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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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hii!! i haven’t stopped by in a while😭😭 how are you doing? i’m so happy it’s almost autumn. it’s literally the marauders’ monthh

could i request a bookshop meet cute with remus? tysmm! <33

-🎀

hii my lovely 🎀! always so nice to hear from you and dw ofc, i've been very off and on anyway i'm good! just reveling in the best season of the year 🍂 how are you! loved this request; bookish remus is the best remus; hope you like it 🫶 wc: 1.3k, fluff

bookshop meet cute with remus

The breeze hits you just right as you turn the corner, and the feeling of the cool air on your skin is simply reinvigorating. “Fucking hell, I hate this place. Summer shouldn’t be over already!” you hear a fellow pedestrian lamenting to their walking partner.

You can’t relate. You smile to yourself, reveling in enjoying the change of season.

The warm air of the bookshop contrasts delightfully to the outside air as you walk in, unwrapping yourself from your big scarf. It smells like coffee and long nights filled with fantastic words in here, and you take a deep breath.

You start browsing, intrigued by the new titles, drawn to your usual favourite sections. It’s not long before you’re balancing quite a few books, content to live in the imaginary world where you actually get them all for a little while longer.

You find a similar one to one already in your stack but that you want more, so you try to maneuver the previous pick from the middle of the stack to put it back. And of course your tower topples.

You bend over to start picking up the books and bump into a display table, which really should’ve been arranged a bit more stably; I mean, come on, it’s not like you moved it that much. But, a stack of books on it comes tumbling down, and to your great embarrassment, they fall by someone’s legs. And, god, when you look up from your crouch at the person now looking down to see what just happened, you go from embarrassed to horrified. He’s beautiful. And staring down at you.

You should really say something at this point, but words — usually your friends, betraying you now in your moment of need, how dare they — don’t come out.

“You alright?” he asks gently, and of course, his voice is mellow and mellifluous.

“Umm,” is all you manage to muster.

He crouches down and starts stacking the display table books.

“I always wonder at how these wonky arrangements don’t get toppled more often,” he says lightly, probably trying to make you feel better. You give him a strained smile, and he returns an adorable grin that makes you really wish you knew what his full smile looked like.

“You’re going to have to tell me which of these were yours and which should go back on the table,” he chuckles. “Oh, right,” you finally speak, and you get a small smile in return. “Um, that one,” you point. “And these.” You start collecting them.

He just nods and keeps organizing the books. When he grabs a couple of the ones you were holding, he stops to read the blurbs.

With his eyes on the books rather than on you, you snatch the opportunity to really look at him. The first word that comes to mind is “warm.” The shades of brown of his messy hair, his focused eyes, his cosy jumper, it looks so warm. He looks so warm, and you feel it in your chest.

He looks up at you, and you start, worried he’s noticed you staring. If he has, he doesn’t let on, just grins at you. “You know I read somewhere once that seeing someone reading a book you like is like a book recommending a person instead of the other way around,” he tells you. He lifts the book in his hand, shows you the cover before handing it back to you. “This happens to be one of my favourite books,” he says more softly, almost conspiratorially.

“Oh,” you say, and you really wish you’d remember how to speak soon.

“Hm,” he affirms. “Please tell me it was part of your selection and not the table’s. Otherwise, I’m going to have to insist it change categories, so you can at least consider it.” “No, yeah, it was mine.” Okay, good. At least when he asks questions, you give actual answers.

“Brilliant,” he smiles. His smile is what’s brilliant. “So you’ve probably not read it yet?” “No,” you say softly. “I envy you your first time.”

“I’m excited,” you whisper.

The books sorted, you both finally stand up again. He’s finishing returning the display books when he notices your scarf still on the floor.

“Oh, here,” he says, grabbing it. But your hands are full, and you’re not sure how to grab it from him without dropping everything again and making an even bigger fool of yourself. You both do an awkward little dance of trying to figure out how to accomplish the seemingly very simple task of his handing you your scarf. Finally, with a chuckle, he straightens it out and brings it over your head, adjusting it over your shoulders. He doesn’t get too close, but he did have to move closer to put it on, and your heart is beating very fast at the proximity. You were right about the warmth, and you’re sure your cheeks are reflecting it, but there’s not much you could do about it. When he takes a step back, you wish he hadn’t.

A few seconds go by, and when you still don’t say anything, with a bit of an awkward air but a warm smile nonetheless, he says, “Alright, well, I hope you enjoy the book.”

“Thanks.”

He nods and slowly starts to turn to go. You’re so nervous, but your heart is screaming at you not to let it end there just because you can be a bit shy.

“And thanks for helping me,” you add a bit too quickly, simultaneously praising yourself for your bravery and scolding yourself for your awkwardness. He turns toward you again. “Yeah, no worries,” he says, and he lets out a seemingly relieved breath.

You chuckle nervously. He does too.

“I’m Remus, by the way,” he says, extending a hand.

You go to take it, but realize your hands are still busy holding the books.

