wickedreading

[wickedreading]

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 3 - Riddikulus

Summary: Remus and Hesperia teach their first class. Prepared and excited, nothing can go wrong…right?

previous chapter

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notes: chapter threeee! i hope you’ll all enjoy. the next part will be…let’s call it a rollercoaster, okay? hopefully. that’s a spoiler, so it’s just between us, reader.

tw: some bad words. snape’s psycho breakfast. also, a bit of werewolf body horror - so that’s a bit nasty if you’re squirmish. and i feel like the squirm-factor will only get worse from now on, so beware of that, my sweet squirmish pals. squirm.

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"I don't know, it just came up in my mind. He looked at me like he was watching it happen." Hessie lamented about last night’s uncomfortable memory, lazily buttoning up her shirt. She was inside her chamber, talking to Remus over a half-closed door. 

They had separate rooms opposite each other. They joined in a short corridor, which led to a small common room with a cosy fireplace, stone walls and a soft burgundy carpet. There were frescos of constellations on the ceiling, similar to the ones in their classroom.

A floating porcelain pitcher was watering the greenery that was decorating the windowsills of the gothic windows. 

It strongly resembled the ambience of the Gryffindor Tower. She wondered if the chambers were accustomed to whoever stayed inside. The entire complex was hidden with an enlargening spell behind the door to their shared office, soundproofed from any inventive students that might enjoy spying on professors in their spare time.

After all, she wasn't a stranger to eavesdropping, courtesy of her unruly best friends.

Remus's head popped out of his ajar door. He was just in the middle of putting his red-and-yellow socks on. Lily Potter had knit them for him for his seventeenth birthday. 

"Are you suggesting that Snape is a Legilimens?"

He got a confused hum for an answer.

"That's absurd." he chuckled and disappeared into his room again, taking a shoebrush from his trunk to polish his oxfords. He managed to make them at least slightly shiny.

As he tightened the thin shoelaces, Hessie walked out of her room, a tweed vest lazily thrown around her shoulders. She made her way to the small kitchen-like corner.

"What's absurd is the way he treats his students. I overheard a couple of fifth years yesterday while leaving the feast. They discussed how he makes them test a potion's accuracy on their animals. Want a cuppa?" she glanced over her shoulder as he came in, his fuzzy tie still hanging untied around the collar of his shirt. 

It felt like they were back at their Yorkshire cottage. The only difference was the fireplace. And the king's beds with feather duvets. And not having to scrap for food. There was actually so much food she didn't know what to do with it. She felt like she could retrospectively feed her starving self.

He walked to a bookshelf next to the door, gathering a few schoolbooks. 

"Yes, please," he muttered and opened the well-used copy of The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger.

He sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace, crossing his legs as he browsed through it all the way to the chapter index.

"Oh, marvellous. We're supposed to do Boggarts first."

Hessie whistled. She carried two ornate teacups that resembled goblets. They were made out of black porcelain instead of metal. The cups dangerously wiggled on their saucers and Remus hopped up to take one of the cup to help her and put it on the coffee table next to him.

She sank in the other armchair with a sigh, carefully sipping her milk tea so she wouldn't burn her tongue. 

"I was thinking of trying Boggarts first as well, it's an interesting and handy subject. But you're the one on duty this time, so I guess you'll have to manage by yourself." 

"I'm not sure I can do it without you, love." he mused with a smirk before taking a sip from his cup. She gasped and kicked his shin. She despised that pet name. James and Sirius always used it to piss her off. She hated how condescending it was.

It sounded somewhat endearing from Remus, though. 

"With this attitude, you'll be lucky to live long enough to show up for the class at all." she hissed at him and took another sip of her tea, this time so vigorously she scorched her mouth. She cursed, Remus just giggled, and continued to search through the textbook. 

He still looked so beaten down, purple circles were bordering his eyes, his skin pale and dull. As the first sunbeams entered the room, she could see familiar twinkles in his sad eyes. 

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked silently, nudging his leg with hers, this time softly. He looked up from the book. 

The silver strands in his hair were a lot more protruding than when they were students, but she felt like it made him even more handsome. Like fine wine in a cellar, he aged under the moonlight's glow, remaining startlingly beautiful despite all the suffering he had to endure.

That boyish charm in his grin was never snuffed out, the dimples above his mouth as cheeky as ever. 

"Never better," he replied, his tone laced with both sarcasm and honesty. The duality of the man, she thought as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head as if she wanted to get rid of the blush on her face. The one that spilt all over her whenever he smiled at her.

She stood up and walked to the bookshelf, nudging the back of his head when she walked by him. 

"It's missing a few essentials. I need to check the library, coming?" she muttered and put on the vest after grabbing her green robes from a lion head-shaped hanger. Remus shrugged, fishing a Mars bar out of the pocket of his pants. It was a bit melted, but tasty nonetheless when he took a big bite.

"Do you still think Madame Pince is still there?" he mumbled curiously.

"That old hag? Hope not. She took 30 points from me once, just because I brought her Earl Grey instead of Ceylon. As if she was allowed to assign students slave work in the first place."

"You put a frog in her teacup, Mimi."

"That was Padfoot's idea!"

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As the week passed by, they spent most of their time in the library researching and preparing for their classes. It was as if they were fifth-years again, furiously scribbling notes on their parchments. Even Madame Pince was still sitting behind her mahogany desk, as hostile as ever.

The only thing they were missing was Sirius Black’s taunting, James Potter’s annoyingly attractive voice calling them ‘book-flobberworms’ and Peter Pettigrew’s constant questions about when they were finally leaving for lunch.

And of course, Lily Evans sitting between them, her flaming red hair in their peripherals. 

When Thursday came, Remus felt considerably more sick than on the night they arrived, which was quite ironic. He looked a lot better now, the circles under his eyes were slowly going back to their usual light beige and the few new scratches on his face were closed up, now pale pink.

His hair was a bit more tameable as well, his cheeks somehow fuller and even more dimpled than usual when he gave Hessie his signature disarming smirk. He was very pleased when he looked in the mirror in the morning. Not that he felt handsome, he never did. But he looked alive and that's what mattered to him the most. 

The nerves were eating him up from the inside, though, fingers shaking as he held a fork with scrambled eggs. He was looking around the Great Hall, trying to remember as many Gryffindor and Slytherin faces as he could. He hoped it will make him feel a bit more comfortable when it comes to facing a classroom full of strangers. Hormonal teenagers, for that matter.

Hessie sat beside him, a bit less on edge, as her first class was scheduled for tomorrow. She felt terrible for him, though.

"You'll be excellent, Moony, I'm sure of it."

"What if I hurt them, Mimi?" he blurted out, his voice strained and trembling. She sighed and took his hand, lowering it back on the plate so the eggs wouldn't fall on his shabby robes. 

"You still have more than two weeks and you're starting Snape's brew tomorrow, there is no reason to -"

"Will you go with me? Please…" he cut her off, lowering his voice when Snape sat beside him, carrying a plate with a single over-toasted slice of bread and a lump of unmelted butter slapped on top of it.

As soon as it touched the table, the empty cup in front of him filled itself with tea so black it almost matched his robes.

Remus felt like a small boy begging his mother to go to school with him. Hessie mindlessly darted across Snape’s plate and then nodded.

"Of course I will. I'll just work on my notes and be an emotional support cat. I’m quite good at that, am I not?" she grinned and he let out a sigh of relief, finally gathering the courage to take a bite of his scrambled eggs without the fear of throwing up. 

"I was actually kind of hoping you'll demonstrate. You've always been better at charms."

"You received an ‘Outstanding’ in N.E.W.T.s, Remus."

"Besides," he interrupted and ignored her biting remark.

"You know what my Boggart is. It could…you know. Raise some suspicions."

Hessie panicked. Did he forget what hers was? Before she could argue, though, a deep voice filled her ears.

"So, Lupin. I've heard that you are teaching your first class today. I would like to wish you good luck. And a smooth process. After all, we would all be very disturbed if an accident occurred." Snape sneered, his voice frigid and sarcastic.

He took a sip of his tea, not even flinching at the nauseating bitterness. Remus closed his eyes for a second and then turned at him, a wide smile plastered on his face. 

Hessie just dug a fork into her fluffy pancakes, stuffing her cheeks to the limit. She had to make sure she wouldn’t be able to hex him right on the spot. Her nostrils were trembling with anger, though.

"Thank you, Severus. I truly appreciate your kindness." Remus stated calmly, biting his cheek when Snape responded with a twitch of a forced smile. The cold man continued.

"Speaking of accidents, your potion is nearly ready. Stop by my office around eleven o’clock to gather tomorrow's dose. I will continue to bring it to you on every odd date until the last seven days prior your…imminent sickness. Then you will switch to a full goblet twice a day for the entire week. No pauses, no misses. It is very important for you to remember. Write it on Lynx's forehead if you have to."

He ignored the furious look Hessie gave him when he mentioned her. 

"One last thing - mentally prepare yourself for its unique taste. I have not sampled it, for obvious reasons, but it smells like a troll's lair. And no cheating, sugar devalues its properties." he muttered and quickly got up, his black robe swishing behind him as he walked away, holding his plate with an almost disgusted expression.

"I swear to Godric I will cut him open one day."

After spending the rest of the day in the library, they made their way to the classroom in silence, both too nervous to hold a conversation. When they reached the door, they gave each other one last look. Hessie straightened his fuzzy tie and tapped his shoulder as he straightened her robes, brushing off a few cat hairs she had on her arm. 

He gave her a warm smile and then opened the door, walking inside the filled room with long strides as she jogged to catch up with him. 

"Good afternoon, everyone!" he said with a calm, soft voice. Hessie didn't detect any signs of stress on him. After all, he was an expert in masking himself. She echoed his greeting.

"Professor Lynx is here only as a spectator today, you will get to know her wits up close tomorrow. As for today, please, close your books and pack your things. We will only need our wands today. I would like to start this semester with a practical lesson." Remus stated. The students exchanged confused looks and whispers filled the classroom. They were quite curious though, so they obeyed. 

"All packed? Wonderful! Let's be on our way, then. Please, follow us." he said and walked back to the door, waiting for everyone to gather in a group. Hessie led the way next to him, clutching a packet of pumpkin pastries. They moved through the empty hallways, heading for the professors' lounge.

On their way, though, they were blocked by Peeves. The most infuriating poltergeist under the sun, in Hessie’s opinion. When he spotted them, he let out a shrieking laugh. 

"Fucking hell…" she muttered, silent enough for only Remus to hear. He just grinned widely. He beamed as if he was delighted to meet Peeves again.

"Loony loopy Lupin, lousy little Lynx - sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I -"

"Well, that brings out some memories. Peeves, would you be so kind and move? We were just on our way to the -"

Peeves just blew a raspberry, raising his transparent hands to give Remus a middle finger. The only obstacle was that he didn't have any fingers. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled at the implication of the ghost’s sing-song, their cheeks flaming with a blush. Remus just sighed and took his wand out of the depths of his robes.

"Pay close attention, everyone. This is a very useful repelling spell, it is truly a multitasker. Waddiwassi!" he exclaimed and performed a stabbing motion with his wand. Peeves rotated in the air for a few seconds as the spell threw him about five feet back, it looked like he was hit with an invisible projectile.

Remus gained admiring gasps from the students. 

Hessie snorted with laughter, covering her mouth so she wouldn't spit out the tea she’d just sipped from her chipped thermo flask. It came out of her nose instead.

"That was so cool, professor!" Dean Thomas mused as Peeves flew away, loudly complaining with foul words. Remus turned around and gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you, Dean! Let's move, shall we?"

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"I'd love to ask my wonderful assistant for today to do a little demonstration. Would you be so generous, professor?" Remus beckoned to Hessie. She did a little curtesy, making the students giggle in anticipation. She took a bite of her pumpkin pastry and took her wand out of the tweed vest. 

Hermione and Harry answered Remus's questions about the nature of a Boggart and the advantages of fighting it in a group. The closet in the middle of the room ominously shook every few moments, rattling with every move. Everyone in the room trembled as well - from fright. Except for the two teachers.

"By all means, professor." 

A few nervous chuckles accompanied her as she positioned herself in front of the ornate cabinet and brushed off pastry flakes that settled in the corners of her lips with the back of her hand.

She took a quick glance at Remus for a green light and he nodded. Then she pointed the tip of her cherry wand at the object’s door, following up with a soft swing. 

The doorknob twisted with a loud click and several students jumped at the noise. They were anxiously waiting on what will come out. A couple of gasps and squeals echoed through the classroom when black mist slowly floated out of the cabinet and materialized into a bony, clawed paw.

A tall, pale creature stumbled out of the closet and fell on its knees. Its ears were large and pointy, skin shrivelled and a sickly shade of white. The patches of fur that scarcely speckled it were thin, the only consistent amount of hairs was on the top of the beast's head.

It slowly rose on its huge sinewy legs and straightened its back, at least as much as the big skeletal hunch allowed it to. Its long snout twitched as it smelled its surroundings, the damp tip of it moved up and down when it locked its glowing yellow eyes with hers. 

Loud thumps filled the air as it vigorously swung its stubby tail and repeatedly bumped into the open door behind it. The children backed away in panic, a few stumbling right into the wall. Harry soundlessly gasped when the creature stepped towards Hessie, its chest heaving in irregular wheezes.

She watched it with great caution, not taking a single step back when it threw its head back, took a deep breath and howled, its voice cracking. The creature's teeth were needle-sharp and crooked, dark blood was leaking from the corners of its lips. 

Her eyebrow twitched when it set its eyes on her again. But it wasn't vicious. It wasn't a feral glare.

Its amber irises were glossed over by misery. Big salty tears were streaming down the beast's scarred cheeks. It looked at her with tremendous pain, pure, pristine agony.

A high-pitched cough hitched in her throat, but when Pansy Parkinson’s terrified squeak reached her ears, she forced out an exhale and swished her wand in a Z-pattern just as the beast raised its frail arm to swing at her. 

"Riddikulus!"

A split second before the dirty claws were about to dig into her flesh, the figure warped into the same dark fog it originated from and then vaporized again - a fluffy grey puppy appeared in its place. She broke into a soft smile when the class started applauding with sighs of relief and cheers.

Even the most disinterested Slytherins were watching closely in awe. A lot of them actually whistled in admiration. 

She crouched and scratched the dog behind the ear before pointing her finger at the cupboard. It barked and obeyed, stomping away with a chipper shimmy, its tail excitedly wiggling. It disappeared into the depths of the closet and she swung her wand again, closing the door with a loud bang. The object started rattling again. 

Hessie stood up and looked at Remus. He was clapping, too, but he stared at the floor with a sad smile. She cleared her throat and turned around to face the class, theatrically bowing when the cheers got louder. She took another bite of her pastry and grinned. Remus walked up to her and chuckled.

"Wonderful, professor, thank you!" he beamed and stuck out his palm to shake her hand. She took it with a laugh and felt her features fill with familiar warmth when their fingers touched.

She hopped up on the windowsill that ran along the room and tucked her wand away, chomping down the last bite of her snack. She dusted off the crumbles from her fingers and watched as Remus called Neville to the front. 

