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#remus x you
ur-local-anti-hero · 2 days
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Back to december
Remus Lupin x reader
Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.
Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance
CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.
Word count: 1.8K
This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.
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“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time
It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”
Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 
“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 
“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.
“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 
“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 
“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 
“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 
“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 
And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 
“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 
Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 
“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  
“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 
───✥───
Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 
“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 
Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 
“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.
“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 
Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 
“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 
She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 
“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 
“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 
“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 
Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 
“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 
“Somehow I doubt that.” 
Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.
───✥───
After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 
But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 
“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 
Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 
When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 
“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 
“Come sit, Moony” 
Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.
“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 
“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 
“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 
“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 
“Why?” 
“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 
“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 
“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 
“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder
“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 
“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 
Maybe Sirius was right. 
───✥───
The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 
But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 
The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 
“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 
“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself
Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .
“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 
You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 
“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 
“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 
“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 
Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 
“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 
There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.
"Can we try again, please?" He asked 
You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 
"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 
"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 
Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 
Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 
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thebestofoneshots · 2 days
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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: What will happen as you walk inside the snake pit? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp
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Chapter 43: Sympathy for the Devil
You appeared in a large hall. Their invitation turned into a paper heron, flew out of your hands and up in the air before blowing up into small little gold specks, a rather elaborate spell for an invitation, which easily showed the amount of time and money the Rosiers had put into their party. Evan’s father, Arkalis Rosier, was a relevant political figure in the British Ministry, so it made sense. 
He was basically the main aid of Harold Mitchum (the current minister) and was actively looking to secure the position in the next election. He was also an ambassador for the Ministry and had met your father during some of his trips, although he had already heard from him since he was close to Orion and your father and Orion went way back. 
Either way, if this party was part of his quest to secure his position in the 1980s election, he was definitely doing a fine job at pampering his guests with bright and colourful tricks, among luxuries. You couldn’t say much about the food, but the small snack table displayed near the far corner of the room looked mouthwatering. 
“Silas! You made it,” said a man as he approached your father. You swallowed, he looked exactly like Evan, except older, and with a thick scar across his left eye, which looked glassy instead of dark green as the other one. 
“Of course. Arkalis, we wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” your mother responded with a bright smile and extended her hand towards him. She did always tend to shine in social situations; shiny grin, elegant manners, and incredibly persuasive stance, she managed to make every single person feel at ease when she was around. You sometimes wondered if it was because of the fairy bIood, running much thicker through their veins or because she had learned, and adapted to your father’s needs. 
The fairy bIood made sense, after all, the fae were known for their lavish parties and alluring abilities to humans and wizards alike. 
Your father extended his hand and shook the man’s hand, who promptly turned to you. “This must be your daughter.” 
You extended your hand politely, channeling a similar energy to your mother’s, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosier, I am–” 
“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of you,” he said with a smile. You swallowed. “Horace told me about the time he teamed you up with Evan on potions, he mentioned you had done a delightful job.” 
“Right,” you added as you relaxed. 
“Darling, you didn’t tell us you were friends with Evan,” your mom intervened, looking at you softly.
“I didn’t?” you asked nonchalantly. “Must have forgotten,” you shrugged it off. “You know how busy it’s been since I got to the new school, with all the classes and adapting and meeting new people, new teachers and so forth.”
“Of course, of course,” intervened Arkalis. “The young girl is right, you cannot expect her to tell you every single thing.” 
Well, at least he’s nicer than his child, you thought as you looked at Arkalis and nodded in agreement. Your father, who clearly thought you befriending Evan would be an excellent political advantage was looking at you with a rather stern face. Holding back from speaking but not quite hiding his feelings completely. You pouted in return and continued nodding along with Arkalis.
Eventually, Arkalis had to go and your father grabbed your arm, gently pulling you to him and whispering through gritted teeth, “You didn’t think it would be clever to tell us you are friends with his son?” 
“I am so far from being friends with Evan Rosier I might as well be on a different planet entirely,” you responded as you tried to shake his hand off. Even though he had grabbed onto you gently, the fact that he had done it was upsetting, especially with how much it reminded you of being manhandled by Barty and his gang. 
Your father huffed and let your arm go, you pulled it back and gave him a rather defiant look, “What? Don’t tell me I now must also make friends that are politically convenient to your career?” 
“It wouldn’t hurt if you did.” 
You looked at the ground bitterly, remembering the bruises on your neck and the scraping on your knee and the splinching you had gotten on that November moon, then turning back to him with a calm expression, “Wouldn’t it?” 
“Darling,” your mom intervened, pulling your father from you by hooking her arm with his, “It’s the Sallows, let’s greet them,” she added, your father’s gaze softened for a second, as if he could see through your brave façade, but he turned back to your mother shortly after, and walked along with her to greet the other family.  
Right, go, who gives a fuck anyway, you thought bitterly as you took off in another direction, straight to that food table that had caught your eye a few minutes ago. You picked one of the small bruschettas and took a small bite of it as you looked through the window. Smoked Salmon, you realised as you savoured it. Outside, the sun was starting to set, the gardens were vast and covered by a thick layer of snow, and there was some kind of hedge maze that appeared to be surrounding the property. Perhaps with several spells to keep the muggles away from their house. It was actually rather clever. 
There were a few crows perched on the hedges, black and contrasting with the layer of snow as they picked out something from their branches. While they gave the outside a rather ominous look, it also kind of made sense, considering the heritage of the Rosiers. Some people thought they were related to the eldest Peverell brother, in fact, you had heard rumours of Arkalis looking for the Deathly Hallows, even if most people considered them nothing more than fantasies. 
“What are you doing here?” a scolding voice asked. 
You turned around hastily to find Regulus leaning against the table with a sneaky smirk in his mouth. You sighed, “Godric, Reggie!”
His smile widened and he shrugged, “Fancy seeing you, I spotted your parents earlier, imagined you’d be here too.” 
“Well you’re as clever as sneaky, congratulations!” you said before taking another bite of your bruschetta, it was delicious. 
“You shouldn’t be here though,” he added in a more serious tone, “I overheard my parents talking about–” 
And then it happened, the two large doors at the entrance of the hall snapped open and a man walked inside, making the most dramatic entrance you had ever seen in your life –and you were dating Sirius Black. He looked about as old as Arkalis, except this man was much better looking, not to say Arkalis was ugly –then again, you might have been biased because you despised his son.
Regardless, something about the man was oddly familiar, he had dark hair arranged in a perfectly put-together hairstyle that swooped in a rather elegant way. He was wearing dark wizard robes, although vintage looking, clearly expensive since the material flowed with a cadence that only the finest fabrics could match. He had a charming smile plastered across his delicate features as he approached Arkalis, easily greeting him like an old friend. 
You watched with curiosity, the room seemed awfully silent since he walked in, there weren’t even whispers, Regulus had gone quiet too, as if they knew the man, as if they feared him. You looked at him again, at the elegant curve of his handsome nose and that’s when you knew who he was. You pictured him with a robe, darker lighting, in a blurry photo somewhere in the Daily Prophet that insisted on avoiding the subject. 
“It’s Voldemort,” you whispered as you swallowed thickly, in absolute disbelief of what was going on around you.
You’d expect someone to scream, someone to pull out their wand or at least someone to apparate the hell away, but everyone seemed perfectly fine with the fact that the self-proclaimed dark lord had just busted the party like some sort of Maleficent from the sleeping beauty. 
“Reggie, do you know who that–” 
He shook his head in response, not because he was responding to your question, but rather in a warning manner, clearly telling you to remain as silent as the rest of the people in the room. You gave him a look combined with a sigh and you saw his jaw tighten as he nodded his head. Another warning. Whatever was about to happen, couldn’t be good. You were in the middle of what could possibly a tеrrorist attack–
Except you weren’t.
“Tom, a pleasure to have you here already,” Arkalis said, approaching the taller man with a bright smile, as bright as the one he had greeted your dad with. No, brighter actually. 
It took 10 seconds of the following exchange for you to realise that you weren’t in the middle of a tеrrorist attack but rather that you were at their dinner party. 
Does my father even know? You wondered, and then you spotted him amiably talking to Orion, who seemed as relaxed as possible with the entrance of the Dark Lord into Arkalis’ party. Of course he did, you thought as you tried to hold back a scoff. 
You looked around carefully, not a single wizard seemed perturbed by the situation, not a single one had raised their wands against the man. Even Reggie looked relatively at ease as he witnessed the entire exchange, as if he had seen something similar happen before, that’s when the eerie thought crept up: He has seen this before. And of course, he had, he was the perfect child, polar opposite of Sirius. When you met him he was always scared of doing something that could enrage his parents, terrified of their reaction to him even thinking the wrong thing. 
While Sirius had rebelled against his parents, Regulus had set out to be the ideal child, following their orders to protect himself from the wrath his brother often faced. His survival mechanism was to be the perfect Black child, and if his parents were Dark Wizards then he would have to become one too, at least until he was old enough to flee. 
You looked at him with a pained expression, feeling the same way you had when you figured that he hadn’t been the one to tell on you, but rather been forced to do it, life had been unfair to him then, and was being unfair to him now. And you had no idea if you could even find a way to help him. It was in moments like that, when you realised how much he was like Sirius, both trapped, just in different ways. 
But then again, were you any different? Weren’t you also at the party talking to dark wizards like they were any other influential person in society? Weren’t you standing there, like every single other person, looking at the interaction without raising your wand? 
Of course, you didn’t stand a chance in a duel against the Dark Lord, but wouldn’t the right thing be to try? Wasn’t that what you had been training to do? No, that’s not it either. You remembered a conversation you’d had with Nightshade before you started training, she had said you were talented, but that wasn’t the end of it, your father’s contacts were a key factor here. If you managed to gather enough information tonight, perhaps then you could use that information against them in the future. 