“Oh, right. Obviously,” he says, realizing and looking a bit embarrassed himself as he brings his hand down.

He’s looking at you like he’s expecting something, and you don’t know what it is. Until you do, a few too many seconds later. “Oh!” Too loud, yikes. “I’m Y/N.” Too soft, over-correcting. You cringe at yourself. “Hi, Y/N.” Okay, maybe getting to hear your name in his voice has made all the awkwardness more than worth it. “Hi.”

“That’s a lot of books,” he says, nodding toward your arms.

“Yeah, I, uh, well, yes, I can’t get them all. But I hadn’t gotten to the choosing part yet.” “That part’s always painful,” he says. “Fun, but painful.” “Mhhm.”

He’s slightly swaying back and forth; his hand comes to rub the back of his neck. For the first time, you think that maybe he’s nervous too.

“Well, you’ve helped,” you say. He lifts his eyebrows in question. “Well, I can’t take your favourite book out of the running now, can I?” He chuckles.

“That would be quite tragic.”

“Quite.”

Another awkward silence. But you’d suffer through as many awkward silences as would let you keep talking to Remus. Remus, what a lovely name. So fitting.

“Um, have you read any of these other ones?” you ask, lifting your stack. “Maybe you can help me choose?” Wherever this new found bravery was coming from, you thanked any gods that were listening for it. When he smiles at you, it hits you like a wave that this man is probably going to pull a lot more bravery out of you yet. “Um, yeah, I’d love to take a look. I probably haven’t read them… but it sounds nice to talk about them anyway?” “Yeah, it does. Sound nice.”

“Great.” “Mhhm.” “Do you want to go sit down and look through them?” “Mhhm.”

“Great,” and that brilliant smile. That smile you hoped you’d get to see many, many more times.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #meet cute #fluff #remus lupin imagine

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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~Drumroll please!~ *drumroll cues* "THANK YOU!"

Now, brace yourself, Ria, for the most important question of the century!

HOW are you? Like, on a scale of “I just found $5 in my pocket” to “I accidentally turned into a human burrito and can’t get out of bed,” where are you?

momentous questions indeed 🤣

well, let’s see. the first scale is tricky because i’m actually not sure whether being unable to get out of bed is an amazing or awful thing, depends on the day! but i will go with: took a seat on a random bench to rest from too much walking then the breeze hit me just right and i look up and see funky patterns in the overhead foliage - so pretty good

cat scale: not exactly how i am, but number 8 gets me, i’m sure of it

how are YOUU 🫶

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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Enemies to lovers, period sex and dirty talk with james potter please 🥹

yay a kinktober request! this is why i love these things, i would've never put those together (this request gave me some saltburn vibes ngl but dw i didn't take it that direction)

mdni obviously, fem!reader wc: 3.8k - sorry i got a bit carried away; hope you enjoy!

Bloody Hell

Damn, it was like your period was on a schedule to come when as inconvenient as possible recently. You weren’t supposed to get it for a few days. You groan, clutching your achy back, considering whether this meant you had to change your Halloween costume for tonight. You were going to Sirius’s party as witch. It didn’t involve white trousers or anything ridiculously tight or short, so you felt fine wearing your fancy dress with your now necessary period pants.

As the day dragged on, pain killers helped the cramps, but definitely not the moodiness. It’d been a while since it made you this grumpy. But, Halloween only came once a year, and you’d been excited for the party, so you try to change your attitude as you’re getting ready later.

The witch’s costume is a bit typical, but you’d loved the colours and liked the classics. Besides, it fit unusually well. Tight and loose in all the right places, the perfect skirt length, and not to mention what it did for your… bosom. You looked hot. The first person you see upon arriving at Sirius’s does not help your mood: James bloody Potter. Looking gorgeous as ever… Wait, what? No. Not gorgeous. Annoying. Yes, that was it. Annoying and smug and irritating and fit. Ugh, okay, whatever. He looked really fit.

He hadn’t dressed too far from his normal self. Still wearing his typical leather jacket and jeans, but he’d cuffed them differently and had arranged his usually very messy luscious head of hair differently.

“A witch, Y/L/N? Really?” God, why did his stupid, gruff voice always have such an effect on you?

“Not very creative.” “At least I dressed up, Potter. What are you supposed to be? A twat?”

“Har-har. So witty. This, for your information, is a 1950’s look.” “Oh, is it? I thought I saw you wearing it last week.”

He just glares at you. “Alright, alright, you two. Should’ve dressed as vampires; hasn’t even been five minutes, and you’re already at each other’s throats,” Sirius comes interrupting, giving you a quick greeting hug and shoving James a bit along the way.

“Hi, Siri,” you hug back. “Blame your bestie. He’s the one who doesn’t know how to be nice.” “Oh, because you’re always a ray of sunshine?” James retorts. “Fucking hell,” Sirius sighs, already walking away, busy playing host. He’s already turned his back but you — both of you — clearly hear his exasperated, “Just fuck already, and stop torturing the rest of us.”