When he successfully polymorphed Snape's bat-like robes into his grandmother's clothes, the class erupted in laughter and she couldn't help but giggle as well. She couldn't deny the uncomfortable pit in her stomach, though.

The students formed a line and Remus rushed to the gramophone that was next to Hessie, carefully placing one of his well-used vinyl records on top. A cold shiver ran down her spine when her gaze fell on the slender fingers that took the needle and gracefully pressed it on the record. 

A catchy swing melody filled the room and Remus grabbed an apple from a wicker basket prepared on a tea table next to him. He took a bite and excitedly wiggled his eyebrows at his friend, twirling around to face the crowd.

"Parvati!" Remus called the petite girl to the front and watched as Snape twisted into a gigant snake. She stumbled backwards with wide eyes. When she heard the encouraging roars of her friends, she waved her wand and another pop echoed around the room. It changed into an oversized jack-in-the-box.

Hessie scrunched her nose.

Not much better.

She seemed amused and satisfied, though, so Hessie gave a little clap and whistled while motioning Seamus to continue. One by one, the students took turns in front of the closet, successfully morphing the Boggart to their will. She shook off disgust when Ron came up and Dean’s incapacitated zombie hand warped into a full-grown Acromantula. 

"Steady, Ron!" she cheered and took another pastry from the packet in her pockets. 

"Wand at the ready, Ron!" Remus clapped and rolled up his sleeves, watching Ron's twisted expression. He let out a small squeak when the Acromantula clicked its mandibles. Then he finally moved his wand.

"Riddikulus!"

With a loud snap, all of the spider's legs disappeared. Its body rolled around the ground like a furry ball. Cheers and laughs mixed with the lively music. While Ron didn't look a hundred per cent convinced, he grinned and backed away, giving high-fives on his way to the back of the row.

The round torso rolled around the room and stopped at Harry's feet. He was up next.

All colour drained from Hessie's face when Remus looked at her with wide eyes, an identical memory flashing behind his eyes. 

Pale, nearly transparent skin peeling off of a face that still carried some eerie resemblance to handsomeness. Glowing red eyes with serpent-like slits for pupils. A green light ricocheting off a disarming spell. Deafening ringing in their ears as they held each other's hand in a tight cramp, apparating away from the annihilated battlefield.

Remus jumped in front of Harry as nonchalantly as possible, right before the Boggart infiltrated the boy's mind. 

"Here!" Remus exclaimed and raised his wand. The fuzzy globe bounced off of the floor like a volleyball and hung in the air for a few seconds before dissolving into a shiny orb surrounded by clouds. Hessie accidentally crushed the pumpkin pastry between her fingers, forcing down a dry swallow.

"Riddikulus!" he commanded, calm and collected. The orb burst open and a cockroach appeared instead, falling on the floor with a dull slap. Remus ignored Harry's confused shrug and searched for Neville in the crowd.

"He's weak, Neville! Finish him!" he waved his hand and Neville awkwardly jogged to the front and pointed his wand at the insect, more confidently this time. It changed back into Snape for a split second.

"Riddikulus!" the boy loudly yelped. Everyone caught a flash of his grandmother's red handbag. Then the Boggart turned into a small whirlpool of black smoke before imploding with an echoing boom, leaving behind a few crackling fire sparks.

The whole class erupted in loud cheers and feverish clapping along with both professors. 

"Wonderful, everyone, truly professional work!" Remus stuck his wand into the wicker basket to applaud properly. 

"I'm very proud of you all, what a joyful show!" Hessie agreed, giving everyone thumbs up. 

"So, five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for each student that participated, ten points to The Lion for Neville, as he faced the Boggart twice. And five points for both Harry and Hermione."

"But I haven't done anything!" Harry questioned, his expression as puzzled as his voice. Remus smiled.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly! Everyone, this has been a wonderful lesson, thank you!"

"A small homework for the lot of you, read the chapter on Boggarts in your textbooks and write a short essay on methods of recognizing and eliminating them. The deadline is Monday, so you have plenty of time, no stress. Thank you, dear colleagues!" 

Hessie clapped once again and hopped back up on the windowsill, watching the excited students say their goodbyes and flow out of the classroom until it was empty.

They were boasting to each other about how well they dealt with the dark creature. Remus let out a heavy sigh, clearly content. Hessie chuckled and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. 

"Very enjoyable, sir," she mumbled, smirking when he proudly straightened his back. His fist involuntarily flexed at the way the title rolled off her lips. He cleared his throat. 

"Not so bad yourself, madame. They seemed to understand quite well, don't you think? I feel like they all have a lot of potential." he closed the closet door with a swish of his wand and leaned against the wall next to her, taking a big bite of his apple. She nodded. 

"I just hope…you know -"

"Yeah. I'm sure he will understand. Harry is a smart boy."

Strange silence filled the room. Hessie felt like she could hear Remus's thoughts sprinting through his brain. She took a shallow breath to say something but he was faster. 

"I did not realize your Boggart was still…I mean, I didn't think that…"

He fell silent. Stumbling through his explanation wouldn't be coherent enough for her to understand. She started shaking her head furiously.

"No, no. No, Remus. Don't do this to me right now. You know damn well why it's -"

"I'm sorry, Mimi."

"Don't you dare even imply that I would -"

A maternal voice disturbed their hushed conversation. McGonagall's elegant figure entered the chamber, her hair tied in a tight bun. A stark contrast to the mess on Hessie’s head.

"Ah, here you are! Albus told me you have your first lesson today. Did everything live up to your expectations?” she asked, her kind smile as professional as ever.

The two of them exchanged a quick look before Remus cleared his throat, trying to swallow the apple pulp completely.

”Of course, prof- Minerva. They all did their part and eliminated the Boggart Albus was talking about. I feel like they’re all way smarter than we were at that age.” he chuckled and McGonagall pursed her lips.

”I highly doubt that.” she simply stated, her voice full of brutal honesty. Hessie painfully bit her lip to contain a wide smug grin that was cracking her professional smile. The older woman sighed.

“Glad to hear that, though. Anyway, I just came to invite you to our Quidditch practice. I am sure you will find that Potter is even more similar to his father than you think."

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons @moon-witchs-world

#tryskomys #moonchild #Remus Lupin #remus lupin angst #Remus lupin series #hp #hp series #Angst series #Series #Angst

[wickedreading]

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 2 - Episkey

Summary: Moony and Mittens officially join the Hogwarts faculty. After a string of both endearing and hostile reunions, the feast unexpectedly evokes a wave of dreadful memories.

previous chapter

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notes: here goes chapter two! hope you’ll enjoy it, it is preeeetty juicy for you angst lovers out there…

tw: a bit nasty - blood, vivid description of minor injuries, foul language, padfoot is a dickhead ™

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"Do you think I should change back?" Hesperia mumbled in a hushed voice as she and Remus crisscrossed between students through the narrow corridor. He was doing his best not to step on anyone's feet, which was quite a challenge as his pointy Oxford shoes neared twice the size of some of the children's. The brown leather material was flaky in some places, the heel worn out and uneven.

He answered with a shrug, now trying his best to maintain balance when the train suddenly moved, rattling through the tracks once again with a deafening screech of wheels.

"I don't think that will be necessary. They probably thought you were wandering somewhere around the train." 

She sighed in relief and attempted to tuck a loose strand of hair back into the chignon.

"Splendid. I don't think that shaggy old floor mop would digest the chocolate very well. I don't plan on dying tonight, not until I've had at least two servings of butterbeer croquembouche."

A giggle rumbled through his chest as they reached their respective compartment. The children were still there, now a bit calmer as they discussed the preceding events. Remus gave a short nod in the direction of the now-empty package of chocolate.

Hesperia raised her eyebrows in contentment and then softly cleared her throat, a shy shiver running down her spine when the passengers looked at the two of them. 

Their surprised faces scanned the new stranger, the boys were especially flustered when she gave them all a warm smile. Harry discreetly looked the woman up and down, stopping when she made eye contact with him. 

Her eyes…that's impossible.

"Are you feeling better, Harry? We'll be arriving at Hogwarts in ten minutes." Remus gained back their attention when he spoke. They were already getting used to his calm, silent voice. He seemed to have an unusual sort of authority, one won over by pure kindness. But it was their first time hearing the woman speak. 

"Professor Lupin kindly filled me in on the problems we've run into. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will investigate how those beasts got in here. Don't burden your minds with that, now. There's no safer place than Hogwarts, right?" she assured them. Her words carried through the air as if they were soft clouds, sweet to their ears like butterscotch.

Remus nodded and motioned towards the leather seats. 

"May we join you?" he asked politely, his tired smile growing wider when the children nodded and muttered silent, assuring replies. Harry shuffled to the side so the professors could sit in the same place where Remus slept, oblivious to the cat's sudden disappearance until Ginny's shy voice peeped from the corner.

Hesperia got up in the meantime and reached for the copy of Daily Prophet that was tucked under her ragged suitcase, stubbornly staring into it when she sat down and heard Ginny's tremoring question. 

"Professor, I- I'm sorry, but where is your Mittens?" she stuttered and her face was almost as red as her hair now. His eye twitched for the slightest second before he shifted in his seat, sticking his hands into the pockets of his robe. 

"Oh, Mittens is not mine, she's just a stray. I used to meet her a lot around the grounds when I went to school, which was…let's say some years ago. More than I'd like to admit." he grinned and casually rested his head on the window. 

"I was quite surprised to see her after all that time. She was looking rather ragged, though. I guess age is catching up to her." he shrugged as Ginny giggled. His ears caught the subtle rustle of paper when Hesperia gripped the Prophet tighter.

Oh, you're surely getting the claws when we get there, prick. 

She was torn out of the long silence that followed when the train stopped with a shrill sound of metal grinding against metal. 

"Looks like we're here! Ah, I hope there will be broiled potatoes." Remus stretched and gave everyone present a wide smile before getting up, probably too fast for his exhaustion, because his vision went fuzzy for a moment and he stumbled backwards. Neville caught him, his big ears as red as his favourite cherry liquorice sticks from the snack trolley.

The professor patted his slouched shoulder and thanked him. He just nodded and nearly ran out of the cabin, stumbling over Hesperia's small suitcase in the process.

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet all of you! See you around." she nodded and handed Remus his cane before disappearing from their sight with a small wave.

When she walked outside, ropes of frigid rain were falling from the sky with loud splashes and clouds occasionally cracked with bright lightning. She softly swore under her breath, cringing as wet drops ran under the collar of her robe. Remus carefully limped down the stairs of the train and when he hit the ground with a heavy huff, she snorted.

"Who did you say was getting old?" she hissed at him but couldn't hide the grin playing at her lips when he looked at her, his green eyes wide. He smacked his lips in annoyance and softly punched her arm. He took out his wand, pointed it at the sky and a transparent umbrella sprung out of its tip, successfully shielding both of them from the pouring rain.

She lifted his small luggage from the ground and held it along with her own so he could use his cane as well as his wand. Ignoring his protests, she scooted over closer to him and hooked her arm into his when he offered it with a sigh. 

"Mimi, you don't have to -" 

"Shush, pay attention to your steps, now. You can be a gentleman tomorrow." she cut him off and tugged on his arm to make him move.

She heard Hagrid's booming voice calling the first-years to join him and she melted, the nostalgia finally catching up to her.

They made their way over to the carriages, gravel crunching under their shoes as they walked on the road surrounded by various blooming bushes and small flame spheres that hovered above the ground. The carriages they seemed to be dragged by strange, naked creatures now. They resembled horses and birds alike, their wings scaly and skeletal. Thestrals.

"Makes sense that we would see them, now...after everything," Remus mumbled in her ear, his warm breath making her freezing cheek pleasantly flush. She just soundlessly nodded and let go of him, climbing into one of the vehicles with a soft huff. 

Three fairly grown-up girls, presumably seventh-years, hesitantly joined them. Their hair was soaked and their teeth rattled in the cold autumn breeze that fluttered around them as the Thestrals moved. Their faces turned pink when they noticed the unusually young and unusually handsome professor and his gentle smile. 

"Engorgio!" he commanded and the transparent umbrella expanded with a high-pitched squeal until it hovered over the whole carriage. The group's cheeks flamed even brighter now, stifling giggles when he spoke. 

"Better?" his sweet voice carried through the air and the girls nodded, gingerly thanking before murmuring something among each other. She cursed her pitch-perfect hearing.

Why couldn't I have transformed into a mole rat instead?

"Show-off," she muttered under her breath and he shrugged, a smug grin reaching all the way up to his twinkling eyes.

When they arrived in front of the castle and hopped out of the vehicle, she spotted Harry and the others from the train in the distance. They seemed to be in some sort of conflict with a trio of boys she didn't see before when they passed the compartments on the way here. Remus raised an eyebrow as they neared the group. 

"I wonder whose son that is," he mumbled with a sarcastic smirk when they were close enough to notice that the loudest student had shiny, platinum blonde hair. She scoffed and did her best to put on a professional façade. 

"Is there a problem?" Remus questioned in a firm but friendly tone and they stopped by the band of teens. He was remarkably better at keeping his temper than her, which was quite ironic considering his condition. Her disdain was hidden behind an unconvincing smile. 

Draco Malfoy and his two companions turned around and looked the professors up and down, silver and green ties nonchalantly thrown around their necks. Now that they were illuminated by the golden lights of the castle and standing right in front of them, Harry noticed just how much shabbier they looked in comparison to the river of people flowing into the castle.

Remus Lupin was a tall, tall man. And yet, his ill-fitting robes still seemed to loosely flutter around his fairly broad stature. The tweed suit he had under his long grey robe was pilling around the buttons and loose threads were sticking out of his mousy brown tie. The rough woollen coat that hung down from his shoulders had clumps all over and it looked frankly uncomfortable to wear. His dark brown Oxfords were worn-out and creased all over.

His female companion didn't look much fancier. Her fawny suit was from a lighter type of wool than his, but it was no less crumpled. Her trousers ended above her ankles, it was hard to decide if they were supposed to be that way or if she had them for years and simply grew out of them. The high leather boots on her feet were slightly pointy and had a small and stocky hourglass-shaped heel. The shoelaces were tightly knotted, looking like they might fall apart at any moment.

Her moss-green robe had a few patches from a different fabric and her mustard-yellow parka was the only piece of clothing on both of them that looked semi-new.

Malfoy must've went through the same thought process, because his already judgemental smirk grew even wider when he saw Remus's scarred face, pale and exhausted. The grey strands in his hair glinted under the soft lights that escaped through the windows.

"No problem at all…professor." Draco sneered and gave Harry, Ron and Hermione one last scoff before waving off his two beefy friends and joining the mountain of heads moving up the stairs. Ron gave them an apologizing smile and Hesperia patted his shoulder. 

"Enjoy the feast." she winked and turned around when she heard Professor Flitwick's high-pitched voice from around the corner. Ron caught the slightest hint of her perfume when she whipped her head around and his red ears nearly started glowing in the dark rainy night. 

"Hessie! Remus! I've been looking for you all over, where were you hiding?" Flitwick mused, waving at them to join him. They exchanged a big grin and waved Harry and his friends goodbye, rushing to the small man's side. They affectionately shook his hand and he led them to the back entrance reserved for teachers.

