” Benjamin suddenly questions in a soothing baritone. Your eyebrows shoot up as far as your muscles allow them to go. The saliva in your mouth makes you choke for a split second, and you have no words for the man you only met a few seconds ago. “I… Uhm…” You’re utterly speechless, more than the first time you saw Ransom in his birthday suit.

“We should go on a date first, right? Sorry. It’s not often that I see a girl as lovely as you. Do you like coffee? I know this great place; Gracenote. Have you heard of it? Wait, no! We should go to this showcase next week. Yes! It’s expressionism, which is very popular here, but you’ll love it. I promise.”

Benjamin rambles, and his face is pinched with pink. He’s seconds away from resembling the woman’s dress in Les Amants. You stare at that painting once more, wishing you could purchase a print, but you know you can’t. What will you say to people who ask you about it? You’ll give them a sad story of suicide, marriage, and the skirts that Magritte was attached to. Did he really have to share the meaning? You believe that artists don’t owe anyone anything.

Well, except for Banksy and his “crimes.”

You can always lie because, unlike Marta, you can get away with it quite well. Sometimes, a little too well. Misery finds misery, and liars find liars. Your brilliance is shared with Ransom, but he was born with it filled and leaking from that silver spoon (the Thrombey-Drysdales can’t seem to rip it out of his mouth).

You could tell them that it’s about two people who are blindly in love but do not know the other well enough; they’ve got an idea of themselves that they are in love with. It hits close to home because you’re doing it with Ransom.

Okay, yes, this story is predictable. But it’s okay! You’ll get your happy ending either way—the main characters always do. Except for the hopelessly-in-love-best friend who always sits on the sidelines.

“When’s the, uh, the showcase? I’ll have to check my calendar,” you say to him, but your words are untruthful. You’re free for the upcoming week and a few days afterwards, and you have no plans unless Ransom decides to force you out of the room in his home that you spend most of your time in. “Thursday night,” Benjamin squeaks out, and he shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His tone carries hope.

“Yeah, I can do Thursday, Benny.”

You take your tea with a small spoonful of honey, and you’re not upset at the memory that resurfaces. Now, you can hear those ex-peers and much older cousins of yours saying something along the lines of “you’ve matured.” As much as that thought pleases you, it’s not true. You’re just focusing on a good thing that just happened to bless you that night.

The trees outside your home resemble that of the french toast sticks you’ve just made. And so does Ransom’s nose. You make a motion with your finger that he knows so damn well, and he pulls out a handkerchief that Donna gifted him a while back, sometime during Christmas. With a smirk, you watch him wipe his nostrils with the red cloth, one that you can remember first seeing a few years ago.

Walt and the rest of the family had immediately yelled at Ransom when they saw him unwrap the gift. They scolded Donna, albeit jokingly, and told her that he’d never keep the cloth. Now, two years later, he still walks around with it and mocks his family for thinking of him in such a rude manner.

That day was a blur from all the eggnog Fran had given you. Ransom thoroughly enjoyed having to throw you over his shoulders to get you home, though.

“Thanks, bunny,” he smiles, and he drops down into the loveseat that’s across from you. It’s not rare to experience kindness from Ransom. Not when you’re you. But for others, they might as well wait until hell freezes over and Satan catches frostbite. (You said that in front of Walt once, and he immediately tried to find a way to insult Ransom with it).

“No syrup? Really?” he scoffs as he breaks apart the second fluffiest stick out of the pile you have stacked up. The firstmost is left for you. “It’s too early for syrup, Ransom! And plus, there’s sugar on them!” you defend, and he chuckles. “Whatever, bunny. You’re energetic today. What’s going on?” your best friend questions, and you grow shy.

“Promise you won’t get mad, Ransom?” you coax, and the question itself worries Ransom. “Why would I get mad, bunny?” he forces out through gritted teeth, already alight with a flame that only you can put out. “I’m goin’ on a date!” you exclaim, and you place your almost-finished cup of tea on the table in front of you.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“A what now?” he quizzes, immediately standing up from his seat. If this were a soap opera, someone would be fainting right about now. “A date, Ransom! Ugh, you know! I don’t wanna have to explain it,” you sheepishly tell him, stretching your hands out as you walk near your friend. At first, he jerks away and turns to look out the window, which makes you pout.

But when Ransom sees your jutted-out lip, he caves and allows you to engulf him in a hug. You dig your now-manicured nails (covered in clear, sparkly nail polish) into the knitted holes of his sweater, and you stare him in the eyes. Though they’re squinted and a bit red, you manage to hold his gaze and notice the darkness in them. The colour of a sky before the rain is what you end up looking into, not his usual brighter colour.

“Don’t scare this one off, Ransom. Please? I’m the only one in my family without a boyfriend! I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Just give him a chance, Ransom. For me—for your bunny,” you whisper slowly, and he can smell the sugar and chamomile on your tongue. When he inhales sharply, he catches the odd smell of honey and nearly grimaces. He hates it, but he doesn’t have a problem with you using it.

Your middle name might as well be ‘exception’ since that’s what you mostly are for Ransom.

It takes everything in Ransom’s body to not lean forward and capture you in a searing kiss. It would be your first, and it’d be absolutely divine. The kind that romance freaks fawn over yet the type that the critics hate on. He’d eat you up, teeth and all. Your dearest friend would never hurt you, but he’d love to see your lips with a red line that he caused.

Is your blood as sweet as you are? It’s fantastical to wonder this, but he knows your saccharine being is something that none of those country club daughters can compare to. …Is that where he met that woman? He can’t recall the small details, only remembering how upset you looked when one of the older men leered at you. At the golf course the next day, Ransom swung his club at something that didn’t fly among the hole-filled grassy hills.

His white collared polo shirt still has blue blood stained on it.

“Fine, bunny. You know I’m just looking out for you, right? There are so many bad guys out there who don’t deserve you,” Ransom lowly speaks after letting out a deep sigh. You nod your head, bringing your fingers up to the neckline of his sweater. It’s a grey colour, one that you match with your shirt. He wears it on purpose because you’ve stolen it from him before. He can swear that your lotion’s scent is still laced in the fibres.

“I know, Ransom. But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” you reassure him, and he nearly scoffs.

You’re not a big girl; you’re his little bunny! Who do you think you are saying these kinds of things? You can’t do what he’s been doing for you for the past few years of your relationship. Do you know how many people he’s had to hurt for you? How about how much he loves you? Hm? Do you know that he loves you more than anyone ever will?

“...And Benny is so sweet, I think you’ll like him!” you tell Ransom, interrupting his brutal train of thought. It moves at hundreds of miles per hour, faster than anything you can fathom. You’ve given that guy a nickname? The rich man holds back a vulgar word, knowing you don’t appreciate it when he curses. “Really?” he questions in utter disbelief, and you quickly nod your head.

“Maybe one day you guys can meet! Oh, we can go on a double date!” you propose, sticking your index finger up in affirmation of your seemingly brilliant idea. “Bunny, what are you talking about?” Ransom questions with a smile on his face, knowing that it’ll soothe the blow he’s about to give you. “Me, Benny, that girl you were with last week, and you!” you explain brightly.

Ransom chuckles, and it’s just like those times he’d sit by his Great Nana and laugh at his fighting family. Like for her, he’s got a soft spot with your name etched on it. His neat handwriting has been perfected for the sake of seeing his last name attached to yours. Ransom wishes for you to be a Drysdale, not being able to stand the mere idea of having to be near the Thrombey’s.

“Bunny, I’m not with that lady. It was just a date that didn’t end well,” Ransom tells you, and your mouth forms an ‘o’ in understanding. “Oh, ’M sorry about that Ransom!” you express, and he presses a kiss on your forehead. He keeps his pink lips on your warm skin, not wanting to pull away and desiring to do more than just this. “S’okay, bunny. I can still accompany you,” he whispers against your face.

You laugh while shaking your head, and as sweet as that sound usually is, it displeases your best friend.

Purple glows are what light up the room—if that’s what you can call it. You can barely make out faces and bodies unless they’re wearing some sort of diamonds on them. Most people here are, except for you. You once had your ears pierced, but your job rendered those pieces of jewellery useless. When you quit, you never had the time to re-puncture your lobes.

Ransom has pestered you about it for a while now, and you smile at the memory of him saying he’s willing to go to Claire’s to get the job done. Ransom fucking Drysdale in Claire’s, what a sight that would be.

“I know a few people here, but I’m not leaving you, okay? I can tell you’re a bit uneasy,” Benjamin suddenly states, turning around. His hand is clasped with yours, and you nearly bump into his chest at his abrupt halt. You nod your head before squeaking out a meek thanks, and he smiles down at you. Sweet, sweet Benny.

“Let’s get a drink!” he shouts when the music starts to grow far too loud for your taste. You can feel each beat in your body, shaking your bones slightly. “Okay, but nothing too strong, please,” you request, wanting to fully remember this night. Benjamin laughs and nods his head, and he leads you to the bar.

With each step you take, you’re forced to say, “excuse me.” Everyone cuts you a nasty glare, but you just look down and ignore them as best you can. It’s an environment you could never get used to, but a place that Ransom could quite possibly live and breathe in. As long as he has a lifetime supply of Biscoff cookies. Oh, and you by his side.

Benjamin exchanges a few words with the bartender, who pours different coloured liquids into glasses. When your date stops talking, the moustached-man nods his head and turns around to prepare whatever drinks Benjamin has asked him for. You’re a bit nervous, and you cope with it by tapping your foot against the shiny floors. The black marble tiles look as though they’ve been laced with gold, its streaks resembling veins.

“Hey, do you mind sitting at that table? If it’s gone, we might be standing for the entire night,” Benjamin chuckles, but you know he’s not kidding. In the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Your hand is merely a phantom for your date, and you now sit at the round black table while you patiently wait for Benjamin.

You look around the filled-up room for the art he’s promised, and the only piece you can find is a Van Gogh collage on a woman’s dress. The sight makes you smile, and you realize that you haven’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Your red dress is simple, unlike the clothing that other people wear. It ends slightly above your knees, has cap sleeves, and has a high neckline that almost resembles a turtleneck.

Like most of your outfits, it pairs with one of Ransom’s sweaters. His mother once called you ‘thing 2,’ and Ransom was dubbed ‘thing 1’. For Halloween, he got custom onesies, and you drove to her firm to embarrass him.

“Here you go, doll!” Benjamin exclaims, and he snaps you out of your reverie. The pet name is foreign; you’ve only ever known being called “bunny.” You’re not sure how to feel about it, but it’s odd. On queue, the song changes to a more upbeat tone that might just seem out of place in one of Hollywood’s latest thriller films.

Your drink is fruity and a bright, opaque orange colour. You can dare and say he’s bought you overpriced orange juice, but when you take a smell of it, you can taste the bubbly champagne. “A mimosa?” you question with a smile on your face, shocked that a place like this would even serve one of your guilty pleasures. Benjamin nods his head, and you take note of the bottle of beer that sits in front of him.

Pabst Blue Ribbon—a drink that might receive a punch or two from Ransom if it were a real person.

Or, as he likes to put it, it’s Walt in liquid form. Absolutely disgusting and annoying and just a whole bunch of other rude (yet true) words that you cannot recall.

“Everything else is just… awful. Unless you had something in mind! I’m sorry, I’ll get you something else,” he nervously rambles, and you giggle.

“Benny, it’s perfect. I love mimosas. Thank you for this,” you say to him, reaching over to grab his hand. He smiles at you charmingly, and he rubs his thumb over your skin. You look up at him in awe, and you maintain eye contact. It’s an action you struggle with when it comes to most people. But with Benjamin and Ransom, it is simply so divine. You’ve read a novel like this before—wait, no, it was a movie.

It was something fictional, that’s for sure.

The two lovers of the media piece—the main characters—shared this exact moment. They leaned in for their kiss, just like what you’re now doing with Benjamin. Your eyes flutter shut, and a few seconds after, so do his. Your heads are tilted to the side, and you’re both careful to not leave this place with a bloody nose or swollen facial features.

It’s so damn perfect because you can swear the music has slowed down, and like the author or narrator always describes, it feels like you and your date are the only people in the room.

But then comes the rude awakening. Someone brushes past your table roughly, and they murmur out a pathetic apology. Your purse falls to the ground, and Benjamin pulls away from your face. “Shit,” he curses, trying to grab for your bag. But it’s too far for him to reach, so you simply do it yourself.

You hang onto the back of your chair as you comfortably shift your body, hooking the handle with one of your fingers and slowly pulling it back to you. You whip back to your original position, and you try to put yourself back together.

“Sorry about that,” Benjamin sheepishly expresses, scratching the back of his neck. His face is scribbled with awkwardness, and you’re almost the same. “S’fine,” you mumble out, placing your bag in your lap to avoid another mishap. “You should try your drink! Let me know what you think. If it’s good, y’know—that’s what I meant,” he stumbles out, and before he can say anything else, you’re taking a long sip from your glass.

It’s just like a prom’s fruit punch on your tongue, except with richer bubbles and a sort of complexity to it. You’re not sure how to feel about it at first, but when you continue to sip on it, you realize that you love it. Not to the point where you’ll order another, though. “So…?” Benjamin questions, bringing the brown bottle to his lips. Almost begrudgingly pulling the straw out of your mouth, you smile.

“It’s really good, Benny. Thank you so much,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear, feeling a pair of eyes on you. It must be from a jealous somebody, envying you for being on a date with such a perfect man. Who wouldn’t? Benjamin is flawless. “Heh, I’m glad,” he shyly admits, and you both continue to sip on your beverages until someone decides to say something.

You stir your drink with your black straw despite it already being mixed well. It’s a nervous tick, one that you use to make you look busy to avoid sitting in a painful silence. Ransom knows this so well—he knows every bit about you.

He even knows just how trusting and naive you can be. It’s sickeningly sweet to him, an aspect of you that he wants to say should go untouched by he can’t. You’re begging to be ruined by him, whether you realize that or not. Soft lips dragged between your teeth, puppy dog eyes reserved just for Ransom, and your sweet voice just humming delightfully in his ear. He wants to keep you all to himself, far away from the worst parts of life.

Though, he won’t keep you safe from himself. He’ll hunt you down and ruin you, knowing that you'll never be able to stop him.

In the darkness of the club, he stands solemnly. Women have come up to him and asked for all kinds of sexual favours and returns, but he’s rejected them all brutally. It’s something he’s been doing for a while now, ever since he's met you. The thought of being with someone who isn’t his bunny makes him sick with both disgust and remorse.

But when someone who had no interest in sleeping with him comes up to him, he can’t resist them. Especially when they've got an offer that’s just oh so enticing.

The strange man waves a small vial of clear liquid in front of Ransom’s face, negotiating a low price of $65, mere pocket change for the Drysdale. He’s never thrown cash and something so quick in his life. He gets anything he wants and even gets things he doesn’t ask for. He wasn’t just born into a wealthy family; he was born into the universe’s luck.

The near-kiss is something he can’t stand to think about, but he has to thank it. You’re easily distracted—pulled away by anyone who demands even the slightest bit of your attention. When Benjamin has you captured with his eyes like a net, Ransom–the predator—swoops in. He first lays down the interruption, pushing someone gently so that their flying hands hit your purse.

Ransom sinks his claws into his prey when you and your lousy date both look away, letting him perform his virtuous act so that the audience can curse him for being a fool. …No, they’re not throwing tomatoes… They’re cheering and clapping and even shedding a stupid tear or two. It’s the part they’ve been waiting for, the one where the best friend finally gets the girl.

He sits in his car, the one you love so dearly. Whenever he offers to pick you up from wherever you are, you always ask if he’s going to take the Beemer. Sometimes, he lies and leaves it for a surprise. Other times, however, he makes you grovel and beg him even though the key is already in the ignition.

It’s the perfect angle because he’s just so damn smart. Ransom’s years at Columbia have certainly paid off, despite what his parents may believe. He’s able to look at you through the large window that you and your date sit next to, despite the few lingering and wild bodies that frame the scene. Your best friend fidgets with his ring, occasionally pulling it off and putting it back on.

Underneath Ransom’s sweater is his well-built abdomen, and beneath all that muscle and seemingly perfect skin is his stomach. It doesn’t exactly hurt, but he isn’t really sitting still right now. You once ran your fingers very lightly along the back of his neck, and he nearly fell with how high he jumped. You questioned, what’s wrong, Ransom? And it was then when he told you that you’ve managed to find his sole ticklish spot.

On the occasion when he’s quite bothersome, you run your fingers along that area in a similar manner. Right now, it feels as though your hands are in his body and doing the exact same thing over and over again. You’ve encaptured him everywhere—body, mind, and soul.

Almost, just almost, in contrast, you’re writhing in uncomfortableness too. A cramp claims you and squeezes tightly at your tummy, one that is different from the many kinds you’ve felt. You slouch down just a bit in your chair, but not enough for your date to think rudely about you. When you clasp your hands together, you realize that they’re hot and sweaty. And no matter how many times you rub them on your dress, the dampness never leaves.

You’ve heard of this kind of thing before. From your mother, who was informed by your aunt, who your cousin had confided in the week after the Fourth of July. Nothing bad really happened, excluding the sick feeling she had for a few days and the neverending exhaustion. She never told you anything beyond that, but you know she called a friend, one that she trusts very dearly, and begged for their help.

And it’s what you decide to do.

“S’cuse me,” you mumble, grabbing your bag and abruptly standing up. As Benjamin—ostensibly charming Benny—stares at you with worry, you warily look at your drink. There’s a drop of juice left at the button, and you can feel dizziness consuming you almost entirely.

When you push your way through rich art majors and others alike, you still keep your manners. Such a sweet little thing you are. You try your best to find an exit, but it’s as if you’re trapped in—as if this is some elaborate plan. Before you can even go into a panicked frenzy, your phone lights up.

It’s a stupid notification that you’d usually get upset over, but you’re now thanking it for being a reminder. You make quick work in calling your dearest friend, the one you should’ve listened to earlier today.

He picks up on the third ring, even though he could answer at any time, and you’d still be oblivious to what he’s done. You’re a smart one, but you can be so fucking dumb sometimes. No, most times.

“Hey, bunny! How’s the date?” Ransom cheers, even though he doesn’t give a fuck about your stupid date. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He says the same thing about anything he doesn’t like, which is almost everything. “R- Ransom? I need your help, p- please,” you break down into sobs that make his heart clench.

“What’s wrong, bunny? What happened?” he questions, and he purposely starts up his car as loud as he can. The engine is loud, but he knows it’ll bring you comfort. “I- I think he put somethin’ in my drink. I feel so weird, Ransom. …Am I gonna die?” you whimper to him, and he soothingly shushes you.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, okay?. I’m on my way,” Ransom says, and he’s already turned his Beemer off. “T- Thank you, thank you so much, Ransom,” you tell him, and he smiles even though you can’t see him. He can see you, though. “I should’ve listened to you. “M so sorry,” you sniffle, and you suddenly feel a wave of euphoria crashing in your body.

The gasp you let out is so lewd, and it goes straight to Ransom’s cock. He’s already hard because you just have that effect on him, even though you don’t realize that. “What happened, bunny? C’mon, talk to me. You’re making me worried,” he urges, desperate to hear you say something scandalous. Oh, Ransom, my pussy is so wet… And it’s so sensitive.

But you, so pure and untried, have no idea what’s happening.

“S’weird, Ransom. Please hurry,” you plead, leaning against a wall. Your hips remain jutted out, and so does your bottom lip. Heat fills your body, and you’re covered in a thin yet slowly building sheen of sweat. It’s only February, and you can remember the windshield warning in the weather app. Why are you so hot right now?

The back of your hand wipes at your forehead, dabbing it lightly and checking to see if you’ve suddenly developed a fever. You don’t exactly feel ill… You just feel odd. It’s like a feeling you find yourself having at least once or twice a week (that you chalk up to being nothing despite your soaking panties), but it’s coming in tenfold. Your breaths are laboured, and your chest rises and falls as if you’ve just run a marathon.

“Bunny? Oh my God, c’mere,” Ransom’s voice softly says, breaking your scared and confused daze. You throw your body at him immediately, wrapping your arms around him as if you haven’t seen your friend in years. “Oh, Ransom,” you sob, and his hands move to your waist. His touch is like electricity, and you nearly squeal when you feel his palms against your body.

Right near Ransom’s ear, you let out a shaky sigh. The caress he gives you goes straight to your core, and you can feel your button throbbing. “Let’s go, okay? Just hold onto me,” he ushers before gently dragging you out of the club. In contrast to your friend’s steps, yours are short and wobbly. You have barely any balance in your heels. One hand of his goes to your waist so that he can keep you steady.

It’s not like you’re dizzy anymore. No, ever since Ransom arrived and pressed himself close to you, you’ve felt a bit better. Except the sopping wetness in your core hasn’t ceased, and you don’t know what to do. But you can trust Ransom! He’s your best friend; he’d never judge you. He loves you so dearly, and that’s why he’s helping you out. You just need to be honest with the one man who’s only ever been kind to you.

When he opens up the car door, you squeeze his shoulders. He’s so strong and so big. You’re sure he can hurt anyone, but he’d never hurt you. “R- Ransom,” you mumble as he buckles your seatbelt for you. He makes sure it’s not too tight yet not too loose, and he looks down at you with raised eyebrows. It’s your queue to speak, but you find yourself speechless.

Your eyes rake his flawless face. Each part of him has been perfected by the angels themselves. No wonder he indulges in so many naughty things! You can remember the day you caught him with another woman in bed, and you never bothered asking for her name. He called her baby, and he told her to fuck off as soon as you shut the door with a slam. You hate slamming doors.

Some whining about sucking something for him so that he can finish off another thing was followed up, but you were too embarrassed to stick around and listen.

“Talk to me, bunny,” he urges, waiting for you to cry out in fear. Your gaze falls to his plump lips. They remind you of the petals of some flowers. Maybe roses. Linda doesn’t like roses, so she tells the gardener to never consider planting them. Linda also doesn’t like her only son, but you do.

Wait, you do? You do! Why wouldn’t you? He’s Ransom fucking Drysdale, and he’s only kind to you.

“Wanna…” you trail off before placing your hands on each of his thighs. He’s so well-built, so well-sculptured. “What’s wrong?” he questions once more, leaning further down to you. You keep your eyes trained on his lips, and they’re so kissable. You don’t even know how to lock yours with his, but the idea is so damn nice. “Kiss me?” you request, and you wait for him to slam the door in your face.

It doesn’t happen. No, instead, he swears, and the lewd word should make you slap him on the arm (playfully), but it doesn’t. It gives you hope. “We gotta get you home, bunny,” Ransom whispers, and before he can close the door, you pout at him. “But I want a kiss! Please? Like the ones you give all those girls,” you reason, and you squeeze his thighs.

“When we go home, okay? I’ll give you all the kisses at home, bunny,” he promises, and he smiles when you pull away from him and clap your hands in rejoice.

The drive is so long it almost hurts. In the darkness and down the streets, you only see the lights that are blurred from the speed. It’s not high, but it’s teetering towards the limit. But there’s no one else on the roads, and Ransom likes to live on the edge.

The entire way, you have your legs parted. You’ve begged him to roll the window down, but he won’t allow it. He says something about it being too dangerous and knowing that you’ll want to do something rebellious. Usually, you just stick your out of the open glass until you’re tired.

“You need to listen to me, bunny. When I tell you something isn’t right, it isn’t right,” Ransom tells you, and you want to roll your eyes. “Are you listening to me?” he questions, and he sounds just like his grandfather. You hum as you look out the window and try to ignore your aching body’s cries for some time of help. “Bunny?” Ransom calls once more, and you hum again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he growls suddenly, grabbing your face with his hand. The coolness of his ring is pleasant, but his skin against yours is so much better. Your friend holds your chin, and the car comes to a halt. In a pathetic attempt, you try to look out the windshield to know where he’s taken you. But you can see the familiar trees and the extremely large house in your peripheral view.