Your wide, mortified eyes snap to James, whose expression mirrors yours. Then he just scoffs and walks away. Typical.

The party goes on and is actually quite fun. The place is completely covered in Halloween decorations, and some of the costumes are amazing. It’s working wonders on your mood, especially when Remus arrives, but the grumpiness has a way of sneaking its way back into your system whenever Potter approaches.

You catch him looking over at you frequently, and it gets on your nerves. What does he want? To pick a fight? And why do you care? You try to ignore him as you keep chatting to Remus.

But it becomes impossible when he comes to stand right next to you. “Alright, mate?” He claps Remus on the shoulder, completely ignoring you.

“I’m standing right here, Potter,” you can’t help but say.

“Yes, I noticed.” “Did you? Because, you see, most people when they notice someone is having a conversation, don’t just interrupt it and ignore them.”

Remus is off with a sighed, “Not this again.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot how much you love my attention,” James says smugly, finally turning to you and smirking. You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m desperate for it,” you deadpan. “Though don’t think I haven’t notice you looking at me, Potter. If I did want your attention, I wouldn’t really be left wanting, would I?”

He seems a bit flustered by this, and you love it when you actually manage to get to him, to render him speechless even if for a mere moment. So, without a clear idea of where it will even lead, you pounce on the opportunity that seems to be presenting itself.

“Am I wrong? Why have you been so interested in what I’m doing tonight then?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, take a step closer. This really throws him.

“Pfft, have not.” He crosses his arms defensively. “Wow. So witty.” You cross your arms, mirroring him.

This draws his gaze down to your chest, and it lingers there. He seems to catch himself after a few seconds, but it was still a few seconds too many. Interesting.

God, was there any way Sirius was right? It was bound to happen some time.

And even if he was… if James was… what? into you? as into you as you were him? was that what you wanted? Actually admitting the feelings sounded much scarier than relentlessly arguing with him forever.

You’ve gotten lost in your thoughts (and, ugh, feelings), so you don’t notice how long has gone by. Nor do you notice that your demeanour is changing, shifting from teasing and challenging to reflective and slightly worried.

“What?” James asks, noticing.

“Nothing,” you panic.

“You’re definitely thinking something.” He waves an accusatory finger around your face. “Pfft, am not.” “Wow. So witty,” he repeats, and it’s filled with glee at retaking the upper hand.

This annoys you to no end, but you still can’t think of anything to say, so you just push past him with a “you’re so annoying.”

You try for a while to enjoy the party, to ignore James Potter — and the many thoughts and feelings about James Potter that won’t stop hounding you. You keep looking over at him, unable to help yourself.

The seemingly millionth time you do, his eyes catch yours. You want to look away, but something keeps you from doing so. Not wanting to give him the upper hand, again? Not wanting to look away from his beautiful orbs, possibly?

You just stare at each other from across the room for what feels like the heaviest few seconds of your life. Then his gaze drops, and rather than victory you feel… disappointment. You want him looking at you. Want to look at him back. Your disappointment doesn’t last for too long, though, as you realize he’s walking over to you.

He stops right in front of you, extremely close. He doesn’t say anything. You watch each other intently. “You’re staring at me,” he finally says. “You were staring at me first.”

Expecting him to deny it, you’re stunned when he responds, “So what if I was?” Then he checks you out shamelessly, his eyes dragging across your whole body, lingering on your chest, exploring your face, before landing back on your own.

That’s it. Stupid, shameless Potter. You do the only thing to do: you take a tiny step forward and smash your lips against his.

He’s kissing you back ardently before you even truly realize what’s happening. His hands grasp you desperately, pulling your body into his; his mouth contorts over yours, devouring you hungrily. He moans deeply enough for you to hear it over the loud sounds of the party. When he gropes your arse, you moan back. But you also realize what the fuck is happening. In the middle of a crowded room. So you pull back from him.

His mouth chases yours desperately, not wanting to break apart.

“Wait, James, wait.” He does. And he’s looking at you funny. “Are you alright?” you ask him. “I like how you say my name, sweetheart.” His sincerity surprises you, melts you. So even though you can’t help yourself as you respond, “Whatever, Potter,” it’s much softer than usual, warmth where there’s usually snark. He smirks at you.

“So can we keep kissing now?” “We’re in public, James.”

You don’t miss his lips quirk at the word. “So?” “So? I’m not a bloody exhibitionist! I have some standards…” “Toilet, then?” “Yeah, toilet,” you nod frantically.

His hands don’t release your hips the whole way you chase each other to the bathroom. He catches the back of your neck in a couple of quick kisses, and it’s sending tingles down your whole body.

You’re extremely grateful it’s empty when you reach it, rushing in in a frenzy. James slams the door shut and wastes no time in pushing you against it. He picks up where you had left off.

His mouth is hot and delicious against yours, his tongue dancing against yours in its explorations. He enjoys your mouth but soon traces down your jaw and starts sucking on your throat. You shiver at the sensations and pull him to you, your fingers winding into his gorgeous hair. He moans at this and the vibrations directly against your skin make you whimper.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, his lips still tracing your throat. “I love the sounds you make.”