They entered a small lobby that continued to The Great Hall, where most teachers already sat at their places, waiting for everyone to arrive. Remus waved his wand to make the umbrella disappear with a puff of raindrops and hung his cane on one of the armchairs. Hessie put the two suitcases on the floor, taking off her parka.

Professor Sprout just walked in with a deep frown on her face. 

"Filius, how in Helga's name am I supposed to -" 

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the new faces and her annoyed expression immediately changed to a delighted smile. 

"Remus! And Hessie, too! Merlin's beard, come here, my lion cubs." she exclaimed and stomped through the lobby with a boisterous giggle. She gave them both a big bone-crushing hug before standing on her tiptoes to pinch Remus's cheek. He blushed at the sudden attention.

"My dear boy, look at you! You've grown so much!" she sniffled and turned to Hessie, took her hands and spun her around.

"Let me have a proper look at you, rosebud. My dear Hessie, as sweet as ever!"

Professor Sprout took out a lacy handkerchief and patted her eyes dry. Hessie bit her lip to contain the embarrassed smile that curled on her lips. The stocky witch sighed and put her handkerchief back inside her robes, softly clapping her hands.

"We're so honoured to be back, Professor." Remus awkwardly stuck his hands into his pockets and Professor Sprout tutted.

"Oh, stop it, sweetheart. Call me Pomona. We're so delighted to have you here with us. Truly, right before you arrived, Filius was just talking about - Filius?"

Her eyes widened when she realized she came in to complain to Professor Flitwick and franatically looked around the room. He elegantly snuck out of the room when she was busy blowing her nose.

"Filius!" she lamented and ran out of the door without a word, muttering something under her breath before calling out for him again. 

They broke into giggles as soon as she disappeared behind the corner. She walked up closer to him and smoothed his robes, spotting cat hair on his chest. They fell silent and he looked down at her lovingly, allowing himself to study her face now that she was busy taking out her wand. 

Her eyebrows were knitted in concentration as she muttered a string of incantations, first removing the clumps on his suit with a simple wave, then swishing it to make the loose threads vanish and finally move onto the tear near the bottom of his robe, intricately twirling the tip as the fabric seemed to attach itself together.

She didn't seem to age a day since they last walked through this castle. Even back then she had a few silver threads in her hair. 

His eyes fell on the long scar that graced her skin. A wave of sickness jolted through his body and he bit down on his bottom lip so roughly a drop of blood appeared on it. She seemed to have a potent radar for Remus's self-loathing thoughts, so she looked at him, put her wand away and reached up, wiping the red stain with the pad of her thumb. His eyelids involuntarily fluttered closed as his fists clenched in his pockets. 

"How many times did I tell you not to chew your lips?" she whispered when he opened his eyes. They were exhausted and bordered with dark circles. And despite all the pain they carried, they were so warm, so caring it made her heartbeat stutter. He softly shook his head.

"I cannot count that high, Mittens," he said and breathed out a shivering sigh.

Both of them jumped when Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, watching them with arms akimbo as his grey robe fluttered in the cold breeze that flowed in through the main door. The expression on his face seemed deliberately bored as if he was standing there for hours.

"I see you've already settled here comfortably. Splendid!" his voice echoed through the stone walls and he giggled when he saw their terrified expressions, walking up to them with open arms.

Hessie let out a silent chuckle and straightened her robes. Remus sheepishly took the hands out of his pockets, clasping them behind his back.

"Sweet Hessie." he kissed the back of her hand before softly caressing her cheek.

"And Remus, my dear friend. What a joy to see the two in these halls again. I'll forever be in your debt for this." he shook Remus's hand and patted his back, taking both of them around the shoulders.

"You have missed the usual professors' meeting, but pay no mind to that. I will fill you in on everything. Now, tell me - ah, Severus! Right on time as always."

They both set their eyes on the towering figure in the doorframe. His posture was unbelievably straight, not in the slightest similar to the hunch he was stuck in when they last saw each other.

Severus Snape was piercing them with narrowed eyes, thy were so astonishingly dark they didn't seem to reflect any light. He was completely wrapped in layers of long black robes, only his pale sinewy hands peeked out of his sleeves while he folded his arms. 

'What's up, Snivellus? Stumbled upon some shampoo lately? 'Cause it doesn't seem like it. Levicorpus!'

James Potter's phantom voice echoed through her ears as she studied his greasy raven hair, her eyes rapidly blinking off the embarrassment. She hated that nickname almost as much as she hated Snape himself, along with his supremacist friend group.

She wondered if he ever knew that. If he remembered that she and Remus loathed their friends’ treatment of him. Considering his hostile scowl, though, it seemed like enabling was just as heinous as bullying in his eyes. She couldn't fault him for that, so she averted his stare by peeking inside the noisy Great Hall.

"Severus, you've met Remus and Hessie before." Dumbledore walked up to him and motioned him inside the lobby. Remus was as uncomfortable as her when he stuck out his palm to shake Snape's veiny hand. 

"I've had the pleasure." he simply stated, his voice impossibly deep and cold as ice. Remus gave him a small, genuine smile, but Snape just turned to Hessie, shaking her hand with a similarly steely grip. 

"Severus will supply you with the Wolfsbane potion as often as you'll need. The ingredients in his pantry are of utmost quality, as are his skills, of course. I'm fully convinced that we'll be able to ease your suffering, Remus. I promise." Dumbledore assured him, sensing the tension in the room.

Remus nodded.

"Oh, I have no doubts about our Potions Master's skills. Severus, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am in your debt." he gave him a polite nod, nervously picking on the skin around his nails.

Snape stood motionless, like a Muggle portrait before giving Remus a lopsided, dishonest smile and with a dramatic swish of his black robe, he turned around and headed towards his seat behind the teachers' table. Dumbledore shrugged and gave them a reassuring smile, waving towards the door as he led the way to The Great Hall. They exchanged a nervous sigh and followed him.

● ● ● ● ● ●

"With great honour, I'd like to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin and Professor H. Lynx, who were generous enough to accept my offer and share the open position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers."

Dumbledore introduced the young duo and they both got up, giving the packed dining hall a court, shy bow. They grinned at each other and sat down, looking around the room as the lukewarm cheers died down. 

"For those who seemed to be puzzled by this unusual precaution, the Hogwarts faculty has discussed the…inconsistencies in the previous years and deduced that it would be wise to employ two teachers at once. In case one of them got possessed by anything, be it villainy or incompetence," he added with a knowing smirk and cheerful laughter carried through the packed room.

Harry caught Hessie's eyes and she gave him a disarming wink, making his cheeks flood with a patchy blush.

She seemed so familiar.

The excitement after Dumbledore’s announcement of the new Care of Magical Creatures professor got a considerably louder applause as Hagrid sheepishly stood up and hit the long table with his large belly, making Remus's goblet of wine fall on the floor with a twinkling rattle. He just laughed it off and continued clapping as a new goblet appeared in front of him out of thin air.

The joyous atmosphere seemed to quickly vaporize when the headmaster’s speech turned to the topic of Dementors and their reason to lurk around the castle.

When his name boomed through the stone walls, Hessie felt as if someone dropped a bucket of freezing water down her robe, frigid dread running down her spine.

Twelve years and it still didn't hurt any less than when she got the owl on the fateful Hallowe'en night. She heard Remus's deep sigh beside her as he stared at the table. Her peripheral vision caught Snape's dark eyes boring into her skull, mouth twisted in a mocking grin.

A memory consumed her whole consciousness.

She was stomping through the tall grass with deafening ringing in her ears, her nostrils shivered as she huffed out heavy breaths. The Whomping Willow, covered in snow, was getting smaller and smaller as she walked away, looking almost indistinguishable from a harmless tree when she finally reached the castle's back door.

She never ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower as quickly as that evening. The Fat Lady was just falling asleep when she walked up to the portrait, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her shaky voice.

"'Shrivelfig juice.'" she said firmly, trying to mask the anger spewing out of her brain. The Lady peevishly grunted and opened her eyes.

"Merlin's beard, what are you doing up at this hour? I was just about to indulge in my beauty sleep - "

"I SAID 'SHRIVELFIG JUICE‘!" she exclaimed, her eyebrows knotted in a deep frown. The Fat Lady gasped and reluctantly opened the entrance, muttering complaints under her breath.

"The audacity! I thought you had manners, young lady!" she called after her, but Hessie couldn't hear any of it. The ringing in her ears got too loud when she entered the common room and slammed the door behind her. 

A handsome young man was sitting by the fireplace in one of the velvet armchairs, the flames illuminated his chiselled features. His grey eyes were scanning a Muggle motorcycle magazine but he immediately hopped up when he noticed her, greeting her with a signature wide grin as his dark locks nonchalantly cascaded around his face.

His joyful expression quickly fell when she charged at him and decked him in the face so hard he stumbled back down on his seat.

Her fist slowly filled up with white-hot pain when she heard a soft crack upon the impact. Her index finger was now bent at an unnatural angle. 

"What the -"

"You self-centred prick! What exactly did you think you were doing?!" she shrieked as she held her bleeding knuckles, the pain was like gasoline to her fury. He looked up at her, mouth full of blood. His nose was letting out a small drop as well, tickling the bow of his lips. He immediately knew what she was talking about.

"What's gotten into you? It was a joke, Mimi -"

"Don't Mimi me, you fucking idiot! He could have died!"

"Serves him right, didn't he call you a scar-faced cunt yesterday?"

"Serves him right?!" she screeched again, pacing in front of him like a hungry lioness in her cage. Her chest rapidly heaved. They were lucky the whole tower was gone for an overnight field trip to Hogsmeade.

"He's a sinister, greasy little cockroach. He had it coming. Someone ought to give him a little scare." he hissed and wiped the bloody nose with the sleeve of his yellow-red sweater. 

She scoffed.

"So you took it upon yourself, a hero of the people!"

He took a breath to say something but she harshly cut him off.

"You don't value human life? Fine. Suit yourself. But did your omnipotent brain even consider what would've happened to Moony if he had ripped that fuckface to shreds? How he would feel if he woke up in the hospital wing tomorrow and found out he'd torn someone's beating heart out? Did you worry about the consequences for your best fucking friend?!" she screamed in his face and he fell silent, putting together that this was the true core of her wrath. 

And he truly didn't realize any of it. She was right and he was arrogant and careless. He felt humiliated. She could see right through him at that moment, so she gave him a joyless grin. 

"Didn't think so. Let me enlighten you, then!" 

He immediately backed away when she walked towards him again, but this time she just braced herself against the armrests of his chair, ignoring the bloody marks she'd left behind. She bent down on his level and got as close as she could without their noses touching.

He could inhale the scent of her Moondew shampoo from this distance, but it felt dangerous, not familiar. Her furious stare made him feel like he was burning on a stake, so he decided to move his gaze to the carmine red carpet under his feet instead.

Her silent voice was even more menacing than her enraged shrieks.

"He would've been expelled and sent to rot in Azkaban for manslaughter. All because pretty boy wanted to boost his fragile ego by navigating a clueless person to a tunnel that leads straight into a werewolf's den."

The boy's grunt echoed through the common room walls when he jumped up from his armchair, took her by the collar of her fuzzy green sweater and backed her into a wall, deaf to the gasp she made when her shoulders hit the uneven stone.

"You know what?! If you care so much about your precious Snape's well-being, why don't you go join him and his Death Eater friends at the dining table for breakfast? You can talk about your mother's bakery over a cuppa and they'll welcome you with open arms!" he barked out, spitting blood and saliva all around him. 

She didn't have time to process his statement, because as soon as the words left his mouth, her injured hand instinctively sprung up and firmly slapped his cheek, leaving a mark of bloody fingers behind. His face whipped to the side and he took a moment to breathe out before meeting her devastated face, realizing the weight of his insult.

Strident pain pulsed through her broken finger, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that was eating through her heart when his venomous words sank in. He stared at her with wide eyes, knowing that there was nothing he could do to take back the taunt he just stabbed her with.

She scoffed, a sarcastic smirk curling up the corners of her quivering lips.

"You make me sick, Black," she whispered and wrenched out of his now-limp grip. She forcefully pushed him aside with her shoulder, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. As she stomped off, he heard a strained mumble.

"Episkey."

He cringed at the poorly contained squeal she let out when her busted finger straightened itself back to its usual position with a nauseating crack.

”Mittens, I -“

He could do nothing but watch her body warp into a familiar ball of matted fur and disappear behind the bookshelf that hid one of the ways out of the castle.

She jerked at the loud swish that accompanied the sudden appearance of mountains of food.

Sweet and savoury, sour or bland, it was all there.

She fixed her dissociated stare at the broiled chicken drumsticks that were neatly arranged in a bowl of creamy corn and broccoli, dull pain pulsing in her stomach.

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Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons

#tryskomys #moonchild #series #remus lupin series #remus lupin #hp #hp series #remus lupin angst #angst series #angst

[wickedreading]

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

Chapter 1 - Reparo

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆please read the synopsis notes here ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

Summary: Harry and his friends meet an unlikely duo on their way to Hogwarts. The new DADA professors, personally recruited by Albus Dumbledore himself, are disturbed from their nostalgic journey by terrifying creatures that search The Express for their once dearest friend.

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notes: here goes the first chapter! I’ve been nurturing this story in my mind for a long, long time and I finally decided to put it into words. It’s my first shot at a quasi-reader insert, so bear with me, please. I also hope this will appease older Harry Potter/Marauders fans that maybe feel like there are not enough adult-centered stories! Hope you’ll like this one, whatever the outcome may be!

tw: brief mentions of scars

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“Who do you think that is?”

A young nasal voice echoed through a small cabin of the Hogwarts Express. The boy nodded towards a large figure curled up in the furthest corner, fully concealed under a ragged tweed robe.

“Professor R.J. Lupin. And Professor H. Lynx, but she’s probably running errands somewhere around the train.”

This time a girl’s voice, clear and confident.

“How is it that you know everything?” the boy hissed, annoyed. The girl just let out a loud sigh.

“There are names on the suitcases, Ronald.”

A small, fluffy animal that rested next to the stranger’s lap slowly opened her eyes, looking around at the new faces that joined the cabin. Her matted fur was curly in some places, the colour almost unidentifiable, except for the silver clumps that peppered her head. And she had a strange vertical scar across the left side of her face. Quite unusual for an ordinary cat.

A pair of big, nearly phosphorescent irises fell on Harry Potter’s green ones and pinned him to the leather seat when he sat down next to her and her…owner? He immediately regretted even thinking of that word because it seemed to irritate her. As if she could read his mind.

For a second it seemed like she narrowed her eyes at him and then looked around the room again, her gaze stopping at the large cluster of ginger fur in front of her. Hermione Granger clutched her pet, Crookshanks, a bit closer to her chest, worried that he might pounce at the strange cat. But when the greying feline softly meowed in his direction, he began purring and buried his squashed face into Hermione’s sweater, clearly content.

“I never thought I’d see a more bizarre excuse for a cat than yours, Hermione, but this one might be a solid contender.” Ron Weasley chuckled, his long freckled nose scrunched. His eyes widened, however, when the cat rested her sight on him, her bored glowing stare burning through his skull.