“You need to listen to me, bunny. You don’t know the things I know,” he warns, and you dumbly nod your head. Your blinks are slow, and there’s just something about Ransom’s demanding tone that just makes you feel so tender in your core. If your lips weren’t squished right now, you’d be biting them until they ache. “Okay, Ransom,” you squeak out when he raises his eyebrow.

“Good girl,” he whispers delightfully, and you let out a whine. “Ransom—feels so tingly!” you whimper out once he pulls his hand away from your face. His eyebrows furrow, and you squeeze your thighs together, sighing when you feel a moment of mitigation.

“What feels tingly, bunny?” Ransom inquires, and he involuntarily places his hand on your upper thigh.

“R- Right there!” you squeak out, both nervous and on edge for entirely different reasons. “Oh… Poor bunny. I think I know what that fucker did. There’s this popular drug—it’s pretty new, I think. Anyways, it makes you feel some things, and it makes you really sensitive. That’s what’s happening to you, right?” Ransom questions as he moves his palm up and down your leg.

It’s so hard to think straight with him so close to you and something enchanting in your system. You wish you could say it’s not very pleasant, but it’s absolutely divine.

Everything Ransom says goes unlistened, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “I’ll take you inside, bunny,” he eventually says, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind him. The few seconds without him are painful, and you find yourself needing him near you so badly.

Ransom opens your door, and he scoops you up in his arms with ease. The action is so simple and mundane, yet it makes you nuzzle your face against his grey sweater.

“Shit, I can smell that sweet little pussy,” Ransom grumbles, and you look up at him. “Hm?” you hum, and he simply ignores you. His house is a home for you as you’ve spent most days in a year here. Despite your neverending whines, he still hasn’t put any curtains up. It’s one of his few flaws—that’s what you tell yourself. Ransom has almost no imperfections, and he could do no wrong.

“Just stay here, okay?” he orders as he lays you onto his off-white couch. When he pulls his hands away from your body, you immediately try to stand up. “No, no, no, bunny. Stay put,” Ransom demands, and you shake your head. “Don’t leave me, please,” you beg, holding onto Ransom’s sleeve. He sighs before placing his hands on his hips.

He stands just like a worried father, and usually, you’d tease him over it. “I won’t leave, bunny. But I need to get you some help. I’m gonna go call Marta. I don’t know if you’re safe or not.” Ransom’s words are heavy and more serious than he’s ever been. Yet, you still keep pulling him towards you. “Hey, I’ll give you those kisses you wanted,” he proposes, and even though he drives a hard bargain, you just won’t let him go.

You want to get some help, yes, but Ransom is all you need right now. In your eyes, he’s the remedy that’ll fix your issue.

“But Ransom! I need you with me,” you reason, plopping onto the couch and yanking at him as hard as you can. He, all muscle and strength, does not move. “Why, bunny? I’m right here! I’m gonna make it all better. I just need to call Marta,” Ransom tells you as he goes to peel your hands off of him. His index and middle finger expertly remove your weak grip. God, you’ve seen those digits be directed at so many people so many times.

He moves further from you with his arms leaving you as well. You’re worried that if you don’t feel the even featherlight touch of his breath, you might go insane. You believe that to wake up tomorrow morning without regret in your mind, you need Ransom. Swallowing thickly, you try your best to find words and articulated sentences in your blurry mind.

All that comes up, though, is the urge to shed your clothes as if they’re some sort of obnoxious second-skin.

You shoot up and rush after Ransom, calling out his name as you watch him pick up the landline. It’s got a coiled wire and looks like something from an Old Hollywood movie. Ransom had bought it when you expressed your love for those kinds of phones, and he lets you play with it until the clicking pisses him off.

“You’re gonna be okay, bunny. I promise. Just gonna get you some help,” Ransom grunts out, dialling the friendly nurse’s number. You’re stubborn on the occasion, but it’s never been this bad. Is it the gracious vial that’s blessing him right now? Ransom’s karma never catches him because he believes he’s never done a bad thing in his life. Sometimes, he just has to do what he needs to do.

“No, Ransom! I need you!” you suddenly screech out, balling up your sweaty hands by your side.

With the press of a button, Ransom deletes the call he was about to make.

“I- I feel all weird and tingly and sweaty, and whenever you touch me, it gets better, Ransom! Can’t you just take care of me? Please, Ransom, please help me,” you continue, and Ransom fights back the utmost tempting smirk. He hangs up the phone with a click, and he begins to move closer to you. Your friend resembles an animal—one that’s finally managed to have his prey near him. It’s just a few steps away from him.

Despite the almost horridness of the way he moves, you have a smile on your face. “Oh, bunny. It tingles down in your little pussy so much, doesn’t it? Yeah, I can fix that! I know you don’t have any idea what to do. You’re just really scared. It’s probably whatever your date gave you. Maybe it also makes things worse, y’know? …Did you kiss him, bunny?”

You nod along with his words, grasping at them with shaky hands but not catching everything. When his final question hits you, you shake your head. Ransom smiles, satisfied with your answer in so many similar ways. “Good girl. I’m the only one who should be touching you. See what happens when you let other guys near you? They hurt you. I’d never hurt you like they do.” he hums.

Ransom looks down at your hands, and he notices they’re shaking.

“Aw, bunny. Are you scared? Is Daddy being scary? I’m sorry. I was just trying my best to help!”

You teeter between confirming and denying his suspicions, and he frowns. It’s not faux at all—it’s completely genuine.

He must really be worried for you…

“I’ll help you out, bunny. Don’t worry! But I Googled something, and it’s kind of mandatory with your… situation,” he solemnly informs you, grabbing your shoulders. You quickly melt in his touch and try to lean into him, and he clicks his tongue in a disapproving manner. “After, bunny—don’t be so greedy. I know it won’t make any sense, but you have to do it, okay?” Ransom tells you, and you’re nodding before he can even finish speaking.

Maybe it’s because he’s so greedy, or perhaps it’s because he likes to push his luck. Ransom lives on the edge like that—his foot on the gas with hundreds of cars coming at him from different directions. It’s like a game to him—he loves fooling around. And he can’t help but do the same with you.

“Just… Run around the place, okay? Sounds so fucking stupid, but it’ll help you, bunny,” he sighs while he explains, and you’re all ready to dart as far as your feet will take you. Like he said, it’ll help you—he’ll help you. Just listen to his every word. “I- I’ll do it, Ransom! I’ll do anything for you,” you promise to your friend, and he dims the lights.

The ache behind your eyes suddenly disappears and turns into a satisfying dullness. You’ve been so caught up with your desperateness that you haven’t even noticed the other parts of your body that have been crying out for different reasons. Your pussy weeps even more than them, though, and it’s impossible to ignore. “I’m gonna catch you, okay?” Ransom tells you, and you nod your head.

Even though you’re ditzy, you still make the smart decision of dashing before he urges you once more.

You hop up the two stairs that separate the kitchen from the living room. The cold tile against your feet makes you sigh in relief, but you don’t stop to relish it. You move around the island with the sleek sink in the center. Ransom is hot on your heels, proving to you that his occasional jogs and overly-expensive treadmill haven’t gone to waste.

“Gotta move faster, bunny. Imagine if that bad man had come after you? Hm? That stupid Brandon,” Ransom questions, and he’s glad that you don’t correct him. You’ve finally put your best friend first—something you should’ve done so long ago. He doesn’t hold it against you, but it does hurt his feelings just a tad bit. How could you harm your best friend like that?

You try your hardest to figure out some sort of plan, but it’s as if Ransom lives in your mind. When you move to your left, he’s already done the same. And when you move to the right, he’s there before you. You make the motion to move to the left suddenly, but when he moves in that direction, you run in the opposite. Ransom’s fingers barely touch you as you move back into the living room.

“Clever girl,” the slightly older man praises, and it goes straight to your core. You’re in a similar situation once again, except the thing that keeps you and Ransom apart is a couch. He could easily reach over and grab you, but he loves to play with his food. He’s been scolded for it too many times, but his behaviour never changes.

You try to repeat the same method, not once shy from it. As you try to execute your plan, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist. “Just not clever enough,” Ransom whispers against your ear, his body pressed against yours. You let out a giggle that ends in a lewd gasp, feeling something hard on your ass. “I tried my best…” you whisper, turning around in his hold. But Ransom lifts you up with ease, and he carries you someplace.

Gently, you’re placed onto the carpeted ground next to his glass coffee table. It’s been pushed to the side, and you realize that Ransom has done it for you. He does so much for you… Your friend steps away from your writhing body for a few seconds, and the change of sight makes you smile. On his wall and above his fireplace is Les Amants—except with a twist.

The two lovers are quite different from their original forms. The woman resembles you, whereas the man looks like Ransom. Your faces are uncovered, and Ransom is pressing a passionate kiss to your cheek.

The painting makes you giggle, and Ransom smiles at your reaction. He places a pillow underneath your body before blocking your view again. “I knew you’d like it, bunny. Daddy does all that for you because he loves you,” Ransom whispers, and you simply nod your head. “Love you too, Ransom,” you mumble before fisting at his grey sweater.

“Of course you do,” he exhales, parting your legs and pushing them upwards. Once your knees touch your torso, Ransom closes your legs. His left hand holds your limbs at your knees, and his right hand travels to your soaked panties. “But you’ll never love me as much as I love you, bunny—no one will,” he tells you as he grabs at the ruined fabric.

It’s sticky with your arousal, and as he pulls at the fabric to rip it, he watches as a few strings of slick stretch from your cunt. You’re leaking with creaminess, dripping all the way down to your ass.

“You’re soaked, bunny… And you smell so fucking good,” Ransom groans, basking in your tangy yet sweet scent. It’s so addictive, and he just wants to eat you up. The urge to take your swollen little nub of nerves and suck in it until you see stars is quite strong. But he decides to hold off for now because his hard cock is straining against his pants, and it almost hurts.

“‘S that bad, Ransom?” you nervously ask, trying to look at him from your position. He abruptly hovers above you, smiling in reassurance and realization. “Not at all, bunny! It’s completely normal…” Ransom nervously trails off, and you pick up on his unease. “What’s wrong?’ you question, scared out of your mind.

“It’s just… You’re more wet than usual, bunny. Nothing I can’t fix, but it’ll probably take all night—maybe until tomorrow morning.”

“‘M not worried, Ransom. I know you can help me,” you tell him, reassuring both yourself and your best friend.

He stares down at you, his face suddenly all serious. Ransom’s lips are parted, and his index finger trails along your inner thigh until he’s touching your aching flesh. He watches as you bite your lip from the feeling, and he continues to move his finger through your wet folds. Bliss passes through your body at his touch, and it increases once he presses down on your clit.

Your back arches and you’re letting out breathy moans. “Do you like that, bunny? Daddy’s making you feel all better now,” Ransom hums before bringing his digit down to your drooling hole. You’re clenching around nothing but air, and the sight of your tiny hole makes Ransom groan. A rush of blood flows down to his cock as he thinks about how tight your pussy will feel around his cock.

His large cock and your small pussy prove that you were made for him and only him.

Pathetically, you nod your head at a rapid pace. Ransom chuckles, and he slowly breaches your pussy with his finger. His digit is coated in your copious amount of arousal, and it gushes out even more once he’s one-knuckle deep inside of you. “R- Ransom,” you stutter, but he quickly shushes you. The feeling of his thick finger inside of you is so foreign, but you get used to it once a few seconds pass.

“No, no. You gotta call me Daddy, bunny. Otherwise, I won’t help you,” Ransom warns, and you mumble out an apology.

“Daddy,” you whisper, and he smiles in delight. “Good girl. You’re my good girl, right, bunny? My good little girl,” Ransom hums, and he pulls his finger out of your pussy. A small ring of whiteness surrounds his finger. Ransom’s mouth waters at the sight, but he fights off his urges again. That drenched digit returns to your clit with the motive to torture you.

He slowly rubs your pearl in tight circles, and he watches as your pussy contracts from the pleasure. “O- Oh, feels so good,” you slur, bucking your hips up on your body’s own accord. As you try to chase after something, Ransom pulls his hand away for a brief second. Before you can even beg him to continue to work whatever magic he’s got at his fingertips, stinging in the most delicious way ever.

There’s a split second of friction on your clit, and neither you nor Ransom can tell if you’re moaning from the pain or the pleasure. The line between the two has blurred.

Your legs jerk to close, but Ransom doesn’t let that happen. He keeps them parted as he strikes you once more, revelling in the way you yelp the title he now wears. “Daddy!” you cry out, and your tone is a mix of need and hurt. Maybe even fear, and that makes Ransom blush wildly. Your pussy is sopping wet, and it hurts to have him not touch you.

“P- Please, feels so good,” you babble like a baby, and Ransom chuckles. “You like that, bunny? Do you like it when Daddy slaps your little pussy? You’re so desperate for it; you’re just taking anything I’m giving you.’ He shakes his head as he speaks, and he ends his sentences with light smacks to your clit. Your jaw is slacked, and every time his fingers make contact with your swollen cunt, you try to grind against his touch.

“Daddy…” you whine, and you can feel creaminess leaking down to your puckered hole. Your pussy aches for things you can’t do, but Ransom can. A bitter yet sweet scent wafts in the air—a mixture of what’s running down your intimate areas and the sweat on your skin. It’s addicting and very familiar. The only difference is that it’s so much more potent than the usual times it’s on the tip of your nose.

“Say it; tell Daddy what you like,” Ransom demands, and he pulls his hand away from your pussy. His slick-stained fingers are mesmerizing, and he works them against his leather belt. Through some difficulty, he

manages to push his boxers and pants down to his knees, and he leans over you once again. You’re wordless, as expected.

“I… I, uhm, I like it when you hurt me, Daddy—especially down there,” you mumble out, and you can’t fight the smile on your face when Ransom groans loudly.

“Fuck, bunny. Such a good girl,” he praises, and his hand returns to your pussy. He taps your creamy cunt with the tip of his middle finger, and your choked gasp turns into a loud moan when he pushes into you. It happens with ease, and the same small amount of simplicity is what he uses to find that sweet spot of yours. It’s spongy and makes you see stars when he curls his mildly chubby yet incredibly long finger.

“Oh my…” you breathe out, and Ransom’s other hand spreads your legs. He’s seen you in this position before—except the circumstances were different. You were watching him try on suits, and you laid down on his sofa in the oddest way ever. That’s you, though. You put comfort over manners, and you don’t give a damn unless you’re in public. Through your parted knees, you watched Ransom undress.

Your tight pussy clamps down on your saviour’s digit, and you feel your mildly coherent thoughts fall away. Nothingness fills your mind—Ransom knows this. “Aw, bunny. Are you already all stupid? I mean, you certainly aren’t the brightest. But I’ve only got a finger in this tiny pussy, and look at yourself—you’re a fucking goner,” he chuckles, and you helplessly whimper from his words.

“Just my little airhead, hm?”

Another digit is pushed into your sloppy pussy, but this time, it’s a bit of a struggle. Ransom scissors his ring and middle fingers inside your cunt, stretching you open as best as he can. Is it wrong of him to want it to hurt? You’re so damn pretty when you’re in pain and all teary-eyed for him. “Daddy,” you hiss as he opens your hole up for his cock a little more.

The two tips meet at your sweet spot, and before you know it, Ransom is slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. A moan rips through you as your legs jolt with pleasure. Ransom’s hand is covered in your cream, but he doesn’t mind it at all. “Look at you, bunny. You’re soaking my fingers, and you can barely take them. Daddy’s gonna have to force his cock in there,” he says, watching as his skin glistens.

Mindlessly, you nod. Ransom is aware that you have no damn idea of what he’s talking about, and that just turns him on even more. He starts to pick up the pace, and his palm rubs against your clit. Your pathetic noises only grow louder, and they egg Ransom on. ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you prattle as your eyes roll back into your head.

“Oh, are you gonna come already, bunny? Are you gonna come with Daddy’s finger in your little pussy—in my little pussy?” Ransom questions and you just affirm his words with your pants.

A searing pressure cuts through your abdomen, and you feel so damn full with Ransom’s fingers inside of you. A sort of light sensation grabs your body—one that you’ve never felt before. The wet sounds of your pussy go straight to Ransom’s cock, and he just loves the way you’re leaking.

“Think that asshole could make you feel so good, bunny? Fuck no. Only Daddy gets to make you feel good,” he grumbles, and he starts to slow his fingers down once he recognizes the rapid rise and fall of your chest. He laughs as you begin to whine and call his title, but he ignores your pleas to not stop.

Ransom roughly pulls his fingers out of your pussy with a sounding pop, and the amount of your breathy yet garbled words is growing. He wipes his digits on your thigh, and he squeezes the sensitive inner flesh of it. Your cunt throbs even more, and Ransom watches as it rapidly clenches around nothing. Your legs shift as you writhe, but he keeps them parted.

“D- Daddy, p- please. It felt so good, it made the bad feeling go away!” you explain to him, and Ransom can swear that your voice is on the edge of breaking. “Oh, I know, bunny—but Daddy has a better way to fix it. Just listen to me, okay? Daddy knows best.” His words are reassuring, and you thank him like the good girl you are.

“Ran- Ransom, need you, please. Want somethin’,” you tell him, still trying to recover from the intense ticklish feeling between your legs. In a flash, he’s above you for the nth time. One of his strong hands is next to your head, and it holds him up, whereas the other holds your legs in their rightful position. Open for him and him only.

“It’s ‘Daddy,’ bunny. Tell Daddy what you need,” he demands, and you tilt your heads upwards. “Kiss, please,” you pant, and he smiles gently. Before you know it, his lips are locked with yours. This kiss is fervent and passionate, and it hurts. Ransom’s sharp pearly whites dig into your bottom lip, making you cry out in pain. He swallows your noise, though, and he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

Ransom was your first kiss, and he’s trained you oh so well for moments exactly like this. With him and only him.

His wet muscle explores the inside of your mouth, and Ransom can’t help but let his mind wander. You’d look absolutely divine while choking on his fat cock. Spit splattering on your skin and your nails digging into his thighs—your saviour is audibly groaning and nearly rutting against your cunt from the thought. He’d make you swallow, then he’d paint your face.

The sheet over the woman; son amant.

When the only Thrombey-Drysdale born of the family pulls away, you’re trying to catch your breath. But he quickly punches the air out of your lungs when he slaps the fat tip of his cock against your clit. You jolt, but he doesn’t let you escape from him. You only belong in his arms with his cock stuffed in your cunt.

Beads of pre-cum roll drip onto your pussy, mixing with your wetness. “Daddy’s cock is so big, bunny. I don’t think you can take it—but I’ll make you. Yeah, you’re gonna take my fucking cock like the good girl you are,” Ransom speaks lowly, and he sits back up. He’s on his knees, and he has the perfect position to fuck you in. He wants it deep and hard, and he always gets what he wants.

Ransom drags his cock down to your hole, and he covers it entirely. His cock is huge in length and width. He knows that it will hurt you, but that doesn’t matter. He’s helping you out, and he’s giving you something that you don’t know you need.

You glance up at Ransom while you strain your neck slightly. It’s one of many feelings you have right now, but it’s nothing in comparison to the tingling in your core. Your head is still spinning from the kiss, and your lips are raw due to his roughness.

His thick cock is coated in your creaminess, and his veins throb with want. He’s a raging red shade all over, and his member is nearly purple. Ransom prods his bulbous head at your drooling hole, and he loves the way you shiver from his action.

“I haven’t even fucked you yet, and look, you’re all teary-eyed and braindead. No thoughts, huh? S’okay, Daddy’ll do all the thinking for you.”

Ransom’s words distract you briefly, which doesn’t entirely surprise him. But the fact that you can mildly understand what he’s saying through your foggy haze has his smile faltering a bit. Amid his diversion, Ransom pushes the fat head of his cock into your cunt. He breaches into you roughly and stretches you open widely.

Your jaw slacks in a silent scream that isn’t quite silent. Your gasps are choked, and you’re whimpering from the pain and pleasure of his cock. “Oh, I know, bunny. Daddy’s just too big for your tiny little hole,” he coos, but his sympathy turns into annoyance when you try to reach down and push him. His hand leaves your legs, and they stay parted. Your obedience comes with such ease that it makes him kick himself for not acting on his love for you.

“No, stop that. Stay still for Daddy, bunny. I don’t wanna have to get all mean on you…”

His warning is something you don’t take lightly, and before Ransom knows it, you’re sputtering out an apology.

“‘M sorry, Daddy! It hurts… Please don’t be mad,” you babble, and he grins. ‘It’s okay, bunny. Just let Daddy do what he needs to do.”

As soon as he’s done speaking, Ransom fully sheathes his cock inside of you. It’s almost as if his fingers did nothing except lure you to the edge. He waits to hear you cry out in pain, but you simply bite down on your lip until the skin breaks and crimson starts to drip. When you release your pout, you let out a moan that no pornstar can rival. It goes straight to his cock and motivates Ransom to really let go and help his little bunny.

His heavy balls are snug against your sticky ass, and his cock nudges against your sweet spot. You can barely breathe properly, but you don’t care. “Feels so good, daddy,” you mumble out pathetically. “I know, bunny. This little fuckhole is just gripping Daddy’s cock. You love my cock, don’t you? Yeah, you do,” he groans, and he waits for you to answer.

But you’re so fucked out, so damn stupid. You don’t even realize he’s asking you a question. It’s a miracle you’ve made it in life without your best friend.

“Did Daddy’s dick fuck the manners out of you, bunny? When I ask you something, you always answer. I said, you love my cock, don’t you?” he spits through gritted teeth, and you’re quickly nodding. “Yeah, you do. My good little slut. So desperate to get fucked but can barely handle it.”

You nod again, and suddenly he’s pulling out of you. Before you can even weep your miserable cries, Ransom pushes back into you and begins to use your cunt like it’s a fleshlight.

He fucks into your channel relentlessly, skin slapping against skin while strings of your cream stretch from his member to your pussy. You’re stretched past your limit, leaking so much that whenever he slides in and out of you, there’s a loud squelching sound that nearly mutes your moans.

“Yeah, take it, bunny. Take Daddy’s cock like the good girl you are,” Ransom grumbles, holding onto your hips as leverage. You’re mewling his title and nodding continuously, and he just knows that he’s fucked every thought of yours out of your mind. He bets that you don’t even know your name at this point.

“Fuck– You’re drooling,” he notes in practical disbelief. Saliva trickles past the side of your mouth and onto your cheek. You don’t even realize it until he’s pointed it out. But even then, you don’t care. You simply focus on the pressure in your stomach that’s building up again and the way Ransom’s cock drives in and out of you. His thrusts are brutal and quick, almost as if he’s working at an inhumane pace.

“You’re fucking drooling… God, you can barely handle my fat cock. I’m turning you into a silly little mess, bunny. You’re so cute when you’re thinking with nothing but this creamy pussy.”

Ransom ruts into you like a starved animal—like the big bad wolf he is. Each thrust forces a choked-out moan that seems to prolong until the next one interrupts. “Daddy– Feels weird,” you call out, and he smirks. A fire that is a vibrant blue lights itself inside your tummy and in your pussy. It builds up quickly—especially when Ransom’s cock pounds against your sweet spot.

“I know, bunny. I don’t care, though. You just gotta take Daddy’s cock and beg him to let you come,” he tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “D- Dunno how,” you mumble out, and Ransom smirks. “I would tell you to use your brain, but it’s empty, bunny. I know it is. You’re just thinking about my cock like the fucking slut you are. It’s okay, Daddy’ll teach you. All you have to say is Can I come, Daddy?.”