You hum, and he grazes his teeth across your skin, morphing your voice into a soft yelp. “Yeah, like that,” he chuckles gruffly.

The next time his mouth makes it to the base of your neck, he continues downward. He starts kissing the tops of your tits desperately, bringing his hands up your body to grope them as he does.

“Fuck, I’ve been going mad all night looking at these. You should wear this every day.” His hands move to your hips pulling you from the door over to the sink. “C’mere,” he says as he lifts you to sit on the small counter.

You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You play with his hair as he kisses you fervently.

“I’ve always wanted to pull your hair,” you confess, surprising both of you with your honesty. “Oh yeah?” He looks so turned on, you throw any last inhibitions out the window. “Yeah. Fuck, you have nice hair.” You tug harshly on it, and his reacting groan is almost animalistic. His now black eyes stare directly into yours for a charged moment before he dives back into you.

He kisses wetly down to your throat and chest, and this time when he gets to your breasts, he unceremoniously pulls your dress and bra down.

“Fuck, you have nice tits,” he echoes and grins. He plays with them, kneading them and tugging on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before shoving his face between them. He licks across your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue. He switches eagerly between them, puckering them both up before taking one into his greedy mouth and sucking. You let out a loud, strangled whimper at the intense and exquisite sensation, and James hums around your tit. You cradle his head against you.

Rubbing his face against your breasts, he pleads, “That’s it, baby. Keep making those sounds. I love hearing how good you feel. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Jaames,” you whine as he sucks your nipple again.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Groping them hard one more time, he brings his hands down from your tits, massaging your sides before grabbing your thighs. He squeezes them harshly, jiggling them and running his nails across your skin.

He’s running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, toward your center, whispering “You wet for me, baby?” when your stomach drops and you remember, panicking. You’d been so caught up in James, you’d entirely forgotten.

“Fuck!” you yelp, pushing James away suddenly. He stumbles, then takes a steadying step back. He looks completely confused (and unreasonably sexy, all scruffed up from making out with you). “Fucking hell, Y/N. What? You alright?”

“I — fuck, yeah, I’m fine — I just — fuck.” You cover your face with your hands and squeeze your thighs shut. “Hey,” James says much more softly. “What’s up, love? Y’alright? You’re kind of freaking me out.” “Ugh, ‘m so sorry,” you slur into your hands. He grabs your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. “It’s alright, whatever it is. Just… can you tell me what’s wrong?” God, how you wish you could vanish in that moment. Or better, not have had your bloody — literally — body betray you like this this morning. Why this fucking time of all times to come early?

You’re mortified, embarrassed as hell, wishing there was some way out of this without having to explain the truth and put James Potter off, probably for good. After all the time and tension it’d taken to get you here at all.

“Y/n?”

You take a steadying breath but still can’t get the words out. So you cover your face again, only able to utter them while feeling hidden from him. “‘M on my period,” you confess. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you brave moving your hands down and looking up at him. You’re not sure how to read his expression. Then he grins lightly and brings his hands to your cheeks. He tucks your now messy hair behind your ears on both sides before holding your face.

He’s surprised you several times tonight, but this next one takes the cake. “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” he says simply with a shrug and a caress of your cheeks. “What?” You can’t believe it. Every other guy it’d come up with before had treated it like the most disgusting thing. “I don’t mind,” he repeats, chuckling, moving his face closer to yours to look up deeply into your eyes.

“Are you serious?” “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, obviously. Like if you’re not feeling well or whatever, but if it’s just about the blood… I can handle a little blood.” “It’s more than a little,” you whisper embarrassedly.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” he laughs. How can he seem so lighthearted? Could he really not mind?

He brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling them slowly apart, giving you time to resist the motion, stepping between them when you don’t. He messages them on either side of his hips. “So?” he asks seductively, clearly eager to continue. “You really don’t mind?" “Really. Fuck, Y/N, I’ve been wanting this so fucking long, I’d be a madman if I waited longer just because you’re on your period.”

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you open your legs a bit wider at his words. The dark smirk that usurps James’s expression as you do makes your cunt pulse. God, you want him. Blood be damned.

Slowly, so slowly it’s driving you insane, he ghosts his hands over your skin the rest of the way up your legs. When they finally reach your underwear, they snake under the waistband and tentatively pull. You lift your hips, and he yanks them the rest of the way off.

Instinctively, you try to shut your legs. James standing where he is only lets you do it part of the way. Pushing the insides of your knees open again, he says, “No need to hide, gorgeous.” “I — “ But words fail you. So, you simply let him open your legs.

Sensing your tension, James kisses you again. He starts softly, but you’re both so hungry for each other, so worked up already despite the interruption, that it’s only a few seconds before you’re ravaging each other again, moaning and grasping and pulling each other close. With his mouth still on yours, one hand holding your face, the other comes between your legs, grazing where your thigh meets your cunt.