In the end, you’d do what your father has asked you to do from the very start, play the role of the perfect little politician’s daughter, smile and nod and charm people in the same way your mother did often, all in the simple effort to get something useful out of their head’s tonight. You took a deep breath, all that occlumency you had been practising would be more necessary than it had ever been. 
“Excellent, why don’t we eat now?” Tom asked with a charming smile, “I believe you have a surprise prepared for later tonight.”
Evil doesn´t always look the part, you thought as you stared at him, he had a charisma similar to that of your mother, if a little sinister. He walked alongside Arkalis, who was quickly joined by his wife Astoria Rosier, an elegant, fair-haired woman that looked far younger than she could possibly be. Orion and your father followed next, along with a few other people whom you hadn’t identified yet. 
“Not everyone will dine with them I assume?” you said turning to Regulus. 
He shook his head in response, “Only some of us will.” 
“Of course,” you said with a nod, you too were expected to sit on the same table as them. 
You walked alongside Regulus and a few more people towards one of the doors, you saw Evan joining their parents. Barty was at the party too, you had spotted him in the distance earlier, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be part of the few selected, since he had stayed where he was, talking to a girl whom you didn’t recognize from school, but that oddly reminded you of your boyfriend. 
When you reached the table inside the private dining room, you realised the seats had been tagged for everyone. Tom, as Arkalis kept calling the most evil wizard alive, had taken the head of the table while the host, and unsurprisingly, Orion, had taken the two seats next to him. Your father was right next to Orion and there was a rather young man with pale blond hair, as long as Lily’s but completely straight. He couldn’t have been much older than you, he looked in his early twenties at most, a child. 
Your mother was close to your father, Astoria and Walburga right next to her. From there, there was a stern-looking man who you didn’t recognize and a curly-haired woman who looked about as unhinged as Barty. It was your position on the table that you found dire, you were sitting across from your mother and in between the long-haired blond, who looked displeased by having you sitting there instead of someone else and none other than Evan Rosier. When you saw his name next to yours on the small floating name tags, you had to bite your tongue to avoid the displeased sigh that was just about to escape your mouth. 
When you sat down, the small paper with your name displayed on it disappeared, and on your plate appeared a fresh-looking salad. Evan sat down beside you a couple of minutes afterwards. 
“Evan,” you greeted with a tight smile and a simple nod. Yes, you had to play a part, that didn’t mean you’d have to be best friends with Evan Rosier for the night. Why was Regulus so damn far away? You swore he was about the one other person in this entire party with whom you’d actually want to be sitting and there were about seven other people in between the two of you. You took a deep breath and turned to your salad as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire dining room, perking your ears when you heard Orion speak again. 
They mentioned something regarding the salad being fresh, which you thought was the most philistine compliment someone could ever give, and then they started going on about the weather. Apparently, it had been an abnormally cold winter in England this year. And while White Christmas’ weren’t uncommon, they were a lot more rare than they had been in the past few years. 
You heard your mother say something about global warming to Walburga, who seemed puzzled as if she had never heard the term in her life, which in hindsight she might not have since she lived in her own little pure-bIood wizard bubble and tended to stay the hell away from muggle news. Your parents always knew what was happening with the muggles, they thought it was important to stay informed to be able to maintain the relationships between the muggle world and the wizarding world as forthcoming as possible. 
You stabbed a small piece of tomato and brought it to your mouth as you thought of how stupidly prosaic the small talk of dark wizards was. Were they holding back because it was a Christmas dinner? Were they all going to pretend Voldemort wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, eating the same boring salad as the rest of you? 
How did they even manage to accomplish all their evil deeds if they were just talking about the scores of the latest quidditch championships? Okay, that was Evan talking with whoever was sitting beside him, but still.  These people were supposed to be the most dangerous wizards on the planet and yet they were–
“So tell me, how is the little errand I asked for going?” Asked Tom. 
There it is, you thought as you sat a little straighter and paid closer attention to their conversation. By now the salad had disappeared and there was a broccoli soup sitting across from you, the taste was actually pretty good, quite cheesy. Apparently, cheese was the right choice no matter how morally diverse the audience you were hosting was. Although, you weren’t sure their audience really was all that morally diverse, except for you and perhaps Regulus. 
“Excellent,” Arkalis responded as he turned to Tom, he looked awfully pleased with himself. “They’re downstairs, waiting for the show.” 
Tom took a spoon of his soup and then smiled. You saw a snake slowly creeping up his chair, and he seemed awfully comfortable around her when he noticed. The snake hissed and he said something back to her. He speaks parseltongue. 
Now, that might not be new information for Dumbledore, but it was to you. The Daily Prophet didn’t talk about all the skills the Dark Lord had honed through the years. It’s ridiculous, you thought. What if someone tried to use serpensortia against him and got killed by their own spell? Of course, someone who thought that spell was enough to go against Voldemort was going to get killed later on anyway. Regardless, it should already be common knowledge what he was good and bad at. 
“Good, I suppose we’ll be enjoying the spectacle when the dinner’s done?”
“Indeed,” Orion said this time around. “Things must be prepared for the ceremony.” 
Ceremony? What fucking ceremony? You thought as you took another spoon of your soup. You tried to keep your eyes on it, as if not to seem like you were prying. 
“Is the soup really that interesting to you?”  
Godricbedamned, not now fuckface, you thought as you turned around to Evan, “It’s really good, actually. More interesting than you and your friend gushing about your quidditch crushes for sure.” 
The blond man next to you, whom you had now learned was Lucius, snorted when he heard your reply while Evan clenched his jaw and looked at his parents nervously, as if trying to make sure he hadn’t caught your exchange. You followed his gaze and then turned back to look at him with a slight smirk. So that was a low blow then?  You thought as you recalled, he had only talked about male players with his other friend. 
Oh, it’s because Daddy doesn’t know. Better leave the subject behind. You weren’t planning to out him, no matter how much of an asshole he continued to be, even if last time he had actually gotten Severus off your back. Speaking of him, it was a delight not to have to see his long face around, looks like his family didn’t make the cut to be invited to the pit of snakes you were currently in. 
“At least I have someone that’s interested in talking to me.” 
“If I was interested in talking, I’d have already struck a conversation Evan, not all of us are eager to say every single thing that comes to mind.” 
“You wish.” 
You hmphed at that and turned your head to the other side, “Lucius, would you mind passing me the salt?” you asked politely. He turned to you a little confused at first, as if he was surprised you had talked to him and then nodded, handing over the salt to you an instant later. “Thank you. Your shoes are very elegant, by the way.” 
Lucius seemed both surprised and pleased that you had noticed his shoes. They were impeccable like he had either bought them for this event or had them cleaned and polished. He had walked with slow decision as he approached the table earlier, and when you spotted his shoes, you realised why he was being as careful with them as he had been with his hair throughout the night.  This man cared about looking good. 
“Oh, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I got them custom-made by a very elegant designer, you might have heard of him, Alistar Shoman.” 
Gotcha! 
“You’re telling me that’s a pair of Shomans? That’s incredible.” 
Lucius seemed pretty pleased with the conversation, you threw a side glance at Evan who just scoffed and turned to speak to his friend again, all the while you looked at Lucius and pretended the history of the Shoman company was the most interesting thing in the world. Perhaps it was just slightly more interesting than the broccoli soup. 
Then you heard your name drop from Orion’s mouth and you turned to him with the most polite expression you could muster. 
Fuck. You had been paying so much attention to Lucius’ stupid talk to prove Evan wrong that you had missed the one bit of relevant information they had been talking about, and now they were calling you for some reason. What a miserable spy you would make. 
“Yes, Mr. Black?” You asked. 
“We were just talking about the fact that we’ve been so busy that we haven’t been able to go watch the Quidditch Matches recently, but we’ve been told they have been outstandingly interesting.” 
You felt the tension in his voice, they probably knew you had sought against Regulus in the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Match. 
“They have been,” you said with a nod. “Quidditch is certainly something intense at Hogwarts, all of the teams are incredibly capable. It certainly has been a challenge to be able to keep up with my position.” 
Orion laughed at that, “Such modesty.” 
You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that but with a small smile. “Slughorn told me you were one of the most promising players,” added Arkalis. “Some teams are already considering you…” 
That actually caught you by surprise, you loved quidditch, but you had never actually considered making a career out of it. Lucius turned to you with newfound interest, as if now that he knew what you were capable of you had become actually interesting to him, beyond whatever fashion talk you had held earlier. It was hard to hold the urge to glare at him for it. 
“I’m sure all of the players in this table are as good as me, or even better,” you said, thinking of Regulus, and playing your role of clever guest, even if you had given Evan a compliment with it. It wasn’t a lie, Evan was a good chaser, but he was also a total asshole. 
“And yet, your team won in the last match,” Arkalis said, making sure to look down on his son as he spoke the last line. 
You didn’t turn your gaze to Evan but you could tell he had lowered his gaze from the little you saw in the corner of your eyes. No wonder the boy was like he was, his father was even worse than him. You felt a little pity towards Evan, even if you still disliked him thoroughly. 
You decided driving the conversation to a different subject would be the best thing to do before things got even more tense. “How did you meet Professor Slughorn?” you asked, managing to have a genuinely curious look on your face as you did. 
“We studied with him,” replied Tom, turning to look at you with a chill-inducing smirk, both charming and dangerous at the same time. He definitely had that cult-leader vibe going for him, no wonder so many people were so eager to follow him, it wasn’t just because he was powerful or because of their shared hate towards muggles, most of the men in the room shared those 2 characteristics. The one thing that made the difference was how much more charming this man was in comparison. “We were both in the Slug Club too, weren’t we, Arkalis?” 