His instructions are simple, but it takes a few seconds for you to comprehend them.

“Oh– C– Can I come, Daddy? P- Pretty please?” you beg, and your high is just a few seconds away. “Good girl, good fucking girl,” Ransom praises, and he stills his thrusts with his cock deep inside your guts. He grinds into you, his patch of growing-pubic hair rubbing against your clit. It sends you over the edge, and you’re panting his name in a loud cry.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your pussy clamps around Ransom’s dick. Your cream coats him and leaves him shining even more, especially at the base. There’s a ring of white stickiness there, and it’s all from your pussy. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” you squeal out, toes curling and legs shaking. Ransom begins to fuck you with that same vigour before, not willing to wait for you to ride out your orgasm. He wants to make you come again and again, until sobbing and on the verge of passing out.

Even then, he won’t stop.

Your heart patters at a hectic pace, and your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your powerful orgasm. The amount of writhing your body does isn’t enough to get Ransom to go easy on your pussy. His pounding is relentless despite the even tighter grip you have on his cock.

He shushes your cries, but his sounds don’t work. How can they? Your body is alight with pleasure, and the look on your face is a silent beg for more. “Look at you, trying to run away from Daddy even though this cunt is crying for me, bunny,” Ransom chuckles, and he grips your hips even tighter. “It’s pathetic, but you’re lucky Daddy loves pathetic little girls like you,” he husks, and the moan you let out is bound to strain your vocal cords.

“Aw, are you gonna come again? Already? You’re so sensitive, bunny. Daddy’s gonna have so much fun with you.”

His fun entails so many things that he knows you’re going to enjoy, whether you’re blissed out of your mind or completely level-headed.

The extremely thin and delicate rubber band in your stomach starts to bend and twist at a rapid pace. It’s quicker than Ransom’s thrusts that you find yourself loving. You love every aspect of him, the good and the bad. “‘M gonna come, Daddy. It feels so good,” you slur, and there’s a faint smile on your face. Ransom mimics it, but his is so much wider and almost villainous. But he’s your hero; he could do no wrong.

“I know, bunny. Daddy just makes you feel so good. C’mon, cream all over my cock like the good girl you are. Do it,” he demands, and because your body simply belongs to him (as do you), you come undone on his command. Your back arches off the carpet, and your tits are pushed forward. Ransom is tempted to take your hardened peaks into his mouth and suck on them, but he’s too enraptured by the look on your face and the sight of your pussy to do so.

His throbbing cock fucks you through your second orgasm of the night, and definitely not the last. There’s a tinge of blood on it, and it only makes him harder. The feeling of him growing thicker inside of you is marvellous, but it takes you by surprise. You gasp loudly as your nails dig into the first layer of your skin. You’re sobbing, but your eyes are missing the tears.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you’re coming on my cock, bunny,” Ransom swears, and he notices the puddle of creaminess at the base of his cock. The reddish-brown colour blends so well with your cum that Ransom just knows you’re meant to be like this, impaled and squirming beneath him. Your cum drips down to his heavy balls that slam against your ass every time he fucks back into you.

Darkness nearly fills your vision as your climax hits you harder than ever. Your two orgasms are blended together, and the pleasure doesn’t seem to have an end. Your walls flutter around your saviour’s thick girth, and they’re just begging him to fill you up. “Daddy…” you whisper, and you notice his thrusts are growing to be more sloppy and short. Ransom uses your pussy like you’re his favourite toy or perhaps even his right fist. He tosses his head back and ignores the way you’re telling him that it’s too much. You don’t know what you’re talking about—Ransom knows what’s best. You shouldn’t be questioning anything he’s doing, especially not when he’s doing the kind thing of helping you out.

“Daddy’s gonna come, bunny. I’m gonna fill up this pussy ‘til you're leaking with my cum for days,” Ransom grunts, and the thought of your panties being stained with his seed sends him tumbling towards his climax. With a guttural moan, he slams into you and makes you yelp. “Fuck, bunny,” he groans deeply, his voice more baritone than it usually is.

As his balls clench, ropes of cum spill inside of your cunt and paint your insides. He’s fantasized about this the day he saw you for the very first time. His big figure slumps over you just a tad bit, but he still holds himself up with his incredible strength. He’s never come this hard before—that’s the effect you have on him. You let out a whimper as you feel Ransom’s cum flood your inner walls.

“Daddy,” you mewl, tired out of your mind yet still aching for more. As promised, he’s helped you out. How could you ever thank him? You certainly don’t have enough money to satisfy him, but you do have that honey pot between your legs and your mere presence to do the fulfilling for you. Anything he wants, anything he needs, you’ll give to him. And vice versa.

“Good girl—such a good girl for letting Daddy use your pussy,” he praises, and you preen.

Almost begrudgingly, Ransom slowly drags his large girth out of your freshly-ruined pussy. You cry out loudly and call his title before saying his name. He ignores you, though, and simply focuses on your messy cunt. As his cum begins to trickle out of you, Ransom watches as your pussy gapes from the stretch of his fat cock. You’re soaked in milky fluids, and the sight has his tongue darting out and swiping along his bottom lip.

“Look at that leaky little cunt. Cream-filled, huh? Think Daddy can have his cake and eat it, too?”

3K notes · View notes

oblwan · 7 months

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Masterlist: Harry Potter (Golden Trio Era)

Preferences

When they meet you.

They try to impress you.

You make them smile.

How they kiss you.

They are nervous around you.

Seeing you cry after a fight.

How they cheer you up.

When someone else is flirting with you.

How they hug you.

How they make you feel beautiful.

Your first date.

Imagines

One-Shots

Water Under The Bridge

You fell in love with Charlie Weasley the moment you met him. However, whenever you try to get him to notice, he doesn’t seem to take a hint. So why is he acting so jealous when you go out with someone else?

Hearts On Fire

The war is over. And Charlie cannot wait for his new life with you to start. Except there’s one problem, he can’t find you.

Here Is Gone

You are certain that you no longer have feelings for Charlie Weasley. But he used to say you would always make your way back to each other. You never took it seriously since it has been over five years but it turns out, he was right.

Series

Hanging By A Moment (Ch.2) (Ch.3) (Ch.4) (Ch.5) (Ch.6) (Ch.7) [COMPLETE]

Your best friend Percy convinces you to go home with him for the holidays and asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend since he’s not out to his family. You accept, wanting to help your friend and thinking it shouldn’t be hard, right? That is until you meet his very much attractive, older brother, Charlie.

Prompts & Drabbles

That Easily

Charlie coming over to your hut at work to show you the small lizards he find, or see if you have eaten, or just to talk, is the best part of your day. But Charlie going to take care of dragons that get loose and getting hurt, is definitely the worst part of your day.

Birthday Gift

Charlie is certain he has done something wrong when you avoid talking to him. Little does he know it has less to do with him and more to do with his birthday gift.

Gingerbread Man

Decorating gingerbread houses at the Burrow, especially between Bill and Charlie.

New Puppy

Charlie is used to you bringing every creature you find to your home. But when you bring home yet another puppy, he was definitely not expecting this.

Dialogues

You come home to find a dragon in the middle of your kitchen.

Charlie is a little upset when you get hurt.

Charlie convinces you to stay with him instead of going out with your friends.

Your clothes won’t fit anymore.

Charlie always plays it cool. Until someone mentions you.

You stay up, waiting for Charlie so you can have breakfast together.

Coming Soon…

She Is Love

Charlie loves to make you blush and nervous because he knows you have a crush on him and he has a crush on you, but he doesn’t like it when someone else makes you blush or nervous.

I’m Yours

Even if you’ve been friends with the twins forever, your boyfriend Charlie still feels a little bit jealous of how close you are with his two younger brothers.

Prompts & Drabbles

Surprise

Bill has a surprise for you when he comes back from Egypt. Well, two.

Dialogues

Bill has always been fascinated with how much smaller than him you are.

Coming Soon…

Get Outta My Dreams

Bill falls in love with his little brothers’ best friend but he is certain that she would not feel the same after seeing him with his werewolf scars.

One-Shots

Tattoo

While you’re trying to study, your boyfriend keeps on trying to distract you. And when he finally does, he notices something on your body he hadn’t seen before.

Love Someone

Fred found a small, lost injured cat while he’s out around the castle with George. When they bump into Malfoy he tells him that the cat is yours. Fred takes care of the small cat planning to return it to their owner the next day, except he wakes up to the owner sleeping next to him instead of the cat.

Right To Be Wrong

[Malfoy!Reader] You are the second person in your family to be placed in Gryffindor. The only one in your family who still talks to you is your brother Draco. He is also the only one that knows about your relationship with Fred Weasley. However, one day, you two get into an argument, your father finds out about your relationship and things go as worse as you imagined they would.

Right To Be Wrong: Home

[Malfoy!Reader] Right to Be Wrong Series - After your parents throw you out of your house, Fred is definitely not going to let you spend Christmas alone at Hogwarts, so he brings you to the famous Burrow to meet his family.

Right To Be Wrong: Run Boy Run

[Malfoy!Reader] Right to Be Wrong Series - You attend the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys and Hermione. Everything seems to be going fine until the Dark Mark is glowing in the sky and Death Eaters are everywhere looking for muggle-borns, and blood traitors.

Right To Be Wrong: Mine

[Malfoy!Reader] Right to Be Wrong Series - You start your sixth year at Hogwarts with new guests that are attending the Triwizard Tournament. You don’t particularly like how some of the new girls are looking at your boyfriend. And Fred definitely doesn’t like how one guy from Durmstrang is looking at you.

Right To Be Wrong: Save The Last Dance For Me

[Malfoy!Reader] Right to Be Wrong Series - With the Triwizard Tournament comes the Yule Ball and you are extremely happy to go with your boyfriend.

Series

Bad Liar (Ch.2) (Ch.3) (Ch.4) (Ch.5) [IN PROGRESS]

Coming back to Hogwarts for your sixth year didn’t start as you expected when you have to witness your ex-boyfriend parade around as one of the champions with his new girlfriend. While you’re in a party that your house threw, you’re fed up with listening to him talking about his new relationship and to have a guy you have no interest in pining over you. So, you do the first thing you could think of. You kiss Fred Weasley.

Prompts & Drabbles

Don’t Turn Around

It has been one year since you’ve lost him. You have not been able to go back to your old room. And when you do, you wish you hadn’t. (Warning: Fred’s death)

Dialogues

Fred saves you from a Bludger, even if you are from the other team.

Fred takes care of you when a prank backfires and you end up hurt.

Coming Soon…

Right To Be Wrong Series

[Malfoy!Reader] A series of related one-shots in different times looking at the relationship between a Weasley and a Malfoy.

One-Shots

Sway

After getting into a massive argument with George when he and Fred dye your hair pink, Fred tries his best to get you two to speak again and finally reveal your feelings for each other.

Flying Love

After a Quidditch match, George finally decides to let you know just how he feels about you.

Little Piece of Heaven

You woke up in the middle of the night to find your husband George with your baby, Fred II, telling him all about the stories with his brother in school.

Banana Pancakes

When you had a bad day, all you wanted to do was go home to your boyfriend and forget about it. But when he comes home after a bad day too, things don’t really go as smooth as you expected.

A Beautiful Mess

The first time you meet Ginny’s brothers, you are a little drunk, still upset over your last break-up. However, one of Ginny’s brothers help you forget all about your ex. There’s only one problem, you can’t remember which brother.

Wolves

[Lupin!Reader] After your biological father and his husband get custody of you, everything seems to get better when George asks you on a date. Until you tell him you are a werewolf.

Prompts & Drabble

Prank Gone Wrong

George comforts you after a prank goes horribly wrong.

Wrong Twin

Everyone thinks you were kissing Fred or… someone who looks remarkably like him.

Dialogues

George catches you when you fall, literally.

One-Shots

Fool Again

When you decide to finally let Percy know how you truly feel about him, he thinks it’s another prank that you came up with his brothers.

Prompts & Drabbles

Come Back

You think you have your crush for Percy under control, until the two of you have to share a bed.

One-Shots

Tongue Tied

Ron gets extremely nervous whenever he’s around you and is rarely able to manage a sentence without stuttering. So he can’t believe when he’s finally able to ask you out and you said yes.

Love On Top

Ron challenges you to a Quidditch match. Girls against boys. But when you hurt yourself, making you lose the match, he decides to confess his feelings instead.

Dance With Me Tonight

Ron asks you to the Yule Ball as a friend. You feel a little devastated until he actually reveals the truth while at the dance.

Padfoot’s Daughter

[Black!Reader] Ron is extremely nervous to meet your father. Especially after Sirius has make it his mission to intimidate the guy who’s dating his daughter.

Dialogues

Ron finding out you’re dating Draco Malfoy. [Weasley!Reader]

One-Shots

Dos Oruguitas

Ever since you were five years old, you were able to do magic. However, with it came a few added powers that you didn’t count on. Your family has been ashamed of the way your emotions control weather above you. People in school are afraid of you whenever you throw a thunderstorm their way. The only person who has always been there for you, is Theodore Nott.

Series

Smile (Ch.2) [IN PROGRESS]

You have always found Theodore Nott to be a very interesting person. And when he asks you to tutor him in Herbology, you realize he is also a very sweet person. There is only one thing that you’re missing and that you’re dying to see. You want to see him smile.

Prompts & Drabbles

Falling In Love

While brewing the Amortentia, you finally realize your feelings for Theodore Nott. Now you only have to figure out how to tell him.

One-Shot

In Your Arms

Your last year at Hogwarts has been the worst one with the new Professors. Everything gets too overwhelming, but you can always count on Neville being there for you. (Warning: panic attack)

What Happens In the Green Houses

You have always wanted to talk to Neville Longbottom, but you figured he doesn’t like you because you’re a Slytherin. So, when the opportunity finally comes up, you are determined to let him know that you are not so bad… for a Slytherin.

True Colors

Fred and George are tired of seeing you and Neville dance around the other without confessing your true feelings. So, they decide to give you a little push.

One-Shots

For Now

It was your turn to get the Dark Mark. And when you go back to school, you know there’s only one person that can help you through this.

All Nightmare Long

After you stand up to Pansy Parkinson, you start having horrible nightmares every time you go to sleep. Draco hates seeing you afraid and exhausted all the time, so he’s determined to get to the bottom of this.

Draco’s Girl

One of the things you love about your relationship with Draco is how much his friends seemed to welcome you into the group.

All I Want For Christmas

While Draco is home for the holidays, he gets a letter from Blaise telling him that something horrible has happened.

Can I Have This Dance?

While your sitting alone at the Yule Ball after being dumped by your date, Draco finally gets the courage to ask you to dance.

Love Me Again

You have no idea why Draco broke up with you out of the blue. When you return to Hogwarts, you noticed that he’s changed in many ways. All you want to do is run into his arms and have him love you again.

Something Stupid

[Lupin!Reader] When your father finds out that you’re in a relationship with Draco, he forbids you to see him anymore. And it leads to you saying things to him that you didn’t mean.

You Found Me

Draco can’t find you after the war is over. And when he does, something is very different about you and you’re afraid he’s not going to love you anymore.

Come Fly With Me

[Muggle!Reader] Draco loves showing you everything about his world and everything that has to do with magic. You love learning about it, but you draw the line when he insists on taking you flying on a broom.

Until I Met You

[Muggle!Reader] Draco comes home after the worst day he’s had on his work as an Auror. (Prequel to Come Fly With Me)

Landslide

When Scorpius comes home for the holidays, you notice he’s been very distant from your husband. Draco is worried that something happened to his son and he soon discovers that he learned about Boggarts before Christmas break. And he learns what Scorpius’ Boggart is.

Lovefool

You have been in love with Draco since you can remember. He has always turned you down, but it isn’t until he goes too far that he realizes how much he messed up.

Series

Stuck With You (Ch.2) (Ch.3) (Ch.4) (Ch.5) (Ch.6) (Ch.7) (Ch.8) (Ch.9) (Ch.10) (Ch.11) (Ch.12) (Ch.13) (Epilogue) [COMPLETE]

Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy. Mrs. Draco Malfoy. It didn’t matter. No matter how you said it, you still cringed at yourself in the mirror when you heard your name now. You still couldn’t believe it. You married Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was your husband. (Warning: arranged marriage)

Prompts & Drabbles

Your Past

One day, when they are helping you make dinner, your son notices something on his dad’s left arm.

Wake Up

Draco wakes up from a nightmare that happened a long time ago and you try to convince him that no matter what happened, he’s your hero. (Sequel to Your Past)

Stay Awake

You notices the changes in Draco and you also noticed the way Harry was looking at him. So, when you follow them to the bathroom and they start cursing each other, you can only think about jumping in front of Draco to save him. (Warning: use of Sectumsempra)

For Me

You are tired of Draco wanting to hide your relationship. When you confront him about it the two of you get into a big argument. However, when you get hurt during the Quidditch match, Draco doesn’t care about who knows about you two.

Dialogues

Harry is pretty impressed about how badass his Hufflepuff girlfriend is.

Your brother comforts you when you’re bullied for being his sister. [Potter!Reader]

One-Shots

Bad Day

You think your day can’t get any worse, when Oliver Wood finds you crying in the Common Room. However, he is able to turn your day around.

I Hate You

You hate Oliver Wood. You have always hated him. You are sure of it. But everyone says that there is a fine line between hate and love.

Swim Down

You are trying your best to keep your feelings for Oliver buried deep down. But when he sees someone else trying to flirt with you, you realize maybe he had been trying to bury them too.

The Chain

He’s the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. You are the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. You don’t think it should be as big of a deal as people would make it out to be. And you certainly didn’t think that your boyfriend is one of those people.

Series

Bad Reputation (Ch.2) (Ch.3) (Ch.4) (Ch.5) (Ch.6) (Ch.7) (Ch.8) (Ch.9) (Ch.10) (Ch.11) (Ch.12) (Ch.13) (Ch.14) (Ch.15) [PAUSED]

Professor McGonagall is willing to give you one last chance to get your act together and your school life back on track. And the only way she knows how is to assign you a mentor; Oliver Wood.

One-Shots

We’ll Be a Dream

You start to question if you are really the best match for Cedric since people always seem to say that you’re not as fun as he is.

Only One

Your best friend Oliver stopped talking to you when you confessed your feelings for him. Now, it’s been a couple of months and he sees you move on with one of his worst rivals, Cedric Diggory. Now he wants to find out if these are real feelings or just pure jealousy.

One-Shots

For Once

[Malfoy!Reader] For your entire life, you have always done the right thing. The thing that your parents want you to do. But know, that it threatens to take the love of your life away and it pairs you up with one of the worst people you’ve met, Adrian begs you to be selfish and do something for yourself for once.

Dialogues

Blaise always pays attention to you.

One-Shots

Girls Like You

After you confess your feelings for your best friend, you get terrified that she doesn't feel the same way.

#masterlist

3K notes · View notes

oblwan · 7 months

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characters i write for:

⫷james potter⫸

⫷sirius black⫸

⫷remus lupin⫸

⫷regulus black⫸

⫷poly!wolfstar⫸

⫷poly!marauders⫸

#masterlist

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oblwan · 7 months

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A Date for the Ball- Pt 3 (Final)

Oliver Wood x Reader (First person)

1505 words

With the Yule ball fast approaching and Oliver Wood already gone from Hogwarts, hig longtime admirer and teammate has to figure out what to do about a date for the big night.

A/N:Part1- http://onceuponaoneshotfanfic.tumblr.com/post/148010923248/a-date-for-the-ball-pt-1

Part 2- http://onceuponaoneshotfanfic.tumblr.com/post/148037576333/a-date-for-the-ball-pt-2

“Ow!”

“Hold still,” said Alicia, laughing as she kneeled behind me on my bed, fixing my hair.

Angelina darted into the room holding up two identical lipsticks. “Guys, which one?!”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “God, you’ve all turned into such girls,” I teased.

“Look who’s talking,” Angelina said with a smirk. “You look like a regular princess with your hair all done and wearing a bathrobe.”

I giggled and looked at the dress hanging from my bed. Despite being dateless, I kind of did feel like a princess.

And, with my hair and makeup done, with the dress on, with the simple gold necklace and earring, I kind of thought I looked like one. I tried to ignore the knots in my stomach reminding me that Oliver Wood wasn’t going to be seeing me like this as I collected Angelina from her room so we could head down together.

Fred Weasley wolf-whistled as we descended down the stairs. “(L/N), you sure you won’t let me have both of the prettiest girls at the ball as my date?” he asked as he offered his arm to Angelina.

I laughed, blushing a little. “Thanks Fred, but I’m fine solo.” The three of us made our way through the crowded common room.

“Alright, but if you want to dance, don’t hesitate to ask, alright?” he said seriously as he helped each of us out of the portrait hole.

We made our way down, following the crowd to the entryway to the Great Hall. We were greeted there by several members of the Quidditch team and other friends from our house. Seeing everyone paired up the way they were suddenly added more knots to my stomach. I nudged Angelina.

“Hey, I’m gonna head outside for a few. Stomach.”

She looked at me with sympathy. “You want me to come with you?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t want you two to miss the first dance.” I smiled as best I could. “I’ll see you in a bit,” I assured her.

As I headed outside, I saw Cho Chang on the arm of Cedric Diggory. Diggory saw me and offered a friendly wave, which I returned with a small smile. Cho, seeing the exchange, tugged Diggory’s arm and led him away.

‘Hey,’ I thought defensively. ‘You can have him. He’s not the Quidditch player I want.’

When I walked through the large doors, the cold hit me- hard. But, being the stubborn girl I am, I kept walking, grateful that my heels were close-toed. I didn’t pay too much attention to where I was heading; I was lost in my thoughts. I finally found myself standing outside the deserted Quidditch pitch, silent except for the music drifting from the castle. The place I’d known so much happiness, made so many memories. The place where I’d kissed Oliver Wood’s cheek, only to curse myself later for not being just a bit bolder…

“How’d I know I’d find you here?”

My heart froze as I turned around.

Oliver Wood stood just a couple feet away, wearing dressing robes and a small smile. Always a muscular young man, I noted that he’d slimmed down a little, making his muscles more prominent. And a manly stubble now graced his cheeks, making him look… well, sexier, to be honest.

“What… how…”

He took a step towards me in the snow, closing the gap between us. “Fred and George wrote me to come. Told me McGonagall wanted to send me an invitation.” He paused, looking at me with hurt in his eyes. “They said you’d told McGonagall not to write me. Is that true?”

I nodded, looking away.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to go.”

Confusion now dominated his face. “Why the bloody hell-” The confusion became clarity. “That letter,” he mumbled. “You’d written me… and I wrote you that bloody stupid letter…” He put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry (F/N). That’s… that’s not what I meant…”

His hands were warm on my cold arms. “What did you mean then?”

He bit his lip, a nervous habit of his. I remembered constantly loaning him my chapstick during every Quidditch season. “I… I was mad. Frustrated.”

“About?”

His eyes were on the ground. “That I couldn’t take you. That someone else was bound to ask you.” He paused. “That I wouldn’t even be able to ask you for one dance.”

My cheeks were on fire despite the cold. “O-Oliver-”

“May I?” he asked, desperation in his eyes. “Please, (F/N)? One dance?”

I nodded fervently. “Yes. My God, yes.” Tears were welling in my eyes.

Wordlessly and with a grin bigger than when we won the Quidditch Cup, Oliver picked me up, bridal style, and carried me up to the castle, holding me close. He set me down once we reached the entrance hall and took my hand. He smiled and lifted it to his lips, giving it the gentlest of kisses.

“Shall we?”

Holding Oliver’s hand, I felt strangely confident as we entered the Great Hall. The dancing was already underway, but several heads turned our way as we approached the dance floor. The Weasley twins even led several Gryffindors in a round of clapping and wolf whistles. Oliver didn’t seem to notice; his eyes hadn’t left me since the Quidditch pitch.