She elegantly stretched and tucked her tail between her paws, closing her eyes again. She snuggled closer to the stranger’s coat and the group of students jumped when he mindlessly stuck out his hand, petting her head in his sleep before disappearing even deeper into the heavy fabric with a soft snore.

“Do you think he’s really asleep? I have to tell you something.” Harry asked his friends, still uneasy about the cat’s presence.

● ● ● ● ● ●

The cat was harshly awakened by a strange freezing sensation jolting through her from the tip of her tail. She opened her eyes and immediately jumped on all fours when she realized the lights were out. Two more children were in the cabin now and all of their faces twisted in horror as they were guessing what was going on. It took another jolt of fright before the feline fully came to her senses and realized what was happening. She turned her frizzy head to the sleeping man beside her.

Merlin’s beard. Sorry, Remus.

She dug her claws into the man’s thigh and he sprung up, instinctively reaching for the wand inside his robes. His hair was all tousled and messy from the uncomfortable nap he was indulging in a second ago. His scarred cheek had a rough, fuzzy pattern imprinted on it, from how he rested on his scratchy coat. He was just about to scold the animal when he felt the same wave of frigid dread rush through him. He realized that there were people around him, frightened and defenceless children. They were all chattering in panic, their words shaky and incoherent.

“Quiet!” he hissed, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He gracefully waved his long fingers and a heatless flame sphere appeared in his palm, illuminating his soft, tired features. He turned to the cat with a slightly disappointed expression and she tipped her head as if to apologize for the rude awakening.

She spat out a loud hiss when a large flowing shadow of robes opened the clunky cabin door. It slithered its skinless, slimy fingers around the doorframe and floated in. Its foul breath sounded more like a wheeze, like a razor scratching against a porcelain goblet. The cat hissed again, her ears folded in a perfectly horizontal line, and got ready to pounce, but Remus Lupin held up a finger to stop her. She hesitantly stayed put as he spoke to the creature in a calm and calculated voice, but it didn’t seem to comprehend - or didn’t want to. It moved even further inside and latched its gaze onto Harry, whose chest heaved as if there was an invisible black hole trying to suck him in.

The cat jumped up on the professor’s shoulder with a feral growl and he didn’t even bat an eye, only muttered an incantation, and suddenly, the whole cabin was filled with a bright sparkling glow that illuminated even the smallest cranny. The creature let out a guttural eerie gasp before floating out of sight and in a few moments, the lightbulbs in the room flickered alight again.

The cat looked around the room, now having a proper outlook from the ragged man’s shoulder. He didn’t seem too distraught, he even raised a finger to playfully scratch her chin. She reacted by biting him and throwing him a scowl - well, as much of a scowl as a cat could manage.

“Sorry, Mittens. That was for the claws,” he whispered to her and she scoffed, jumping down on the floor to see…

Harry.

He was passed out and unresponsive as his friends tried to wake him. Remus kneeled next to him and slapped his cheeks a few times. The cat, Mittens, spotted a small red-haired girl shaking in the corner, face puffy and full of tears. She took one last look at Harry before soundlessly walking up to the little one, tickling her cheek with her fluffy tail. She purred as loudly as she could when the child extended her shivering fingers to scratch the silver patch of fur on her head. It seemed to slightly calm the girl down and as Harry opened his eyes, both her and the animal let out a sigh of relief.

“Here, eat this. It’s just chocolate. You’ll feel better.” Remus spoke as he divided pieces of a chocolate bar that he fished out of the depths of his robe. He gave a chunk to each person in the cabin - Hermione, Ron, the tall chubby boy with protruding ears they called Neville, and the redhead girl, Ginny.

His voice was as velvety and sweet as the candy he was handing out.

He offered a triangle to the cat with a big smirk and Harry could swear he saw her roll her eyes. The boy reluctantly took a piece from the professor when he faced him, still unsure if it was safe to eat. The cat silently meowed in contentment, making the little redhead smile through all the sniffling.

“What was that…thing?” Harry asked, slowly sitting back up on the seat with Neville’s help.

“That was a Dementor, Harry. One of the Azkaban guards. They were searching for Sirius Black.” the professor calmly stated, his expression as blank as an empty sheet of parchment. Yet the cat could decipher the slightest strain in his voice when he mentioned the name. He then rose and cleared his throat, breaking off a small piece of the chocolate bar for himself. He put the rest of the package on the empty spot next to Harry and smiled at everyone.

“Now if you’ll excuse us. We’ve got to have a word with the driver,” he apologized with a curt nod and the cat gave the small girl one last nudge before setting off.

When he walked out of the door, he tutted at her, as most people would do to catch a cat’s attention. She stopped in her tracks, staring at his smug grin. Then she jumped up on his shoulder again and smacked his head with her clawed paw a few times. He stifled a giggle and faced the inside of the cabin once more, meeting all the confused and shaken faces.

“I truly didn’t poison the chocolate. Eat, you’ll feel better,” he repeated and took a bite of his piece before disappearing into the corridor.

The cat gave his face another smack and he laughed again, slowing down for a second when they finally walked past an empty cabin. The cat hopped down and sneaked inside. He looked around to see if anyone was outside, but it seemed like all passengers were still too terrified to walk out.

“You couldn’t just wake me up by tapping my hand, could you?” he muttered and stood there with folded arms, his lanky and towering figure leaning against the door that led to the next wagon. The cat didn’t walk back out, however. Instead, the door flew open and a woman’s head popped out. Instead of whiskers, she had a mop of wild hair on her head, pinned up into a messy chignon with a long wooden hairpin. Her locks were threaded with prematurely grey strands, the base colour as strange and uncertain as the feline’s fur.

She straightened the tweed vest under her jacket and brushed off a few spare cat hairs that rested on the shoulders of her shabby moss-green robe. The only thing that stayed the same were the eyes that seemed to glow when the light hit the right spot. And the single vertical scar running from her forehead to her cheek. Her pupils were still just thin slits, piercing Remus through and through, eyebrows knitted in an annoyed scowl.

“You could’ve spared me the chin scratches, idiot.” she spat the words at him, now in a human, female voice. Her pupils slowly got wider before finally rounding up to a normal shape. Remus snorted and opened the door for her, ruffling her hair as she walked past him.

“You know me, Mittens, I just couldn’t help myself. And you should trim your claws.” he simply stated as he followed her and handed her the rest of his chocolate. She threw it in her mouth and angrily chomped on it.

“And you should trim your tongue, preferably right at the base so I don’t have to listen to you. I’m not-“

“You’re not my pet, blah blah. We could’ve slept the whole way through if those things didn’t stick their fingers in a train full of children,” he muttered grumpily, trying to change the subject. After all, they just met him. A few seconds of silence passed between them, and only the confused muffled voices of the students echoed through the corridor as they walked by each cabin.

“Did you see his eyes?”

Hesperia’s voice cracked and she turned around at her old friend, sudden tears twinkling in her eyes. He gave her a melancholic smile.

“Did you see his nose? He’s like a textbook copy of Prongs. And the Longbottom boy! His ears are exactly like Frank’s.” he continued, his eyes lighting up when she enthusiastically nodded.

“I still can’t believe it.” her voice fell into a soft whisper and she looked ahead again when she stumbled over the peeling brown carpet on the ground.

“Merlin, did they ever glue this thing?” she cursed under her breath and swiftly reached to the inside of her robe, taking out a long, slender cherry wand.

“Reparo!” she muttered and the carpet straightened with a puff of dust, now perfectly adhered to the ground. She tucked her wand back somewhere into the layers of cloth and continued.

“Bloody hell, he looked like a beanpole, though. Not that James was ever a mountain of muscles, it’s just…I just hope the muggles weren’t starving him, that’s all. He lived under a staircase, for Godric’s sake.”

Remus hummed.

“Well, at least we know he’ll eat enough when we arrive at the feast.” he sighed, his upset stomach flipping at the thought of food. It was as if she could hear the wheels turning in his head because she turned around at him again, now with a concerned frown.

“Did you rest at all?”

“I tried. I slept like a log but…”

He fell silent.

“I know. It’s okay, the first night is always the worst, right? You’ll sleep better when we get there. I promise.” she gave him the softest of smiles and the terrible pit in his stomach melted.

She was like that. A few words and he felt weightless.

“I, for one, hope there will be pumpkin puffs. Merlin, I haven’t had a proper pastry in months. Excuse me, sorry, thank you.” she muttered repeatedly when they entered another wagon, now trying to navigate her steps between clusters of seventh-years that surrounded her from all sides. They finally came out of their cabins to find out what was happening. Both professors were being followed by all the eyes in the corridor.

It was uncommon for adults to travel by the Express. And they stuck out even more, as their robes certainly weren’t in the best shape. When they finally reached the driver’s cabin, Hesperia turned around and reached up to tame her friend’s hair as there were still strands sticking out all over since the moment he woke up. She couldn’t stop the patchy blush creeping up her cheeks when he answered to her touch with a warm smile, something she should’ve been used to after twenty years by his side.

“I knock, you speak,” she whispered and softly hit her knuckles against the mahogany door. Then she quickly sneaked around him and hid behind his back, giving him a light shove. He stumbled forward and chuckled.

“As if it was ever the other way around.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

Tag list (thanks so much! <3) : @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons

#tryskomys #moonchild #series #remus lupin series #remus lupin #hp #hp series #remus lupin angst #angst series #angst

[wickedreading]

MOONCHILD

Remus Lupin x OC reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ read chapter one here ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

THE HESPERIDES (Ἑσπεριδες): the goddess-nymphs of evening and the golden light of sunsets.

synopsis: Two Marauders murdered, one Marauder rotting in prison. The shattered group has left behind only rubble - the duo is summoned by Albus Dumbledore to share the open Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher position. The nostalgic stay at Hogwarts only reinforces the Fiendfyre of unspoken emotions they both buried deep inside for decades, unwilling to hurt each other. Remus and Hesperia move through the castle’s busy days as the ghosts of their past haunt the stone walls and remind them that the peace they so desperately fought for is still uncertain.

notes: here’s some backstory for this work! I’m not very experienced in writing reader-insert stories, but I wrote this with an ambiguous female reader in mind. I just don’t really feel comfortable with using the term “y/n” in text…kind of takes me out of the story when I write it, you know? So I decided to choose a substitute name that’s symbolic and simple at the same time! Think of it as a nickname, a cool stand-in token. The features of our heroine are very vague and as bendable as possible, except for the mentions of greying hair, scarring and a nameless unusual eye color, which are all an essential part of the story.

I certainly didn’t want to quote any existing scenes word for word, so the events and vignettes are a cluster of material from the English books, the translated Czech books (which slightly differ), movies, headcanons, and my imagination that I threw into a cauldron and mixed until this story came out!

I hope you’ll enjoy this ride and that I’ll do justice to the story that we all cherish and love <3

(ps.: jk rowling sucks bye)

Tag list: @wickedsingularity @messyr-moons

#tryskomys #moonchild #series #remus lupin series #remus lupin #hp #hp series #remus lupin angst #angst series #angst

[wickedreading]

Flooded

SteveRogers x Female!Reader

summary: There was something off in the air that morning - Y/N should have known. But bad things always happen when you least expect them. The life she was living was threatened by the one secret she hoped would never be revealed. And now that it had, there was no going back.

a/n: Welcome to heartbreak city! This is dedicated to my 2015 teen wolf obsession (make sure to tell me when you find the passage). I know it's sad and angsty; but I put a bunch of fluff in there too. I hope you enjoy - as always, feedback is appreciated!

word count: 5.5k

warnings: torture, trauma, drowning, experimenting on people (in flashbacks), mentions of abuse, mentions of dying, angst (in case that wasn't clear), swearing, idiots in love, fluff, and a happy ending :)

I don't think the bad parts are super descriptive, but please do not read if anything mentioned in the warnings makes you uncomfortable (18+ only!).

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

This just captures the vibe too well. You'll know the passage... i'll never fall in love with myself - Zeph

It’s normal to feel your heart in your head right? Like it’s pounding so hard that it literally makes your veins jump beneath your skin? There was a rush of adrenaline shooting through Y/N‘s Body. Pain sharp as lightning zickzacking its way down her spine and up again. Her lungs felt tight. Solid. As if they were of stone weighing her down and not giving in to her urge to breathe. It felt like that. And the look at the rusted metal door with the white number ’15’ brought back an awful lot of pain. Blue and green splashing their way through her brain, voices layering over one another, and a distinct smell of chemicals in her nose. Oh no. She was back there. Right now. How was that possible? How did it get that far? Were there not a bunch of people making sure that this would never happen to her again? A shiver overtook her but at the same time, sweat assembled on her skin. The room was wet and moldy and sterile all at once. No. No. No. She escaped, she was safe - fought her way through hell to get there. There was no way this was really happening.

Dull voices broke through to her. “We’re at 12 Minutes”. “180, going down”. Beeping of sorts and then - somehow, through all the water and noise, the unremarkable sound of pen on paper. What an odd thing to remember, right? But Y/N recalled thinking ‘what an odd thing to hear’ back then. Not now, though. Now it was… normal. But that day it wasn’t. It was in fact the very first time it had ever happened and the moment everyone had seemed to work towards. Even if Y/N didn’t know it back then, she was the breakthrough Hydra needed to create yet another group of human weapons. One that luckily never saw the light of day.

They didn’t know. And it should stay that way. Y/N didn’t want to be associated with Hydra anymore. She never did. She wanted to be herself when she joined the Avengers. A woman with power and endurance and, well, certain enhanced abilities. There was one person that knew how she got them, and that person was Nick Fury. But he had promised to keep his mouth shut. Y/N held onto that promise because it kept her from losing her mind - reminded her that she became who she was without their help. She had escaped, and fought, and grieved, and wept in order to get over that old self. And yet, despite all the hard work, she was in that old skin again.

It shouldn’t be possible though. She had put a recognizable amount of time into burying every piece of evidence of her past life - Her dumb anxiety included. But here it was: dark and strong and the thing that would ruin everything, every piece of harmony she had associated with its absence. 

Y/N was frozen to the ground, the image of the door branding itself into her mind and leaving a burning hole in its wake that made her head feel blank. Because that’s how it had always been: at first there is so much going on in your head that it feels like exploding and then, all of a sudden, it's wiped off everything. And all you are left with is this shell of a body that is not responsive to anything.

She didn’t know how long she had been standing in that hallway. A minute? Maybe an hour? Time moves differently when you’re not really there. But after whatever amount of time had passed, another voice rang through to her. A deep, and reasoning one, pressing and dripping of worry, though. Y/N shook her head. Steve. Steve was here.

❁ ❁ ❁

“I can’t have my team zoning out on missions.” The impatient voice echoed through the room accommodated by an expensive pair of shoes clicking on the polished floor. “We’ve had the problem before and I don’t like being lied to. Tell me what’s going on or she’s off.” Toni was pacing the floor of the common room until he came to a stop in front of Fury with his hands resting on his hips impatiently. But the man dressed in black didn’t do so much as move a muscle. He was casually lounging on the cushioned chair, waiting for his employee to finish.