You shiver, a combination of nerves and pleasure. He breaks your kiss, but rests his forehead on yours, looking straight into your eyes. He lifts his eyebrows in question, and you nod hesitantly.

He finally brings his fingers to your center, ghosting over it. When you feel the string of your tampon under his fingers, you ashamedly let out an “Oh, god” then “sorry.”

James tssks at you and whispers, “’S alright, sweetheart. It’s fine. Maybe let’s get rid of this, though, cos it’s where I want to be, yeah?” Fuck, how could he keep turning you on even more? You nod and bring your hand between your legs. You pull out the tampon and toss it over into the rubbish bin.

Without further ado, James touches you properly. His fingers slide up and down your wet folds. Your slick and blood mix under his ministrations, but it feels so fucking unreal that you finally start not to care.

You’d always been sensitive during your period. But no one else had ever touched you during it. Nor had it been after ages of sexual tension and lustful fantasies. Every graze of his hand is divine, and when his motions become proper strokes, the full length of his fingers rubbing against you, you squeal as your head falls onto his shoulder. One hand clutches the sink, the other James. “Feel good?” he teases. “Yes,” you sigh desperately.

“How about this then?” he asks as he plunges two fingers into you. You scream.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I mean, keep screaming, but maybe not so loud. Don’t want anyone to come knocking when I’m finally this close to fucking you.”

“Fuck.” “Hmm, that’s it. Just relax, love.” His hand thrusts as his fingers curl inside you, and you clench in utter pleasure. “Fuuuck, you’re squeezing me so bloody tight, love. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” You let out some kind of strained affirmative groan and clench again. “Yeah? Want to feel me fill you up?” “Yes, fuck, yes, please.”

“Who knew you could be this nice, Y/L/N? That all it’d take was my fingers inside you.” “Shut up, Potter.” But there’s no bite to it. “We both know you don’t want me to shut up. I can feel how much you’re enjoying this.” You just bite your lip and whimper when he pushes his thumb against your clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can bring the snark back after I make you cum.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought, and you nod, giving into him. “I know I could do it like this, but I can’t wait any longer to feel you, baby.”

He pulls his hand out of you, and you whine. When you see how entirely covered in blood it is, any further sounds die in your throat at your mortification.

“I —“ you start, but James just shakes his head and kisses you to shut you up. Not breaking apart from you, he reaches blindly for the hand towel and cleans his hands when he finally finds it. There’s still dark red traces of you on the fingers that then hurry to his trousers, opening them in a rush. He pushes them down and pulls his cock free. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight. “James,” you whine. “Yeah, sweetheart?” “Please fuck me.” With a deep groan, one of his hands roughly pulls your head to keep making out with you and the other grabs his cock and lines it up with your center. He pushes in fast. His mouth devours the sounds yours makes in response.

He starts pounding in and out of you, not bothering to start slow. You’re sure you’d be wet enough regardless, but as things stand, he’s gliding in and out of you. A loud squelching sounds as he thrusts, but before you have time to be embarrassed, James moans, “Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing,” and pounds harder.

He has to bring one hand to the sink just behind you to stabilize himself from how roughly he’s going; his other hand takes a vice-like grip of your hip. His head ends up in the crook of your neck, and he kisses and sucks. Your hand comes to his hair, your other arm clinging around his shoulders clutching him as your whole body reverberates with his movements.

He slows down only enough to lean his head slightly down to where your tits are bouncing. He sucks your nipple and keeps it in his mouth as he keeps fucking into you. At the harsh and unexpected suck, you scream again. He makes no effort to quiet you.

With his face at your chest, he’s opened a bit of space between your bodies, and he brings a hand to where he keeps disappearing in and out of you. He starts rubbing messily on your clit.

With that sensation on top of all the others that have your body on fire, you cum violently around him with strangled yell.

He thrusts through it, but a few clenches of your pussy later, he can’t help but cum too. Your clutching cunt milks him dry.

He’s panting loudly when he finally stops moving, his hips still, his face resting on your chest. An aftershock ripples through him, and his body gives a quick shake. Then he gives your breast a quick peck before moving to kiss your mouth. It doesn’t last; he’s so out of breath, but he rests his forehead on yours as he recovers. His arms rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. You feel warm and safe, and you stroke up and down his strong arms. He smiles and pecks your lips.

“Not bad, Potter,” you finally break the silence. He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You cannot possibly act nonchalant after the sounds you just made, Y/L/N. I’m surprised no one burst in here thinking someone was getting murdered.”

You laugh together. It’s concerningly nice.

When you settle down, James looks between you. He pulls out gently. And it’s a fucking mess.

“I don’t think the words ‘bloody hell’ have ever been so appropriate,” he jokes, staring at it. “Oh god,” you say, covering your face in your hands again. “C’mon, Y/L/N. I thought we were past this bit.” It’s harsh but encouraging as he pulls your hands from your face and quickly kisses your forehead. “C’mon,” he offers as he helps lift you off the counter in a way that lets you hop over the… puddle.