He gently put his arm around me, and I did the same, clutching his free hand in mine. He didn’t hold me at a small distance the way some of the boys did with their dates; instead, he pressed me against him, holding me close enough to feel his heart race.

We danced in silence for a few moments before he finally opened his mouth. He shut it, then opened it again.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured in my ear. He pressed a small kiss on my temple.

I shivered in his arms. “I’ve missed you too.”

“You know what I think about a lot?” he asked nonchalantly as we swayed to the music. “My last game.”

“You were wonderful.” I paused. “You’re always wonderful.”

He shook his head. “Not the game. Before the game.” His lips were by my ear, making sure I couldn’t misunderstand his words. “When you kissed me.” He sighed. “Since I was twelve, when I first laid eyes on you, I’d been hoping for that kiss. But I could never get up the courage to go for it myself.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team… scared?”

Oliver laughed. “Terrified.” Another kiss found my temple. “You do that to me, (F/N).” His lips were once again by my ear. “You do a lot of things to me,” he added, a hint of seduction in his voice.

I shivered again.

He smirked at me knowingly. “Cold?” he teased.

“You know,” I said in a challenging voice. “Just because you’re not at Hogwarts anymore doesn’t mean you’re not a Gryffindor anymore. You can still be brave, Oliver.”

His eyes searched mine. “Do you want me to? Be brave?” he asked quietly. I nodded. A small smile played on the lips I’d spent countless hours thinking about. “Alright.”

Slowly, silently, Oliver Wood leaned forward- and touched his lips to mine.

We stopped dancing and just stood there, bodies and lips pressed together, both of his hands on my waist and mine around his neck. It was small and sweet, but quickly grew deep and passionate, as if the years of friendly flirtations, the longing stares, and daily daydreams, suddenly couldn’t stay silent for another moment.

As cliché as it sounds, the kiss, though it lasted a few moments, felt as though it went on for years and years; it felt as though it was making up for the many years of holding back.

When we finally parted, we stared at each other, unable to speak or even breathe. Around us, couples continued to dance (and in the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s case, cheer), but we were still, glued to that moment.

“’Bout damn time,” I finally said with a smile.

Oliver laughed and pecked my lips again. “The best things in life are worth waiting for.” He pulled me close and swayed along to the music. “So, (L/N). I’ve been wanting to ask you something. But I didn’t want to ask it through a silly little letter.”

“Yes, Wood?”

He lifted my chin so that I could look him in the eye. “How do you feel about long-distance relationships? At least, until you graduate, that is.”

I could not contain my smile. “With a certain young man, I wouldn’t mind if that distance was to the moon and back.”

“Good.” His grin grew as he pressed my head back to his muscular chest. “You look lovely, by the way.”

“Thank you,” I murmured blissfully.

“I particularly love that dress.” There was an edge of teasing in his voice. “Very… Puddlemere United.”

I looked up at him, my ears burning red. “Shut up,” I mumbled.

Oliver laughed. “Make me,” he challenged.

So I did.

#oliver wood #oliver #mini series #completed #friends to lovers

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oblwan · 7 months

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Any Time You’re Ready

After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.

Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents

A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you’re the one”

Keep reading

#oliver wood #oliver #one shot #friends to lovers

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oblwan · 7 months

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what letters? | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

genre: miscommunications, angst, unrequited crushes, fluffy ending, not proofread

wc: 3.1k

originally posted on wattpad

"you deserve someone better," peter said in confirmation to her words (despite her tone being laced with sarcasm).

"you deserve me," sirius chirped in, smiling charmingly. she rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, only for his grin to grow wider. "scratch that, you're too good for me love."

"you deserve prongs."

there's nothing worse than being stood up on a date. being sat there, waiting for someone who would not show up, feeling as though everyone's eyes were on you, silently judging you for your lack of luck.

it feels even more terrible when you're sat at a crowded place, people roaming around thinking they've found an empty spot only to find out that you were sat there: at a table for two or more on your own.

"guess what?" james asked, sitting down beside her in the empty booth without sparing a second thought. if he noticed her sour mood, his didn't show it.

"what?" she mumbled, amusing him.

"so you know how evans and i are partnered up for potions?" he said slowly, moving closer to her so sirius, peter, and remus could slide into the booth as well. at her nod, he continued, "and do you recall how i fancied her for so many years?"

"i think i do," she answered, feeling slightly nauseous at the prospect that maybe just maybe lily finally gave in and agreed to go on a date with him. "what about it?"

"so i was talking to her today and for the first time in forever, i didn't feel anything."

she looked at him skeptically, taking in his words into consideration. "congratulations?"

"congratulating me feels a bit pathetic," he said off-handedly, voice calmer than when he first started. clearing his throat, james leaned back to the booth as he decided to switch the topic. "so how was the date- oh."

so he did not notice her sour mood.

"he's ugly anyways," james said firmly, "he's a waste of time, you're too good for him."

it seemed as of he was stating his opinion rather than trying to comfort her, saying every uplifting thing he could think of. and before she even knew it, the other three boys joined in, trying to lighten up their mood.

she couldn't stay upset for long when their smiles were so infectious, the corner of her lips turning up as well. "yeah, yeah, i get it. that's enough, i'm out of his league. i know."

"you deserve someone better," peter said in confirmation to her words (despite her tone being laced with sarcasm).

"you deserve me," sirius chirped in, smiling charmingly. she rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, only for his grin to grow wider. "scratch that, you're too good for me love."

"you deserve prongs."

•••

one of the things she hated most about being close to the marauders was how much they shared their life with her. being the only girl in their friend group, she was the designated person to go to whenever there were girls problems.

she didn't mind remus, peter, or even sirius when they came for advice but there was always something bothering her when james came to her. it hurt to hear him talk about other girls he wanted to go on dates with.

she couldn't understand why it stung so much, hurting to an extent that she couldn't quite describe, it felt as if it was a deep frustration kept inside of glass bottle, unable to be opened unless it was shattered. she succumbed when the pressure became to much, confiding in sirius and remus her feelings only to have them point it out. she fancied james.

she fancied her best friend.

and every guy she'd dated ever since he became infatuated with lily evans was just a ruse to distract herself from her real feelings. maybe that was why she didn't feel sad but rather annoyed when she was stood up on a date. why sirius purposely nudged her in what he deemed was the right direction when he said that she deserved someone like james.

she mustered up the courage to tell him how she felt multiple times but was always discouraged whenever he brought lily up, whenever he mentioned anything that she did and put her up on a pedestal.

lily was great, she knew that, she was friends with lily herself and the girl is nothing but an angel.

and as much as she thought that the two of them would make a good couple, she couldn't help but feel relieved when james told her he'd finally gotten over her. maybe this was the right time for her to finally make her move.

there was a knock on the door making her perk up from her seat. clearing her throat and straightening out her shirt, she called out. "come in!"

the doorknob turned, the door creaking open the slightest bit, unruly black hair peeking through the small opening, james had an hand over his glasses. "are you decent?"

with a short laugh, she answered him, "i am."

james came in, a goofy grin on his face when he shut the door behind him. standing almost awkwardly, he looked at her. "a little werewolf told me, you wanted to see me."

"i do." she can't help but smile in return, patting an empty spot besides her. james came forward, taking her invitation for him to be sat. "i wanted to tell you something."

james looked at her patiently, hanging onto her every word. "what is it?"

she gulped, running the scenario over one last time before she spoke it out loud. it was the day before the school year ended, everyone would be on their way back home tomorrow and it was now or never. she was going to tell him how she felt.

and it only took sirius promising her that if she confessed, he would take her on a book shopping spree, all expenses paid by him, even if they were hard covers. the things sirius would do for his friends to be in love.

"promise you won't be mad at me?"

james frowned, his brows furrowing. "why would i ever be mad at you?"

she huffed anxiously, looking to the side. "you might be after i tell you this."

james thought about it for a second, frown not once wavering. "i promise i won't be mad at you."

"okay," she mumbled more to herself than anything, gathering up everything she had in herself for her next words, "i like you. a lot."

james frowned deepened, why would he be mad at her for liking him?

and then it hit him, his eyes widening. she liked him unliked the way she liked sirius or remus or peter, she fancied him. "oh."

"are you mad at me now?" she asked slowly.

james shook his head frantically, denying it. "no, no, no, i promise you i wouldn't be. why would i even be mad at you?"

she studied him, trying to see if he was actually mad at her yet he was being the kind person he is or if he was being genuine. finally she settled on, explaining to him her thought process instead. "because this could potentially ruin our friendship."

"it doesn't," james murmured softly, skipping over her confession. "nothing can ruin our friendship."

•••

"hey remus," she said, clutching her landline close to her ear, "have you heard from james?"

"yeah, why?"

"nothing," she replied way too quickly for either of them to believe her. "[name]..." remus drawled out slowly, trying to get her to let up on whatever it is that bothered her. "i told him."

remus kept silent for a second, she could hear shuffling from his side of the call. "and what did he say?" he asked finally.

she cleared her throat, wondering how their phone call went from the topic of the full moon to this. it was summer break, everyone being back in their respective homes.

sirius was at his flat, his doors open for whenever she needed company. remus was back home, staying with his parents as he helped his mother with her work. peter was at a summer camp, he didn't tell them much about it and they never bothered to ask, if he was okay then it was good enough. james was on vacation with his family, going to see as much of europe as they possibly can.

ever since the break started, she had kept consistent contact with them. remus had picked up every call, answered every letter and even flooed to her house when she'd asked him to. she'd helped sirius moved into his new flat —bought with his uncle's money and even stayed with him as he settled in for while. peter wrote back as much as he could which was to say not much, but the good news was he found a kind girl named ava, he'd even had his first kiss with her.

she'd spoken to all of them but james. there was not a single word that's been exchanged between the two ever since break started. she couldn't call him so she opted on owling him, but her owl always came back empty handed. she was getting worried, maybe his promise of not being mad broke.

"nothing," she answered.

there was a hum from remus, a sense of tranquility falling between the invisible line. "he never knows what to say anyways. have you tried talking to him?"

"i have," she said quietly, "he hasn't replied to any of my letters. i've sent dozens and i haven't heard a single hello in return."

"maybe it got lost," remus suggested tiredly.

she made a sound of agreement before countering, "or maybe he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"no," remus dismissed, "he probably forgot to answer, you know how prongs is."

"i've got to go," she said, ready to hang up, "i'll see you on the train?"

"i'll see you then," remus said, and then just before the call ended, he added, "don't over think it, james is an idiot."

•••

"[name]!" sirius cheered the moment he saw her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder the second he got to her side. "how's my pretty girl doing?"

she looked at him with a small struggling smile, unable to carry her luggages under his weight. sirius noticed, pulling out his wand and levitating it behind them. "i'm good, how are you pads?"

"i'm as great as you are," he muttered before spotting remus, calling out for the lanky marauder to join the pair of them. remus kissed his mother on the cheek, bidding his father goodbye then turned to them with a timid smile. sirius repeated his question the second remus came within ear shot. "how's my lovely boy doing?"

"i've been better," he said honestly. sirius took his appearance in, brows furrowing when he noted that remus was still recovering. sirius repeated his spell, levitating remus' luggages behind the three of them as well. "where's prongs?"

"i dunno," sirius said carelessly, completely indifferent with how she tensed up beneath his arm. "i'm sure he's waiting for us in one of the carriages."

"or not," remus muttered, and before he had the chance to rethink his words, he blurted out, "he's probably with evans, they're the new head boy and girl after all."

they are?

james had not told her anything, not one single thing since break started and met its end. and now this?

she felt her stomach drop, every muscle in her body going weak. she froze in her step, unable to keep moving with the information in mind. he was with her, again. she knew that it was wrong for her to feel this way, james had a life, he can do whatever he pleased.

but it did not feel good knowing that neither sirius nor remus told her about this revelation before hand. not until she was to face him again.

"what's wrong?" sirius asked with worry, halting in his steps as well.

remus eyes widened, finally realizing the consequences of his own words. merlin, how he longed to dig himself into a hole right then and there.

"nothing," she answered after a while, feigning a smile. "nothing's wrong."

sirius gazed at her skeptically, disbelieving. "are you sure?" at her nod, sirius pursed his lips, accepting it for now. "let's find ourselves some seats then."

sirius led the way onto the hogwarts express, passing carriages upon carriages to try and find an empty one. eventually, he found one with an all too familiar face in it.

sat there with a big smile was james potter in all his glory, chatting to peter about who knows what. it didn't take long for him to notice their presence, smile growing wider when he stood up, opening up the carriage's door for them.

she turned, not wanting to be trapped in the same compartment as james for the next seven -eight? hours of the train ride only for her wrist to be caught before she could make her escape. glancing up at the arm, she found remus looking back at her with worried eyes.

she shook her head, silently begging for him to let go but remus didn't budge, his grip on her wrist tightened, keeping her in place. "i'm okay remus."

"please," she pleaded so quietly that he almost hadn't heard it. almost. reluctantly remus dropped his hand, letting her go. "i'll see you at dinner."

and with that she left, finding a seat on the other side of the train with her dorm mates and other housemates. her luggages were already put away and she trusted sirius enough to not lose her stuff.

"where's [name]?" asked james from his spot, her stuff was there but where was she? he hadn't seen her in so long. "she left," remus snapped, seeming as if he was ready to bite james' head off but he chalked it up as the after full moon effect. "why?"

"i don't know mate, you tell me."

•••

ignoring james potter was a hard process, the boy was loud (and obnoxious) his presence was everywhere she looked, from her classes to the great hall when all she wanted was a sandwich. "good morning."

"morning," remus said in return, settling besides her on her house table. "did the daily prophet come in yet?"

she thought about it for a second, chewing on her food. "no."

remus nodded, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "prong's asking for you."

"he is?" she asked with slight surprise.

"he thinks you're avoiding him." remus paused for a second, watching as sirius sat down opposing them. "which you are," he added pointedly, "but he wants to know why."

she opened her mouth, ready to reply when she spotted the fore-mentioned boy approaching their table. she stood up, grabbing her stuff as quick as she could and bid remus and sirius goodbyes.

"it happened again!" james exclaimed the moment he landed by sirius' side. "she didn't even say hello!"

•••

james had had enough. it had been three months and two weeks since she admitted her feelings to him and he never once had the chance to speak to her since. he didn't understand why she didn't talk to him on the train then and he didn't understand it now.

when the five of them were sat in the same room, talking within themselves. she had barely even look at him, only chatting with sirius, remus, and peter, it was as though he didn't exist.

he'd had enough, he decided, standing up abruptly. she was sat at sirius' desk, joking with remus —who was sat on sirius' bed about something james couldn't comprehend. making his way over, james cleared his throat, gathering their attention.

"why are you ignoring me?" he asked directly, ignoring the cautious looks that both remus and sirius threw at him.

playing dumb, she frowned. "i'm ignoring you?"

"don't act daft! you've have been ignoring me and you know it!" james said accusingly, "you told me you fancied me and got me all happy and confused and then you proceed to go out of your way to avoid me so please, for godric's sake, why have you been ignoring me?"

"why have i been ignoring you?" she repeated incredulously, "you ignored me first. that's why i'm ignoring you."

"what do you mean i ignored you first?!" he exclaimed with disbelief, "i haven't seen you in three months and when i finally do you won't even look at me, how is any of this my fault?"

"how is any of this your fault?" she repeated, her tone ridiculing him. "i sent you dozens of letters and you never answered! i thought you hated me!"

"letters?" james asked, "what letters?"

she scoffed, "i wrote to you. all through summer. and you never once answered. screw that, i don't care that you didn't answer because maybe they got lost since you kept on traveling but you knew where i'd be and yet you never wrote a single word to me."

"i thought you hated me, i thought you didn't want to see me anymore so i didn't see the point in wanting to see you."

james bit his lips, considering her words. "i didn't write to you because i wanted to give you space."

"when you told me you liked me i was ecstatic, i was also so confuse because i didn't understand why i felt so happy. i thought i liked evans but it's always been you all along and i didn't know how to accept that so i never said anything. i promised you i wouldn't be mad at you let alone hate you and i never was, not once was i mad at you. i was mad at myself for not realizing i loved you sooner."

"what am i supposed to say to that james." she huffed out, feeling helpless. the other three boys were listening in, watching as the drama unfolded while simultaneously silently rooting for them to get with one another, she knew they were.

"that you love me too," james suggested weakly, "i would really like it if you told me you love me too."

"i do," she admitted, "i've always loved you james."

james broke out into a grin. "so you're my girlfriend now?" he asked cheekily. she rolled his eyes, smiling at him as well. "take me out on a date first." he beamed at her, "of course, when are you free gorgeous?"

"when i'm done scamming your best friend's money for books."

—from bee: sigh jamesssss :<

#james #james potter #one shot #friends to lovers

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oblwan · 7 months

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Flowers and Confessions

With; Peter Parker (tasm)

A/N: Hey beautiful people. It has definitely been a minute. Was doing yard work and this idea came to me and wouldn’t leave me alone. I’d like to credit @luveline because their beautiful writing regarding tasm Peter has inspired me to bring this idea into words.💜

The sun is strong, it beams brightly on your skin as your eyes search the colorful array of plants in front of you. The varying species have bloomed brightly thanks to the care of you and your coworkers. The convenience store you’ve come to know as your second home has come to life in the summer season. Customers buzz around in search of fresh fruit and sandwiches for a beach day. You envy them, half wishing you’d be able to join the masses heading to the shore.

The other half relishes in your work. You know you’re luckier than most, to enjoy your job as much as you do. To spend the day in the warm weather surrounded by flowers. Suggesting certain flowers to specific people, explaining to them what would work best for them. It’s healing, to constantly be surrounded by growth and greenery.

It’s not all happy go lucky. Of course, it’s still hard work. You’re reminded of the fact when you catch the pile of potting soil bags beside the greenhouse. Whoever had delivered them failing to properly stack them on the display.

“Assholes.” You mutter to yourself, offering a sweet smile to a customer heading into the store in hopes they didn’t overhear. One by one, you haul the heavy bags onto the palette. Keeping them in organized stacks as best you can.

“Need a hand?” A smooth voice calls beside you. You’re about to politely decline, not wanting a customer to have to help. But you recognize the face, the alluring features making your heart skip a beat.

“That obvious?” You blush at his laugh, shocked with his immediate action. He takes two bags at a time, tossing them into the platform with ease. You quirk a brow at his strength, as the boy from physics class at university surely don’t look like much of an athlete.

“I thought I recognized you.” He admits, studying you in his peripheral.

“Physics with Murphy, right?” The brunette nods, grimacing at the mention of your shared professor.

“Dude’s a total dick.” You giggle at his deadpan, not letting his pleased expression with your reaction go unnoticed.

Peter decides then he’d like to hear that laugh a lot more.

“He is, in fact, a total jerk. Took ten points off my last exam for solving the equation a different way than he taught.”

“He tried to confiscate my board last week for skating on campus.”

“To be fair, you were doing ollies in the courtyard.”

“Irrelevant detail. Y/n, right?” He pauses his efforts for a moment, straightening in order to properly introduce himself.

You nod, suppressing a grin at his remembrance of your name. “And you’re-”

“Parker. Uh, Peter Parker.” He offers his hand, trying not to cringe at his own introduction. You pretend not to notice.

“Thank you, for the help.”

“No big deal. I’m actually sort of stalling.” He grabs a particularly heavy bag you’re struggling with, placing another atop of it and tossing it with the others. His eyes avery to your astonished expression, and he seems to start huffing with effort just then. Somehow just starting to struggle with the effort when placing the last couple bags onto the pile.

“Stalling what, exactly?”

“Well, I happen to have been tasked with buying flowers for my aunts house. She mentioned how my Uncle always used to plant flowers at the beginning of the season each year, and I didn’t want her to have to do it herself. So, technically I tasked myself.”

“That’s sweet. Parker Peter.”

“Ha-ha.” He feigns offense, kind smile behind the pointed look he sends your way. “Anyways, I don’t know the first thing about planting flowers.”

“You’re in luck then. That’s kinda my job.” You brush some of the stray soil off your clothes, turning towards the rows of flowers.

“Do you have an idea of what she likes?” The taller boy follows behind as you walk down the aisles of greenery, picking off any dead petals as you go.

“Well, Ben always used to get these smaller flowers, with sort of squared leaves. They used to get a lot bigger once they were planted.” You hum at his description, chewing on your lip in thought. He tries his best not to stare, but you’re clearly in your element and it’s distractingly attractive.

“He probably used impatients. They’re generally easy to care for. Best with light watering and partial shade.” Peter nods, albeit not having listened much due to his staring. He noticed you in class the first week, but the pretty girl that doodles through lectures is a lot more real now. Your lively personality is undoubtedly intimidating.

“Plants in the green house over here tend to need more shade. Opposed to these out here that need more sunlight. Are there lots of trees at your house or is it more open?” You snap your head to meet his eyes, unknowing of his longing gaze. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Don’t be.” Your cheeks redden at his assurance. It takes him a minute to realize your awaiting an answer.

“It’s a brownstone, so we don’t have space for a lot of flowers. But it gets a fair amount of sun. Sorry, I’m not much help, am I?”

“You are.” You shoot him a reassuring smile before surveying the shelves again. “If it’s any consolation, I consider you a savant at physics.” Peter scoffs, bowing his head to hide his blushing cheeks. You attempt to contain the butterflies when his shoulder brushes yours.

“Thats a grossly overestimated statement.”

“Is not! Let’s not pretend you haven’t been letting your notebook slide into view since the start of the semester.” You nudge his shoulder defiantly, rolling your eyes fondly when he only shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He meets your accusing eyes and crossed arms, both falling into a comfortable gaze before he snaps out of it. “Alright, flower help please.” His arms motion you forwards and you do as suggested, continuing your search.

🕷 🕷 🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

“I think you’re all set then. I’ll just write you an order ticket and you can go inside and hand it to one of the cashiers so they can ring you up.”

“Great. Thank you, really, for all your help. I think I’d have given up had you not been here.” He divulges, watching you scribble down his order and taking the ticket with a tight-lipped smile.

“Anytime, Parker. I’ll see you in class then?”

“You will.” He wants to ask you out, ask if you’re seeing anybody. But there’s a possibility you’ll turn him down, and he’d rather not spend the rest of the semester avoiding you. Peter heads towards the store’s entrance, hesitating for a moment and stopping his own feet from turning back towards you. You’re already busying yourself with another task.

Unbeknownst to Peter, you’re completely aware of his delay. Praying he’ll approach you again with an invitation to a coffee together, or even lunch in the courtyard between classes. Your heart sinks when he comes back outside and heads straight for his car.

***********

Only ten minutes left in your shift, thank god. You’re counting down the minutes, eager to go home and relax. You’re just finishing sweeping up the greenhouse when a voice sounds behind you.

“So, turns out I’m not so much of a green thumb.”

You startle, losing grip of the broom at the surprise. It’s in Peter’s grasp sooner than you can blink, his speed almost dizzying you.

“Planting not going as well as you’d hoped?” You accept the broom with a grateful nod, continuing your work as the brunette sighs. Hands stuffed in his pockets and gaze pointed towards the foot currently kicking at a bag of soil.

“Not at all, as if my appearance told you any different.” You laugh louder than you should, fighting the heat that rises to your cheeks as you survey his dirt-ridden clothes. His pants are tattered, from skating mishaps or that of gardening you aren’t sure. You brush a blade of grass off his shoulder, and although it does little to aid his appearance, it gives you an excuse to touch him. He nibbles on his bottom lip, an action that has your stomach flipping inside out. He’s thinking.

“Listen, this might be forward. And a little Ted Bundy-ish…But clearly I suck at this. And you’re like, well amazing with it. Any chance you’d like to swing by mine and help me out? Lunch on me if you agree.”