Arkalis hummed in response, “Indeed, he used to say Tom was the most brilliant student he ever taught.” 
“He likes playing favourites,” you added with a smile. 
“He does indeed,” agreed Arkalis, and eyed his son again, his gaze reproachful and thunderous. “He told me you and Evan made an excellent team.” 
You remembered that day and tried not to shudder at the thought of Evan’s hand squeezing your injury, “Right we did,” you said as you placed your hand on his shoulder, making sure to dig your nails enough to make him uncomfortable. “He’s delightful to work with,” somehow you managed to make that sound honest rather than sarcastic. “He’s especially good at measuring and mixing.” 
Arkalis seemed pleased with your praising of his son, and you thought they might start talking more the more pleased he was, especially since his wine wasn’t refilling fast enough. In fact, every single person in the room seemed to be drinking moderately, as if they were trying to keep their heads clear for whatever surprise they were talking about earlier. 
“We’ve been friends ever since, haven’t we Ev?” you added with a charming smile.
“Right,” Evan added, “Best friends.” 
Arkalis seemed pleased with the response, your father still looked irritated over the fact that you hadn’t told him about your friendship with Evan, even more so since he thought you lied to him earlier when you said you and Evan were light years away from becoming friends. The rest of the table seemed to buy your lie, except for Regulus who was looking at you with a rather anxious look on his face. While he didn’t know everything Evan had done to you, he had a pretty good idea of some of the things based on things he had heard at the Slytherin table. 
You smiled shortly and then someone who you didn’t recognize said something to Arkalis and drew the conversation away from the two of you. Evan leaned over, “What the hell are you playing at?” he asked. 
“I’m playing my role as a nice guest, how about you play the one of a nice host and we pretend we don’t hate each other’s guts for the night?” you retorted. “Your father seemed pleased enough about our friendship or whatever.” 
“You shouldn’t have come tonight.” 
“As if I wanted to,” you scoffed and turned back to listening to the adult’s conversation, they were now going on about the Ministry of Magic. They mentioned something about how he was now doing exactly what he was meant to do and you felt chills run down your spine when you spotted Voldemort’s smile. 
The Ministry is on his hands, no wonder there is no news about him on the daily prophet. Just how many deatheaters are out there? All infiltrated on normal day jobs and working towards making the world a much darker place… the idea was horrifying, and yet everyone at the table seemed incredibly pleased with it. 
Eventually, you finished dinner, Tom was the first one to stand and he said something about it being time for a show. At this point, you dreaded finding out whatever the hell was his idea of entertainment, from what you’d heard, it couldn’t have been good. 
You were on your way towards the exit, trying to find Regulus again when Arkalis walked beside you and offered you his arm, “Darling, would you mind talking to me for a second?” he asked, using a charm similar, but not nearly as masterful as the one Voldemort had. 
You looked around trying to find Regulus, of course, Arkalis had asked, but the way he had said it was enough for you to know that it wasn’t actually an option to say ‘no’. Reggie was a few feet from you and he sent you another anxious glance before Orion intercepted him. 
“Sure, of course,” you replied as you felt Arkalis’ hand over your shoulder, urging you for an answer, you hooked your hand in his and followed him to a different room, completely missing the absolutely terrified look on Evan’s face. 
“How may I be of help to you, Mr. Rosier?” You asked calmly, whatever reason Arkalis had to bring you to the library, it was not intending to hurt you, at least you hoped it wasn’t. And the chances were low since it would be a very stupid decision to make considering who your father was, and how close he seemed to be to Orion, who, you had concluded, was closer to Voldemort than Arkalis, even if they had studied together. 
Whether you liked it or not, your parents’ connection to Orion Black, was the reason you were safe in this party. 
“You’re friends with Evan, correct?”
You heard a shuffling at the end of the room, turning to look but finding nothing, you narrowed your eyes in that direction only for a second before turning back to Arkalis, he didn’t look like an overly patient man, “Indeed.” 
“Excellent,” he said with a nod and then smiled, a smile so warm and kind that you might have bought his good intentions if you hadn’t been deterred by the thing that left his mouth afterwards, “You would tell me if he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing, right?” 
Like threatening to throw me off the astronomy tower, choke me and throw me off my broom along with his boyfriend? Sure, you thought. 
“Something he shouldn’t be doing?” You played dumb, that seemed to always do the trick for people like Arkalis. 
“I’ve heard some rumours about my son.” 
Rumours? You wondered. Whatever the hell is he–
“People have been saying he’s really close to a boy in school.” 
“Evan has many friends,” you responded, just now guessing what Arkalis could mean. 
“Closer than that,” he told you. “It’s a… deviation that happens to muggle men often?” 
Fucking hell, you thought when you realised what he meant. Arkalis wants to know if Evan is gay, but the way he approached the subject, using the words “deviation” and “muggle” with such derision.  You tilted your head slightly, trying not to look offended by his homophobia. 
“I’m not sure I understand, Sir, Evan has many friends.” 
“I mean, does he have a boyfriend?” Arkalis asked. 
There it is. You played surprised at that. You heard another movement on the side, “Oh, Merlin no!” you said surprised. “I would definitely know if Evan had a boyfriend,” you said, trying to sound as confident as possible. It wasn’t completely a lie, you did know. 
Then you felt Arkalis trying to prickle at your mind, looking for something, inside of it, the truth, you realised. And then you gave him what he wanted to see. You used every single ounce of mental power to conjure up one image and one image only. Evan pushing you against the railing of the Astronomy tower, hand in your throat and leaning onto you, the same way it had happened then except, there was no one else, and rather than lean over to threaten you, Evan was leaning over to kiss you. 
You tried to hold your thoughts of disgust at the image being projected on your mind as much as possible, but you knew that, at least that scene, would get Arkalis off of Evan’s back for a while. 
No, you didn’t like Evan, you’d go as far as to say that you hated his guts, but no matter how much hate you harboured for the blond, you would never out him, let alone to a clearly abusive and homophobic father like Arkalis. Take it as the good deed of the day, you thought as you used memories of kisses with Sirius to make the scene more realistic. 
Eventually, Arkalis stopped digging inside your mind and you felt relief wash over you, allowing the horrifying image of kissing Evan Rosier to dissolve. Arkalis pulled back with a pleased smile. “What a deceptive little thing,” he said as he looked at you with a smirk and grabbed onto your jaw to pull your head up slightly. You gave him an innocent look in return, as if you had no idea what he was talking about. 
Does he know I’m trying to trick him? Did he notice?, you wondered as you moved your hand towards your dress pocket to try and find your wand. 
“Pardon?” You asked meekly. 
“We all thought you were dating Orion’s eldest son,” he said Sirius’ name with scorn, and you had the urge to spit on his face, you somehow managed to hold back.  
“I am dating Sirius,” you replied with an innocent frown, voice still soft, still playing a part, Arkalis had to think you had no idea he had dug inside your mind. 
His smile just widened, “Of course, my bad,” he said with a smile and pulled his hand away from your face. “If you see Evan tell him I’m proud of him. He’s got a good eye for women.” 
You swallowed thickly but managed to give him a confused nod in response. It was meant to be a compliment, and yet it made you want to puke, you definitely did not like Arkalis better than you did Evan. You didn’t even like him better than you liked Barty. 
“Uhm… of course, Sir,” you replied, still playing dumb, his smile grew wider and he bowed his head before exiting the room. 
When he was gone you allowed yourself to sigh, shutting your eyes as you thought over everything that had happened. And then you felt a hand in your arm, gripping tightly, just like he had back in potions class. 
“What the hell was that about?” Evan asked from behind, he looked absolutely baffled. 
“Oh, Evan, you were the one eavesdropping then,” you replied with a sigh and shoved your arm to try and pry his hands off of it. So fucking handsy, you thought as you remembered his father’s stupid hands on your jaw. “Do you mind?” 
Evan seemed just as puzzled and slightly angry now too, and while he didn’t let go of you entirely, he did loosen his grip, which you were thankful for. “Why did you–? What the hell did you tell my father?” 
“You know, the right way to express what you’re feeling right now is to say thank you,” you replied annoyed, you hadn’t saved his ass for him to be a total asshole about it. 
He finally let your arm go completely and passed a hand through his hair, “What I mean to say is, you know about me and Barty, you could have told him, gotten rid of the two of us in an instant, my father would have probably sent me abroad to some other school if he found out and yet you… made him assume I like a woman?” 
You sighed, “Look, Evan. I don’t like you, okay? You’ve been an asshole to me from the fucking start and frankly, I wish I could beat the fuck out of you sometimes, but there are lines that I’m not willing to cross. No matter how much of an asshole you are, I would never out someone just because I dislike them, let alone to someone like your father.” And then you scoffed, “Muggle-deviation, fucking hell, just say gay.”  
Evan was speechless after that, he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or if he even should. Perhaps he really should thank you for covering for him, but even that would feel empty. What you had done might have been one of the nicest things anyone had done for him in his entire life, but how could an enemy be the one to do that? 
“I– I mean I–” 
You sighed again, “Just… leave it,” you said and left the room, and an incredibly confused Evan inside of it. 
Evan disliked you, he disliked you for throwing a Quaffle on Barty’s face and breaking his beautiful nose, he hated you for being a know-it-all, he hated you for being good at quidditch and he hated you for being such a self-righteous prick who considered herself better than him. He hated you for constantly teasing Barty and Mulciber and Snape, he hated you for how reckless you were and for picking up fights with people who were bigger and stronger without backing down from them. And his whole idea of you was crumbling down because he wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing in your position. If he knew how to destroy you, would he have hesitated? 