“This might not feel like a big problem to you, Nick, but wait until half the Avengers are wiped out because Will Byers over here risks their lives by not cooperating.” Fury’s eye twitched when it lifted to the woman tugged into the corner. She had already been staring at him, trying to drag out the unavoidable, but there was no stopping this. She knew that, and he knew that too. 

“I can’t.” He said while still staring at Y/N. Nick would have done everything to prevent this very moment from happening, he had kept his promise for years. But this - this was the signal for her to know: ‘It’s on you now. You make the call.’

Y/N stared down at her hands that were nervously fumbling in her lap. Though from a distance it might have looked like she was disinterestedly avoiding everyone's eyes on her. Because they were - especially a specific pair of blue ones. Every single person in the room was expecting her to say something. Even more so the man whose worried expression hadn’t faded ever since he had dragged her out of that base hours ago. And even now - away from harm and safely huddled in the confines of the compound, his unrelenting stare was drenched in fear and urgency. Y/N didn't even have to look up to confirm her suspicions. Steve had not moved ever since she sat down in that chair, his arms crossed, shoulders hunched, and eyebrow furrowed as his gaze locked on her. He probably tried to find something - a twitch of a brow or the corner of her mouth - something to tell him that she was okay. But Y/N fought with everything she had not to give him that - because she was in fact not okay. She was far from it, and the storm of emotions rioting through her stomach did very well prove it as nausea crept up her throat.

She was about to reveal the very thing she had kept hidden for years - something she never thought would get dug up again. But here she was: moments away from having every assumption about her changed for the worse. And Y/N hated it. She hated that this would be defining who she was from now on. Because it always did. It happened with Bucky and it happened with Wanda, hell even Steve didn’t get away without being associated with Hydra. Even if his story bore a different relationship to the World War II organization. 

Y/N didn’t want to tell them, but deep down she knew that she would. Because what were her other options? Leaving the Avengers and drowning in sorrow over the lost family she had gained not too many years ago? God, that sounded like the villain origin story. No, she had to come clean, even if it hurt her and her status and possibly every other person surrounding her right now.

A wave of heat overtook her body, but her hands were cold. There was no going back - Y/N owed it to the team. Tony had every right to know what had put his people in danger today, but that didn’t change the fact that it would hurt nonetheless. Because she would be brought back there in her mind. And when she slowly inhaled to talk again, she tried to remember what it felt like to be free, even if the rushing of water already flooded her ears.

“You know when you’re drowning you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out.” Y/N was still staring at her fingers, desperately holding onto something she could feel. She was nervous to say the least, even if she knew exactly what her next words were going to be. 

“It’s called voluntary apnea.” She had known it for years, starting with picking up pieces of conversation in the labs and ending with a reality-shattering google search that settled the gravity of what had actually happened to her. Y/N closed her eyes as she remembered that day, trying to hold the hot tears pooling in her eyes at bay. 

“It’s like no matter how much you’re freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding.” We’re at 12 minutes. 180, going down. Just fucking breathe. “Then when you finally do let it in, that’s when it stops hurting.” Her voice was shaky now but she was determined to pull through. Though her head was still hanging low - almost ashamed at what she was going to say next. “It’s not scary anymore, it’s… it’s actually kind of peaceful.” She shrugged weakly. “At least that’s what I told myself.” 

She paused then, mentally preparing for the next part was impossible, but for some reason, she still couldn’t get it over with. This was it. This was the moment she was going to change in their eyes. The moment she would turn into a charity case that deserved nothing but sad looks and encouraging shoulder taps. And the thought of that made the lump in her throat grow. One last shaky breath and then she finally looked up, eyes locking with that of a blonde Super Soldier whose posture had faltered drastically since she last looked at him. A grey and brooding shadow had overtaken his cerulean orbs and it was shaking with the plead that settled in between: ‘Please tell me that’s not true.’ 

The first tear found its way down Y/N’s cheek, goosebumps rippling through her but her next words were said steadier than ever before. “I drowned in that room. One hundred and eighty-six times.”

And there it was: pity. Thick and unmistakable - smeared all over their faces. Y/N didn’t want it - dismissed it like a hot plate, pushing it further and further away from her on the table until she, herself, was backed up against the wall. They should stop pitying her. Try to feel what she felt but that proved itself difficult. Because Y/N didn’t feel anything. She’d expected to hear the voices in her head shouting numbers or smell the sterile smell of sanitizer or be unable to move - anything. But her mind was blank. It had all stopped buzzing as soon as she had stopped talking. With that last syllable, all the flashbacks faded into darkness and all that was left was this huge empty space. And she reveled in the calmness in her head for a second, but then Steve stepped forward with a heartbreaking look on his face and when he said her name and reached out his hand, that’s when her pulse picked up.

Y/N couldn’t do this - not from Steve, who was the only person whose opinion really mattered to her. Those dreadful eyes bored into hers when she sprung up from the chair, legs screeching over the dark floor, and then, she bolted. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve watched as Y/N ran out of the common room, a blank stare covering his features while his heart grew heavy with every step she took from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Tony screamed.

“She didn’t want you to know.” Fury answered, and his voice hosted a sense of sadness.

Y/N. A Hydra experiment. And Steve hadn't known. He would have never known had they not happened to raid the base she had been kept at. It killed Steve to know that he could have prevented today from happening. He could’ve told Fury what a bad idea it was had he just known. But he didn’t. Somehow it unsettled him that Y/n chose not to tell him. It was traumatic and painful but did she really think that he would judge her for it? He of all people. No, he would never.

A look at Bucky rattled another zap of pain through his bones. His friend had this distinct mystery etched on his face. And when Steve shot him a questioning glare, Bucky jerked his head to the side, signaling for the blonde to follow him. 

Bucky’s shoulders were stiff when Steve watched them leading the way to a private lounge area and the spring in his step slightly faltered. 

When he had woken up that morning, Steve would have never guessed that the day would bring such dramatics. It was a simple mission - one he had done several times, too. And yet it could have not gone worse than today. Steve couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him, he knew that. His position as Captain didn’t allow him to let them lead his choices. But right now, with Bucky visibly agitated and Y/N clearly upset as well, that duty seemed near impossible. He cared too much for both of those people. 

Bucky stopped by the window, his gaze focused outside where the rain pattered aggressively against the concrete. He swallowed thickly before his head turned to his best friend.

“I think I remember her, Steve... I remember seeing her in the base.” Bucky finally confessed, though there was a distance in his words. And despite the information doing fairly little to calm Steve’s nerves, he was glad that his friend condoned in him. 

“You do?” A hopeful wave of emotions washed him over, suggesting that he might get a little more information about Y/N’s situation. And that maybe... he had been looking out for her back then. Yes, Bucky was most certainly sedated by hydra at that time, but the Winter Soldier had proven time and time again that he was not completely clouding Bucky and his sense for the good.

“I was there. I was-“ Bucky stopped as if he had suddenly said too much. A dreadful look overtook his eyes before his jaw wired shut and Steve’s hopeful feelings vanished.

“What? What is it?” He pressed, but his friend remained silent. 

Panic rose in his chest with every second filling the quiet and Steve couldn’t help but feel like the words Bucky had withheld from him drew far heavier consequences than he had anticipated.

“I - I can’t tell you that, Steve. I think you should talk to her.” 

Why did everyone decide they had to hide things from him today? What could have possibly been so bad? 

“Anything else I should know?” Steve asked stiffly, a slight coldness overtaking his mind.

Bucky shook his head with what looked like guilt. Nonetheless, after a frustrated huff, Steve thanked Bucky and made his way to the dormitories.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed before his chest and a worrisome look pressing on his features. But Y/N just stared blankly ahead, ignoring the boring stare from the hallway. She didn’t want him to be here. Because he was - and that Y/N was 100 percent certain of - here to tell her things she didn’t want to hear. 

Their relationship had just recently reached the brooding edges of the pot. So close to overflowing into uncharted territory for the both of them. But for once in her life, Y/N had been excited about where it spilled. She wanted to feel the burning hot sensation on her skin and be dragged down into its endless abyss of warm feelings and excitement. But the information she had just dropped had taken the pot from the flame. She knew it the moment her eyes met Steve’s. They were dull, and lifeless, and sad. He had probably registered how much work she would be - would not see her as equal anymore. More of a menace than someone he could actually enjoy life with. And it broke her heart.

To say the least, there were far more parts of hers broken than her heart at this point. But Y/N didn’t know how to cope with them. For all her life, she had pushed it away. Brushed it off like it was nothing except a memory destined for her past, only allowed to creep to the surface when the dark corners of her mind leaked into the rational part of her. These times were not with people, especially not Steve - who was her captain and something more... up until now, that was.

Nonetheless, she needed a friend and Steve was the closest thing to that. Since more was probably not within her reach anytime soon, she decided to give into the nagging urge to spill every feeling on the floor before her. She looked up at him when he walked into the room and that’s when a dam of tears broke. She was ready to lay it all out bare for him. She had to, because for some reason - from one second to the other - all the things she had kept hidden for the past years felt unbearable to hold in. They seeped through her eyes in form of salty water and leaked through her nose and eventually built a big fat lump in her throat, one that was not possible to swallow. She had to get it out, along with all the other things hiding beneath.

Steve laid a warm hand on her trembling shoulder. A soft stroke pushed the last bit of reluctance from her body and prepared her to make it all go away. He was so close, but for some reason, she felt further away from him than ever before.

“You know I never stopped counting,” she whispered through ragged breaths. The nights in the dark cell encased her like a fog. Cold and moldy smells and the sound of dripping water echoed through her skull with every word she revealed to Steve. 

“I thought I would lose track at one point - maybe die,” she huffed, bitterness seeping through her tone, “but they pulled me back from the dead so many times… sometimes I feel like I got stuck somewhere in between.” Not really living - not really there. But she wouldn’t say that out loud. Not again, at least. She did it once - to the Winter Soldier, when she had thought to see a glimpse of humanity seeping thought the tough exterior. But it didn’t change a thing then too.

The movement of Steve’s hand stopped but he caught himself after a beat. He probably knew what she was thinking. And he probably also thought that dying was the cowardly way out of her situation, which was why a wave of shame came over her. 

“You know what’s funny? I’ve tried so hard to keep this a secret in order to have people like the real me and now... I feel like the only way I have any chance with the people I love is by giving this all away.” And it was true. Y/N felt like the last thing keeping her connected to Steve and the others was her cooperating and coming clean. She would be the prettied avenger, the one they always felt like they had to look out for - and she hated that because, really, the last thing Y/N wanted was to be babied - but if it was the last chance of keeping even a piece of them within her reach, she would have no choice but to take the deal. She would never be seen as an equal again. Always the inferior that never got over her trauma but if it meant staying with her family, she would be just that. Even if it was not even half of what she had made herself to be.

Steve’s eyes softened but at the same time, they filled with worry. His shoulders looked like they urged him to speak but his mouth closed as soon as it opened. And the last shimmer of hope vanished from Y/N’s consciousness. She wasn’t ready to let him go into pure friendship again, not when they had been dancing around the edge of something more for so long now. And she realized that now. So much, in fact, that she decided it would be better to just shut the whole thing off before the situation played out the way it was doomed to. Maybe that way she had a little more time to dwell in her fantasies. 

With that thought in mind, she licked up the last pieces of pride she had and patted her hand on Steve’s knee.

“Don’t worry about it, Captain. Thank you for checking in but I’m okay.” She said steadily, though she couldn’t help but notice the slump in the man’s shoulders beside her when she led him to the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

Captain, she had called him Captain. Steve exhaled on his way to his room. For some reason, he was devastated by that even more than the events that had taken place just half an hour prior. She didn’t trust him. She never trusted him enough, for that matter, to tell him about her past. A past he very well shared and understood better than any other person on the team - well, except Bucky... and Wanda.

He had wanted to tell her that she was okay now. That she should not let her past define her. That he would never in a million years even consider neglecting her because of it. But he couldn’t. For some reason, he had been still beside her like a stupid puppet. 

Tears brimmed in his eyes when he defeatedly sunk onto his bed. He wanted to stay rational. He wanted to think it through before burning up into flames, but his heart was pounding like a sledgehammer and his brain was running a mile a minute in opposite directions. There was no possibility to think straight. 

His body felt torn between the two most powerful organs within him and they were fighting like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to punch the wall and lay the softest kiss on Y/N’s lips at the same time. It was infuriating. 

For the first time in a long time, Steve had no idea what to do, or how to behave. There were no rules in the territory he and Y/N had created for themselves. There were times when he could come up behind her and press her into his chest and others when he wouldn’t even dare look at her. Right now, neither of these were an option, unfortunately. 

Of course, deep down Steve knew that he had to talk to her again. Make sure she knew where their differences lay and clearly state what he had been thinking about the whole situation. But his heart was screaming so loud into his head that that thought never reached his ears. 

It was strange, Steve was never the one to lose control over his emotions like this. But this situation felt as though it deserved every last drop of the feelings he had to offer. It was because of Y/N, of course. She tumbled up his feelings every time she looked at him. And to say that the look she had given him in the meeting room had shattered all his perceptions regarding her and her wellbeing was an understatement. He had been worried about her before. But never like this. Never in a way that had both his and her identity questioned. 

For some reason, he could deal with death threats and vital injuries - it was sadly a normal routine in his line of work - but the added emotions that came with everything concerning Y/N ordered a whole new level of consciousness to his duties. He no longer felt the need to care for his team and make sure they got out of and through missions unharmed because it was his job, he now had to care for them because his heart was involved if anything were to happen to any of them. And he had to care more about himself, too because there were people who would get hurt if he were to. Y/N did that - she had sucked him into her warm and welcoming self and Steve had embraced it with all his being.

Now, he saw how dangerous that was. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. Getting closer to her was the best thing that had happened to Steve in a long time. He was happier and more energetic.

It dawned on him, then, that he had to tell her that. No matter how rage fed his brain or love blinded his heart was in the moment. Y/N deserved to know. Much like he had deserved to know about her secret much sooner. This thought sent another wave of frustration through his body. Steve tried to push it away, but it lay heavy on his heart when he stepped into the hallway, trying to suppress the nervousness brooding up within him.

❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N twitched up when the door slammed into the wall. When it bounced back from the gray concrete, there was a sizable hole visible where it jammed. But as her ears picked up on something else, that’s when her eyes wandered past the door to the heaving man within its frame. Steve’s eyes were dull, his shoulders hunched but his heart was beating at a rapid speed. He must’ve heard it in his head from the pressure with which it traveled over to Y/N. 

Thumb, Thumb.

Steady and yet rapidly pounding. And for some odd reason, it had a soothing aspect on the woman. But before Y/N could register and ask what was going on, Steve stepped into the room. He was hesitant but still carried himself with a familiar confidence she’d only ever seen from him.

“I’m sorry,” he straightened up, “...for the door, I- I dint think it would open that easily.”

“It’s okay.” Y/N was still seated on her bed - hadn’t moved a muscle since Steve left.