You take a moment to size him up, battling with the notion of going to a pratical strangers house. But peters nice, you fondly recall his not-so-nonchalant habit of pushing his paper into your view during exams. His looks don’t hurt either.

“Sorry, that was forward. I didn’t mean to make you uncom-”

Something dawns on you as he begins a Drabble of nervous rambling. An opportunity. And maybe it’s the end-of-shift optimism talking, but you want to make a move. What’s the worst that could come from taking a chance on Peter Parker anyway?

“Say we make a deal, Parker.” He straightens at this, flushed, straying gaze snapping back at your use of his last name. He could get used to that.

“You help me out with this current physics chapter…Over some lunch, of course. And I help you out with May’s garden. Cool?”

He smiles, a genuine, truly grateful smile, and your heart melts into a million pieces.

“Go clock out.”

🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

“Peter never really brings many friends home. Especially girls.”

“May, please.” Peter chastises, attempting to shoo her back into the house. You’re well into planting when Peter’s Aunt comes out to give you both ‘refreshments’ for your hard work. Some of the best lemonade you’ve ever had and chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven. No wonder the boy is so kind, this woman is an angel.

“You said she was pretty but I didn’t think-”

“May! Inside, please!” He ushers her off of the porch, shutting the screen door and resting his head on his arms to hide his face. You try your hardest not to spontaneously combust in the place you’re standing.

“What was that about me being pretty, Parker?” He rolls his head to face you, half of his face pressed into his forearms as a shy smile upon him. Dark features highlighted in the early afternoon sun. Pretty…Peter Parker thinks you’re pretty.

“I think the heat is getting to her. I’m not sure what she’s talking about.”

“Right. Let’s get to work.”

🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

Peter Parker is no stalker. At least, that’s what he tells himself when he keeps any eye out for you during his patrols. It’s only when you have a late shift, he’ll make sure you get home safe. You’ve spent the last couple weeks studying after class together, and even started hanging out in your free time. Friends, no longer the in-class acquaintances. He’s gotten to know you so much in so little time, you two just seem to click. The text buzzed his phone just after stopping a petty burgalary of an old woman’s purse. Who happened to think the web-slinger in the red and blue was just another perpetrator. It was a couple whacks to the head from her that made him think the text had been some hallucination.

Guess who just got a B+ on her last exam? I owe you one. Lunch on me tomorrow?

You had it in you the whole time sweetheart. Dick professor and all. It’s a date 😄

He’s feeling particularly bold, and the pet name sort of slips out. He’s about to start his swing home when his phone buzzes again.

Cool. Hoping I’m not a zombie tomorrow, Alexa called out again so I had to pick up yet another closing shift. On my way home now. 😴

His brows raise at this, usually you close with a coworker of yours so you both walk home together. From what it sounds like though, you’re alone.

This late? Don’t you usually walk home with Vanessa?

I’ll be fine. The concern is sweet though, Parker. Goodnight <3

He’s displeased with the response. But shrugs it off. The walk from your house to work, from what you’ve told him, of course, is short. You should be fine. Peter tried to convince himself, truly. But there’s this tugging at his gut throughout his journey home. He’s only two swings west before he’s pulling a 180, changing direction towards the grocery store.

You’ve just set your phone in your pocket when you pass the alleyway. The sun has only just set, but this side of the city isn’t as busy at night. That’s why the two men beginning to trail your path set a whole in the pit of your stomach. Heart rate picking up when they match your pace. They’re not even subtle, clear in the intention to intimidate you. You reach for your phone again, fingers only dialing 9 before you’re up against the wall. A grimy hand muffles your screams, but the assailant isn’t anticipating the stream of pepper spray that comes next.

“Son of a bitch! You’re dead, you slut. Grab her!” The man covering his eyes instructs the other, slightly shorter guy next to him. He does as told, reaching for you with an iron grip.

“Get the fuck off me!” You’re shocked at your ability to speak. Adrenaline and pure terror violating your entire system as you writhe and struggle away from his hands.

“You’re not gonna want to make this harder. Just stay still.” His words emit bile from your gut, and you let out another cry as you fight his grasp.

“I think she told you to back off.” A new voice sounds from behind. In an instant, the shorter man is plastered against the cold brick. Some sort of webbing securing him against the stone. The other has recovered from your defense, reddened, squinting face, swatting at the vigilante with a knife. Spiderman dodges with ease, getting more than enough punches in as he speaks.

“Now I don’t know about you two, but I was taught to respect a rejection.” With that, the first attacker is on the ground, hands and feet webbed together.

You’re doing your best to control your breathing, everything have moved too fast to process. You’d thought you’d be prepared if something like this ever happened. But had this random vigilante not been here, the one you’ve only seen on the news and in the papers, you’d likely be dumped in some alleyway right about now. The thought brings dots to the corners of your vision. It’s only then you realize you’d been crying.

“Hey, hey, you alright? It’s okay, you’re okay now.” The masked man assures, shooting a series of webs that completely secure the men in their positions and muffle their mouths.

“I don’t- I thought, I don’t know.” You hate the crack in your voice, how distant you sound. The emotion makes your head spin.

“They didn’t touch you, right? You’re not hurt?” He goes to pat your arms for injuries, gloved hands instantly dropping to his sides when you flinch at oncoming contact.

“Shit, sorry.” He mutters, looking around frantically to asses anymore possible danger. “Listen, you have to get out of the street. You gotta get home. You’re sure you’re not hurt.” You nod at his instructions, blinking hard to ground yourself.

“Right, home. Yeah.” You wipe at your face, assessing yourself for any abrasions. “I’m okay.” Spiderman seems less tense at those words, nodding to himself. Stepping in front of your gaze when it shifts towards the men beside you.

“Hey, don’t look over there. Alright? They’re not gonna hurt you, they’re not gonna hurt anyone.” He’s animated when he speaks, no doubt unconsciously overcompensating for his hidden facial expressions. You can’t help but feel familiar in his presence, nostalgic in his stature. The sounds of sirens pull you away from the incredulous thoughts.

“That’s usually my cue.” He notes, head turning towards the direction of the oncoming lights and then back to you.

“You can’t-Don’t leave.” You struggle for words, unable to process all that’s happening.

“Listen, I’m gonna be with you until the cops get here. But they’re not my biggest fans. But you won’t be alone with them-”

“No.” You interrupt, shaking your head and pulling at his arm so he’ll take a step closer. “You’re hurt.” You motion to the gash on his side, just at the start of his ribs.

“Oh.” He comments plainly, clearly only noticing the injury now. “That little thing, you should see the other guys.” The immediate deflection forces a small giggle from your lips. You don’t miss the way his gaze snaps immediately upwards in response to the sound.

“You’ll need stitches.” You’re almost grateful for the distraction, the injury bringing focus and purpose to your scrambled mind.

“You need to talk to the police, and I need to get out of here-”

“No. No police. They can’t do much, and by the looks of these guys they already have records. They’ll be locked up either way.” Your evaluation elicits a series of mumbles from the guy you pepper sprayed, and you don’t even hesitate before making your way towards him. Pressing your heeled foot into his exposed hand.

“Hopefully those grabby hands keep good hold of the fucking soap, fuckface.” You seethe as he whines at of your actions.

“Alright, we really should get going then.” You turn back to spiderman, whose only now clutching his side.

“My apartment. It’s not too far from here.” You suggest as the red and blue flashing lights get closer.

“I’d argue that’s a bit forward, but we’re out of time. You mind if we take my way, sweetheart? I know a short cut.” He steps closer, opening his arms so you’ll grab hold of him.

“Hold on, you don’t mean-”

You’re cut off by your own screams when you’re hoisted into the air. Arms clasped around the vigilantes neck in a death grip. He’s got hold of your waist with one arm, the other busied with swinging. Wind whips wildly all around you, and you don’t even dare opening your eyes to see just how far above ground you are.

“Want to give me an address, sweetheart?”

🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

“It’s just you here?” Spiderman questions, letting you assist him onto your couch. It seems as though his injury has gotten progressively worse with all the exertion of the journey here.

“I was gonna dorm on-campus, but I needed the independence.” You reply, scanning your cabinets for your first aid kit.

Peter knows he’s in deep shit. Of course, you can’t know who he really is. But it feels wrong, really fucking wrong, to have you rush around to stitch up some strangers who’s actually one of your hood friends. At least, he hopes you consider him a friend. However you consider him, it’ll all be ruined once you find out he’s been lying.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” You shrug, sitting beside him so you can lay out the supplies.

He surveys the quaint apartment, eyes scanning the small but cleanly living space. It’s decorated just how he’d imagined. Succulents and other varying plants just about everywhere. A healthy mix of vintage and modern furniture adorning the space.

“My parents are from the city, but they moved to Jersey when they were kids. I grew up there, but I guess going to school in New York just seemed right. I guess, until now.” You train your gaze in the equipment, pouring alcohol onto a pad of gauze.

“Hey, the city isn’t all bad. Take it from a guy who fights crime as a hobby.” A huff of amusement escapes your nose, and you hold up the cloth to signal you’re ready. He sighs, pulling at his suit so his left side is completely exposed. Rolling down the fabric until it reaches his waist. You do your best to ignore the toned muscle of his arm, heart skipping a beat when the half of his uncovered abdomen reveals even more muscles.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Okay, alright. Just maybe, count to three or some-JESUS FUCK!”

“Shhhh! Would you be quiet, I’m gonna get a noise complaint from my neighbors.”

“I told you to count!”

“I thought it’d be easier to just get it over with, like a band aid.”

“That was definitely not like a band aid.”

“Sorry. But if it makes you feel any better, the hard parts just starting”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve received at-home stitching.”

“So what, you have a list of girls you go to for patching up?”

“Just you so far, sweetheart. But if you have any nursing student friends I’d be happy to-ouch!” He grips your wrist after you apply the first stitch, no doubt shocked expression under the fabric of his mask. “What the hell?”

“You were getting mouthy.”

“I should have strangers patch me up more often, if they’re anything like you.” Sometimes, when he’s in the suit, Peter’s forwardness surprises even himself. It’s a sense of protection, a sort of confidence one only gets with the anonymity.

“So when the press asks me about the hero who saved me, should I tell them he’s a hopeless flirt?” And then there’s you, grounding him like just about nobody can.

“Sure, make sure to add he quite literally swept you off your feet. That’ll really get them going.” The stranger sucks air through his teeth when you reach a particularly painful stitch, letting his head fall back onto the couch with a steady exhale. You mutter an apology, flushed at the intimacy of it all.

“I never actually thanked you. For what you did back there. So…Thank you, really. If you weren’t there I don’t know what they-”

“Hey, you’re welcome.” He cuts you off, no doubt picking up on your increased anxiety at the mention of the situation. You offer a soft smile, his heart twinges at the pain behind it. But he’s not Peter Parker right now, not to you, anyway. His head lolls to the collage of Polaroids that hang from the Polaroids on the wall. There’s one of him, twizzler hanging out of his mouth with his brows furrowed, trying to perfect a trick in his board.

“That’s Peter.” You smile to yourself as you begin the final touches of your work, grateful for the sewing classes in eight grade.

“Boyfriend?”

“Friend that’s a boy. Though he’s a bit clueless.” You correct, expression suddenly contemplative. He’s about to pry, but your realization startled him out of any further questioning.

“Shit, Peter! I was supposed to text him when I got home.” You frantically search for your phone, but Peter sees it before you do. Webbing it into his lap and shoving it under his thigh in hopes you don’t try and text him. Because what the fuck does spiderman say when his phone suddenly starts to buzz?

“Listen, I should really for going. Thank you, for the hospitality and, um, the procedure. It was great meeting you, pretty stranger.” You pause your search, hands on your hips with raised brows and an amused grin.

“So that’s it, spiderman? I patch you up and you flee?” It’s a bitter goodbye, the certain familiarity of him is so welcoming, so calming. A piece of you wants him to stay. The other side wants this bizzare, terrifying night to just come to an end.

“I’ll catch you in the flip side, sweetheart. Be safe, yeah?” He’s gone in seconds, off your fire escape and disappearing into the darkness like some god damned comic book scene.

🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

“You totally have a crush on spider-man!”

“Peter.” You whine pathetically, covering your face with your hands. Squirming when he tries to pry them away.

“You’re blushing! Look at you!”

“Shut up, Parker. I am not blushing. If anything, you should be taking notes?”

“Notes?”

“Notes. You could learn a few things from him.”

“Like what?”

“For one thing, how to make a move.” Oh

“Trust me, something tells me I’m doing just fine in that department.” He can’t help but let his chest fill with pride. Flinching when you poke at his cheek. You’re on his bed, textbooks long forgotten as you converse about the previous weekends events. It’s been torture, debating whether or not to come clean. But anyone who knows, anyone Peter truly cares about would be at risk had he told them. It’s not fair to you, not when he cares so much it physically hurts. In that it literally pains him, not to pursue anything with you.

It’s infuriating, going against each and every one of his senses. Fighting the urge to just say fuck all and go for it with you. There have been times where he almost let his hormones get the best of him. Like Tuesday, you’d somehow confiscated his sweatshirt and worn it to class. You hadn’t even noticed the garment wasn’t yours. Unfortunately for Peter, you’d opted to sit next to him at lectures a couple weeks ago so he’d keep you focused. Which was aiding in your grades, sure, but that fucking sweatshirt. The sweatshirt that mixed your perfume with his cologne, antagonizing him for an entire 89 minutes and 24 seconds (not that he was counting.)

“You’re cocky, Parker.” Your response pulls him from his trance, a yawn escaping your mouth as you speak. He tries not to stare too long when the action glosses your eyes, fluttering slowly in attempt to prohibit sleep.

“I propose a nap.” You nod at his words, body extending with slight tremble as you stretch, curling into his warmth with a steady exhale. Breath raising each and every hair on his skin. He’s itching to rest his arm over you, ensure your proximity is not just temporary.

“You okay?” His heavy kids flutter open at your words, narrowing with confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You hesitate, mulling over your works before you pronounce them. Pulling his comforter farther up both your bodies. “You’ve been off lately, like you’re holding something in.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re just…I don’t know. Did you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t have anything to talk about.” He corrects, not unkind. The lie singing his tongue as it leaves his mouth. He wants to tell you, always failing to find the right time, the right reasons. Held back in the knowledge it would only make you a target. He can’t fathom it, putting you in danger like that. But he’s reminded of the other night, how there was little he could do from shelter you from any and all potential danger. The thought makes his head spin and his gut turn.

“Hypothetically, if there were something you needed to talk about. I’d hope you know you can always tell me. No matter what.”

“Promise?”

“Of course Peter.” You study his serious expression, sleep lulling at your body as you offer a soft smile. Giving his forearm a small squeeze before succumbing to the exhaustion.

🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷🕷

“What the fuck, Peter?”

“I can-”

“I mean seriously, what the fuck?”

“I meant to tell you! I never wanted you to find out this way.” He cringes at your exasperated scoff, blue and red mask clutched in your grasp as you stand on the other side of your bedroom opposite him.

“And when was that gonna be? Weeks, months, years from now?”

“No! No, I don’t know. I thought it’d be better you didn’t know.”

“Better I didn’t know? Peter, you’re fucking spider-man! Jesus Christ, you’re really him.” You practically collapse into your mattress, arm shooting out so he won’t approach your trembling form. “So, so that was you? That night in the alley?” Your voice cracks under the pressure of emotion, bloodshot eyes meeting his in disbelief.

He nods, head bowing in shame as he clenched his fists. Fighting the unbearable urge to hold you.

“I feel pretty fucking stupid.” You force a laugh, furiously wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? I mean, there you were. Some fucking latex separating us and I’m clueless. I mean something about him…You felt familiar but. Jesus Christ, I patched you up in my fucking living room and you just pretended to be some stranger? How could you sit there and lie to me like that? Hell, we sat at your house discussing the whole fucking fiasco as if I was filling in an unknowing friend!”

“I know, I’m sorry I-”

“Stop apologizing. Start explaining.” You’re standing again, shaky hands rubbing over your face as you let out a struggled breath.

“I just wanted to keep you safe.” He’s able to see you rub at your nose with a harsh chuckle despite his vision blurred with tears.

“Listen, I know I’m kind of hard to navigate. We’re in this weird crossroads between friends and-” You stop yourself, unsure of how much to admit. “Well fuck it, since we’re getting all the skeletons out of the closet you may as well know I Iike you, right? I just, I never wanted whatever might be going on between us would stop you from ever telling me something.”

“Y/n, please believe me. I have wanted to tell you ever since you were planting flowers with me for May’s garden. I’ve wanted to tell you everything. How much I love spending time with you, how much I wish we could be more, th other part of me I’ve had to keep a secret.”

“What’s stopped you? I mean, seriously Peter. What was the point of keeping all this from me? Not when I’ve let you in on so much.”

“I can’t lose you, alright?” He’s grown tense, overwhelmed with the conversation and the thought of jeopardizing your life because of his secret one. “I will not be able to handle that, you hear me? So yes, I was selfish. I was stupidly, wholeheartedly, undeniably selfish because if I risk losing you I simply will not be able to deal with it. You hear me?” He swipes at his eyes in a feeble attempt to disclose them.

“Pete-”

“No, I won’t do it. You hear me? I will not fucking do that. And it’s not fair. None of this was fair to you. I just, you were in that alley and I swear I could have fucking collapsed. Please, please try and understand how hard it was to keep this from you. I’m just sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you, and being too selfish to let you go because I needed you.” He presses his palms to his eyes, frustration and guilt tensing each and every one of his muscles.

“Parker.” You whisper, having closed the distance between you. Pulling at his elbows so he’ll uncover his glossy eyes. Unveiling the long lashes stuck together from his tears. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should. I can’t do this to you.”

“Why do you think that’s for you to decide? I make my own decisions. And I choose you, alright?” Spandex and all.” He huffs through his nose, shaking his head profusely. You’re stunned when he encases you in an embrace, pulling your frame as close as possible to his. Your body eventually catches on to your brain, arms wrapping around his neck to reciprocate.

He pulls away to study you, cheeks rosy from the warm tears as he stokes your brow, fingertips trailing down to your jaw and eventually your neck. “I’ve decided I don’t like making you cry.” He informs, the softest sign of a smile pulling at his lips when you hide your face in his shoulder. You face him again, eyes everting to his lips and back to his gaze as you exhale. Pushing your face mere inches closer to his. He holds your chin with two fingers, eyes squeezing shut and pink lips pressing together.

“I can’t. Cant kiss you like this. You’re crying.”

“So are you, Parker.” He smirks with a find roll of his eyes, only making the urge that much more unbearable.

“I don’t-”

“Peter,” you interrupt gently, “my choice too, right?”

“Right.”

It’s a little messy, skin wet with stray tears as you connect your lips to his. Eager to portray any unspoken emotion into the embrace. He pulls away first, pressing smaller kisses across your cheeks and then your nose, thumb rubbing just blow your ear as you both catch your breath.

“Should I tell Spider-Man you’re taken then?”

“Too soon, Parker. Too soon.”

#peter #peter parker #one shot

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oblwan · 8 months

Text

𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ~ 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟑𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲? 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It was your seventh year at Hogwarts, and the New Years ball was rapidly approaching. There was now one week until the ball, and anyone that didn’t have a date already was frantically asking anyone they could find. You, on the other hand, had rejected every person that asked you, deciding not to spoil your night with a random classmate that would expect a new year’s kiss from you.

The Marauders had placed their bets on which one of them would get a date first, and of course it was easy for James to ask Lily right away. He took the crown, followed by Sirius, who asked Marlene McKinnon. Peter took a while, but options became scarce as the ball got closer and girls became less picky with their choices. Remus was still without a date, but he knew that the rest of them would never leave him alone if he told them, so he lied instead. It was already bad enough that he ended up in last place, and he didn’t want to go without a date at all.

So, he told them that he had asked you, and that you said yes.

They didn't believe him, but he said that he was going to prove them wrong and that they’d just have to wait until the ball to see. That gave him enough time to actually muster up the courage to just ask you. Well, not really, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, it would be less embarrassing for him to actually ask you than to admit to them that he lied about it.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Hey, L/n, wait up!” Sirius’ voice echoed out to you in the empty hallway.

You were on your way to the library to work on a project with Remus. The two of you had known each other as acquaintances for quite some time, and you eventually became friends. You were paired together for a project so you occasionally spent time with him inside and outside of class. He was planning on bringing up the ball situation to you during your session at the library, but unfortunately for him, Sirius got to you first.

Sirius jogged to catch up with you, slowing to a walk beside you. “Remus said he asked you to the New Year’s ball. Is that true?”

You peered behind his shoulder, seeing Remus frantically speed-walking to the scene. Judging by the look on his face, you decided it would probably be best to just go along with whatever was going on at the moment.

“Yes, he did.” You stated, hugging your books close to your chest.

“And you said yes?” He questioned.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you rejected the entire school, so forgive me for being shocked.”

“He asked me, and I said yes. Can I go now? I have a project to work on.”

“It’s winter break. Why are you working on a project when you have time to relax?”

“It’s due shortly after the break is over. I’d rather do it gradually than cram it all into one night. Though I’m sure you’re the procrastinating type.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on then.” He crossed his arms, scowling.

You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and continuing on your way to the library. Remus followed quickly behind, ignoring Sirius’ taunting as he passed by.

You entered the quiet library, finding a seat in your usual corner and setting your books down. Remus sat in front of you, cheeks pink from embarrassment.

“What was that all about?” You inquired, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Well, you see, uh…” Remus spoke, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “We made a bet on who could get a date to the ball first, and I ended up losing, but I didn’t want them to know that I didn’t have a date at all, so I just lied. You were the first person that came to mind, considering that you’re the only person I spend time with other than them. I’m sorry, you don’t have to go with me, I’ll just have to come clean. Though I don’t know what's more embarrassing: having to lie about having a date or admitting that I lied about it.”

“I’ll go with you, Remus. I know you’ll never hear the end of it from them if you don’t go with me. Besides, you’re the only person that I wouldn’t mind going with.” You said, registering your own words a moment too late. “I just mean that you’re the only one that isn’t obnoxious, and I know you won’t ruin the night for me.”

“Right, of course. Well, if it’s really no trouble, then I’d love to go with you. And not just because they’d bully me if I didn’t.” Remus admitted, offering you a warm smile.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. You knew that you didn’t just accept his invitation to save him from torment: honestly, you’d love to go with him. Your idea of a dreadful New Year’s kiss with a stranger was quickly turning into a wish that Remus would kiss you at midnight.

You nodded, offering him a smile. “Alright. I suppose we should get to work.”

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It was New Year’s Eve, and it was time to make your way to the ball together. Remus waited outside of your common room, holding a bouquet of flowers and pacing back and forth nervously. You were feeling the same nervousness as him, butterflies swarming in your stomach as you gathered the courage to finally meet him in the hallway.

As you stepped out of your common room, Remus’ face lit up at the sight of you. He cleared his throat, offering you the flowers. “You look beautiful, Y/n. Positively radiant.”

“Thank you.” You grinned, accepting the flowers and putting them in your bottomless bag. “You look great too. I don’t understand why Sirius gets all of the attention in your group, you’re just as handsome, if not even more.”

He chuckled bashfully, offering you his arm. “I appreciate that, but don’t let him hear it. He’ll resent you for the rest of his life.”

“Got it. Don’t tell Sirius. Shall we go?” You took his arm, beginning to walk with him to the Great Hall.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You spent most of the night chatting about your lives and sharing punch with firewhiskey in it (courtesy of Sirius).

“So you weren’t lying when you said you were taking Y/n L/n as your date.” James quipped. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Why would I lie? Remus asked, shooting you a sly grin.