Would he have saved you too?
Evan sank to the floor and started to cry, he wasn’t sure if the thick salty drops falling from his eyes were from angry or relieved tears. He didn’t know why he was crying, he just knew he couldn’t stop. The complexity of his emotions churned within him. You had the power to vanish him, you could have told his dad and the one bit of happiness he’d found would have been gone in an instant. He wouldn’t have seen Barty ever again. 
Did you even know how much you had done for him in that 5-minute talk you’d had with Arkalis? 
Years of hiding, years of being careful, years of feeling like he was wrong, and that what he liked was poisonous, deserving of mistreatment and scorn, years of dreading his father finding something, anything that could out him. All gone in a small little chat, where you barely even fucking spoke. The smile Arkalis had made, the relief in his eyes –the acceptance– that made Evan want to cry even more. Because no matter how great he was, no matter how perfect he was, he would never, ever be truly accepted by his father. Never would he make him as happy as you had by implying to him he liked a girl. 
He was miserable, and out of all people, you had been the one to make his sorrow, even if it was just slightly, less painful, less burdensome and less suffocating. 
Yet, despite the relief, Evan couldn't shake the lingering bitterness that consumed him. He resented you for knowing his weak spot, and yet, beneath the layer of resentment and anger, there was a tiny ember of gratitude, a flicker of acknowledgement for the unexpected reprieve you had granted him. As he sat there, tears staining his cheeks, he wasn’t sure he could continue hating you anymore. 
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A/N: This might be one of my favourite chapters to write. I really like those emotionally charged scenes, but you've probably already noticed. Also, even antagonistic characters have feelings and boy, do some of them run deep... Poor Evan (I told you guys I did like the Slytherin boys, but the rivalry still exists. Even if, to their different points of view, the villain might just be, well: us. Love, Lils xx
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amourane · 6 hours
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sleepless nights
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pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
genre: tooth rotting fluff
w/c: 0.9k
summary: all remus wants is to make sure you're okay and the best way to make you feel better - cuddles.
warnings: none just you and remus cuddling!
a/n: i could actually combust at how cute this is
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Remus watched as your shallow breathing made your chest go up and down. You were leaning on your folded arms, eyes closed in a peaceful sleep. He had only gone to the kitchens to get a quick cup of hot cocoa to wake the both of you up and he had come back to this. 
He knew you were feeling extra tired lately, especially with NEWTS coming up. The two of you had made Tuesday study time a weekly thing and Remus was more than happy to help you out. The stress had taken a toll on everyone but you took it especially hard. He recalled the nights where you wouldn’t sleep a wink and sometimes skipped meals. 
It was nice to finally see you get some rest.
He slipped back onto his chair, careful not to wake you up. There’s an unfinished essay in front of you and he glanced over at his finished work. Remus smiled and leaned in to kiss your forehead, picking up your essay and his quill.
Considering he had already finished his, yours was easy to complete. 
Remus stroked your hair, happy that you were finally able to relax. It worried him to see you under such pressure, he was always making sure you weren’t overworking yourself too much.
The library was quiet as it was already quite late in the evening. Only a few people were left and since the both of you had picked a secluded corner to study, no one was around you. He checked the clock and saw curfew nearing. The candle that the both of you lit was already dying down, so it was time to get back to the dormitories. 
“Y/n?” He whispered and when he saw you shuffle a bit he placed a hand on your lower back. “Y/n, sweetheart, it’s time to get up.”
You rubbed your eyes blindly, blinking a few times. “Did I fall asleep?” 
Remus nodded his head as he packed both of your stuff into his bag before quickly slinging it over his shoulder. You swayed sleepily in your seat and your boyfriend couldn’t help but feel his heart crack at the obvious exhaustion you felt.
“Remmy.” You mumbled groggily, word slurring together. “Really tired, ‘m so tired.”
“I know sweetheart, c’mere.” 
He stretched his arms out and you collapsed into his chest. The familiar scent of parchment and ink mixed with his cologne intoxicated your senses. The hug lasted a few minutes and you wrapped your arms around him tighter, not wanting to let go. 
“Can we cuddle?” You asked.
“Course we can.” He turned around and offered you a piggyback ride back to the dorm. You accepted graciously. Even if Remus looked skinny there was muscle under those clothes. “Finished your essay for you, my love.”
You hummed, placing your head in the crook of his neck. 
“Gotta take it easy Y/n.” He sighed. “Promise you’ll rest for the next few days?”
You could hear the concern in his voice and it broke your heart. “I’ll promise if you’ll be next to me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll never leave your side.” 
The Common Room is filled with quiet chattering but it was mostly blocked out because you were already asleep on your boyfriend’s back when you entered. You heard the familiar voices of Sirius and Peter talking to Remus.
“Is she alright?” Peter asked and you could picture the worried face he always seemed to wear.
“She’s fine, just needs a bit of rest.” Your boyfriend replied.
“We won’t disturb the both of you, have a good night.” Sirius said.
Soon enough, the warm feeling of the bed hit your body and you opened your eyes slightly to see yourself in Remus’ bed. Remus in question was tucking you in before tugging off his shirt. You had managed to convince him that body heat was transferred more effectively if he was shirtless and not that you liked to cuddle into his naked chest. He had been doing it ever since. 
He gave you a chaste kiss on your lips and climbed in with you. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and gave you a smile. You shuffled closer into him and he wrapped his arms around your body.
The silence was comforting and you didn't have to say anything for Remus to understand. He placed a kiss on your cheek, letting you sleep. The steady heartbeat was the lullaby you needed to soothe your thoughts. Your boyfriend closed his eyes as well, holding you close as the both of you fell into a dreamy sleep in each other's arms. 
It was about an hour later that James came stumbling through the door, knocking a few things in the process. You, not being a particularly deep sleeper, woke up at the subtle noises. James stared at you and you saw Sirius poke his head around the door.
“Mate, I told you to be quiet.” He hissed quietly.
“Sorry.” James frowned, lowering his voice. “I’m really sorry Y/n.” 
“It’s okay.” You muttered before facing your beautiful boyfriend. Remus was deep asleep and you felt your heart swell. He was always so caring and so attentive of you. Everything about him was perfect.
“We’ll leave you two alone.” Sirius said, pulling James out of the dorm.
You heard the door click shut, still staring at your boyfriend. You placed a kiss on his cheek before snuggling closer into him, absorbing his warmth from his body. 
When the rest of the boys come in they make sure to be extra quiet. They looked at the happy couple cuddling, both asleep in each other's arms, in perfect harmony. Sirius stared at his best friend and then you. 
“They really should get married.” Peter piped up.
“They will.” Sirius’ eyes landed on the bedside table next to Remus’ bed, already knowing what was inside. “Soon.”
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luveline · 8 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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ellecdc · 14 days
Text
Surprise! We're Making Love
6.8k words
this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.
this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy
Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.
Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.
“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.
“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”
You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.
Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.
Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.
“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”
He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.
“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.
“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”
You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.
“Fine, turn around.”
Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.
“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”
Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.
He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.
What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.
“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.
“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”
Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”
You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”
And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.
Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.
Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.
“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.
“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”
Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.
“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”
Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.
He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.
Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.
But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.
He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.
He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.
“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 
He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.
“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.
“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.
“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.
“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.
“Help?”
“Right.”
You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.
“What exactly are you to help me with?”
“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.
You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”
Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.
Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.
All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.
He was fucking good in bed.
So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.
Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.
Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.
He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.
“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.
“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”
You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.
Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.
He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.
“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.
He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”
You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”
Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”
You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.
“Are we friends now?”
“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.
“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.
“Blood status, really L/N?”
You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”
It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.
“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”
“Perhaps we can be the first.”
“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”
Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”
And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.
“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”
“Likewise.”
And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.
There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.
Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.
“Let him go.” You said simply.
Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.
“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.
Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.
“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.
“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.
Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.
“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.
Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.
“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.
Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.
His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.
He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.
“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.
“This way.”
“L/N.”
“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.
Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.
“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.
“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.
“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 
“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”
Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 
Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.
“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 
“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?
Did he want you to stop?
“No.” He admitted.
Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.
He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.
“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.
“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”
And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 
“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.
“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 
He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.
“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”
You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 
“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”
“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
“Working on it.”
You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.
“Cum for me, L/N.”
“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.
“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.
You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 
“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.
Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.
“You have no idea.”
And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 
Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.
Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.
The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 
“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.
“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.
“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”
Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.
Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.
“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.
“Put me down!” You shouted.
“No.” 
“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 
“You’re fine, L/N.”
You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.
“Stop it.”
“Put me down!”
“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.
“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.
“That’s alright.”
You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 
Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 
This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 
He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 
That's what he’d tell himself for now.
It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.
“Stop me.”
“You stopped me first.”
You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 
“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.
Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.
“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”
“Okay.” He offered readily.
“I want it to stop.”
“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to forget.”
“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”
And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.
Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 
You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 
“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.
You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 
“I’m right here.”
And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.
You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 
You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.
Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.
“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 
You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.
“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”
This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.
Not then, at least.
“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”
He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 
So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.
But maybe…
Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.
Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.
Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 
Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.
Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.
Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.
And fuck.
He needed you.
Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.
One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.
He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 
This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.
You were friends.
You were friends who helped each other.
You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 
You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.
You were friends.
That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.
And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.
It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 
It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 
It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 
It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 
It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.
It ached for you to stay.
He wanted you to stay.
But you guys were friends.
And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 
So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.
He ached for you.
And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.
He didn’t just ache for you.
He yearned for you.
He loved you.
He was in love with you.
And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 
He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 
He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.
There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 
And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.
The jig was up.
He had been outed. 
Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 
You knew.
Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.
This was it, it was all going to be over.
He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 
Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 
He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.
He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.
Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.
He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.
He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 
That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.
You never asked for it.
You never offered it.
He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 
He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.
What a fucking mess.
He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.
He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.
“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.
“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”
Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.
He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?
You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.
“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.
“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”
He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.
He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.
He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.
“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 
Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.
You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”
“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.
“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.
“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.
“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.
“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.
But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?
“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.
“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.
“Anything.” He whispered.
I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.
I’m already all yours.
“I need to pee.” You said plainly.
Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.
“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”
Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.
“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).
“Always.”
And he kept that promise.
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underoospeterparker · 4 months
Note
HIII
can you please write remus lupin with grumpy x sunshine trope !! also, glad you're coming back. i hope you are doing well 🫂
dropped everything (and i mean EVERYTHING) to write this and i think it's one of my best ! and thank you lovely i am doing well hru?
grumpy!remus lupin x sunshine!fem!reader
"Why the annoyed look, Moons?" Sirius laughed, nudging his best friend. "Problems in paradise?"
Remus shoved him away, but Sirius still looked smug. Remus took a sip from his beer to try and attempt at staying calm.
"He's so grumpy all the time," James slurred, wrapping an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Don't know how his girlfriend deals with him," he said, something that sounded like a snort escaping his mouth. "He still gets all the girls."
"He does," Sirius said, a solemn look on his face. The corner of Remus's lips twitched in amusement.
"It's not my fault the two of you still can't get girls," he replied flatly, finally acknowledging his best friends.
"Remus!" you shouted, halfway through the crowd.
He heard your voice and in a second, he had turned to the crowd to search for you, not even telling his friends where he was going. "Move," he said to someone blocking his path, voice filled with disdain.
"Sorry, man," the guy said, clearly not sorry at all.
He spotted you, and abandoned the half-conversation entirely. He immediately leaned down to wrap you in a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head.
"Hi, sweetheart," he murmured when you pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands.
"Hi, Rem," you said excitedly. "Where's Sirius and James?"
He took you to them, rather reluctantly. It was selfish of him, yes, but he had to admit that sometimes, he just wanted to keep you all to himself.
"Hi, guys," you exclaimed, a huge smile on your face as you greeted them. They responded with equally enthusiastic greetings and you sat down happily.
When you had settled down again, you whispered in Remus's ear, "I missed you today."
Remus grinned, and James and Sirius looked at the two of you, incredulous. A smile like that? From Remus? It was extremely rare, that was for sure. "I missed you too," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.
When you and Remus finally turned back to Remus's best friends, they were gaping at the two of you, not even attempting to hide their shock.
"What happened?" you said, voice cautious and gaze glancing from James to Sirius and then back again. "Did I do something wrong?"
Remus was quick to reassure you. "No, honey, you did nothing wrong." He paused. "Just these two being pricks again."
"Yeah, okay," Sirius said, voice exaggerated. "Says you, Moony."
You tried and failed to hide a laugh.
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kquil · 11 months
Text
REMUS LUPIN | 15:09 ⏤NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER
SUM. : you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute
G. : obvious secret admirer reader ; flustered remus ; reader is adorable but shy ; remus is insecure ; james, sirius and peter being a tease ; fluff
LENGTH : 1.2k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
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The first time Remus noticed you, he thought you were staring at the man beside him instead, boisterously laughing away at a comment James made. It was a common occurance to see cute girls longingly pinning after one of his best friends from a distance because why wouldn’t that be the case? Sirius had the looks, the attitude, the charms, he had everything. And, although Remus was happy for his friend, he couldn’t help but feel slightly tortured over the fact that some who had such a darling look about them fell for such a notorious playboy. 
Before he could stop himself, Remus pointed you out to Sirius, who immediately turned towards you, eager to send a flirtatious wink your way but quickly realised the slight misalignment of your gaze. Following your stare, a slow smirk took over his dashing features.
“Nah, she’s staring at you mate,” Sirius chuckles, relishing in his tall friend’s shocked and flustered expression.
“No way that’s true…” Remus uttered. He hardly gains any attention because of his visible scars, he can’t imagine such a cute girl giving him such courtesy. 
“See for yourself,” Sirius prompts with a subtle nod in your direction. He’s a little impressed by how lost in the moment you were, staring at Remus with such a yearning stare, he feels a little swell of pride in his chest knowing that his friend had such a devoted admirer, “look at her and if you meet eyes instantly then she's staring at you, not me. Bonus if she gets flustered and acts like she wasn't looking in the first place,” 
“Fine…” still in disbelief over the fact that he had an admirer, Remus turned in your direction, confident that you would not react in the way Sirius had described. 
“You’ve got a sweet one there Moony,” Sirius teased, preparing for the usual shove to push his shoulder back but it never came. 
You reacted exactly as Sirius had described and Remus couldn’t believe just how cute you were.
After that small encounter, Remus has noticed you more and more often. It’s come to the point where the other marauders had begun teasing him by pointing you out in the sea of students whenever they happened to spot you.  
“Hey look, it’s your missus, Moony,” Sirius grinned, pointing at you during dinner, “give her some sugar, will you?” 
“Don’t look now but I can see future Mrs Lupin staring at her beloved for the 1000th time today,” James directed Remus’ attention to you staring at him while walking to a class, hugging your books to your chest, “I wonde-'' James began but was cut off when he and the rest of the marauders saw you bump into another student with a squeak. You had been so distracted with your staring that you neglected to look where you were going. Could you get any more adorable?
“It’s your wife, Moony, don’t be shy now and say hello,” Peter jabbed at Remus’ side with a toothy grin, brows jumping up and down in suggestion.
They all deserved being hit upside the head for their teasing but they persisted; they knew Remus had grown a unique fondness for you too and, despite their frequent playful taunting, at some point they worried that Remus would soon grow tired of you but his affection only seemed to grow more instead. Soon enough, they found out that you were a year below them and a Ravenclaw who, naturally, spent a lot of her time in the library studying. 
In support of their friend, the boys sacrificed more time hanging out at the library so that Remus and you could have your moment together. That moment being more like stolen glances from across the room when the other wasn’t looking. 
It started off cute but now it was just pure frustration for all the marauders but Remus.
Clearly there could be something between you two but you didn’t know that you had caught Remus’ attention and Remus was too afraid to confront you himself, his insecurities winning over the obvious fact that you liked him. They did their best to tempt Remus into making a move but he was stubborn and stood his ground; the boys grew terribly close to pulling out patches of their own hair. 
Remus doesn’t ever act on his desires. For a very long time, he has discouraged himself from doing things he wants to do simply because he doesn't think he deserves to be happy. Because he is a monster. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up and he doesn't believe he could be a boyfriend that you so clearly deserve. You need someone present, who won’t keep secrets, who can provide a good future for you and that someone wasn’t him. You’re very cute and your dream-like staring is flattering but Remus couldn’t do something so cruel to you. 
“I’m sure she will understand, Moony,” Sirius reassures as the four of them walk to their next class. 
“Yeah, we don’t care for your furry little problem, and as your future wife, neither would she,” James adds as Peter nods along beside him. 
“Stop it,” Remus demands in a soft tone. He knows they mean well but his decision is final, he’s staying away from you. 
“Ah!” a squeal followed by the thudding of fallen books relays the sudden force that collides with Remus’ torso. The boys notice something far earlier than he did and have jumped away without being noticed, leaving Remus to panic as he realises who you are and what had just happened. 
Immediately kneeling down, Remus helps you collect up your books and other equipment, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, are you alright?” Remus rambled, his eyes searching your figure for any sign of injury; he knows he’s a big, tall guy and with his infliction had an unassuming strength behind his lanky figure so he was worried. Thankfully you seemed okay.
It doesn’t take long for you to realise who you had bumped into and were forced into a trance as your movements slowed and restored to what you were used to doing - staring at the man of your affections in awe. There’s something about Remus Lupin that draws your eye. As a prefect, he’s already well respected and carries a dignified air about him that contrasts endearingly to his soft appearance. 
He’s really pretty and handsome, so much so that his scars never take away from his looks, instead the marred skin adds to his unique charms. You adore how smart he is, you love his smile, love that he smells like chocolate whenever he walks past, love the way his hands look when he’s reading a book - you adore him. But you’ve always been too shy to confront anyone and that included Remus, so you settled for keeping your distance and admired him from afar only. 
Now that you were forced into such an innocuous but incredibly intimate interaction with him, you don’t know what to do. You let him guide you back up to your feet and hand you back your small pile of books. He’s smiling at you and saying words you couldn’t hear because you were just so enamoured. 
“You’re really pretty…” you whisper with admiration in your eyes and love in your voice, realising too late what you had said aloud and running off in embarrassment, desperately uttering your apologies as you go. 
With the tips of his ears glowing red, Remus stares off at your retreating figure with a soft smile on his lips.
‘Maybe I should ask her out…’ 
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A/N : remus is too pretty for his own good, ami right or am i right?
NAVI. | PART 2
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milesmoralesluvs · 5 months
Text
james: i didn't do it!
y/n: really? you expect me to believe that?
remus: maybe you should take his word for it
y/n: ...
james: ...
remus: ...
remus: i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me.