You both stand there staring at the crimson crime scene of a sink.

Looking at it but leaning toward you, James asks, “D’you think we could get away with saying it’s Halloween decorations?”

You burst out laughing again.

“The blood, maybe, but… there’s some of you there too…”

“Well, at least our first time is certainly memorable. Happy Halloween, Y/L/N.”

Your heart does something funny at “first time.” So, you ignore it for now and simply say, “Help me clean this up before Sirius actually does murder us in here.”

#kinktober 2024 #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter smut #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #marauder x reader #marauders smut #marauders fanfic #enemies to lovers

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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wow 🫶🫶🫶 your taking the time to write this just absolutely entirely made my day, thank youuuu!!! thank you for reading and being so lovely and giving me this stunning gift of a response! i write in the hopes of people enjoying like this, so i’m so glad you did!

hi gorgeous!! The way you write james has me thinking non stop about him for days (i need him fr) so on that note, can i please get a request where reader gets jealous for some reason and he doesn’t notice at first cause he only has eyes for her but she kind of gets clingier and a little grumpy so he talks to her and just lots of fluff and cuddles? Thank you <3

thank youu! comments like that make me want to be writing all the time really hope you like it!! sorry i got a little carried away length-wise

a confession among friends: getting called my boyfriend's sister actually happened to me once and i was soo pissed lmao

pairing: James Potter x reader word count: 4.1k (not completely proofread)

Boy-friend

You weren’t much in the mood for a party. No matter how many times Sirius clarified that it was only a “get together,” it was a party. Still, James had wanted to come, and there’d been plenty of times he’d come out because you were the one who felt like it, so you were happy to try to make the most of it.

James comes up behind you now, surprising you and tickling you with no warning. You break out in full laughter but contort to smack him away.

“Stop! stop!” you half laugh, half yell.

“Alright, shortcake, but if I catch you looking grumpy again, you’re gonna get it,” he replies cheekily, giving you a playfully accusatory squint. “Shortcake” wasn’t your favourite of his nicknames, but it had stuck after one night the boys had had way too much to drink and way too much fun making fun of you for being the shortest of the group, not bothering with your contention that it wasn’t fair since you were the only girl.

“I was not looking grumpy.”

“Given I’m the one who could see what you looked like, not you, I think my word counts for more here.”

“What are you two on about?” Sirius interrupts, wrapping an arm around James’s shoulders in their typically brotherly way.

“Was or was she not looking grumpy just now?” James asks.

“Was,” Sirius nods affirmatively.

“Whatever, you losers,” you roll your eyes at them. “Anyway, if I’m looking bored” — you glare at them before either corrects your word choice — “I feel justified in blaming the host of the party,” you smirk at Sirius.

“It’s not a party; it’s a get t—“

“A get together,” you both finish for him.

“Yes, yes, we know, mate,” James laughs. “Lots of people in your flat for a ‘get together,’ don’t you think?”

“Well, I’ve just made lots of cool friends recently. Thought it’d be nice for them to meet each other,” he shrugs.

“Always so generous,” you tease.

“‘Course,” he shrugs. “How else are you two annoyingly romantic recluses going to meet anyone new? You never leave your flat.”

“We do so,” you try, but it sounds damningly defensive. You cringe before Sirius can pounce and add, “Well, we’re here now aren’t we?”

“Fair. Glad you’ve graced me with your presence, L/N,” Sirius smiles.

Just then a small toy football whizzes past Sirius’s head.

“Oi!” he yells, turning towards the source of the projectile. “No indoor football!” Then he grins his characteristically wolfish smile. “Not before I get to pick teams! I am host after all.” He grabs you by the wrist, dragging you with him. When you begin to object, he just shushes you with, “Weren’t you just complaining about being bored?”

James comes too, no dragging necessary. You’re surprised to find Remus, usually so responsible, in the midst of the ball game crowd.

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles, shrugging and telling you, “It’s Sirius’s flat. Do you think we’d even be able to tell if something got damaged?” He looks around at the messy space.

You all start what was initially some kind of football game, but it just devolves into a drunken monkey in the middle situation.

You get stuck in the middle, for frustratingly longer than most. It’s not fair Remus is so tall, and James so athletic. When you’ve finally had enough, you jump at James when he catches the ball, wrapping your arms around him, not even going for the ball.

“Hey!” he yells as he’s laughing. “Ref! Foul!” He shakes you loose, not without a fight from you. “That’s not the game,” he chides you. He lifts the ball high, and you make the mistake of reaching for it, obviously having no chance. “Gotta try better than that.” He hasn’t stopped laughing as you jump up and down like an idiot.

“I give up,” you announce, winded but smiling slightly.

“Such a sore loser,” he teases, ruffling your hair a bit and giving you a gentle playful push.

“Whatever,” you push him back. “I’m thirsty. You want anything?”

“I’m good. Catch up in a sec.”

“‘Kay.”

He throws the ball over your head at a ready Sirius as you weave your way to the kitchen.