The clock was ticking close to midnight, and everyone gathered in the middle of the great hall awaiting the countdown.

“Are you ready, Y/n? It’s our last New Year’s ball at Hogwarts.” Remus asked, looking at you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I can’t believe we’re so close to graduation and I went all these years without a New Year’s kiss.”

Remus’ stomach fluttered at your words, though he hid it well. “We could always change that.”

Stunned at his words, you stared up at him, not even noticing the countdown beginning around you. You were snapped back to the present by the crowd roaring the last few numbers.

5…4…3…2…1…

Fireworks erupted above you as the students cheered and yelled out “Happy New Year!”. Students waved their sparklers in the air while others embraced each other.

Remus, however, didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you were fixated on him too. He glanced at your lips, as if asking for permission, and you instinctively nodded. Without further hesitation, he brought his hand behind your head, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

Time seemed to stop as he kissed you, and your hands settled on his back to hold him close. After a few moments, he pulled away, smiling down at you.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

#remus #remus lupin #one shot

283 notes · View notes

oblwan · 8 months

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i've been dreaming

↳ summary: read this drabble and pt. 1 first! remus deals with the repercussions of falling in love too late. ↳ content: angst, happy ending, mentions of eating/sleeping properly ↳ a/n: get comfy, this is a long one! i really appreciated and loved each comment from pt. 1, it made my day to see y'all scream heartbreak. would love to hear your thoughts on this one : D anyways, i went back and forth on my characterization of remus a million times, but i hope this version of him resonates and i hope you enjoy :") tense/grammar is all over the place, minimal proofreading but i've stared at this for too long. p.s. i'm kinda proud af about connecting the titles, they're from ivy by frank ocean.

Remus has been dreaming. Every time she had looked at him, he had felt like he was dreaming.

There wasn't a moment in particular that Remus could name when he realized he wanted her to look at him. He was in the middle of it before he even knew he had begun, though maybe a part of him had known it would have been futile to resist when she looked at him like that.

Or maybe it had been an accumulation of moments of Remus longing for her to look at him.

Maybe it had been when they had started their fourth study date together when Remus had decided he needed to act like a normal person and have strict boundaries instead of casting sidelong glances at her over the top of his book. He couldn't help but look at her as he tried to figure out why in the world a girl like her would ever agree to date him in the first place — he had only really asked so that he could be rejected and put the whole thing behind him.

But it wasn't his fault that the more glances he stole at her, the more he noticed the way her expression changed with each new story she read. It wasn't his fault that her lips parted when she was concentrating too hard on Ancient Runes. It wasn't his fault that her lips were the same color as his mother's tulips. But she never noticed when — or how — he looked at her, to his mingled relief and disappointment. It wasn't his fault at all, he reasoned — anyone would notice these things if they just looked at her properly. It baffled him a little how no one else seemed to have noticed this things about her yet.

It had been that day that Remus had decided he needed to start acting normal. He needed to learn how to control his eyes before he bore holes through her face. So he had focused on reviewing his Magical Theory textbook. Even though he had been rereading the same line for over five minutes. Even though he was so painfully aware that if he moved his leg out just slightly, his knees would knock against hers. Even though he could begin to feel her glancing up at him from across the table. When had he become so attuned to her gaze?

But he hadn't looked up, frustratingly going against every fiber in his body, because he needed to be normal and have boundaries and this was temporary. Even if she was looking at him like that. Remus Lupin, with his ever so strong willpower, hadn't looked up to meet her not-so-secret secret glances and had scribbled a note on his scrap of parchment and slid it over.

Hogsmeade this weekend?

Or maybe it had been when they had gone to Hogsmeade, the first time they had done anything together outside of studying. Asking her to go was a stroke of madness, but Remus had reasoned it to be a healthy show of their relationship, no matter how temporary it was supposed to be. It wouldn't make sense if they were dating and only ever studied together, right?

Right.

He had thought about sending an owl to cancel, even as he tried on Sirius's shirt for the second time — the night before, he had come to the sobering realization that all his clothes were plain. He had thought about telling her that he caught a cold, even as he let James slather Euphemia's silkifying potions through his hair. He had still been thinking about canceling even as his feet took him to the entrance gate—

—and she had been wearing a skirt.

It had been one of those long and flowy Muggle skirts — Remus had never before paid attention to women's fashion, but after that moment, he realized that maybe he ought to subscribe to one of Lily's Witch Weekly magazines so that he could get her more skirts, or rather, more of anything, he thought she'd look pretty in anything. Had he said pretty out loud?

Remus Lupin didn't have butterflies in his stomach, he had damn hummingbirds.

"Hi," he had said, a little too tersely and sharply.

"Hi," she had said back, all smiles. Despairingly, he had noticed that she was wearing lipstick. When he stared at her a little dumbly and didn't say anything back, her smile turned nervous as she fidgeted with the collar of her blouse. Impulsively, his eyes darted to follow the motion. "So... Hogsmeade?"

He wasn't going to tell her she looked pretty because he had laid out his boundaries. And if he started, he would never stop— "You look preautiful," he had blurted, stricken.

Her eyes had widened a fraction before she broke into a laugh. A proper laugh, not the quiet, library huff type of laughs he had grown fond of hearing. The warmth in his chest had spread all over and it had felt like it got to his head as a fog, rendering him unable to think. Remus had no idea what to do with the new, dizzying knowledge that she looked absurdly stunning when she was laughing, but all he could think about during their walk to Hogsmeade was how he might make her laugh again.

Or maybe it had been the first time he had properly introduced her to the Marauders. She had stepped closer to him instinctively — perhaps nervously, because Sirius was staring at her too appraisingly with narrowed eyes — when the back of her knuckles had brushed against his. Remus had nearly jumped out of his skin. Sirius's gaze had darted to him swiftly, his gray eyes knowingly bright with interest.

"Pleased to meet you," Sirius had said a moment later, his face breaking into a warm smile, but Remus wasn't paying attention anymore. He was just trying to figure out how he might hook his pinky with hers.

All this to say that there hadn't been one particular moment Remus Lupin could have pinpointed that had sealed his fate of wanting to be under her gaze.

The first time she looked at him, it was the start of nothing and when she looked away that night, it was the end of everything.

Remus wished she yelled at him. Hell, he even wished she had called him a monster, cursed him, hexed him. Remus thought that he would have been happier if she looked at him with contempt and disgust in her eyes, which only weeks ago had been his greatest fear when he considered telling her about his lycanthropy. The thought back then had kept him up at night, but Remus found himself dreaming for it now. Anything if it meant that he didn't hurt her the way he had. He found himself dreaming that she would just look at him again.

If Remus thought he had been panicked that night, it was nothing compared to the next day when he realized she was avoiding him. She hadn't shown up to the Great Hall — Remus knew this because he got there the moment the doors opened to make sure to catch her — and she didn't show up to any of their classes for the remainder of the day. The Marauder's Map showed that she was unmoving in her dormitory. When Remus finally did catch sight of her the next day in the Great Hall, he burst to his feet but froze a moment later. She walked past him, her expression one of unfamiliar blankness.

"Y/N!" He called, lurching forward towards her.

When she turned away from him to avoid meeting his gaze, Remus felt something like dismay sink so heavily and swiftly in his chest, like a stone thrown into a calm lake. The idea that Y/N wouldn’t look at him again drove him half-mad with a panicked disquietude that sent him scrambling to find a way to talk to her again.

He tried in the Great Hall, but she stopped coming. She would arrive just late enough that class would start and would disappear the moment class ended. She stopped going to the library. Even with the Marauder's Map, he had no luck. The closer he tried to get to her, the further she stayed away.

Remus thought he was dreaming when he saw her alone in the corridor one Hogsmeade weekend when he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"Y/N," he said instinctively, hopefully. She looked up, her surprised expression immediately shuttering close. "Can we talk? Just for a moment?" He asked, stepping towards her. When she didn't move away, he straightened, encouraged.

“I know,” Remus began, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back the jolt of despair when he realized that she still wasn't looking at him. The despair only grew into a gnawing worry when he noticed the way shadows lined her eyes, the planes of her face hollower. Was she taking care of herself? "I know you don't want to see me anymore, cariad, but—"

"You don't get to call me that anymore."

He sucked in a breath, steeling himself before continuing. "Okay," he whispered, "Okay. I know. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I've never been more sorry in my life. And I won't ever ask you to forgive me. But, but I'm selfish because I want you to know that it was real for me."

She looked like she was folding in on herself as she clutched her forearms. "It wasn't real. You don't actually like me, Rem— Lupin," she said evenly, her tone neither cold nor warm. "It could have been anyone else."

"No, I do, I do," Remus lurched forward, desperate and earnest and wishing. "I like you, and maybe it wasn't real in the beginning, but it's real now. Like isn't even a strong enough word for how I feel about you, Y/N. I lo—"

"Don't." At the harsh steeliness of her tone, Remus froze, stricken, his heart dropping to his feet. "Don't say it."

"But it's true," he whispered entreatingly, imploring her to look at him again. "It's been true for awhile now."

"I don't believe you."

Each word hit him in the chest like a sharp pang, the stricken feeling in his chest clenching around his heart. "Okay," Remus swallowed back the crumpling sense of despair as he nodded earnestly. "That's okay," he whispered, as if not to spook a wild animal. "I... I'll show you." He had so much he wanted to say, so much that he wanted to show her. If he had been honest since the beginning, he wouldn't have hurt her. But maybe if he was honest now, it wasn't too late — he could still fix things. "You have my heart, Y/N," he continued softly, "—and you can break it, if you want, if you'll give me another chance—"

"I don't need it," she said quietly, looking away from him again. "Nor do I want it."

— — — — —

Remus stopped dreaming as he stopped sleeping.

"You should get some sleep tonight, mate," James said as he edged near his friend. "Full moon coming up."

Remus grunted in his response as he continued writing at his desk.

"Prongs is right," Sirius agreed, exchanging a quick look with the others. "She'll come around soon, anyone with eyes can see how you look at her. And how she looks at you."

"Why don't you talk to her again?" James suggested gently as he sat on the edge of Remus's bed.

"She doesn't want to," Remus said quietly, a blot of ink pooling at the end of his quill as he tried not to think about their last conversation.

"Why not write her a letter then?" Sirius asked. "Look, Moony, we're worried about you..."

A letter, Remus thought dimly as he stared down at the parchment in front of him.

Cariad, he began before setting his quill down to stare at the word. The first time he had called her cariad had been a slip of tongue. When he was younger, before his father had burnt himself out trying to find a cure to his lycanthropy, his father used to call his mother cariad. It was like a gentle period at the end of each sentence, an endearment that said everything all at once.

It had slipped into the end of his sentence one morning when he had asked her if she wanted orange juice or apple juice. Maybe it was too early to confess love, but it had slipped out, subtle and quiet like their time together.

"What's that?" She had asked, her attention now caught. "Car-iad," she said slowly, as she tried pronouncing the word carefully. Remus had thought he could have kissed her then.

"It's Welsh," he had said, keeping his tone light and casual as he reached for her cup.

But she had been as attentive as ever, her eyes seeing right through him as they tracked across his face carefully. It didn't help that he could feel his ears begin to burn. Despite himself though, Remus delighted being under her attention, and had relished it even as she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "For?"

Remus had schooled his expression carefully. "For 'Y/N can never pick between orange juice and apple juice,'" he had deadpanned, inwardly delighting in the way her lips twitched as she huffed, unconvinced.

"Today is an orange juice day," she had declared finally. Remus had bit back a smile as he poured her juice. When she took it, she had smiled at him around the rim of the cup. "Thank you, cariad."

Remus had thought that he was dreaming.

Remus picked up his quill again and got a fresh sheet of parchment. Dove, he began again before promptly crossing it out. A new piece of parchment. Y/N, he started again. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. He missed saying her name. When the squeeze in his chest got too tight to ignore, he set his quill down and rested his forehead against his desk and closed his eyes. He had hurt her so terribly, the person he loved. And Remus resented himself for it. He didn't have the right to call her cariad or dove or darling or anything anymore. He didn't have the right to wallow in pity. He didn't have the right to try to fix things when she so clearly didn't want him anymore.

"Remus Lupin," a voice snapped sharply as the door to the dormitory flew open with a boom. "How could you—"

“Lily!” James blurted in clear alarm. "Lily, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here because you lot have really gone too far this time," Lily seethed, her eyes as fiery as her hair as she stalked into the room. "Remus, I thought you were better than this! Y/N hasn't—"

"Lily!" James jumped to his feet in a rare show of courage against the witch. He let out a nervous laugh, but to his credit, stood firm even as Lily rounded on him. “You’re making him feel worse!”

For a moment, Lily turned on James, an incredulous expression on her face before her gaze slid over to Remus, who still hadn’t looked up during the exchange. She faltered, her scowl softening as her gaze darted back to James who gave her an encouraging nod. But then the fiery-haired girl straightened. “He should feel bad,” she admonished, though the venom had begun to dissipate from her voice.

“And he does,” Sirius supplied helpfully from his corner of the room. “Moony hasn’t really, er, moved or spoken in days, really. We’re all getting concerned.”

"Well neither has Y/N," Lily grumbled, though her tone was beginning to soften rapidly.

This caught his attention. Remus lifted his head to look at her. "Has she been taking care of herself?"

Lily narrowed her eyes at him, a crease forming between her brow as she looked at him assessingly. "Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Remus didn't say anything to this as he turned to rummage through his desk. "Will you make sure she eats and sleeps properly?" He said before finding the stack of parchment he had been looking for.

"It took me nearly an hour to get her to understand that I wasn't a part of the mess you had created," Lily said, though not harshly. Remus ignored the look of pity in her eyes as he busied himself with cobbling together a few more sheets of parchment. "I think you should be the one making sure she's alright."

At this, he paused to look down at the parchment. “She doesn’t want to be in the same room as me, let alone speak with me,” Remus pointed out, his voice unsteady. In a quieter voice, he added, “She can’t even stand looking at me.”

The room fell silent. Then finally, Lily spoke up again. "Fine. I'll check up on her but not for you, but because I'm her friend. And if you ever considered her at least a friend, you ought to do it too sometime and have a proper conversation with her."

Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he turned to proffer the stack of parchment to Lily. "Can you also give these notes to her? It's for Ancient Runes. I charmed the handwriting so she won't know it's from me, but—"

"Remus," Lily sighed, but took the notes anyways as she looked down at his desk curiously before sitting down on the edge of his bed. A pause. Remus could feel her eyes seeing right through him. "Were you ever going to tell her?"

Remus tried not to look like he was unraveling. "I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I wanted to and I didn't want to all at once all the time."

He had thought about telling her before. But to do so meant that he would have to tell her about his condition, and that had sent him into a stricken spiral every time he had thought about it. He had thought that if he told her, she would look at him differently, with pity or repulsion in her eyes. He had been so afraid, so, terrified, of that look that every time the truth nearly bubbled out of his throat, he'd choke on it. But now Remus knew that the worse thing wasn't that she would look at him like he was a monster. It was that she wouldn't look at him at all.

It had always felt like he was running on stolen time, but each grain of sand in their hourglass had felt so startling incandescent that it had been easy to pretend that they weren't trapped in a fragile glass of his own making.

Every moment he had thought to tell her, she would turn and look at him with such fond adoration that Remus would swallow the words back in. She always made for such an arresting sight that Remus felt his breath still as affection would bloom so violently, so dizzingly, so distractingly, in his chest that it became hard to say anything at all.

He was distracted by the way little crinkles would form on her nose when she was thinking too hard. He was distracted by the way he could hear her smile in her words. He was distracted by the way she breathed and walked and loved, slow and steady, to a silent metronome.

And the honest truth was that Remus was more than happy to be distracted by her.

— — — — —

When Remus woke up from a dreamless sleep the morning after the full moon, he found himself, predictably, in a bed in the Infirmary. It must have only been dawn — he could tell the room was still dim behind his eyelids as he did his mental check of his limbs. No new scars please, he thought wryly once he confirmed all his limbs were in place, albeit sore and strained. Remus sighed. Then came the more dreaded question.

"Did anyone get hurt?" He asked, his voice hoarse from his transformation.

He expected one of the boys to respond, but when no response came, his eyes flew open in a panic. They normally stayed the night in the Infirmary to get their checkup from Madam Pomfrey — Remus knew they were just there to keep him company, though they always deflected when he tried to usher them back to the dorms — and they were normally the first to assure him that no one had gotten hurt. Alarmed, Remus sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed hastily to look around, his joints groaning in protest.

"Are you hurt?" A voice next to him asked.

He was dreaming again.

Y/N was sitting in a chair next to his bed, alarm quickly breaking through the remnants of the sleepiness that clung onto her eyes as she scanned him hastily as if to ensure he was still in one piece. There was an imprint of his blanket on her cheek. Remus's fingers twitched to rub it when she spoke up again. "Should I call Madam Pomfrey?"

So it wasn't a dream.

At the sobering realization, Remus shook his head hastily. "No, I, uh, I'm fine," he said, the words faltering on his lips. Suddenly he felt very seen. He had never wanted her to see him after a transformation, especially not then, when he was all fresh scars and worn bones. He felt like a shell of himself. "What are you doing here?" He asked quietly, fixing his gaze on his hands and noticing a new scar across the back of his hand, still red and shallow. He couldn't quite look at her now as shame and mortification flooded his system.

For the first time in his life, he wished she wasn't looking at him.

"You guys normally come back earlier on full moons," she said, still looking at him. "I was worried that..." She fell silent. So she had even known their schedule, he despaired.

"I see," Remus said tightly, feeling drained.

When he didn't say anything else, she spoke up again tentatively. "Sirius told me to tell you that no one got hurt—"

Chagrin and shame roiled in his stomach as he stared at the new scar on his hand. "You can go back now," he interrupted, grasping the blanket tightly. He wished she wasn't looking at him, he wished that he didn't have a new scar, he wished that the floor would just open up and swallow him whole.

He wished this was all just a bad dream.

"I'll go if you want me to go," she said quietly. Remus couldn't tell what expression she was making because he couldn't bare to look at her. Pity, fear, disgust. He was sure he'd never recover if she was looking at him like that— "But I... I don't want to go."

His gaze darted from his hands to her face. She was biting on the inside of her cheek, her eyes wide and imploring and distracting. Slowly, it became easy to breathe again. The imprint of the blanket was fading from her cheek. Remus still wanted to rub it off.

"Okay," he acquiesced, the word coming out as a soft breath. She relaxed back into the chair. "I never wanted you to see me like this," he murmured quietly, feeling all too cracked open under her gaze.

"Remus," she began, also whispering as if not to break the fragile peace between them. His heart stuttered dangerously at the sound of his name from her lips, but he shouldered forward, adamant to not let himself start dreaming again.

"Have you... been well?" Remus asked, first as a deflection before he took in the shadows on her face. It was like once he started, he couldn't stop. "Have you been eating properly and sleeping enough—"

"Remus," she said again, this time more urgently and softly. "I got your letters."

Remus paused, his dry throat clicking as he swallowed. "So you knew the notes were from me," he murmured, rubbing at the base of his neck. "Sorry, I thought they would help, but I'll stop if you're uncomfortable—"

"No, I mean, I got your letters," she said, reaching into her book bag.

To his horror, she pulled out a stack of parchment. Some of them had were heavily creased from being balled up, but someone had carefully straightened them and piled them up. "You weren't supposed to see those," he blurted, mortified now. "I threw those away."

"I know," she said, her gaze fixed on the letters. They weren't really letters at all — he had never been able to get past how to address her. He could catch glimpses of his chicken scratch handwriting. Y/N. Dove. My sweet girl. Cariad. My love. Cariad. Cariad. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. "Lily gave them to me. She also gave me this—" Carefully, Y/N pulled another familiar piece of parchment from her bag. This one was filled and messy with different colored inks across time.

Remus's mouth went dry. He didn't need to look at it to know what it was because he had it memorized.

Ketchup and pepper with eggs (prefers sunny-side up)

Three younger brothers

Likes mum's knitted sweater the most -> owl mum how she did it??

No favorite color, but it's probably green and yellow??

Needs a midday nap most days

Likes long skirts (or is it because I complimented it?)

Y/N is Sisyphus and the question of orange juice or apple juice is the rock

Peonies

Chocolate frogs (non-jumping)

Always needs hair ties -> ask Lily if Hogsmeade has any

Tea = 3 sugars, lots of milk (prefers juice though)

Give notes for Ancient Runes

Find out if there are hair tying charms

Jane Austen

Christmas ideas: skirts, cat, necklace, journal, hair ties

"You weren't supposed to see that," he said again dumbly.

"I know," she said again. A pause. "I believe you."

Remus's head snapped up to see that she was looking at him. He was dreaming again. He shook himself out of it. "No, you don't have to," he said hastily.

"No, Remus, I believe you that it was real," she said, her words choppy as she wrung her hands together. He wanted to reach out and cover her hand with his but instead he sat perfectly still. "But I— But I was so hurt by you," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry," he said with every fiber of his being. "I was afraid and selfish and I hurt you and there's no forgiving that."

"But Remus," she said, looking up at him finally. "I've missed you. I miss you so much and I don't know what to do—" Her voice cracked. Remus felt like something in him cracked open again.

"Oh, cariad," he breathed. "Can I—" He faltered, but miraculously, she picked up on what he meant. Wordlessly, she surged into his arms and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe again. "I'm so sorry, my sweet girl," he murmured into her hair as he breathed in her familiar scent. "If... if you'll have me again, can we start over?"

"Only if it's for real this time," she mumbled into his shoulder with a dry huff of a laugh as she clutched him back. God, he missed her laugh.

He pressed a kiss against her temple, the first of many. "It's real. Very real."

Remus prayed he wasn't dreaming anymore.

— — — — —

a/n: thanks for reading :^) would love to hear thoughts! my masterlist here

#remus #remus lupin #mini series #completed #fake dating

1K notes · View notes

oblwan · 8 months

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I'm Not In Love || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! the heartbreak you've all been waiting for! i'm sorry if this is bad, but i didn't want a happy ending just yet. feedback is welcomed and appreciated! here's part one and the moodboard word count: 3.8k warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, swearing, descriptions of a panic attack, angst!!!!!!, reader is kind of an asshole, miscommunication, quickly edited

“I really don’t want to go,” you told Lily, hands on your cheeks as you rested your elbows on your kitchen island. “It’s actually like… the last thing I want to do with my time.”

“Please,” Lily begged from the other side of the counter, causing you to groan. “The whole Remus thing was a misunderstanding. He’s been very busy, but I know that he really wants to call you.”

Your head hit the table with a dull thud.

Busy? Remus hadn’t called you even though you gave him your number at Lily’s wedding a month ago. You genuinely thought he was interested, just as you were, and still are, but after the first month of dead silence, you got the message loud and clear. “Busy” wasn’t a very good excuse anymore. As far as you were concerned, he wanted nothing to do with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why as you tried to forget about him.

Despite how many times James and Lily came to your flat or you went to their new one in that short time, Remus was rarely mentioned until now. Hell, you had seen more of Sirius than you had of him, and now two months after the wedding and a week before Sirius’s birthday, Lily hasn’t shut up about him.

“I’m not worried about the Remus thing,” you lied as you raised your head off the table, rubbing your forehead. “I’m worried about the wizard bar thing.”

That part wasn’t a lie. If a wizard wedding made you feel as self-conscious as ever, you couldn’t even imagine what a wizard bar would be like. They had different drinks with different effects, and you didn’t want to make an ass of yourself in front of someone who made you comfortable at said wedding then rejected you. You just wanted to fit in with a group of wizards, and you were already spiraling because of Remus’ apparent rejection. You had been rejected by other men before, sure, and while it hurt, this blow from Remus really threw you for a loop, causing a sour ache to start in the bottom of your chest whenever you thought about him. That meant the ache never really went away, but it lessened when you were busy with work or studying. You didn’t know if you could handle not being accepted by a whole friend group.