“Y/N...” His voice was heavy with sadness, though she didn’t dare look at him. There was no going back. He would be saying what she had been dreading from the second she confessed. She didn’t also need to watch the disappointment in his eyes when he told her that itwas over - whatever it was. “I know what happened to you can’t be changed.” He sat down beside her, though there was a significant distance between the two Avengers now. “And I can only imagine how hard today has been for you. I don’t think I would be as strong as you are keeping this for yourself for so long. But you don’t have to shut us out. Please don’t shut me out, Y/N. We can help you, we can be there for you. Just... please. I don’t know how to-” he inhaled deeply but his speech didn’t continue like she had expected it to.

Y/N just sat there, her fingernails suddenly the most interesting thing to ever exist, even though there was a distressed man sitting inches away from her. Whatever he had said, because frankly, the words had swayed by her like a breeze, sounded like heartbreak to her - for her. There was pretty clear that Steve didn’t see a future for them. And if Steve thought this - the person she had grown closest to over the years - she could only imagine what the rest of the team was thinking. 

Tears burned in Y/N’s eyes and when the first one fell in her lap, she closed her eyes in pain. “You pitied me..,” she whispered, the burning in her throat threatening to swallow her whole, “You felt bad for me... you of all people, you decided I need comforting.”

Steve sent a confused look at her once her eyes met his. He was looking through her gaze as if the answer to his questions lay beneath them.

“Of course I do.” He spoke calmly but irritated. Y/N shut her eyes again, trying to ignore the confirming string of pain wash over her. Somehow hearing him say it out loud was worse than she imagined.

“It shouldn’t even concern you, Steve. I’ve managed very well on my own over the past years. There is no reason for anyone to pity me-”

“Not pity,” he interrupted, “concern, yes. Pride, worry, fear... I feel all of those things for you. But not Pity.”

“But why.” The words were barely audible through the stream of tears that had broken loose by now. Y/N couldn’t possibly comprehend why Steve would say that. Because she didn’t see how Steve could see anything but her past from now on. She had struggled to do so herself at first. It had taken years to finally become herself again, even if that self bore a terrible secret for everyone else.

“Because I admire your strength. And I care about you.” His hand hovered over hers, but he didn't dare touch her just yet. “I care about you more than I probably should.” He closed his eyes and retracted his hand when he saw the dread in her eyes. “And I try to ignore it, I really do but then you come at me with that smile and with your wit, and I... I can’t stop my heart from racing.”

“I know I can hear it.” She was whispering again, feeling like an intruder for listening in on something as personal as his heartbeat.

Steve looked at her with an indescribable look on his face. “I hear yours, too, you know? But for some reason, it’s telling me other things than your eyes are.”

“What are my eyes telling you?”

Steve’s fingers grazed her chin, moving upward until his thumb stroked the skin on her cheek. “That you are afraid of something. That you are waiting for something bad to happen... but I don’t know what.” Y/N nodded in awe - somehow this man could read her better than she could herself, which was scary and comforting at the same time.

“And what is my heart telling you?” She took his hand and placed it upon her chest, where a steady rhythm pushed through her skin.

“The same thing I’ve been trying to say.” His heartbeat was steady and sure as well. It was fast, yes, but not in a bad way. There was an unfamiliar glimmer in his eyes when they softened upon her love-dazed face. Maybe her intrusive thoughts had blinded her after all...

“And what-”

Suddenly, his soft lips pressed to hers. A warm and tingling feeling traveled over Y/N’s body as her arms almost automatically reached up to his shoulders. Steve pulled her closer by her waist, deepening the kiss with the lean of his head. He was warm and he felt like the hug she had subconsciously craved ever since staring at that white number ’15’ in the base hours ago. All the tension drained from her like a waterfall. Steve pulled the fear from her body with every stroke of his tongue against hers. And for the first time in a while, Y/N felt as though everything had fallen into place. She was right where she belonged. The squeeze of Steve’s fingers reminded her of that.

When they pulled apart, breathless and floating, she tightened the grip on his collar.

“But- I thought...” Y/N breathed out shakily. Her forehead was firmly pressed against Steve’s and her lips were grazing his with every word she whispered, sending waves of shivers down her spine.

“What? That I’d sign you off as a charity case?” Steve locked his eyes on hers for the hundredth time. There was so much emotion in them. “I would never underestimate you. I know you are stronger than half the people on this team... well mentally that is.”

“Stop,” she chuckled before pressing her face into his chest. Steve kissed the top of her head as his hand began to soothingly stroke up and down her back, leaving a warm trail of comfort in its wake.

“I really like you, Y/N... and if you’d let me, I would like to take you out sometime.”

Y/N smiled. It seemed silly how worried she had been about his feelings now. Considering hers were just as strong for the man in her arms, there had not been a reason to believe it was different for him. Though the edges of self-consciousness nipped at her brain every now and then. Those were the monsters pushing intrusive thoughts into her heart - convincing her of things, for which there was no indignation. She would learn it with time - that her past didn’t define her. It did to some extent, but it would never become her entire identity. And until she could tell herself that alone, she would have Steve to help her remember.

“I would love to, Steve.”

Steve pulled back and held her by her shoulders before leaning in again. A content smile etched on his lips before they sealed to hers again, capturing her in another searing kiss.

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[wickedreading]

Genres Masterlist

Angst

All angst Angst drabbles Angst headcanons Angst imagines Angst multi-shots Angst one-shot Angst series Avengers Bruce Banner Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Tony Stark DC Steve Trevor HP Charlie Weasley Remus Lupin Star Trek Jim Kirk Leonard McCoy RL Chris Evans

Fluff

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Smut

All smut Smut drabbles Smut headcanons Smut imagines Smut multi-shots Smut one-shots Smut series Avengers Bruce Banner Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Thor Odinson Tony Stark Wanda Maximoff Dragon Age Alistair Theirin HP Charlie Weasley Star Trek Jim Kirk Leonard McCoy X-Men Wolverine RL Chris Evans

[wickedreading]

Characters Masterlist

Fandoms

Avengers DC Dragon Age Harry Potter Real Life Star Trek X-Men

Characters/People

Avengers Bruce Banner Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Daisy Johnson Darcy Lewis Loki Laufeyson Melinda May Natasha Romanoff Nick Fury Peggy Carter Pepper Potts Phil Coulson Pietro Maximoff Sam Wilson Scott Lang Steve Rogers Thor Odinson Tony Stark Vision Wanda Maximoff DC Steve Trevor Dragon Age Alistair Theirin HP Charlie Weasley Remus Lupin Star Trek Jim Kirk Leonard McCoy Spock X-Men Laura Kinney Wolverine RL Chris Evans Chris Pine Sebastian Stan Tom Hiddleston Multiple Steve x Reader x Bucky Bucky x Reader x Wanda Jim x Reader x Leonard

[wickedreading]

Types Masterlist

Drabble Headcanon Imagine Multi-shot One-shot Series

Drabbles

Avengers Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Thor Odinson Tony Stark Wanda Maximoff Dragon Age Alistair Theirin X-Men Wolverine RL Chris Evans

Headcanons

Avengers Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Natasha Romanoff Pepper Potts Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Tony Stark Star Trek Jim Kirk Dragon Age Alistair Theirin X-Men Wolverine

Imagines

Avengers Steve Rogers Wanda Maximoff Star Trek Jim Kirk X-Men Laura Kinney Wolverine RL Chris Evans Chris Pine

Multi-shots

Avengers Steve Rogers RL Chris Evans Tom Hiddleston

One-shots

Avengers Bruce Banner Bucky Barnes Clint Barton Darcy Lewis Natasha Romanoff Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Thor Odinson Tony Stark Vision DC Steve Trevor Dragon Age Alistair Theirin HP Charlie Weasley Remus Lupin Star Trek Jim Kirk Leonard McCoy Spock X-Men Wolverine RL Chris Evans Sebastian Stan

Series

Avengers Steve Rogers Star Trek Jim Kirk

[wickedreading]

Kinktober Day 7

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: AOS!Jim Kirk x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Shower sex; oral sex (male and female receiving); fingering; piv; unprotected sex

The instances were few and far between, but his help was better than you trying to monkey around with the inner workings of your car, your auto-tractor, your auto-planter—hell, a time or two, he fixed your bicycle. Jim Kirk was whip-smart, good with his hands, and nice to look at. It always felt like an uneven exchange—your things fixed for a hot shower and a meal. But he never asked for more, and never took your money when you tried to pay him. 

He used to flirt when he came by. At least, he’d try to. You hadn’t known exactly how to take it at first. Usually, you just flubbed some sort of excuse and hurried off to do something else, or to pretend to do something else—anything to hide the flustered expression on your rapidly heating face. He’d make a pass or two at dinner, but when you flubbed those, too, he’d let it go. 

It was his smile that threw you. It was always so easy, and cocky—so disarming. And his eyes were so intense. When he looked at you, you felt like he could see right through you. It was at once comforting and maddening. Once the flirting attempts stopped, conversation became easier. 

You could usually find him when you needed him, and then one day, you just…Couldn’t. Winona told you that he’d left to join Starfleet. At the start, you sort of expected him to roll up to your barn when your tech broke down. You thought he’d ditch Starfleet the way he’d never really been able to stick to much else. But when he didn’t turn back up, well…You moved on. It was a bummer, sure, but you got over it for the most part. You found someone else to fix your mechs, though they seemed to never do the job just right. That was why you’d neglected calling them at the first sign of trouble with your auto-planter. You managed tiny patch fixes yourself. You learned to kick the can down the road until you absolutely had to call someone. 

That’s what found you sweating, oil-smeared, and frustrated in your barn as you peered at the inner-workings of the planter’s mechanism. You’d burned two of your fingers, jabbed two more with spark pieces. You let out a frustrated huff, wiping sweat from your brown before leaning back just a little. One more thing. You’d try one more thing before you threw in the towel. You leaned in again, raising your hands to the mechanism. You took up a wire that had fallen loose of its mooring. You braced your hand on the side of the planter, squinting just a little as you leaned in, raising the wire to where you were almost certain it was meant to go. 

For a moment, it seemed to be working—and then you felt a shock shooting through your fingertips and scuttling up your arm. You hissed, dropping the wire and wrenching your arm back before you reached up, whacking the side of the planter with a spitting, “Son of a bitch!”

“Well that’s not gonna fix it.” 

You whirled around, your heart leaping into your throat at the sound of his voice. He leaned in the doorway of the barn, his gaze and smile as disarming as ever. You swallowed thickly as you pushed yourself up and off of the stool that you’d been sitting on. 

“...Hasn’t hurt, so far,” You argued. 

“Doesn’t seem to like it’s helping, either.” 

He pushed off of the door frame, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He neared, eyes set intently on yours as he brushed past you. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the seat of the stool. You turned to watch him, arms folded stubbornly over your chest as he lowered himself to sit on the stool. He leaned in to assess the damage, setting his hand on the same place as you had just moments before. 

“...What are you doing back here?” You asked after a moment. 

“I’m on shore leave. Came to visit my mom. I was passing by earlier, expected to see the planter going.” 

“You see your mom already?” 

“Uh-huh.”  

You nodded a little, shifting from foot to foot as Jim leaned back again. It was a relief in a way that it shouldn't have been. It meant that he wouldn't be rushing off—or rather, that you wouldn't be holding him up.

“Can you pass me the magna-spanner?” He added.

“Uh—” You glanced around, spotting the toolbox by your foot before you leaned down, taking up the tool. You walked closer, holding it out to him. Jim turned his head, taking it with a mutter of thanks. Before you could draw away, he caught hold of your wrist. Your heart thudded as he held your hand carefully, looking over the irritated tips of your fingers. 

“...What’d you do?” He asked, warm breath making your fingers twitch where it brushed the stinging skin as he glanced up at you.

“I was just—” You faltered, nodding toward the planter. “I was fixing it.” 

Jim’s brows quirked in slight amusement. He held your gaze as he turned his head, brushing a tender kiss to the irritated fingertips. Then he let go, turning away from you to refocus on the planter. You tucked your arms across your chest again warily, fingers tingling, tipping your head as you watched him work. 

“You just gonna stand there?” He asked after a moment.

“Yes.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Just trying to see what you're doing so I can fix it next time.”

“How long has it been down?” 

“Um…” You considered, biting your lip, “Like…It’s been kinda messed up for about a month, but completely down for two—? Days? Maybe three.” 

“Everyone in this town forget how to fix a planter or something?” 

You rolled your eyes at the rhetorical inquiry, even as Jim turned and gave you a cheeky smile. 

“What else is broken around here?” He asked, turning back to the planter. You considered fibbing, telling him that this was it. Instead, you countered: “How much time do you have?” 

-- 

Where you used to leave Jim alone to fix things, now you trailed him around your barn, passing tools, asking questions, grabbing parts. Maybe he hated it—maybe he wasn’t in the mood for you to talk so much. But he took all of the questions in stride, offering you answers, tips, tricks he preferred to use. 

Night had fallen by the time Jim climbed down from the tractor with a contented sigh, tossing you the keys and drawing a rag that you'd given him out of his pocket. 

“Thanks,” You said, tucking them into your pocket. “It’s, uh…It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you here like this.” 

“Nah, s’alright. Glad I could help.” 

“You due back at your mom’s?” 

“Nope.” 

Jim looked up from where he was cleaning his hands on the rag, peering up at you from beneath his lashes. Your mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, your mind flooding with possibilities. 

“We should get cleaned up,” Jim offered before you could say a thing. 

“Right, yes. That’s a good, um—I mean, I feel grimy.”

-- 

It was an old house—been in the family for hundreds of years. Most of it had been updated, but you couldn’t remember the last time the lone bathroom had been fixed up. 

There was an old clawfoot tub, one that you hardly ever used. There was also a large shower, with glass walls and a granite bench. You knew that Jim knew the way to it, but you found yourself leading him up there, anyway. You stepped inside first, and you turned to see Jim hesitate at the door. He eyed the threshold before his eyes flickered to you. For the first time, you saw something other than his usual bravado. But then you nodded him closer, offered, “Coming?”, and his expression melted into a familiar, smiling ease. He took the two steps to get himself inside and shut the door behind. 

You turned to the shower, kicking your shoes off and nudging them into the corner of the room before you headed over to start the taps. You leaned in just far enough, and took your briefly hidden expression to let your nerves wash over you. Over the rough pounding of your heart, you could hear him coming closer. It was chased by the buzz of him undoing a zipper. You kept your back to him as you drew your shirt up and over your head, tossing it toward the hamper. 

“What made you change your mind?” He asked softly. You shrugged a little. 

“You haven’t been around much.” 

“Miss me?” 

“Don’t know when you’ll be around next, that’s all,” You insisted, reaching back to unhook and remove your bra. “Figured I may as well—while you’re nearby.” 

“Hard up for townies?” 

“...You’ve never been a townie, Kirk.” 

“No?” 

“You never wanted to be.” 

Jim was quiet for a moment before he took a step closer. You felt the heat of his body against your back as you undid your pants and pushed them down. The bathroom was beginning to warm with the rising heat of the water, though it had yet to fill the room with steam. You crouched down just a touch, tossing your pants and underwear in the same direction as the shirt and bra. 