You lean on the counter, drinking some water. You look back over toward your silly boyfriend and best friends, who are still playing the game, but your view is mostly blocked by a couple of girls who are also watching the shenanigans. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but they’re standing very close to you.

“He’s so cute,” says one of them, a strikingly attractive girl in heels that make her a whole head taller than the other girl.

“Why am I not surprised? You have such a specific type,” laughs her friend.

The gorgeous girl just shrugs, owning it with no shame.

Having witnessed your fair share of such reactions, you automatically assume they’re talking about Sirius. You just smile and roll your eyes, used to it.

Soon the boys are over the antics too even though the game continues without them, and they come get some water as well. James stands next to you as he downs his glass. He bumps his shoulder against yours, a common gesture between you.

The girls turn toward your group now, and the especially pretty one says, “Thanks again for inviting us, Sirius. If I’d realized it was going to get so… physical” — she emphasizes the word seductively, as she nods back to where they had just been throwing the ball — “I wouldn’t’ve worn such high heels.” She kicks her foot back a bit, as if to show the heels she’s blaming, but you don’t miss her turn into it, showing off her (amazing) body.

Sirius just grins knowingly, unfazed.

“You could always take them off,” he suggests nonchalantly.

She giggles and retorts, “But they look so good on me.”

You can’t help but think it’s incredible people actually just talk to each other this way. You feel like you’re watching a movie, sure you’d never feel bold enough to say something like that unless the other person knew it was your line. You’d never been particularly good at flirting, and getting together with James since back at school, you hadn’t had the need in a long time. Even with James, though, you’d never talked like this, not back then, not now. You were glad you didn’t feel the need; everything just came naturally when it came to James. He used to make you nervous from how much you liked him, sure, but for years, you’d become completely comfortable with him. The closest you came to flirting was your quite frequent teasing, but you teased Sirius and Remus as well, and they you.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends?” The girl’s question breaks you from your thoughts, drawing your gaze to her. Her gaze, you come to find, is not on Sirius, but on James. Directly, aggressively on James.

Oh god. Maybe it wasn’t Sirius after all.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Sirius says, typically theatrical. “Lads, this is Jules and…” Jules introduces her friend, but you miss her name as a group of people near you laugh loudly. “And these are my best mates, Remus, James, and Y/N,” he gestures at each of you in turn. “We go back to our school days,” he adds kind of adorably.

“Oh, how cute!” says Jules.

Ok, not that adorably. You cringe internally at her then feel a bit guilty for disliking this girl for very little reason. Well, maybe there was a reason… but it wasn’t one you felt often.

She hasn’t stopped staring at James the whole time, and you steal a glance at him now. He’s pouring himself more water, quite unaffected. He looks at her only when she addresses him directly.

“You were so good at… whatever you all were doing over there,” she giggles. “James. It was James, right?”

Oh please. She obviously remembered.

“Yeah,” James smiles, wiping some water that had condensed around his glass. “Thanks,” he chuckles and shrugs. “Not much competition, though,” he adds teasingly, shoving Sirius on one side of him and splashing your face with the water droplets lingering on his fingers on the other.

“Oh don’t be mean,” she says exaggeratedly, playfully hitting his shoulder.

You are not a fan of how angry such minimal contact makes you.

“I thought you put up a really good fight against someone so tall and clearly athletic,” she says to you, looking back toward James at the end of her sentence.

James just laughs lightly and, turning to you, bumping your shoulder, asks, “What do you think, shortcake? You think you put up a good fight?” His tone is all teasing.

“You two are too cute,” says Jules.

Weird angle for her obvious flirting, you think.

“Is this your sister?” she asks, pointing between the two of you.

Oh god. You are simultaneously mortified and infuriated.

Sirius breaks out laughing, saying, “I told you I bet other people play siblings or dating with you two when we go out.”

James starts saying something, but just then, the ball from the continued game hits the counter right next to you, knocking over a bunch of water glasses and startling you all.

“Alright,” Sirius chuckles. “Maybe enough with this shit.” He grabs the ball and goes to toss it in a closet. James goest to dry his arm where it got splashed. Remus starts cleaning up the mess. A loudly apologetic bloke you don’t know comes over to help.

The slight chaos has moved the conversation away from what was just happening, and you have no idea how to clarify things without being incredibly awkward.

His sister? What the fuck? Did this girl really not mind being a total bitch to get what she wanted or, worse, did she actually think you were siblings? Did you look like siblings to the rest of the world? Should it bother you so much if you did?

You’re reeling, and start thinking back to what could’ve given her that impression. Your stomach sinks at the realization of so much playful bumping, hair ruffling, and the like. You can’t remember kissing James once tonight. Maybe this isn’t out of the ordinary, with your slight aversion to PDA, but not once? You realize also how many of your gestures toward James you’d also done toward Sirius. How much they behaved similarly not just with you but with each other. Oh god. Were you that sisterly?

You panic, reach for a kitchen towel, and start drying your damp boyfriend, getting way too close and speaking way too loudly when you say, “Let me help you with that, baby.”