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madwcman · 18 days
Note
sending a request for remus x reader, where reader is an anxious little bean and is constantly thinking, fidgeting, etc. and Remus is really good at grounding her because he's cool, calm, and collected, and also obsessed with her. maybe reader has a hard time expressing how she feels back (she's obsessed) as well because words are hard, but remus is just like "I know." and reader can relax just a little because she believes him. does that make sense? appreciate it!!
a/n: thank you for requesting!! it’s not exactly what you asked for but still fits.
pairing: remus lupin x anxious! reader
it’s been a long and stressful morning for you. you woke up late, missed out on breakfast, can’t help but feel as you misplaced and lost a few school things, you feel on edge and it’s bothering you terribly this morning.
you sigh as you make it on time to herbology. you take your seat next to remus who gives you a soft smile. “rough morning?” he questions quietly, you shake your head hurriedly. not in the mood for speaking at the moment. remus hums in acknowledgement as he sets down something in front of you.
looking down you see your herbology book. you knew you forgot something, but you couldn’t figure out what on your way to class. you’re glad remus knew. you smile at the thought of remus thinking of you. “i knew i was forgetting something.” you mumble more to yourself than to remus, but he can’t help but laugh lightly. “you forgot it in the common room.” remus informs you.
you want to thank remus, but you don’t know how, you could always just politely say thank you. but you feel as if just a simple “thank you” is not enough for remus always helping you out and always being there for you.
“remus,” you mumble quietly, you try to put the words together so it sounds how you want to in your head, but you always struggle getting the words out. “i know.” he whispers, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly, as your teacher walks into the classroom.
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bettysupremacy · 16 days
Note
Hi lovie!!! I love ur fics! I would love to see a Remus fic with an inexperienced gf! Not smut but like the convo before it like May be she's super anxious bc she's worried she won't make Remus feel good or like what if Remus hates the way she looks?? And Remus is reassuring her
thankkk youu for the request he’s so cute, 17+ just cause it’s a lil suggestive yanno
When Remus had asked you to stay the night through bleary eyes after the movie had ended, you hadn’t had the strength to say no. When he leaned in to kiss you, his knee nestled between your thighs, you knew you made the right decision.
His kisses were soft and breathless, growing more intense as you moved beneath him. He was warm and broad, hard to quit.
His hand grazes your thigh now, though you know better than to think of it as intention. He pulls up, trailing wet kisses down your cheek and neck. You gasp, tugging on his brown hair.
“I’ve never..”
He buries in your neck. He smells like warm vanilla and books. Maybe cedar. You dunno, you’re not a chemist.
“Been touched?” He asks innocently. His tone almost makes you smile.
His lips are pink and swollen from his attack on you. You swipe at the corner softly and he turns his head to kiss the pad of your thumb. He’s sweet, and his smile afterwards is stupid. He’s awful.
“Yeah.” You murmur, looking down at where his hand falls flat over your sock. Your knee had been hiked up in the frenzy. His hand roams up from your sock to hold your knee.
“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything till you’re ready.”
You nod, looking him in the eyes. His are soft and round. “But what if you don’t.. like it?”
“That’s very vague,” he smiles at you a little. “like what?”
“Me,” you’re almost silent. “Or like.. when we’re doing.. it..”
He wants to laugh but he doesn’t want to upset you. “I wouldn’t care about that either.”
“My body?”
He shakes his head adamantly. “Do you know what I look like?”
He eyes his scars. They run over his body, weaving through each other at times. You don’t care about them, don’t let your eyes wonder. You found yourself doing it at times when you first met him, almost immediately looking away guilty. You weren’t judgmental of the puffy lines that run through him, just curious.
“I’ve never cared about that.” Your eyebrows furrow.
“Exactly,” he pushes some hair away from your eyes. “Why would I?”
You nod, breathing out. He’s right and you know it. He wouldn’t shy away from the meat of your tummy or the happy trail under your belly button. Wouldn’t gawp at your thighs or the swell of your breasts.
Well, maybe he would, but for different reasons.
“I want to do that.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Right now?”
“Um,” you murmur, eyes falling away from him.
“That’s okay too.”
He’s very genuine, grasping your jaw in his hand. He just wants to look at you. That’s it. Your eyes and your nose, your cheeks and your lips. They’re as pink as his, also puffy, slightly swollen. He smiles at the sight, dipping to drop his forehead against yours. He exhales softly, nudging the bridge of his nose against yours. It’s a quiet moment before you speak.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
You nod, shying away from his eyes again, leaning up toward him.
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, mouth dangerously close to yours to be asking that question. Yet, you know if you said no he’d move away.
“Mhm.”
He dips back down, softer than before. You don’t know what to do with your hands, reaching up to hold his cheeks softly. You can feel the skin of his face move into a smile.
“Can I..” he starts slowly, dropping down for a slow kiss before continuing. “Do this?”
He reaches his broad hand to the hem of your shirt, nudging it up a little. Your tummy flips as he looks back up for confirmation. You nod, and he pushes his hand under, not roaming too far. He holds himself accountable, stopping right under the band of your bra. His hips lower too. You can feel him against you as he holds you closer, kissing deeper.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, if not to himself, to you. “I’ll be gentle.”
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ohwowimlonley · 11 months
Note
I uh, came here from the stepbro!Siri with a corruption kink... I was wondering if you could do more stepbro!Siri? But uhm maybe like "stepbro!Siri x reader +best friend mooney" ? If you're uncomfortable with this request, you can just ignore this... I also wanted to know if I could be Anon ✨?
Omg I’m so sorry this took me so long and of course you can be an anon if you want to lovely
Also this is unfinished so ask for another part if u want :)
Smut below the cut
“Hey there sweetheart,” your step brother calls to you, spreading his legs further across the sofa and patting his knee in invitation, “why don’t you come n’ sit with me and Moony for a bit, hey?”
You try to move towards them as confidently as possible, but your trembling hands and adverted gaze betrays you. You fall gracelessly into the arms of the shaggy-haired man, holding back a surprises giggle at the way his nose tickles against your neck.
“Isn’t she just the cutest, Moons?” You can feel the smirk of your step brother widen against your warmed cheeks, your embarrassment heightened by how he speaks about you like you’re not even in the room.
“She’s really something,” comes the drawl of the other man, his hand creeping up your exposed thigh, exploring the skin with languid strokes. Your body instinctively leans into his touch as his nimble fingers reach toward the hem of your skirt, simultaneously pushing up and shying away from his touch, “a shy one though, huh?”
“She’ll warm up to her soon enough, mate,” Sirius assures, one hand moving to boldly rest on your right breast, almost a show of his ownership of you, “only took her two days before she started crawling into my bed ‘nd begging for it,”
Remus makes a humming sound of approval at that, finally garnering eye contact with you and raising an eyebrow and tapping your thigh, waiting for your approval before diving his hand beneath your skirt, stroking his cold fingers up and down your uncovered pussy lips.
“No panties?” The grin on his face usurpes the disappointment in his tone. Sirius let’s out an incredulous scoff.
“Please, she hasn’t worn panties since the first day I fucked her,” his hand slips beneath your shirt and his fingers start flicking over your nipples, “always wants to be fucked now, the poor thing. She’ll probably get even more greedy now she’s got two of us,”
“Siri?” You crane your neck to finally make eye contact with him. Both boys cease their movements to watch you, intrigued by what you’d say while speaking for the first time in the night, “what- what do you mean two of us?”
“Well darling,” he smooths a kiss to the crown of your head, “moony over here needs someone to take care of him, doesn’t he? You don’t want him to get lonely, do you?”
You don’t even have to think about it; you shake your head with a pout. Remus seems nice, and his fingers are working wonders on your clit, his movements now resumed as Sirius talks.
“Well, I said that moony can fuck you sometimes, y’know, to help us all out,” he shrugs, spreading your legs further out on his lap so he can get a good glimpse of your pussy as Remus works it over.
“I promise I’ll be good to you, pretty girl,” the taller boy adjusts himself until his cheek rests against the inside of your thigh, so close to your cunt that his tongue scrapes across your clit with every word from his mouth, “so long as you follow my rules,”
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pasukiyo · 12 days
Text
WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING
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remus lupin x f!reader word count; 2,224 summary; even just the smallest things remus lupin did was enough to have your belly full with butterflies. you trace it all back at three thirty a.m. to find that something that night turned in your heart...
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 “I don’t understand how you can call yourself a bookworm yet, you haven’t read a single Jane Austen book.”
 Remus casted his gaze to the ground beneath their feet and smiled sheepishly, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Does that discount my self-proclaimed ‘bookworm’ title?” He asked and she huffed, rubbing her palm up and down the expanse of her opposite arm when London’s autumn breeze snuck like a phantom beneath her coat. 
 “Perhaps,” she replied as Remus closed the small distance between them. “You should at least…” she trailed off when his arm slithered its way around hers and warmth pooled in her cheeks when he guided her hand in his coat pocket. She blinked a glance his way to find he already stared, waiting expectantly for the rest of her answer. 
 How could he be so casual while touching her like so?
 “…read Pride and Prejudice,” she managed to breathe through a shiver, his hand wrapped so tenderly around hers turning her brain to mush, a cocoon erupting somewhere deep in her belly, the warm, fluttery feeling of butterflies in her stomach making her feel light, airy. Remus said nothing, only simply gazed at her with a sentiment so warm and earth-shattering, she wondered if she’d melt and ooze like magma right there on the pavement in the midst of fall. 
 “Yeah?” He spoke and she turned away, willing herself to breathe. She hummed, nodding. “It’s a classic,” she replied, cursing her voice for sounding so meek. A lump had appeared in her throat and she forced it back down to her belly. 
 “Is it your favorite?” Remus asked, a gentle tug of his hand on hers to guide her around the corner. Her lips parted in a gasp at the subtlest of dominance, her heartbeat thundering so loud in her chest, she could hear it in her eardrums. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Remus’s face, wondering if he could hear it too. She swallowed again, “well, no. If I had to choose a favorite by Jane Austen, I’d have to go with Emma.”