You took one cursory glance over your shoulder, catching sight of Jim’s bare skin before you stepped into the shower. You dipped your head into the warm stream, sighing as it washed over your sweaty, oil-streaked, sore body. You took a step to the side just a bit to give Jim some room as he followed—but he didn’t seem to want room. He cuddled up against your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. You smiled, glancing down and watching the water run through his hair, trickling down the slope of his nose, over the curve of his lips, down the swell of his jaw. You hesitantly raised a hand, swiping your thumb through an errant smudge of oil. He smiled, nudging his head against your neck. You reached out, pumping some soap into your hand. You turned in his arms, rubbing your palms together and raising your hands. You smoothed them over his neck, then up over his jaw. You swept your thumbs, scrubbing gently to remove the sweat and oil from the apples of his cheeks. You felt him watching you as you carefully swept the soap over the bridge of his nose, and across his forehead. 

Jim walked you back carefully, tipping his head up into the spray. It was a relief, the way his eyes slid shut. It meant that he wasn’t watching you anymore. You smiled, rinsing your hands before you raised them, soothing away the stray suds. You slid your hands down, over his shoulders, tracing his toned arms, and scrubbing at the odd streak of dirt and oil that he'd missed with the rag. He blinked to clear a few drops of water, tipping his head down toward you. Jim’s hands slid over your middle before they skimmed further down, along your back. You smiled as he groped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he drew you closer. A giggle escaped you; you couldn’t help it. A smile bloomed across Jim’s voice at the sound.

He dipped his head, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. He guided your chin up just a touch, brushing his lips against yours. You’d been convincing yourself to take little leaps all evening—so why should this be any different? You surged in, pressing your lips to Jim’s. He hummed at the move, intrigued. One of his hands smoothed warmly up your back, pressing your slicked bodies together more acutely. You shivered at the brush of your hardening nipples against his chest. 

You smoothed a hand up Jim’s nape, running your fingers through his hair. The strands were slick and soft to touch. You tipped your head to the side just a touch, parting your lips. You couldn’t help but smile as your tongues teased together, mouths opening at nearly the same time. Jim laughed softly, steering you back toward the shower bench. 

“Read my mind,” He mumbled between kisses. You chuckled as he nudged you to sit. You peered up at Jim in the steamy room, resting your hands on his thighs. Before he could do anything else, you leaned in, trailing kisses down his torso. You smoothed your hand along his hip, trailing your nails lightly over his thigh before palming his hardening cock. You smiled as Jim’s hand lifted to rest against the wall behind you. You grasped his cock more firmly, twisting your wrist as you pumped him from the base. You peered up at him, smiling as he swept his tongue across his lips. You weren’t sure if it was meant to be a cue or not, but you leaned in nonetheless, poking your tongue out and swiping it along the underside of his head. 

Jim groaned low in his throat, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. You smiled, taking him into your mouth and letting your eyes slide closed. You focused on the warmth and weight of him as he slid between your lips, and the twitch of his shaft as you swirled your tongue along his glans. You tipped your head from side to side, sliding your mouth from his cock for a moment to tease your lips along the shaft before taking him in again, speeding the bob of your head.

“Fuck,” He groaned, resting his hand on the crown of your head. You held carefully still as he thrust into your mouth. You moaned softly, sliding your hands around Jim’s thighs and urging him on. Jim guided you a touch deeper, swiping his thumb along the nape of your neck and nudging you further down his shaft.

“You know,” He grunted, “That’s not why I wanted you to sit.” 

You leaned off of him just a touch, poking your tongue to catch a pearl of precum before tipping your chin up to catch sight of him. 

“No?” 

Jim shook his head, gently pushing your hand back from his cock. Before you could ask, or stand, or move, he knelt on the floor of the shower, between your legs. Your stomach fluttered with anticipation as he smoothed his hands up your inner thighs. His gaze darted between the apex of your thighs and your face, questioning. You shifted a little on the bench, nodding. Jim smiled, nodding you further forward. You scooted forward nervously, ass sliding slightly on the granite.

“You’re getting that look,” Jim commented, sliding his hands to your outer thighs. 

“What look?” You frowned, shaking your head. 

“The look you’d get when I used to flirt with you.” 

“Tha—Noooo,” You laugh, shaking your head a little bit, “No, that’s not my face. I mean—That was my face then, but that’s not what my face is doing right now.” 

“Oh-ho-ho, yes it is,” Jim chuckled, nodding. He knelt up, nudging his nose against yours. 

“We can slow down,” He offered, lips tenderly brushing yours. You smiled, raising your hands to tenderly cup his cheeks, pecking his lips. 

“I’m alright.” 

“You sure?” 

“Mhm. It’s just…It’s been a while, that’s all.” 

Jim let out a sympathetic hum, chasing you for another kiss. He nipped at your lip, giving it a cheeky tug before sucking it between his lips. You groaned, tracing his cupid’s bow before leaning back just enough to break the kiss for a heady, heated moment. He teased his tongue along yours, moaning softly into your opened mouth. You were so caught up in his kisses that you didn’t so much as gasp as he slid his fingers between your legs. He smoothed them carefully over your pussy lips first, giving it a few gentle passes, as if to acclimate you to the feeling. You leaned into his touch encouragingly. You felt his lips pull into a smile as he smoothed his middle finger upward gently, tapping, then swirling against your clit. 

Your mouth fell open with a shivering moan at the sensation. Jim took full advantage, lapping deeply into your mouth as he continued to work your clit over with soft, unhurried movements. As your kisses broke, you rested your forehead against Jim’s, panting slightly, eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling. Jim’s kisses drifted from your cheek to your jaw, and lower still as his fingers teased gently over your slickening cunt. He eased one finger in, letting out an encouraging murmur as your cunt fluttered around the digit. He nuzzled against your chest, lapping gently over one of your nipples before drawing it between his lips. 

You pulled in a gasp, arching up into his mouth as your hips rolled down against his touch. Jim eased the finger in deeper, grinding his palm in steady circles against your clit. He let go of one nipple in favor of the other, tongue flicking it incessantly. You tipped your chin down and found Jim grinning up at you as he eased another finger into your pussy. 

“That feel good?” He murmured. 

“Yes.” 

“You want more?” 

“Is that a serious question?” 

Jim laughed, leaning in and pecking your lips again before he lowered himself between your legs again. He kept his eyes on yours again as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your mound. You couldn’t help your bashful smile as he blinked those pretty blue eyes at you and teased his tongue out. He swirled it around your clit, gaze set on yours. And then, to your utter surprise, Jim moaned, his eyelids fluttering before falling shut. Your body prickled under the sweat and steam, stunned by Jim’s tongue lapped and laved over you. You wove your fingers through his hair, shifting your hips down against his tongue and fingers. He took each of your subtle directions in turn, leveling sucking kisses to your clit as your cunt throbbed around his fingers. 

You moaned, leaning back against the shower wall, the odd droplet of water splattering over your shivering, shuddering form. Jim nuzzled against your cunt, groaning more openly as he lapped broadly over your plumped lips. He twisted his wrist, easing another finger into you before curling them toward himself. You tightened your grip on his hair, drawing in a greedy breath as Jim pumped his wrist more quickly. 

“Fuck, Jim, I’m—” 

Jim hummed approvingly, sucking your clit more pointedly than before. You couldn’t get out another word as you hinged forward, knees tightening around his shoulders, thighs quivering as your hips shoved against his lips and hand. Jim leaned off just a touch, smoothing his tongue along your clit until you loosened your grip on his hair, scooching back from him again. You looked down at Jim, taking in his bright eyes, his grin, his slick lips and chin, and his hard cock where it bobbed between his legs. 

--  

“Fuck,” Jim hissed, one hand steadying your hip, the other bracing against the wall as he eased his cock into you. “Remind me why we waited so long to do this?” 

“I don’t know,” You groaned, pushing back against him, “But I think you’re gonna have to visit more often.” 

“To fix your equipment?” 

“Is that what we’re calling this?” 

Jim laughed openly, resting his head against your shoulder again. You could feel his forehead shift, and were certain that he was staring at your ass, eyeing where his cock disappeared into you. 

“Shit,” He breathed, “Look at that.” 

Your body went hot with his warm murmur, and you found yourself tipping your head forward to rest against the cool tile on the wall. 

“C’mon, Kirk, you can’t tell me you’re hard up when you’re out there.” 

“Don’t say ‘hard up’.” 

Your snicker turned to a cackle as Jim snaked his arm from your hip to wrap around your middle. He only gave you a moment or so to adjust before he carefully rolled his hips. You shivered, pressing back into him. The two of you pushed against one another at once, each loosing your own pleased groans and low curses. 

“Screw coming home. I’m bringing you back to the Enterprise with me,” Jim groaned, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Move,” You urged, “Please?” 

His only answer to your plea was to snap his hips forward. Your voice caught in your throat, fingers flexing against the wet tile as you fought the urge to grip at something. Jim kept up a steady pace, the slick slapping of your hips mingling with the pattering of the shower against the floor. His hand slipped between where you were pressed up against the wall, and you let out a shaky whimper as his pruned fingertips brushed over your still-sensitive clit. You ground back against him with renewed force, chasing the stretch of his cock and the slide of his fingers. 

“Fuck, Jim,” You moaned as his pace picked up, his grip on your middle tightening. The fingers on your clit seemed to shake and strain to keep up his ministrations. You could feel his pace becoming more and more frantic, swiping and circling as he had with his tongue. Your own release was growing closer and closer, and you were certain from his movements that he wasn’t far behind. You reached back, palming his hip and urging him on as the feeling crested. You came with a whine of his name, your cunt clutching at him. Jim pushed a growl into your skin as his hips pushed against yours with harsher, renewed purpose. It was only a handful of thrusts before he came with a groan, hips stalling, slamming, and then stalling again as he filled you. 

Neither of you moved for a few long moments. Then Jim lifted his head, nosing sweetly along your neck. 

“We should get cleaned up before you run out of hot water.” 

You reached a hand out, waving it under the shower spray. 

“Too late.” 

--  

“Thanks for your help today.” 

“You can always send me a message, you know, something,” He offered, “The next time something breaks down. I could talk you through the fix.” 

You looked down, smiling a little, eyeing where James’ head rested on your shoulder. The two of you had moved to your bed after dinner. His hair was still a little damp, but not enough to be a bother. You shrugged. 

“I might. Depends on how bad it is. I was paying attention to what you were doing before, you know.” 

“Oh, I know,” Jim stretched widely before lazily throwing his arm around your middle. “You kept very close. And I’m an excellent teacher.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning your gaze up toward the ceiling. 

“I’ve had worse.” 

“...You better mean you’ve had a worse teacher,” Jim warned, tipping his head up to look at you. You forced your face into a contemplative pout, and only managed a, “Well…” before Jim was rolling over, skittering his hands along your sides. You shrieked, squirming and trying to bat his hands away. He caught hold of them easily, pinning them beside your head. You grinned, taking in his bright eyes, and his darling smile. It softened to something a little sweeter as he dipped his head, given you a long, soothing kiss. 

“Mind if I stop by again?” He murmured, nuzzling his nose against yours, “The next time I’m on shore leave?” 

“To check on my equipment?” 

“...Is that what we’re calling this?”

"Already reneging on your offer to take me with you?" You added, worming your arms out of his grip and tucking your hands behind your head. "That's cold, Kirk."

"Well if we're both up there, we won't know when the planter's down."

"That's a tidy little loophole."

"I've built my career off the back of tidy little loopholes."

You chuckled, raising a hand to stroke his cheek as you nodded.

"I'd like for you to stop by again...If you want to."

"I want to," He reassured, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to your neck, "I haven't tried that tub out yet."

Tag list: @leaveinthelurk ; @missredherring ; @fangirlfreakingout ; @stevie25 ; @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @karie-me-home ; @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly ; @guyfieriii (tried to tag and it won’t let me D: ) ; @moonlightburned ; @amneris21 ; @shiftingsands14 ; @cloudohell ; @blueeyesatnight ; @inlovewithhisblueeyes ; @reaperofmen ; @winchestershiresauce

#youvebeenlivingfictional #Star trek #jim kirk oneshot #Jim Kirk smut #smut oneshot #Smut #Oneshot #Jim Kirk

[wickedreading]

Emergency Contact

(Steve Rogers x Reader)

All fluff

Word count: 3,081

Summary: After three years together, you finally experience the joy of being Steve’s emergency contact.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, guns, illness, and medicine. Loopy Steve! My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked.Minors DNI.

AN: I love writing Steve fluff, and honestly, I think the world needs more of it!!!! All mistakes are my own, hope you love it! <3

Steve Rogers was a man of many traits, but needy and attention seeking was definitely nowhere on that list. Well, at least that was the case for most of his life.

The Avengers loved teasing him for the way his striking authority and stubborn independence completely crumbled away into a pile of dust the moment you walked into the room. Just the sight of you relaxed his stiff posture and brought a permanent grin to his otherwise expressionless face.

Sure, off duty Steve was all laughs and smiles. Any time he spent with the team that didn't involve boring meetings or adrenaline pumping athletics, his personality was larger than life. But for some reason, you pulled it out of him even when he tried his hardest to stay neutral.

He never accepted help or allowed others to love him the same way he helped and loved everyone around him, unless it was you.

Which made you the very obvious first choice as his emergency contact, and you had been since two months into your relationship with the Captain. It wasn't even something that was discussed or you were informed of. It was an executive decision made by Tony the moment he realized you were pretty much the only person qualified to be there.

Now here you were three years later. Still americas sweetheart, and still the perfect emergency contact. Three years of waiting for an emergency call that never came, well, that was until it did.

Steve, the selfless and heroic bastard he was, snuck onto enemy lines and over a blockade to free over two-hundred hostages.

Did he free them? Yes.

Did he get shot in the head? Yes.

Did it only get worse from there? Yes.

Luckily for him, his helmet bared most of the burden. It did it's job exactly as intended, stopping the bullet and protecting his precious skull and even more precious brain. But after years of wear and bravery it's life came to an end as it inevitably cracked in half.

That resulted in a gnarly concussion after Steve was thrown off a five story building just moments after the helmet met its fate. The doctor explained to you that because the concussion was combined with pretty routine injuries, the serum could only do so much for Steve and that he was temporarily immunocompromised.

Steve sat patiently on the edge of a gurney while you listened to the doctor tell you all about how to take care of him. Your eyes occasionally drifted over to your human golden retriever and you almost wanted to slap him across his perfect concussed head.

He held an ice pack to the back of his head with a proudly smug expression on his face. His suit was tattered and torn, and you could see dark red stains of tacky pooled blood. His arms were scraped and he had deeply pronounced cuts on his temple, lips and nose. Your personal favorite part was that he could barely keep his eyes open, yet after they would slowly close, he would rip them open and blink a few times just to get his vision to focus on you.

After you and the doctor debriefed, you waited until he left the room to address Steve.

"You exhaust me, you big dumb idiot" You quietly scolded him after the door softly clicked into it's closed position. "I've been worried sick about you since I got the phone call almost two hours ago and you're sitting here smiling?!"