“It’s not at a wizard bar,” Lily huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you at least twenty times that it’s at the pub right down the road from your complex.”

“Oh, weird,” you said, definitely remembering, but you scrunch your nose anyway, pretending to rack your brain. “I would’ve remembered that, but it’s like… I don’t want to go or something.”

“You’re insufferable.” Lily met your glare with one of her own. “You know I could just lead Remus to your flat, right?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you challenged, and Lily only smiled. “Lils, please. The wedding was with him was fine, but if he liked me, he would’ve called-”

“Remus wouldn’t just call,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s much more romantic than that.”

“Well, I sure haven’t seen any of it, have I?” You grumbled back. “I’m not going.”

Lily went back to whining, a pout replacing her scowl. “Come on. Sirius would love-”

You began to lie, “I don’t know Sirius-”

“Just show up!” She snapped, raising her eyebrows. “Say it was a coincidence.” You groaned, and Lily grabbed your hands. “I’ll buy you as many vodka crans as you can drink, and you can hang out with the girls and I.”

“Lily-”

“Please,” she said, squeezing your hands. Lily looked so hopeful, her green eyes full of optimism. She knew it would break your heart to say no as she batted her lashes. “Please.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, and Lily squealed, rounding the island to pull your head into her chest in a squishy hug. You threw your arms around her to stabilize yourself on the stool, but she took it as a sign to squeeze harder, rocking you from side to side. “You’re a fucking menace.”

“I promise you it’s going to be so fun!” She cooed, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to the crown of your head before she gasped. “We have to pick you out an outfit!”

The next week was filled with near mental anguish. While you mentally prepared to see Remus again, you fully convinced yourself that he rejected you. He rejected you.

Could it be because you weren’t pretty enough? Or maybe you weren’t interesting enough. You had a sinking feeling it was because you weren’t like him. You couldn’t do anything he could do, and, in fact, you had to work much harder for things than he did. That’s fine, you reminded yourself.

You had to make yourself okay with this. You constantly told yourself that it was okay that he didn’t like you even though he was all you ever thought about. It’s not as though you knew each other. You had met once, you kept telling yourself. It wasn’t that deep. It was just a fun little crush that you had at a wedding. You weren’t in love. It’s fine.

You told yourself that he wasn’t busy. Remus just didn’t want you. That’s why he didn’t call. You weren’t enough for him, and you just had to accept that fact before you had to face him again to avoid any of the awkwardness.

It was going to have to be fine. You were going to have to act like everything was fine.

You arrived late to the party on purpose, busy pacing your flat and preening yourself in every mirror you passed. Nervousness made its home in your belly, anchoring itself by winding its way through your muscles and nerves. You could feel yourself flush scarlet as you doused yourself in perfume for the last time before you absolutely had to go.

You left your complex at a quarter to ten even though Lily told you to be there at nine sharp. Your heeled boots that Lily made you wear clicked on the pavement as you walked as slow as possible to the pub. Catching the reflection of yourself as you passed a darkened store front, you sighed.

You had on a black leather blazer, covering the sheer black tights, a black mini-skirt, and the white, lacy blouse you were wearing. You curled your hair, per Lily’s request, and darkened your lips with a wine-colored lipstick, matching it with a basic, brown eye. She said you were going to look “so in.”

You leaned toward the window, fixing your earring in the glass as you contemplated going home.

“Say it was a coincidence!” Lily’s words rang in your head as you fixed your other earring.

“A coincidence,” you mumbled to yourself. “A funny coincidence.”

You stepped away from the window, huffing to yourself as you set off toward the pub again, spotting it on the next street corner. Rehearsing what you’d say to everyone quietly to yourself, you finally reached the pub door.

Throwing your head back, praying a silent prayer, you entered the busy pub, bee-lining to the bar as if you weren’t expecting to see anyone that you knew. Taking a seat, you ordered a manhattan, scooching yourself closer to the bar.

In all reality, you spotted them right away, the girls were in the small crowd in front of the DJ and the boys, dressed as posh as ever, were around a small table, talking loudly. You knew Lily spotted you too, but you didn’t want to find out who else saw you, or even worse, who she told.

Your drink came with a grin from the bartender as you slipped off your coat, placing it underneath you. You silently thanked him then fished out the cherry at the bottom of the glass, popping it in your mouth and sucking it dry from the whiskey that it had absorbed.

You picked up the glass then turned around on your stool, scanning the crowd.

“... a coincidence!” Lily’s words echoed again.

You knew that at least Lily knew you were here, so there was no point in blatantly avoiding them. But what would you say? Your pre-planned conversation was gone. The nervousness wound its way up to your throat, forming a lump.

You took a sip of your cocktail as soon as you caught Lily staring at you from the dance floor. She turned around quickly, said something to Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas then walked away from them, a determined scowl on her face as she approached you.

“You’re late!” She hissed, pulling you into a hug. She reeked of vodka, her sour breath wafting into your face as she spoke again. “I said nine, and it’s ten!”

“I was nervous,” you mumbled, holding your drink out so that you could take the rest of it behind her back. “Sorry,” you said after you swallowed thickly.

Lily pulled away from you, her face still in a scowl. “I told you not to be!” She huffed, glancing over her shoulder. “The girls saw you as soon as you came in. You better put a smile on your face because they’re-” Lily’s whole demeanor changed as Mary’s hand met her shoulder. She smiled artificially, her lips pulling up to expose her teeth. “Look who I found!”

You sent your empty glass on the bar, mouth opening with faux surprise. “Oh my God!” You said, smiling widely. “I had no idea that you guys were going to be here!”

You hopped down from your stool, pulling each girl into a tight hug, squeezing them as long as necessary for them to believe that you were actually shocked.

“I was just coming to get a drink!” You gushed, glancing at Lily. “This is such a funny coincidence!”

“Come on, darlin’!” Marlene said, grabbing your coat and your hand. She beamed at Dorcas and Mary. “We haveta go show the boys who we found!”

“We really don’t-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you another drink,” Lily said, smiling sweetly. You could see right through it, knowing she was still slightly mad at you. “Vodka cran, right, love?”

You grit your teeth into a smile. “Right. Thanks, Lils.”

Marlene giggled as she pulled you toward the boys, Dorcas and Mary lagging behind. “Mary thinks she’s gonna hook up wit’ Sirius tonight,” she gushed in your ear drunkenly. “‘S never gonna happen, but poor Mary sure thinks so.” She snorted, now walking way too far ahead of you, dragging you along.

You looked at the group of boys she was pulling you toward, all of them engrossed in a conversation except for the one you were actually trying to avoid.

From your quick glance, you could tell Remus’ cheeks were flushed, and you didn’t want to know if it was because the heat seemed to have turned up about ten degrees since you had locked eyes, or if he was drunk. You decided it was the latter in an attempt to make yourself feel better, ignoring the acid that burned your chest.

“Look who ickle Lils found sittin’ at the bar all by her lonesome,” Marlene slurred as soon as you walked up to the boys.

You felt your mouth pull into a smile despite the hammering in your ears. “Hi,” you said, feeling your arm wave a small wave.

You felt as though you were having an out of body experience as James pulled you into a sweaty, beer-soaked hug, squeezing you, and passing you along to Sirius, who kissed your cheek with wet lips.

“Happy birthday,” you mumbled as he pulled you into a hug, swearing he was sweating Jose Cuervo.

“I told you she was going to come!” Sirius ranted from behind your back. “Pretty girl can’t get enough of me!” He let go, his arm around your shoulder.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” you said, shrugging as he kissed your cheek once more.

“Someone’s more than excited to see you, doll,” he said near your ear, gently nudging you toward Remus.

You took your first real look at him. Remus hadn’t changed much except for the fact that he wasn’t leaning on a cane, and he had gotten his haircut, getting rid of the sun-bleached strands and leaving muddy brown in its place. You could tell he had been drinking by the way the sleeves on his white button-down were rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone. You could see the outline of a box of cigarettes in the pocket of his black slacks.

He looked good. You could feel your face burn, trying to rub it away and playing it off like there was a fly buzzing around your head.

“Hiya,” you said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible as you pulled him into a one-armed hug around his middle.

He sniffed, moving his drink to his other hand as he squeezed your shoulder, mumbling, “Yeah, hi.”

The two of you separated almost instantly. Peter nodded a hello to you while James and Sirius exchanged looks. Marlene had turned around, loudly shouting at Mary and Dorcas who were on their way over.

Your gaze snapped to the ground as you swallowed thickly. The pep talk you gave yourself didn’t help at all.

“I’m going to head to the loo quick,” you said, glancing at James and Sirius. “I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could protest or tell you that they were coming with you, you shot off toward the bathroom, trying not to break out into a full sprint.

You pushed the bathroom door open, entering a dingy stall and locking it behind yourself.

Sitting down on the surprisingly clean toilet, you let your head hit your hands with your elbows firmly planted on your knees.

“You’re fine,” you mumbled, sucking a breath into your reluctant lungs, pushing it out as you mumbled. “It’s fine.”

You recognized the panic as soon as you saw Remus in all of his glory. You pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to stop the inevitable tears. Breathing started to seem hard as you sucked another unwilling breath into your lungs.

Your week of talking yourself up hadn’t worked. It wasn’t just a crush. Love at first, or second, sight was real, and unfortunately, you seemed to be experiencing it.

Your hands started to shake as you took in another breath. Standing, you opened the stall door, walking out to grip the sink and stare at yourself.

You looked fine albeit for the single tear that you swiped from your cheek, so why didn’t you feel fine.

“I’m fine. I'm having fun,” you told yourself quietly. “Just get a drink, a-and act normal. I’m not in love. I’m fine, and I’m here to have fun.”

I’m not in love. The bile rose in your throat as you thought that phrase over again. I’m not in love.

You cupped your hands under the faucet, taking a scoop of tap water into your mouth.

Just then, Lily peeked in, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“The lads say you ran off,” she said, clutching your elbow. “Are you alright?”

“This wasn’t a good idea,” you muttered to Lily, shutting off the water. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“What?” Her eyebrows pinched together. “Is this about Remus?” You reluctantly nodded. “You’re fine, okay? He’s just awkward.”

“He wasn’t awkward at your wedding,” you mumbled.

“That’s news to me,” Lily scoffed. “You’re just overthinking.”

“I just really want to go-”

“Come on, you big worry wart,” Lily said, tucking you into her side. “Let’s go see the girls. They’re talking about Mary getting into Sirius’ pants.”

“Lily, please-”

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” she said, patting your shoulder.

“Lils-”

Despite your protest, Lily guided you out of the bathroom and over to the girls at the bar.

“-just so dreamy, right?” Mary cooed, her longing look thrown at Sirius. Lily snorted as Marlene scoffed.

“He’s not into you!” Dorcas groaned, her arm around Marlene’s waist. “He’s not going home with anyone, and I think you’d know that by now!”

“But I could convince him, right?” Mary asked redundantly, glancing at you. “Right?”

You shrugged. “I know nothing.”

Mary whined. “Oh, you’re no help.”

“If he wanted to shag ya, he woulda done it by now,” Marlene slurred, lightly punching Mary’s shoulder. “I would know.”

“Oh, shut up!” Mary huffed, punching her friend back. “That was five years ago-”

“Hey,” Remus said, approaching from behind you with a tight smile. The quiet chorus of girlish hellos answered him. He stopped next to you, specifically looking just at you. “Hi. Alright?”

You met his gaze and nodded quietly, “Yeah.”

The girls continued talking, ignoring his interruption. You tried to listen back to what they were saying, but Remus’ hand met your bicep in a gentle squeeze, pulling you away slightly.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked, lips close to your ear.

Your eyes met Lily’s for a fleeting second, a look of help me flashing in yours as Lily lightly shook her head.

“S-sure,” you mumbled, pulling away from him. You took a step away from the group, waiting for his explanation.

“We’re uh- we’re just going to go have a ciggy quick. Cheers ladies,” he said, and he grabbed your clammy hand, pulling you out of the pub.

You could just walk away. You could completely ignore him and just walk home. You wanted to, but your feet wouldn’t let you, planting you near the wall next to him.

Remus dropped your hand then lit his cigarette, leaning against the wall and blowing out smoke. He glanced at you, then looked down, obviously contemplating what he was going to say. “I- I’m sorry about um… About not calling you? I lost your number, and-”

You nodded, hardly hearing him over your heart pounding in your ears, puffing a small laugh through your nose. “I’ve never heard that one before-”

“It’s not like that,” Remus huffed over you.

You chuckled, feeling the panic in your chest crescendo as you removed yourself from the wall to pace in front of him, “I’ve been rejected before, Remus. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I never rejected-”

“It’s fine, okay?! It’s fine!” You laughed to yourself, your fingers meeting your temple with a dull rub as you stopped pacing. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to fucking come,” you muttered, turning toward the pub door.

“You didn’t want to come because- because of me?” Remus guawaffed, his eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t reject you!”

“No, it’s fine.” Your fingertips met the bridge of your nose as you paused, trying to make yourself not cry. You huffed softly, facing him again. “Look, okay? I’m stupid, and I shouldn’t have ever given you my number, alright? Just forget about it, alright? It’s fine. I-I should’ve known that something like… like this-” you gestured between the two of you, your voice shaking. “-would never work.”

“Like what?” Remus’ cigarette was abandoned, the coal working its way slowly toward the filter.

“I like you,” you admitted, still looking at him. “A-and I know that sounds stupid because love at first sight is fucking- fucking fairytale shit, but I thought that maybe you thought the same things that I thought about you and that maybe it would work, but-”

“What do you mean?! I like you, I just lost-” He started, trying to take your hand in his.

The panic quickly turned to anger as you ripped your hand away from him.

“Look at us, Remus! We’d be wasting our precious time!” you shouted harshly over him, your hand flying in the air. “You’re a bloody wizard!” you hissed at him. “And I’m not! I-I… I can’t do any of the things that you can do.”

“That doesn’t matter-”

“But it does, and that’s why I’m saying to forget about the whole fucking thing, okay?” You turned away from him, walking back toward the pub door. “Just forget about it.”

“I like you!” He raised his voice, catching your shoulder. “I don’t want to just forget!”

You whipped around to face him, pushing his hand off your shoulder. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad for me,” you said, your teeth ground together.

Remus huffed. “I lost your number.” He enunciated every word, his jaw clenched. “I already told you that.”

“You could’ve gotten it from Lily,” You countered loudly, gesturing toward the building where you knew she was still having the fun she had promised you. “You could’ve rang Lily up and specifically fucking asked her-”

“I did!” He shouted, startling you. You shut your mouth, blinking owlishly. “I asked her,” he said, quieter this time. “But, as you know, they moved about a month ago and she misplaced her phone book, and couldn’t remember it off the top of her head.” Tentatively, Remus held both your biceps, leveling with you so that he could look you right in the eye. He let out a shaky breath, and softly said, “I wanted to call you. Honestly… I-I wanted to show up at your flat with- with flowers o-or something, but that would’ve made me look-”

“Creepy,” you whispered pointedly, nodding. “I get it.”

He dropped your arms, looking away from you with his jaw still clenched. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said earnestly. “I just… I just like you, okay? And I wanted to get my point across, but you weren’t listening, and-”

You could feel yourself begin to well up, and it wasn’t because he yelled at you. You yelled at him, and he hadn’t even done anything wrong. Your panic had gotten the best of you. It was a genuine misunderstanding, just like Lily told you. You were wrong about him, yet again.

Instead of hearing him out, you walked quickly back into the pub, ignoring the way he called your name as he tried to catch up to you.

“I’m going home,” you said thickly as soon as you found Lily.

“Are you crying?” She asked, pulling you toward her. “What happened?”

“Lily, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You said shakily, your mouth pressing into a line. “I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to walk-”

“No,” you answered, wiping tears off your cheeks as you looked over your shoulder. “Just distract him, okay? I don’t need him following me.”

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” You said, quickly kissing her cheek. “I love you.”

You didn’t even let her respond as you rushed through the crowd, leaving through the back door of the pub.

You felt like a complete idiot. You had made an ass out of yourself, and you were convinced that now none of them liked you due to what you did to their friend.

You couldn’t believe yourself. He had admitted his feelings for you, and you blew up in his face. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach, joining the sour ache that made its home there two months ago.

Remus liked you, and you ruined it.

You stopped, looking up at the nearly moonless sky, sighing out the breath you had been holding in.

“Fucking idiot,” you muttered, and continued on your way home. Alone.

#remus #remus lupin #angst #:(#series #ongoing

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oblwan · 8 months

Text

— 𝐖𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐱

— Remus Lupin x fem!reader

— summary: you're used to boys wanting one thing and one thing only from you, causing you to be thrown off when Remus Lupin kisses you, just to kiss you. based off of "We'll Never Have Sex" by Leith Ross.

for @fairydxll 's 2k writing celebration! sorry it took so long, angel.

prompts: "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified." + "Please never stop smiling."

word count: 2.5k

— tw: slut shaming (ew, i know), alcohol, marijuana, cursing, mentions sex. mainly fluff ewwww ;)

— a/n: eek! i've been wanting to do a fic based off of this song for a while now, and i thought it would work so well with these prompts I simply couldn't resist!! i'm sorry its been so long since i've uploaded a fic, life has been really hectic and honestly really shitty and sitting down to write has been hard, but I'm so happy i finally finished this one. hope you all love it like I do!! xoxo Miz

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“Heard (Y/n) (Y/l/n)’s gonna be at the party tonight, she’s an easy target.”

Sirius Black didn’t even give his best friend a chance to react before he was smacking their fellow Gryffindor’s books out of his hands and straight to the ground, making them land with a dull thud that echoed through the corridors, never once turning his head to get a good look at the kid, he didn’t have to to know he was probably rat faced.

Remus didn’t say anything, but he had never been one to do so. He kept his eyes forward, piercing down the long hallway, but his anger showed in the tightness of his jaw and the white of his knuckled as his grip on his shoulder bag strap tightened, and if you looked close enough you could see the glint of a heavy sadness twinkle in his brown eyes, but only if you looked close enough, of course.

Which Sirius had.

The darker haired boy opened his mouth to say something, anything to his best mate to get at least the ghost of a smile to graze his lips, but he quickly shut it when he saw you making a beeline for the two of them from the opposite direction, a bright smile plastered on your face.

And, suddenly, there was the light in Remus Lupin’s eyes.

“I am so ready to get absolutely plastered!” You enthused, your eyes wide with excitement as you linked arms with your two friends, looking back and forth between the two of them, patiently awaiting for excited smiles to grace their handsome features as well. But, when they both just nodded, pathetic smiles hanging loosely from their lips, your shoulders slumped.

“You’re not excited?”

“Of course we are.” Remus assured you, raising an eyebrow at Sirius.

Sirius had a terrible habit of telling you all of the nasty things they overheard about you around the school, not because he enjoyed the sad look in your eye or the occasional quiver of your bottom lip, but because he would get so angry he simply couldn’t help himself. He felt as though he would be doing you a disservice if he didn’t make you aware of how more than half of the student body felt about you. But it began to get to the point where it became useless, you already knew, why was there any point in informing you every time?

And why was there an issue? Why was it such a bad thing that you enjoyed hooking up? It wasn’t like more than half of the male student body wasn’t doing the exact same thing you were. You were just having fun, enjoying your young years and reveling in the perks of not wanting to be tied down just yet. It made the Marauders blood boil, hearing people talk about you so terribly like they weren’t doing the same thing.

“Ecstatic.” Sirius exhaled, sending you a soft smile and a wink, causing you to smile again.

The three of you continued to walk arm in arm to the common room, chatting about nothing and everything, summer plans, classes, the handsome dark eyed boy Sirius has his eye on, Lily and James, and just about everything in between until you reached the fat lady.

Sirius muttered the password and you brought your hands to your sides, breaking the chain between the three of you, causing a chill to go down Remus’ spine at the lack of your touch, the spot on his arm now felt cold.

“There they are! S’my best mates!” James came tumbling down the steps leading to the boys dormitories, a loose tie hanging from his neck and hair tousled in all different directions.

“Are you drunk already?!” Remus questioned, stifling a laugh.

James held his hands up in surrender, “Wha’s a party without a little pre party right lads??” He laughed before bringing his hand up to point to you. “You!”

“Me?”

“You! Go change and meet us in our dorm! Pre party!!”

You had barely opened your mouth to respond before James spun around on his heel and was bounding up the steps again, impressively not tripping over his own feet, with Sirius not far behind, yelling at James about how he hoped he saved some for him.

You and Remus stood next to each other for a moment, amused looks adorning both your faces at the childish excitement from your two best friends over a Hogwarts house party, before you eventually turned to each other and giggled, both sets of cheeks flashing with heat.

“I’ll see you at the party then?” Remus asked, assuming there was no way you’d come to sit in their messy dorm hours before the party started, forced to watch Sirius and James argue over spells and the best pickup lines.

You nodded. “See you there, Moony.”

–

Remus had been right, of course, you did not join the boys in their dorm for drinks, instead deciding to take a nap before getting ready and taking your time on getting ready, before taking a couple photos with your roommates and having a couple quick drinks with them.

By the time you made it downstairs to the common room, the party was in full swing, drinks cluttered the tables, students were crammed on the couches, and the smell of smoke and firewhisky quickly invaded your lungs. You couldn’t help but smile at the atmosphere, you adored parties. There was always just a lighthearted and carefree vibe around them, you get a couple drinks in you and suddenly everyone is your best friend, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and the undeniable urge to dance all just tie together to create the perfect feeling in your chest.

And it doesn’t hurt when there’s a certain cutie you have your eye on that you can flirt with all night.

“Looking lovely as always.”

You turned your head as your eyes landed on your best friend and you smiled, trying so hard to ignore the warm feeling of butterflies in your stomach as his deep brown eyes looked into yours, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“Why thank you, Mr. Lupin.”

“Please, call me Remus.” He quipped, extending a hand out to you to assist you in walking down the remaining steps, only then had you realized you were still on the stairs.

“As you wish.” You joked back, a wink flickering across your left eye, and Remus swore if he had had just a couple more drinks his legs would have turned to jello.

Once you had made it down to even ground, a drink was being shoved into your hand by James, who’s bloodshot eyes were paired nicely with the poorly wrapped joint hanging from his lips.

“Where’s Lils?”

You smiled and took a swig from your drink, light happiness bursting through your chest at the love your best friends shared, they were better for each other than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Should be right behind me.” You said, turning your head slightly to see if your best friend had made her way out of your room yet, but the only sight you were met with was James clammering up the steps to check on his girl.

You shook your head and giggled before turning your attention back to the taller boy, who had the same humorous expression on his face.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

–

“I’m telling you! Those are the exact words that came out of her mouth!” Sirius argued to the gaggle of friends, who all weren’t listening, too occupied by their fits of laughter and the joyful tears running down their faces to listen to their friend.

The black haired boy pouted and fell against the handsome Ravenclaw he had been wrapped around all night, who cooed and kissed the side of his face, although an amused glint still sparkled in his eyes.

You hadn’t even remembered what the story was, but now you couldn’t stop laughing, being egged on by the cackles of the rest of the group, and you clutched your stomach.

The party had completely died out, leaving just you and your closest friends on the common room couches, exchanging stories and cigarettes as soft music sounded from the record player in the corner.

And Remus’ hands hadn’t left your skin all night.

They were constantly somewhere, one on your waist, your lower back, swung over your shoulder, the back of your neck, and currently, softly gripping your thigh.

You turned to look at him, a bright smile still beaming on your face before you lazily rested your head against his shoulder, prompting him to press a kiss to your hairline.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered so softly that even you almost missed it and you felt heat rising up in your cheeks, bringing your head up to face him again, this time a softer smile on your lips.