 “Then why Pride and Prejudice?” He questioned and Merlin, it was such a simple inquiry, but even the mere notion that he was interested in what she was interested in made her feel like she’d catch on fire any moment now. Her palms suddenly felt clammy and she flushed, desperately hoping he could not feel the sweat that was surely beading them. 
 “Because I think it is the best introduction to her writing and style,” she answered as they neared her flat, dread already beginning to lace her bones like a poison. How foolish she’d become for Remus Lupin, how desperate she’d become to always have him in her sight.
 The longer she spent with Remus Lupin, the more she was beginning to realize that she craved spending time with him, craved their conversations, even their debates over books, whether coffee or tea was better. She loved when they’d stare at the stars at night, listening as he told her each and every single constellation’s story, when he laughed at her jokes and brushed her hair over her ear and told her she was brighter than any star in the entire sky. 
 “Is that right?” Remus’s voice sliced through the syrupy mush of her brain and she blinked, clearing her throat and nodding. “Yes,” she hummed. “And if you read it, I’ll let you borrow my heavily annotated copy of Emma.”
 Remus’s lips parted in a devastating smile that she had to tear her gaze away from before she quite literally turned to putty in the palm of his hand. She nodded, brushing an astray strand of hair behind her ear with the hand not in the pocket of Remus’s coat as they approached her flat building. Disappointment struck like an earthquake in her bones and she deflated as she forced herself to pull her hand away from his, lacing her fingers in front of her hips as she turned to face him. 
 “I must get to reading then,” he said and the corners of her lips twitched. “Glad to hear it,” she said in hardly a murmur. For a moment, a silence fell upon them, neither seemingly wanting to find a reason for the evening to end. 
 Eventually, she willed her eyes to find his, no matter how much his gaze made her want to draw herself into him, deep enough that she’d never be able to be pried away. 
 “I… had a really good time with you today, Remus,” she said, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. His smile only grew at that, a blush creeping onto his face, a light pink to contrast the fading red of his scars. “And I as well,” he replied before his eyes widened, as if remembering something he’d almost forgotten. “I almost forgot.”
 She blinked, watching as he rummaged through the pocket on the inside of his coat, revealing a small, light pink bouquet to match the blush on his cheeks. The flowers were a bit wilted, more than likely from being stuffed inside his pocket for too long. The dusty pink on his cheeks deepened into a rosy color, his smile sheepish as he held it out towards her. 
 “It’s a bit… well,” he tittered as she reached for the stems, the brief brush of their fingers igniting a spark, a ray of electricity surging through her veins. Her face was so hot now, she was certain she’d be reduced to an oozing stream of lava any second now. “Been in my pocket all day.”
 A laugh tumbled from her lips as she brushed the pad of her forefinger across one of the soft, pink petals, holding the bouquet close to her chest. 
 “They’re beautiful, Remus,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
 Remus stuffed his hands back in the pockets of his jeans again, kicking rocks around on the pavement. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl,” he said after a moment, as if he’d been mustering the courage to speak in the first place. “Seems only fair.”
 Her lips parted, unable to breathe for a moment, her heart beating so fast now, it was a miracle it hadn’t leaped out of her chest by now. She wasn’t even sure what to even say, what to do— Remus Lupin thought she was beautiful. 
 What was she even supposed to do with herself now?
 “Remus, I…” she trailed off, unsure what to say. Remus’s gaze lifted from the ground, surging into hers and her heart skipped a few beats, her stomach doing a couple of somersaults. She knew she’d never before felt the way she did now, never felt so tender, so warm, so foolish, enough that she felt like she could break into a dance right now without a single care in the world. 
 She realized she felt this way every time she was with Remus Lupin, like she could dance, sing, scream into the night without a mere thought. She felt like nothing else mattered, as if every idiotic thing she did no longer mattered when she was with him. She didn’t recognize herself when she was with Remus and she realized that it was because of him that she was becoming someone entirely brand new. 
 Somewhere deep down in her heart, she knew this change was meant to be. 
 “…I want to see you again,” she spoke breathlessly, chasing air back into her lungs with a rather large inhale. The warmth of the smile Remus gave her was enough to challenge the sun itself, even on its brightest day in the midst of summer. Truly earth-shattering a thing, Remus Lupin was. 
 “Of course,” he said, stepping in closer, leaning down until his lips could press against the apple of her cheek. She blinked, pressing her lips together to stifle her gasp as he ruffled the hair atop of her head, pulling away. “I want to see you again too. And that’s a promise.”
 She was frozen, turned to a statue by Remus’s lips like staring into Medusa’s eyes had done to people in the myths. She hardly remembered saying their goodbyes, watching as he disappeared further down the lamp lit street, hardly remembering her feet whisking her way up into her flat. 
 She hardly remembered unlocking the door, closing it behind her and locking it again. Hardly remembered putting the light pink bouquet in a vase, hardly even remembered getting herself ready for bed. 
 But she did remember lying awake that night. She remembered tossing and turning, staring into the darkness of her ceiling, turning to face the buildings on the other side of the street from her window, the moon peeking its head over the rooftops. She remembered watching it as if it were an old friend as it disappeared over the top of her window, remembering every ticking of the clock on the other side of the room. 
 Never once did her thoughts stray from Remus Lupin. She still remembered the first day they met, the first time she saw him in the park, sitting on the bench where the primroses grew, holding a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. She remembered him looking up and catching her eye, remembering how neither one of them seemed to be able to look away. 
 She was so bewildered, hardly believing she’d been able to catch his eye in the way that she did. She couldn’t believe that he wanted to talk to her, that he said that he wanted to see her again. She remembered the beating of her heart then, every single time he looked at her, talked to her, smiled at her. 
 She remembered their first date, when he took her stargazing, which she still was convinced was only so he could tell her about the constellations. He seemed so passionate then and she was so entranced, enthralled with the way he spoke. She still remembered the way her heart beat and fluttered around her chest when she felt his fingertips brush against her ear when he swiped away her hair, the way her eyes flickered to his lips when he tenderly told her she was brighter than any star.
 She sighed— how she regretted not listening to that voice inside of her head that told her to kiss him. 
 She could still feel the shape of Remus’s lips on her cheek from when he kissed her there earlier. His kiss haunted her, lingering like a phantom on her skin. 
 Remus Lupin haunted her, bewitched her as if he’d cast her under some sort of spell, until her every thought was of him. 
 She glanced over at the clock, just barely making out the time.
 Three thirty.
 Something began to shift from within and she sat up with a gasp at the realization that indeed, she was irrevocably, hopelessly, undoubtedly in love with Remus Lupin. 
 She practically leaped from her bed, uncertain what she was doing, unable to control herself. It seemed like foolish things were all she could do since she met Remus, such as picking up the phone, dialing in his phone, anxiously twirling the cord around her forefinger. 
 For Merlin’s sake, it was three thirty in the morning, why was she calling him?
 The phone rang for a few moments and she sighed— why did she expect him to pick up? He was asleep, she shouldn’t be bothering him like this—
 “Hello?”
 Remus’s groggy voice whispered through the receiver and her breathing hitched at the base of her throat. He picked up? 
 Her lips parted with the intent to speak but nothing came out— what was she even going to say?
 “Hello?” Remus said again, yawning. 
 She squeezed her eyelids shut, willing herself to just speak. 
 “Well… I’ll be hanging up now…”
 “I’m in love with you.”
 Silence. 
 For a moment, she wondered if he really had hung up, a flush warming her cheeks. She was about to put the phone down, to trudge back to her bed and wallow in the depths of her own despair, until he softly whispered her name, so faint, she almost didn’t quite catch it. 
 “Remus,” she whispered back, her vision glossing over with the bitter sting of tears. She crossed an arm over her chest, the heel of the hand not wrapped around the phone digging into her brow. “I’m sorry for waking you, I just… I just…”
 “You’re in love with me,” he said, repeating it as if to confirm it was real, as if he weren’t still sleeping and this wasn’t all just some cruel dream he’d be waking from. She sniffed, nodding, “I’m in love with you. And I wish you were here right now.”
 Another silence. 
 Her heart did a waltz around her chest even despite the anxiety bubbling like acid in her throat. Would he reject her? Did she read him wrong? Maybe she was really a fool after all, for thinking that he would love her back, that he would feel the same way she did. Perhaps this would be the last time she’d ever hear from him, perhaps she’d never see Remus Lupin ever again and will forever be haunted by what could’ve—
 “I’m in love with you too.”
 She blinked, speechless. 
  "I can be at your flat in ten minutes if I run.”
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a/n; a little rushed but i've always thought this song was just so remus coded :( i'm seeing laufey for the second time next week and i'm really hoping she performs this one! she didn't perform it for the u.s. bewitched tour and i'm still so salty 😭 hopefully there's other lauvers reading this and if not, i encourage you all to listen to the song that inspired this fic!
🎀 if you enjoyed this one, i would appreciate a reblog or even just a reply to let me know! thank you so much for reading! 🫶
TAGLIST
@pinktreee
@jxxey3
@iamthejam
@strangerfromketterdam
@burns-in-the-sun
@cancelledkaley
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Text
When the Levee Breaks
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader
tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader
NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption
random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol
word count: 6.4k
hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶
You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 
At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 
“Antsy?” 
“No.” 
He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.
“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 
Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 
“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 
“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 
“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 
“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 
He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”
Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 
A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”
“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 
You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 
He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.
“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.
You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 
He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 
“Oh, Rem. You should know…”
“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 
“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 
“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 
“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”
He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 
“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 
“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.
“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 
“Yeah,” you exhale. 
“I don’t remember that happening.”
“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 
He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 
Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 
You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 
“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”
“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  
“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 
You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”
Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 
“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.