"You're so pretty" Hir smile stretched wider as you pulled him into a tight hug. "I missed you"

"I missed you too" You sighed into his hair. It was odd having his head below yours for once, but him sitting and you standing allowed for the unique experience.

Steve could tell that you really had been worried about him. You were practically melting into his arms, holding onto him so tight he thought that maybe he had actually died and came back to life. Even though your tight hold strained every screaming ache in his body, he held back winces and groans to allow you the comfort you needed.

"Please don't scare me like that ever again" Your sternness had quickly turned into worry and sympathy.

"'M sorry, darling. I didn't mean to" Steve slowly rubbed your back in attempts to appease your distress. "You know I'd never do anything that would keep me from coming home to you."

"You almost didn't" She denied his statement. "You were shot in the head and thrown off a building. That doesn't sound like something that would happen to someone just trying to go home"

"That's a normal Tuesday for me" He stated like it was a matter of fact.

"I hate Tuesdays" He could hear the pout in your voice before you pulled away and cradled his cheeks in your hands. "Are you okay?"

"I will be" He reassured you, but the pained expression on his face and the dulled blue in his droopy eyes told you that he definitely wasn't feeling good.

"I'm so happy you're home" You told him, but it came out in a broken whisper that allowed Steve to understand what you were really trying to say.

I'm so happy you made it home alive.

"Thank you for coming to get me" sincerity was laced into every word he spoke.

"Let's get you cleaned up and in bed" She grinned. "Doctor said you're on mandatory bed rest for three days. Are you going to listen, or did the fall make your hard head go soft?"

"I'm pretty sure my brain is a pile of mush right now, maybe three days would do me good" Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

Beyond your wildest expectations, your stubborn hard headed boyfriend actually did listen. He spent three whole days sleeping away in your shared bed, or the living room couch in the compound. It was almost concerning to everyone who passed by to see him so deeply asleep and almost lifeless.

Amongst the words those would use to describe Steve, restless and active were very high up. But now those were tossed out of the window and replaced with needy.

By day four he wouldn't even let you out of his sight, but you didn't really want to leave him either. He spent hours curled up in a little ball with a pained scrunched up face.

His head was pounding, his muscles were sore, and more recently he found himself with a scratchy throat and blocked sinuses.

Having not been sick since the 40's, he was out of practice and strength to deal with it. The whole team accused him of having the 'man flu', exaggerating his symptoms to keep you close. Fake coughing and sneezing for a few extra back rubs, because really, how on earth could a super soldier get sick?

But they all didn't see him how you did. It was really out of the ordinary for him to make himself seem so small. They weren't the ones wrapping his shivering body in heated blankets, massaging his sore lower back, or playing with his hair just to get him to release any sort of misery to lull him to sleep.

Not only was he sick, but you could tell he was dealing with stirred up past trauma. He spent practically his whole life up until the war being unwell, struggling to breath with a body so nimble and weak it felt like it could give out at any moment.

So that's how you ended up here, with two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle using your chest as a pillow while watching Snow White.

Much like you loved to show him stuff he missed while he was in the ice, he loved to show you stuff from his time before the ice. Snow White just happened to be the one Disney film you hadn't seen, and the film that he has fond memories of.

He told you when you first started dating that it came out when he was nineteen years old, and it was the first thing to bring a genuine smile to his face since his mom passed away when he was eighteen. Steve knew with everything in him that she would've loved it.

You were more than happy to lay awake at 2:30am to watch it and play with his hair even if it would make him just the tiniest bit less miserable.

You mindlessly ran your fingers through the short length while he held you tight and snug. He was under so many blankets that you weren't really sure where your bodies started and ended, but you did know that between him and the pile, you were way more than warm. His body was like a furnace, it usually was but this was a whole new extreme.

The medicine he was prescribed was strong enough to tranquilize a horse, but it was a tough match on the super soldier who was desperately trying to stay awake to finish the tale of the seven dwarves. It was equal parts endearing and frustrating that he was fighting off sleep with every ounce of strength he had.

Luckily, this was a battle that he had lost around three in the morning. You waited a few minutes to make sure he was out cold before slipping out from underneath his sweaty body in attempts to take care of yourself too.

You had already accepted the fact that you're sleep schedule was royally fucked up, so you didn't even bat an eye when it came to showering at such an ungodly hour.

The real trouble came when you tried to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea to will yourself to sleep after days in bed with Steve.

Maybe you weren't quite as stealth or quiet as you thought you were being, but there was definitely nothing quiet about the shriek you let out when a warm pair of unsuspecting forearms wrapped around your stomach from behind.

"God, you scared the shit out of me" You complained to your drugged up boyfriend.

He was in nothing but his boxers with a blanket draped around his shoulders. His arms held your back tightly against his front while his head dropped to your shoulder, he wasn't doing much to support his body weight.

"You left me" He complained with the saddest little pout. His sweet voice was raspy and muffled by a very obvious sore throat, it was enough to make you weak in the knees. "Woke up s'sad"

"I'm sorry, baby." You used your free hand to grab his forearm and draw hearts into his skin with your thumb.

"Thassokay, so happy now" He was obviously in a cold medicine induced loopy state. "Needed to see my beautiful girl"

"I think you need some good sleep" you suggested, trying your hardest to finish up so you could get him back in bed.

"No more sleep. I wanna do whatever you're doing" Steve sniffled into your neck before placing tiny kisses along your shoulder. "I haven't seen you in like two weeks"

"Honey, I've been with you for four whole days" You smiled at his drugged thoughts.

"I haven't seen you in six yearssss" he slurred.

"We only met three years ago" a giggle slipped past your lips.

"Nooooo. It's been at least 10. I've known you since two life times ago. Promise" He placed a kiss on your cheek. "Every second without you feels like a lifetime."

"I'll take your word for it" You brought your mug to your lips and took a long sip.

"Why have you been in bed with me for four years, pretty girl?"

"Days" you corrected. "Because you don't feel good, and I'm trying to make you feel better." You placed your mug down on the counter before turning around so you could face him.

"You've been taking care of me for four whole days?!" He questioned.

His eyelids were heavy and his expression was weary. A pretty shade of pink painted his cheeks and the top of his chapped nose while his hair stuck out in a million different directions. The soft stubble growing along his bold jaw and upper lip was coming in and filling out which was a rarity with Steve. He always kept his face cleanly shaved in attempts to keep up with public image and old fashioned habits.

You couldn't even help but to smile at how cute he was, even drugged out of his mind.

"Mhm" You grinned.

"Wow. Woooooooowwww! I'm ssssoo lucky" He threw his head back with a huge smile, the first time he smiled in days. "You must really love me. Like. A lot."

"I do" You confirmed while trying to fix his hair. "I love you a whole bunch"

"Tomorrow I'm going to go buy you flowers" he stated proudly.

"No you're not" You gently denied. "Tomorrow you have to rest so you feel better, remember?"

"But I have to" He wined with a poked out bottom lip in the most pathetic pout you've ever seen.

"Why do you have to?"

"Because my mother always told me that I have to buy pretty flowers for even prettier girls or else they'll run off. I don't want you to leave me." He explained.

"I'd never leave you" You reassured him, trying to take it as seriously as he was. Your thumbs made their way to the very corners of his pouted lips, and stretched them up into a grin. "I promise, I know you love me. I don't need flowers to know that"

"Really? You promise?"

"I promise" You confirmed with a small nod. "You look like you aren't feeling good, do you want to go back to bed now?"

"I feel fine" He denied. "Don'tcha worry your cute little face about me."

You lifted your hand and pressed your palm against his forehead. "But, honey, you're hot. You're practically burning up"

"Why thank you" He smirked.

"I meant your temperature" You chuckled until you realized that his face fell into another pathetic pout.

"I'm ugly?" He asked sadly.

"What? No- baby you're the handsomest man I've ever seen. All I'm trying to tell you is that you have a fever."

"Oh" He perked up. "Yeah, I really don't feel good" His head dropped back into the crook of your neck. "Should probably go to bed, but I don't wanna"

"Why not?"

"Cause I want cuddles from my pretty princess"

"I can give you cuddles in bed" You tried reasoning with him while drawing shapes into his bare back.

"You smell so good" You could feel his smile against your skin. "And you're so pretty. And warm. It's so cold"

"How about we get under the blankets to warm you up?" You desperately tried reasoning with him.

"I have a blanket right here, see? We're sharing it." Steve readjusted then blanket so it was tighter around the two of you. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I took a shower- washed my hair" You told him with a grin. His lack of self support caused his weight to push your back into the counter while his front leaned into yours.

"Without me? That's so mean"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up"

"But I'm here now" He proudly stated.

"I'm so happy you're here. But do you know where I want to go?" You asked, hoping you could trick him.

"Where do you wanna go? I'll go aaaaanywhere with you. I can even start up the quinjet if you want" He lifted his head to look at your face again.

"I want to go to bed"

"Awww s'my angel so sleepy?" He questioned sweetly with a higher pitched tone as if you were the tiniest puppy he had ever seen. "Let's get you cozy"

He unraveled himself from his spot then grabbed your hand and brought you back into the bedroom. To your surprise, he got into bed with no complaints.

Without saying a word, the two of you found your spots exactly where you were. Bodies becoming one, tangled into endless blankets, his head on your chest, and his weight pushing you deeper into the plush mattress. You pressed play again on Snow White and Steve pressed a little kiss just below your collar bone as a token of appreciation.

One hand on his smooth back, the other forever tangled into his silky blonde hair.

"Do you feel sick too?" Steve practically whispered after almost ten minutes of silence.

"No, honey, I'm feeling okay"

"Okay, I'm so happy you don't feel like this" He squeezed his eyes closed and nestled his cheek into the cotton of your shirt. "I don't want to feel like this anymore"

The statement brought a genuine pain to your chest. Steve was just too cute to handle, and if you could take every drop of illness out of him and bare it yourself, you would do it in a heartbeat.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie. This is the worst of it, okay? Bruce said you should start feeling better within the next day or two" You sealed the statement with a kiss to the top of his head. "If there's anything I can do to make you feel better just let me know and I'll do it, alright?"

"You're the best emergency contact in the whole world. You're granted this position for the rest of my life" He appointed you.

"I'm glad. It's a privilege to take care of you, I love you."

"I love you too"

Another few moments of silence and calm fell onto the room, and his evened out breathing and relaxed muscles lead you to believe that you had successfully lulled the big friendly giant to sleep. You couldn't even help your brain wandering as you had a chance to unapologetically stare at the creature that was your boyfriend.

He really was so beautiful. A sharp jaw, strong nose, and bold cheekbones all softened by a sweet, lopsided smile, baby blue eyes, and a loyal, timeless personality.

"I'm going to go buy you flowers tomorrow" His voice ripped you out of the trance he had put you in to begin with.

"You're a pain in the butt" you couldn't even help but to laugh, and a smirk formed on his face though his eyes remained closed.

"I have a good butt"

"Go to sleep, Rogers."

#rogersideup #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #fluff #oneshot #fluff oneshot #avengers

[wickedreading]

Cake

Words: 818 Warnings: FLUFF, talk of smut but no actual smut Characters: Jim x Reader x Steve

Another story for my best friend’s birthday! Happy birthday @wickedsingularity! I’m sorry this is late…We’re going to celebrate all week.

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#iguess theyre mymess #steve rogers drabble #jim kirk drabble #steve rogers fluff #jim kirk fluff #Steve Rogers #Jim Kirk #fluff drabble #Fluff #Drabble

[wickedreading]

Taken Care Of

Words: 517 Warnings: Fluff Characters: Jim x Reader x Steve

Deciding to publish this story I wrote a while ago for @wickedsingularity! It’s her birthday today and she deserves all of the love. Happy birthday, Martine! Hope you enjoy re-reading this.

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#iguess theyre mymess #Jim Kirk drabble #Steve Rogers drabble #Jim Kirk fluff #Steve Rogers fluff #Jim Kirk #Steve Rogers #Fluff drabble #Fluff #Drabble

[wickedreading]

Predictable

Words: 1135 Warnings: Fluff, pre-smut, nakedness, kissing Characters: Jim x Reader

I wrote this for @wickedsingularity for her birthday today! Happy birthday to one of my best friends in the whole world! She requested a tropical vacation story with Jim…I hope you like it, Martine! Have the best day!

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#iguess theyre mymess #jim kirk oneshot #Star trek #Jim Kirk #jim kirk smut #jim kirk fluff #smut oneshot #fluff oneshot #Smut #Fluff #Oneshot #The d tag

[wickedreading]

In Good Hands

Words: 1093 Warnings: Smut, Smut talk, Calf pain Characters: Leonard x Reader, Jim

Based off of the prompt: someone getting the world’s worst charley horse in the middle of sex and their calf cramping so bad that they’re practically crying and screaming, but not in the sexy way, and their partner massages their calf until the muscles finally relax, but they’ve still got a limp like three days later and everyone definitely gives them shit about walking funny. Given to me forever ago by @wickedsingularity.

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#iguess theyre mymess #leonard mccoy drabble #Star trek #Leonard McCoy smut #Smut drabble #Leonard McCoy #Smut #Drabble

[wickedreading]

Thunder

Words: 474 Warnings: Pre-smut (kissing, grinding), Fear of thunderstorms Characters: Steve x Reader, Thor

This idea was bouncing around in my brain for the last few days. Inspired by my best friend @wickedsingularity. I wrote this in an hour…at a very ungodly hour, so sorry for any spelling mistakes!

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#iguess theyre mymess #Steve Rogers drabble #Avengers #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers #Thor Odinson #Smut #Drabble #Smut drabble

[wickedreading]

the valley

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Bright gold, your boy. But oh, so dirty.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: This is… very filthy. Choking, a smidge of angst because I can’t have porn without feelings, apparently, mirror sex, dirty talk, Steve is filthy.

A/N: This is based on the valley - Miguel. I’ve been meaning to write a fic for it for the looooooooongest time, so what better occasion than the birthday of one of my favorite Geminis? I love you a lot and you are as bright as the sun, my friend @heli0s-writes​. I hope you guys enjoy this, even though it was supposed to be a whole other Thing. Let me know what you think! :) x

Masterlist link in bio, and also pinned!

~

Captain America is a good man.

He helps old ladies cross the street, visits orphanages at least once a month, and pesters everyone he shares a roof with to recycle and compost instead of just throwing everything in the trash can.

He volunteers for beach cleanups and has even made posters for peaceful protesters a time or two— all of these things he does in-between saving the world from going to shit and routinely getting into heated debates on social media with fucktard bigots with a wi-fi connection.

Captain America is a master tactician.

He’s memorized more floorplans than he’d care to admit, has made it out of hostile situations without much else than a shield the size of a dinner plate, and continues to lead the training for incoming recruits to the Avengers Initiative.

Captain America is a public figure— Steve Rogers is not.

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#tropicalcap #steve rogers one shot #avengers #steve rogers smut #smut one shot #steve rogers #smut #one shot

[wickedreading]

Melt

Words: 332 Warnings: Fluff, Ice cubes, Heat Characters: Steve x Reader

Keep reading

#iguess theyre mymess #Steve Rogers drabble #Avengers #Steve Rogers fluff #Fluff drabble #Steve Rogers #Fluff #Drabble