“Please never stop smiling.” He breathed out, his face turned serious, eyes filled with devotion and warmth, quickly flickering to your lips before they went back to your eyes.

And he had you.

“I feel sick.” You announced suddenly to your friends, shooting straight up to your feet, causing Remus’ hand to fall. “M’gonna turn in.”

“Oh, love! Would you like help?” Marlene asked, leaning forward and gripping her hands around the armrest of her seat, ready to up and help you, despite the curly haired brunette sitting on the floor between her legs.

Remus caught on. “No, Marlene, you stay here. I’ll help her.” He insisted, standing up beside you, his hand ghosting around your waist.

“You’re sure?” She raised an eyebrow and Remus nodded, trying his best to ignore the knowing smirks of his fellow Marauders.

“It’s no problem.”

“Alright.” She answered hesitantly, eyes flickering over to you. “Come fetch me or Lils if you need, yeah?”

You nodded and bid your friends goodnight, snaking your fingers through Remus’ while allowing him to lead you up the stairs.

You were both giggling and tripping over your own feet as you got closer to your room, but a certain heaviness weighed on your chest when you remembered what he most likely wanted from you. Even though Remus was someone closer to your heart, he was still a boy, and it was something that all boys wanted from you, because they knew they could get it.

Sex.

You didn’t entirely mind, enjoying the no strings attached one night stand every once in a while, but it got to the point where most guys at Hogwarts wouldn’t even look in your direction unless they had a lustful intent, and sometimes, that stung.

But, you still let Remus into your room, you still locked the large oak door so you’d be left alone by your roommates, who you were positive were spending the night elsewhere, and you still looked up at Remus expectantly, breathing slightly heavy from running up the stairs and only a little dizzy.

The sandy haired blond was hard to read, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he set down his bottle of firwhisky with a thud on Lily’s dresser, and he brought one hand to grip the side of your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek bone, and the other on your hip.

Your heartbeat quickened as you rested a hand on his chest, the other holding the opposite side of his neck.

It was agonizing, the way he studied you, the way he leaned in closer only to place a chaste kiss on your jaw, earning a soft sigh from you as you fluttered your eyes close.

“Fuck.” He whispered before his lips were on yours, soft and gentle, barely parted as his grip on you barely tightened, just holding you.

And he pulled away, just like that.

“(Y/n).” He whispered.

“Yes?” You breathed out, head still spinning from the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Jus’ sayin’ your name.” He replied, his eyes scanning over every feature on your face, before pulling you in for another kiss, and you took the liberty of deepening it, leading him over to your bed before he pulled away from you, his hands gripping your shoulders. “Woah, woah. Hold on, love.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, slightly cocking your head to the side.

“You don’t want-”

Remus felt his heart break.

You thought he just wanted to fuck you.

“Darling…”

“W- why did you kiss me, then?” You asked, confusion plastered all over your face, arms dangling at your sides as you waited for Remus to answer, and his intoxicated brain couldn’t get a response out fast enough.

“Oh god, oh god.” Your eyes widened in horror and this time it was Remus’ turn to be confused. “I completely misread the situation. Fuck!” You frantically rubbed at your eyes, smearing black eyeliner and mascara all over the delicate white sleeves of your top. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Remus. I- I thought you were flirting and-”

The brown eyed boy was completely helpless and didn’t know what else to do besides grabbing your face to kiss you once more, breaking apart only a second later to rest his forehead on yours.

“Just to kiss you.” He responded to your question.

“What?”

“I kissed you, because I wanted to kiss you, love.”

Your eyebrows raised in understanding, a look of uncertainty in your eye.

“Just to kiss me? Not to-” You gestured to the bed, but Remus cut you off.

“No.”

You could’ve cried, right in that moment, you could’ve cried. Did your best friend love you the way you loved him? Was this really happening?

“And, and if I told you I didn’t want to be touched?”

He smiled, “I’d say you look lovely.”

“And if I told you I just wanted to lay with you and cuddle?”

“Happily.” He breathed, a look on his face that said that was the only thing he’d ever want from you.

“If I said we’ll never have sex?”

Remus laughed and shook his head at you, “Darling, I wouldn’t care.”

You smiled, and sighed with relief, falling into him, and he gladly wrapped his arms around you, swaying you back and forth.

“Rem.” You said after a few moments, voice muffled by the material of his shirt.

He hummed in response.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he pulled away from you in disbelief, staring and studying your face, looking for any hint of sarcasm or humor, but there wasn’t one. But there was a tear running down your cheek, and Remus was quick to wipe it away.

“And I’m terrified.”

He frowned as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes lowered to the floor, ashamed to look at him. But Remus brought your head up to look at him by placing his thumb and pointer finger on your chin.

“Nothing to be scared of, dove. I love you more than you could ever know. I’m with you.”

═════════════════

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oblwan · 8 months

Text

Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I��m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #kraven #series #dark fic #ongoing

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oblwan · 8 months

Text

baby fever chapter list | remus lupin x fem!reader

a joke about remus having cute kids gets away from you in the best way. friends to friends-with-benefits to lovers. contains explicit content. 18+ only <3 [60k total]

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

#remus #remus lupin #series #ongoing #i think

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oblwan · 9 months

Text

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour one!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 746

prologue / hour 1 << pt. 3 -- hour 2 >> hour 3

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟐 ·:*¨༺

You and Remus haven't spoken in thirty-seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds—not that you're counting.

"Who cares if I was whining?"

It startles you, "I do! If you're going to say I'm acting like a child, at least take accountability and say you're acting like one too."

"So you admit you were acting childish." He crosses his arms.

You scoff, "Oh, you are such a—" You stop yourself, biting your tongue.

"I'm such a what?" He taunts with a smirk like he knows he's won this battle.

But you're not ready to admit defeat, "You are such a petty asshole!"

"I'm petty? Me?" He puts his finger to his chest so hard it hurts him.

"Yes! Yes, you are! You didn't show up to my birthday, Remus! At least I got you a present for yours!"

Remus throws his head back and lets out a groan from deep within himself, "Really?! You're going to bring up your stupid birthday again?! Bringing it up is petty. You know that, right?"

"No, it's not!" You argue, "It's bringing up something that hurt me! And something you never apologized for, by the way." You cross your arms, close to stomping your foot like a child.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I had plans! You want me to apologize for having plans?!"

"You never even got me a gift! Not even a card!"

"Listen very closely," He speaks slowly, boring holes into your eyes—scorching your retinas, "You and I are not friends. We do not like one another. I threw your gift away. Okay?"

It hurts you, "You threw it away?"

"I don't like you! Why would I want something that reminds me of you?"

You look at the floor, willing tears to stay in your eyes. You will not let him see how much it hurts you, "See? Petty asshole." You say through gritted teeth.

"Fine. Believe what you want."

"Hello?" The same voice crackles through the speaker.

"Hello," You greet.

"Um," They pause, "Maintenance crew should be there in about five hours."

You're going to pry the doors open and kill yourself, you think.

"Okay. Thank you." You squeeze out before letting go of the button and screaming.

Remus's eyes go wide, and he flinches, "Upset?"

"What do you think, dick?"

He puts his hands up in surrender.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Minutes pass before either of you speak. Remus is the one to break the silence.

"So... we're gonna be here for at least five hours."

Your eye twitches, "Wow, we've got a detective over here!" You turn to him, "Maybe they weren't lying when they said you were smart." Saccharine sarcasm drips from your tongue.

"Oh, shut up!" He lashes back, "Get off your high fucking horse!"

"You're irrelevant to me," You say, staring straight.

"You're so damn childish!"

"Shut up! Shut! Up!" You stomp your foot on the ground like a little kid who's not allowed any ice cream.

"This is gonna be fun," He mutters—it doesn't go unheard.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"I did," He crosses his arms, "I said: 'This is going to be fun.' In case you're too dense to tell, I was being sarcastic," He says the word slowly, talking down to you. It only fuels the fire more.

"I swear to every god you believe in, I will shriek so loud it pierces your eardrums, and you go deaf!"

"Go ahead! If I go deaf, I'll never have to hear your stupid voice again, and I will cheer, and I will celebrate, and I will throw a party!" His face is red at the end of his rant, and you swear there's steam coming out of his ears.

Your smile is taunting, "That was quite amusing."

"Shut up!" He's growing restless, and it's only egging you on further.

"Oh, you want me to shut up?"

"I would love for you to shut up."

"Fine," You cross your arms, "Let's play the silent game. Whoever wins gets to slap the other person in the face."

"I'm not going to slap you."

You light up, "I guess you'll just have to let me win."

"Fine. But no slapping hard."

You light up and clench your fists in anticipation.

"Okay, no punches either," Remus says, glimpsing at your hands with a worried smile.

"Sorry!" You flex your hands out, "I'm just so excited!" You're smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

'What a cute smile,' Remus thinks right before he gets slapped in the face—metaphorically and literally.

me when i like what i write🤯🤯

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow

#remus #remus lupin #series #ongoing #enemies to lovers

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oblwan · 9 months

Text

the girl with the books | r.l

pairings: remus lupin x reader (she/her pronouns) genre(s): marauder era, strangers to lovers, fluff, humour summary: james and sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of remus’s affection – return his feelings. word count: 3.0k warning(s): none note: this is a 2022 update of the fic of the same name that i wrote back in 2016! my writing has improved by leaps and bounds and i couldn’t help but edit and improve the fic that a few of you seemed to really love :) i hope you enjoy it if you liked the original, or that you find something new to read

The Hogwarts library was the place where you found the most solace. Even on the few days that the Scottish countryside provided undisturbed sunshine, like today, you preferred to curl up with a book on one of the grand wooden tables. You enjoyed your time in the library; reading fiction or researching different topics that you were curious about. While your friends encouraged you to enjoy the warm day with them, you easily waved them off in favour of the dimly lit library.

Remus Lupin could be found in the library as often as you, except it wasn’t the books that kept him coming back. The sight of you sitting in a corner reading by yourself was enough to draw his attention every few minutes. He couldn’t even help himself, his eyes had no choice in the way they continually found your figure, but he was in no place to complain.

Remus sat with his three best friends at the other end of the library, and they were less than happy to be spending the first sunny day of spring in the library rather than bothering the giant squid in the black lake. Now that the weather was no longer freezing, Sirius and James were desperate to cause some mischief, and Peter was happy to comply.

“What is it that you find so fascinating about a hall full of books?” Sirius inquired, lifting a book up from the table, grimacing at the idea of spending his free time reading, and carelessly dropping it back onto the table.

Remus flinched as the sound resonated throughout the library, capturing your attention as you gave the four friends an inquisitive look. For a moment, Remus held his breath, unable to tear his eyes away from you as you gave him a speck of casual attention. Realising it was just James Potter and his friends messing around, you happily returned to your reading without a second thought.

“It’s not about the books, Padfoot,” Remus snapped quietly, glancing away with reddened cheeks, the heat of your gaze on him still warming his body. “And I didn’t force you to be here,” he reminded.

“Well, no,” Sirius sighed. “But it’s terribly tragic for you to spend the first nice day Hogwarts has seen in-“

“A decade,” James chimed in, exaggerating to help Sirius make a point.

“A decade,” Sirius agreed with a nod. “Inside a hall full of books instead of playing outside with us! As your friend, it’s our duty to convince you to abandon this wretched place and do something more fun.”

“Well said, Padfoot,” James agreed, tall frame spread languidly across three chairs in a makeshift bed. “Dare I say, revolutionary. So, black lake, Moony?”

“I’m perfectly content here, thank you very much,” Remus refused, thoroughly entertained by James and Sirius’s usual dramatics.

“Who could be content in such an oppressive place,” Sirius complained, as if he himself didn’t have good grades and didn’t spend time studying in this very library. “Other than Lily,” he added, recognising the smitten glint in James’s eyes that he got every time he brought her up.

“She’s so responsible, my lovely Lily,” James sighed, pleased with himself. “I’m going to marry that girl, just you wait and see. It’s the only reason I come to the library with her.”

“You come to the library to chat up Lily? No wonder you aren’t dating yet,” Sirius teased. As James and Sirius went back and forth poking fun at each other, Peter pondered Remus’s words.

“If you’re not here for the books, what are you here for?” Peter wondered aloud, causing Sirius and James to glance expectantly at their friend.

Remus rolled his eyes, intending to fabricate a fantastic comeback that would distract his three friends, but even the thought of you caused his stare to drift back to where you were, now getting up to choose a different book to check out of the library.

He loved the way you did that. Even if you finished a book in your time at the library, you always made sure to bring a book with you.

Remus loved the way you did everything, really. He had always liked you, ever since you loaned him a quill when he forgot his during Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even now, it was his favourite class just because it made him think of you.

“Moony?” Sirius waved a hand in front of Remus’s face in an attempt to grab his attention. “Remus, what are you staring at?” he followed Remus’s gaze and saw exactly what he was staring at. “Oh,” he said, finally connecting all the very obvious clues together. “It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Sirius practically giggled with glee.

James’s head snapped in your direction, scrambling to sit up and launch himself next to Sirius in an effort to get a good look at you. This commotion once again drew your attention, leading James and Sirius to act as naturally as they could. They picked up the books stacked in front of them and made a big deal out of reading the text aloud, the act so comical and over-the-top that it couldn’t possibly be convincing.

You grinned to yourself, shaking your head in amusement, and slipped behind a bookshelf to look over the Herbology section. Frank Longbottom had recommended a delightful title on growing Dittany and other healing herbs, and you took the older boy’s recommendations very seriously.

Once you were out of sight, James tossed his book thoughtlessly aside, snatching Remus’s book from his grasp to gain his undivided attention. “Who is that, Moony my dear?” James asked, adjusting his glasses. They had slipped down his nose when he whipped his head around to look at you, and the act had made the boy a little dizzy.

“Who?” Remus asked, knowing that his performance was pitiful and unconvincing, and pretending not to understand regardless of this fact. “What do you mean?”

Frustrated that Remus was lying, and subsequently that he was an absolutely terrible liar, Sirius exclaimed, “The girl you were staring at!”

“Who is that girl? Do you know her?” James asked excitedly, taking a more enthusiastic approach than Sirius in hopes that it would make Remus open up about his crush.

“Girl?” Remus repeated, squinted as if he was giving this conversation a real good thought, before widening his eyes sarcastically. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sorry boys.”

James and Sirius shared a look – having a silent conversation that Remus would promptly regret keeping them in the dark about his crush – before rolling their eyes and sighing. They had decided it: they were just going to have to catch you when Remus was gone.

A few hours later, it had darkened considerably since you first entered the library, and once you realised that you had been hauled up in the library for a considerable amount of time, you realised how hungry you were. Perhaps camping out in the library all day without a proper lunch wasn’t your best idea, but at least you knew dinner would be ready soon.

Rising, you stretched your legs before collecting all the books you had flicked through that day and moving to stow them back in their original places on the tall Hogwarts library shelves. Most of them were within a reasonable reach, slotting easily into their previous spots as you strolled happily throughout the library. However, one of the books was at a considerably higher place on the shelf, and you couldn’t put it away even on the tips of your toes.

With a huff of frustration, you stood flat on your feet and were about to reach for your wand when someone took the book from your grasp. “Here,” a voice said from behind you. “Let me help you with that!”

You turned just in time to see Sirius Black easily putting your book away for you, his friend James Potter standing nearby with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. Though James and Sirius were always a ball of energy in the classes you shared with them, the grins they sported today were difficult to identify. Perhaps mischievous would be the best way to describe the perfect simpers on their faces.

“Thanks,” you acknowledged his help with furrowed brows, wondering what Sirius and James could possibly be so ecstatic about. When the two boys simply stared at you, unmoving, you figured that they wanted something from you. “Did you two need something?” you asked, their unwavering smiles growing slightly unnerving.

“Oh!” Sirius seemed to realise that they were staring at you, and how disturbing this might be to a girl they had hardly spoken to. “Right! Yes, actually. We wanted to have a word with you.”

“Okay,” you nodded as if this wasn’t unusual. James and Sirius certainly didn’t seem to think their behaviour was odd, so you figured they were harmless on this particular occasion.

“We were just wondering if you knew Remus,” James explained himself, barely keeping still with excitement. “I mean, you do know him, don’t you?”

You nodded, still weary of where the conversation was leading. Sirius and James were known to be pranksters, and you weren’t sure if you were the next victim of one of their jokes. “Yes, I know Remus,” you confirmed. “He’s your friend, right? I speak to him sometimes when we’re in the library at the same time.” When Sirius and James linked hands and started jumping up and down, utter confusion overwhelmed you. “Uh, why do you ask?”

Noticing your discomfort, James and Sirius stopped jumping in favour of smiling at you. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? We share a few classes but between listening to the Professor and keeping James in check it can be hard to keep up,” Sirius said, his natural charisma making him instantly likeable.

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” James said politely. “Now, this may seem quite blunt, but we want to set you up with our friend Remus,” he said matter-of-factly, followed by an encouraging nod from Sirius.

Your eyes widened at the confession. “Oh,” you said awkwardly. “I’m not going to lie, I had no idea that’s what you were going to say.”

“We have that effect on people,” said James, nodding sympathetically, as if people often had this reaction to the things they said. “So? What do you say? Give our mate Remus a chance?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shook your head, trying to smile politely.

The smiles on Sirius and James’s faces faded. “Why not?” Sirius inquired, tilting his head to the side as he observed your nervous expression. “Do you not like Remus?”

“Why wouldn’t you like Remus?” James added, appalled and affronted at the mere idea of someone not liking their best friend. “You like reading, don’t you? Well, Remus might even have you beat! He’s the world’s biggest bookworm.”

“Incorrigible,” Sirius agreed. “Can’t get him out of this bloody library. And you aren’t helping, either,” he added.

“I’m not?”

“Of course not!” James exclaimed. “You only keep him here even longer than usual! Even on a day as lovely as this.”

“Perfect for wasting time,” sighed Sirius, lamenting the wonderful day outside they had missed out on. “So, how come you don’t like Remus?”

“That’s not it,” you said hurriedly, struggling to get a word in amongst their quick banter. “It’s just,” you sighed. “Why are you asking me this anyway?” you changed the subject, hoping it would take some of the heat off of you.

Luckily for you, it worked. “Well, Remus seems to have developed a crush on you,” James said casually, as if he wasn’t bearing one of his best friends’ deepest secret. Well, second deepest secret. “It’s really quite adorable. All the typical crush symptoms. You know, longing gazes,” James began listing the many qualities he had noticed in Remus during the last few hours. “Romantic, hopeless sighing whenever you’re around, losing focus, refusing to play with his best friends even on a day as perfect as this.”

“The list goes on!” Sirius exclaimed. You had to smile at the two friends, not only were they quite comical, but they seemed to be buzzing with endless energy. “I think it would benefit you to give Remus a chance. He’s rather attractive, our friend.”

“Though, not as attractive as us,” James added, winking to show that he was joking.

“Well we can’t hold everyone to such impossible standards,” Sirius said sympathetically, nodding to himself. “Still, he’s quite attractive! Charming and kind, too. All the things girls like. So are you in?”

“Well,” you stammered, feeling your face burning with embarrassment when you saw how intently Sirius and James were looking at you.

To save you from your answer, the sound of Remus’s footsteps and voice interrupted your sentence. “What are you boys still doing here,” he froze when he came into view, noticing the way Sirius and James had cornered you. “Y/n?” he asked, the picture of you hanging out with his two best friends nothing short of foreign and unfamiliar. Remus sighed in annoyance when he saw Sirius and James exchange guilty faces. “What have these two told you?” he asked you, already dreading your answer.

“We didn’t tell her much,” Sirius said, quick to defend their actions. “We’ve just been… talking,” he added, purposely leaving out the subject matter. James nodded rigorously, smiling innocently at Remus with visible panic in his eyes.

“I’ll talk to you both later,” Remus said to his friend, tone firm and borderline scolding. Then, he faced you with what looked like an apologetic smile. “Do you need help putting that away?” he asked, nudging his head to the last two books in your arms

You smiled, instantly more comfortable now that Remus was there. With a nod, you left Sirius and James behind in favour of putting your books away. “Listen,” Remus began, gently taking your books and putting them on the correct shelf in the Herbology section. “I’m really sorry for whatever Sirius and James said,” he let out a nervous laugh, easily reaching the high shelves thanks to his tall height.

“Don’t be,” you shrugged, charmed by Remus’s very presence. Something about Remus’s gentle spirit contrasted comfortably with Sirius and James’s craziness, and it settled your heart in a wonderful way. “They meant well, I think,” you smiled up at Remus. “Your friends are really nice.”

“I wouldn’t say nice, perhaps deranged is more accurate,” Remus joked, a pleased smile gracing his lips when you laughed. “But they’re pretty great. I can always count on them to say things I’m too scared to say,” he admitted, trailing off into a comfortable silence.

“I don’t know about them being deranged, but they did have some interesting things to say,” you admitted, fully intending to tease Remus once you realised his friends were telling the truth. He really did have a crush on you. “All about crushes, and longing gazes,” you added, grinning when you saw Remus turn slightly pink at your insinuation.

Remus groaned, lifting his hands to cover his face in embarrassment. “Oh Merlin,” he muttered, nervous laughter bubbling from his mouth. “I’m so sorry! If anything they said made you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shook your head. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. Stunned by the sheer force of their energy? Definitely. But not uncomfortable. I guess it was just hard to believe,” you admitted. “Still is, really.”

“What, that I fancy you?” Remus asked, uncovering his eyes once you assured him that you weren’t upset. “Why is that hard to believe?”

“I don’t know, you’re… Remus Lupin,” you explained terribly. “You’re a Gryffindor and you’re funny and popular. Your friends didn’t even know what my name was and I’ve been in your class for nearly six years now,” you recalled, shrugging your shoulders good-naturedly.

“Sirius and James hardly remember their own names, I wouldn’t take it personally,” Remus wisecracked, though there was a seriousness in his eyes that made you believe his words. “Besides, the trouble is only just starting!” he added. “Now that they know your name, you won’t be able to get rid of them.”

“Sounds terrifying,” you joked back, grinning.

“There’s no escaping those two,” Remus said dramatically. “I’ve been trying to shake them for six years now, but they don’t seem to care.”

“Maybe I should change my name,” you offered.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Remus burst out, laughing at your banter. You grinned at each other, so absorbed with the other person that you didn’t notice Sirius and James poke their heads around the shelf to eavesdrop on your conversation. “Y/n, do you think,” Remus paused, intimidated by the adorable way in which you turned your head and smiled at him. You were overwhelmingly perfect, and it was really starting to distract the poor boy. “Would you maybe…”

“Would I maybe?” you encouraged.

“Would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me? This upcoming weekend? If you’re not busy that weekend, I mean,” Remus said, barely getting the words out without struggling.

“Oh,” the smile on your face widened almost impossibly so. “I think I might be busy,” Remus’s face dropped, eyes averting to his feet to hide his disappointment. “Changing my name to avoid these two boys I just met. However, their friend is pretty cute, so perhaps I could postpone my plans,” you added quickly, not wanting your joke to go badly.

Remus’s head rose quickly to meet your eyes, a relieved sigh leaving him. “Really?” he asked rhetorically, and before you could confirm your answer, you heard loud cheering come from beside you. Within seconds, James and Sirius leapt out from behind you and tackled Remus into a hug.

“Yeah Remus!”

“That’s our best friend!”

“Our best friend is finally going on a date!”

“Don’t scare her off,” Remus warned, pushing James away as he started peppering kisses across his face. “Seriously, stop it,” he laughed, not meaning a single word.

“No,” Sirius said proudly, pulling you in to join their hug. “Y/n’s just going to have to get used to us.”

You quite liked the sound of that.

#remus #remus lupin #one shot

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