“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 
He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 
He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.
“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 
“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 
You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”
You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.
“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.
“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 
He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 
“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.
“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 
“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 
1971: the year you met. 
He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 
“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 
“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 
It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.
“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.
“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 
“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.
“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 
“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.
“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”
“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.
“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.
Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.
“Ready, sunshine?”
“Mhhm.”
“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 
You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  
You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 
“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 
Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.
“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 
“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 
You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 
“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”
“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.
“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.
“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 
“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 
You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 
“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 
“C’mere,” you whisper to him.
“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 
“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 
You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 
Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.
You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 
“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 
He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 
“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 
You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 
A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 
So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 
“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.
“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 
“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 
“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 
Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 
Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 
“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 
“Why would I be?”
“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 
His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 
Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 
You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 
“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 
Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 
“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 
The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 
So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 
Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 
You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.
You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 
“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 
“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 
He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 
His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”
“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.
“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 
“Do you?” 
“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”
“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 
“About my crush.” 
“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”
“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 
Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 
“Of course I did.” 
“What happened?” he echoes. 
“Nothing,” you confess. 
His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 
“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 
You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 
Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 
You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.
You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 
Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 
After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 
When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.
“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 
You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.
He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 
As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 
“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 
His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.
He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 
At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 
Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 
Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 
Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 
“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.
“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.
He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.
Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 
You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 
“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.
When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.
Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 
He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 
“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.
“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 
“Other times?” 
“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”
“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”
“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 
“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 
“I thought you were enjoying it.” 
“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.
It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 
“Moony?”
“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.
“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”
He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 
“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”
“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am not,” you giggle.
“Are,” he teases.
“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.
“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 
His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.
Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 
With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 
You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 
It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 
You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 
“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.
“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 
“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 
“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”
“Anything,” you smile. 
“I love you.” 
You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 
“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”
“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”
“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 
He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 
When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.
You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 
“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 
“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 
“Yeah.”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”
“Yes,” you moan. 
“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.
“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”
“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 
Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 
He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 
“Ready, my sunshine?” 
“Mmhhmm.”
Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.
You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 
When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 
The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.
You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 
You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 
You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 
484 notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
Text
𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 
“Can you sit up, at least?” 
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 
“Close your eyes,” he says. 
“Was that a dracula impression?” 
“I command you.” 
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 
“Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 
“But for how long?” you ask. 
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?” 
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 
You shut your eyes. 
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 
“Do you want to?” 
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 
“Remus–” 
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 
“So you like me?” 
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.” 
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 
“After that?” 
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 
He flinches. 
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 
What are the rules here? 
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 
He should let you sleep. 
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 
“Mm?” you hum. 
“I need to ask you something.” 
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 
“I just need to ask you something.” 
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 
“I'm chucking them out!” 
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 
“What?!” 
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D &lt;3
6K notes · View notes
daenysx · 26 days
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can we have one for the road for remus where he helps you relax after a long week? like the smut version of the one you did for sirius?? thank you!!
join the 1111 followers celebration
thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy! ♡
remus lupin x fem!reader, smut
remus likes the way you seem to stop thinking when he's fucking you deep into the mattress.
your eyes roll back, shaky hands holding his neck gently as you open your legs and lead him deeper inside you. a slow teardrop falls on your cheek as remus moves, he keeps hitting your g-spot sweetly. he supports the backs of your thighs and rolls his hips again, until you cry out.
"please, please, remus." he likes how you sound when you're full of him.
you feel him kissing your cheek repeatedly, he sucks a bruise on your neck. remus sees the tears ready to fall on your cheeks, and he worries. your lips search for him, his scarred cheek and his bitten lips.
"you okay, lovely?" he stops kissing you for a minute.
you nod, tears don't stop but you feel perfect. you can't breathe, your brain is completely empty except the pleasure and fullness. remus gives you a smile when your hand cups his cheek, he kisses your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo. his cock twitches inside you, the tension he feels is unbearable. he moves again, desperate for some relief. your nails scratch the back of his neck.
remus can feel his cock slide deeper easily. you are so wet for him, he moves his hips with pride. you have a smile on your pretty lips, your eyes are closed like you let yourself melt into him entirely. you never stop making noises, sweet whispers of begging reach his ears, they force him to continue until he makes a mess of himself.
"lovely girl." he whispers, presses a kiss on your ear. "you look so pretty, look at your little cunt. can you see baby? can you see how well you're taking me? such a good girl."
you see his cock sliding in and out. it makes you arch your back towards him, he supports your waist. "remus, please." you say, quietly.
"gonna come for me?" he asks. "is that what you're begging for?"
you nod, tears leaking slowly. "i just wanna stop thinking."
remus coos, his hand stroking your skin. "i'm gonna make you come until i become the only thing in that perfect mind of yours. i'm not gonna stop, did you hear that sweetness? gonna keep going until you tell me to stop."
he is a babbling mess on top of you as you finally come around him. you cry out, hands searching for him blindly. he holds you as he comes inside, filling you up until it leaks. it's so fucked up, he thinks. sheets are ruined and the mix of your liquids stains everywhere. funny thing is, he doesn't give a shit about that. he just loves the image of you relaxing under him.
remus kisses you, he forces himself to sit back on bed to pull you on his lap. you whine but he's quick to calm you down. he stays inside of you, keeping his cock deep to help you stay steady. you put your head on his shoulder when he places himself to lean back against the headboard. your breathing slowly turns back to normal as he rubs your back.
"okay, baby?" he asks gently.
you nod. "thank you, remus."
he kisses you as a response. "no need for that."
you force yourself to lift your head. your eyes look hazy, hair a lovely mess, and your cunt streched out around him. he tries to stay calm, feeling his softened cock twitch only a little when you clench around him unconciously.
"can we keep going?" you ask.
remus smiles. "of course we can. i just need a few more minutes, hmm?"
you nod, kissing his lips thank you again. he brings his fingers on your swollen clit. a gentle pinch makes your breathing go fast, he rubs the skin until he finally reaches your bud.
"oh-" you breath out, your head thrown back. "just like that."
remus gives you a fond smile as you moan under his fingers. he keeps you on his lap, rubs your clit until he has you clenching around his cock. he can feel himself getting hard after a few minutes, but he keeps himself from moving until he pulls another orgasm out of you.
he actually feels his mind blown when you come hard on top of him, cunt squeezing him deeply as you squirt. you lean onto his chest, your body is still shaking. remus kisses your hair to stay calm, you press your lips against his skin to even out your breathing.
"you're okay." he says. "you did so good for me."
he fucks you against the headboard after a while. you open your legs, desperate to forget your shitty week. he eats you out like he's been starved for years, fingers on your clit to make you come again. he turns you around for you to press your face into the soft pillows, fucks you deep once more until he can't feel his bones.
you are lying on top of his limp muscles when you finish. your brain feels like a mush, your body is tired but it's a good kind of exhaustion. it's nothing like what you've gone through for the past week. remus holds you close, pulling the covers on your bodies.
"settle down, lovely." he says. "everything is okay."
his voice is a huge comfort and he knows that. he waits for his senses to come back to normal, after that he cleans up both of you. he helps you wear clean clothes to bed and holds you in his lap like a baby when you sleep. he rewards himself with a cigarette with the window next to bed open, his one hand occupied with it while his other hand rubs your back.
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underoospeterparker · 3 months
Text
overwhelming support for remus lupin x shy!fem!reader so here goes nothing !
warnings: body insecurity!
You wished you hadn't agreed to this date.
It wasn't because you didn't like Remus, because that definitely wasn't the case. It was something more to do with your overwhelming anxiety that, for some reason, he wouldn't like you.
You stared your reflection down in the mirror, self-consciously flattening down your outfit and your hair. There was something off today. Your clothes weren't fitting as they normally did. They felt tighter, more uncomfortable at the waist.
You were just about to change your outfit before the doorbell rang.
Your heart was already pounding in your chest, and you hadn't even seen him yet. This was definitely a terrible idea.
Before you could change your mind, you unlocked the door.
"Hi," Remus said, a wide grin on his face when he saw you.
"Hi," you whispered, eyes darting to his face and then down to the floor when you couldn't bear to hold eye contact. You fidgeted with your extremely uncomfortable skirt instead.
He leaned down slightly until you looked up at him. "You look gorgeous, honey."
You blushed, a perfect pink coating your cheeks as you invited him in, saying you just needed to grab your bag and you could go.
He settled himself down on the couch, reaching for the remote on the coffee table and switching your tv on.
"What're you doing?" you asked, voice almost inaudible.
He glanced at you, a soft smile on his face. "I thought we could stay in tonight," he replied, leaning his head back onto your couch cushions.
"But-" you said, hesitating. "I thought we were going to a party?" Maybe he just didn't want to take you anymore, you thought. Pushing the voices in your head away, you focused on Remus's voice.
"I'm not saying you don't look absolutely stunning," you blushed again, "but I don't want to make you uncomfortable. And I just thought, maybe, you'd feel better if we just spent the night in?"
You relaxed, tension released from your shoulders as you smiled at him. "Thank you," you replied shyly. "I'll just go change."
You grabbed your sweatshirt and leggings, peeling off your earlier clothes and putting them on instead. You made your way back to the living room, where Remus patted the spot on the couch next to him.
"So," he said, smile evident in his voice, "what're we going to watch?" He pulled you into his chest, arm around your shoulders. And as weird as it was, it felt normal. So you leaned into it, head drooping against him.
"I don't mind," you said, legs curled up on the sofa next to you. You paused. "Thank you for noticing," you murmured. None of the boys that came before him had thought to do so.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I mean, what kind of boyfriend would I be to not?"
The thought of him being your boyfriend excited you way more than it should have.
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