James is a little taken aback. You never call him baby. In fact, though his calling you pet names is common, the reverse is rare. You usually stick with “Jamie” … or some dumb teasing insult like “loser.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” he chuckles confusedly. “Wasn’t that much.” You nod and put the towel down. “You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” you say too quickly.

You glance toward Jules to gauge her reaction, but she’s busy also drying off, her friend having gotten the worst of it, and you’re not sure whether she heard you.

“Wanna go sit down? I’m tired,” you tell James, dragging him by the hand, which you don’t let go of even after he’s clearly following you, back to the living room.

You pull him down to the couch, where you proceed to sit way too close to him despite there being more room on your other side and wind your arm under his as you continue to hold his hand. You kiss his cheek as he settles in.

He’s smiling but asks, “What’s with you, love?”

“Nothing,” you say, but your voice sounds off even to you. You kiss him again, and even more confusion seeps into his smile.

You’re trying to think of something “couple-y” to do but come up with absolutely nothing, an awkward air arising between the two of you as you squirm. You literally cannot remember the last time you felt awkward with him, and now you add feeling guilty into the mix. At your insecurities, at your jealousy, at his slight discomfort, you’re not even sure at what, but it’s awful.

“You sure you’re alright, sweetheart? You’re all tense, and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost circulation in my hand at this point,” he chuckles. You notice your grip is vice-like.

His tone is light, but yours is not as you snap, “I’m just holding your hand. I’m your girlfriend; that shouldn’t be weird.”

His smile fades quickly as he answers, “Uh… I didn’t say it was weird, Y/N. Just too tight?” It sounds like a question, but that’s probably just because he seems very confused overall.

“Right. Sorry.” Your voice is much softer now as you let go of his hand.

“It’s fine. Obviously. I just… Um…” He’s searching for what to say, wanting to comfort you but unsure what you even needed comforting from. He opts for just reaching for your hand again, straining a smile though his eyebrows remain in a confused furrow.

“You wanna go disorganize Sirius’s beloved record collection?” he asks mischievously.

“No, not really,” you say softly, not feeling like a prank right now even though you usually did.

“Um, ok.” James looks a bit awkward. “You hungry?”

“No.”

“Right.” A silence. “Let’s just sit here then,” he says, probably a bit more sarcastically than intended.

“Is that so bad? Do we always have to be doing something for me to be fun?” you shoot, standing up. “Why don’t you go find Sirius or Remus, James. I’m sure it won’t even make a difference.” You turn away angrily, but he follows you up quickly and stops you.

“Whoah, what’s up, shortcake?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Don’t call me that. It sounds like you’re teasing your little sister.”

You see something in his eyes at the word “sister,” but you turn and keep trying to walk away before you have time to really analyse it.

James is following you but he has to weave between a group of people you managed to avoid, so you get to the bathroom before he catches up. He knocks a second later.

“Y/N? Can we talk please?” You don’t say anything. “Come on, Y/N. Let me in. Or you come out.” You lean against the door but still don’t say anything.

“I just want to know you’re okay,” he says more softly this time.

“I’m fine,” you say, softly too. “I just need a second, okay? I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

“Alright, love, but just come back quick, alright?”

You’re not even really sure what you’re doing in here. You just need to collect yourself, you guess. You fiddle with some stuff on the sink then find yourself looking in the mirror.

An ugly thought arises, and you hate it, trying to push it away. It comes back anyway.

She’s much prettier than me…

That distorted inner voice doesn’t stop there.

And better at being a girl.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you whisper out loud to yourself. “Completely ridiculous.”

You wash your hands even though you haven’t used the toilet, shaking your head, your gaze fixed on your hands. Then you go back out into the party.

James is across the room, talking to Remus, but staring at the door you just came out of. As soon as he sees you, he pats Remus on the shoulder, saying something quickly, and starts moving toward you.

He’s stopped in the middle of the room by a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. It’s attached to Jules, of course, and your glare hardens. You’re too far away to hear what she says to him, her hand lingering on him.

James shakes his head a bit at whatever she’s saying, his eyes coming back toward you quickly. He gives her a glance again and a nod then his hand comes to her shoulder. You’re eyes are glued to where they connect, and so your gaze follows the motion of James’s hand gently pushing her body aside. A moment later, it detaches as he continues walking toward you. You haven’t moved when he reaches you.

“Hey,” he says simply.

“Hi,” you return. You look away from his face, shy and confused about what to tell him.

His hand gently guides your chin back up, and you lose yourself in his beautiful eyes for a second. He gives you his warmest smile, and you give him a pitiful but sincere one back.

“You wanna talk about what the hell just happened?” he laughs lightly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you try. You’re not sure you want it to be, but you’re too embarrassed to explain and would take any option that meant you didn’t have to.

“Actually, it wasn’t,” he chuckles. “When you got weird, I thought it was just because you didn’t want to come tonight,” he starts. “But I still didn’t understand the specific… I don’t know, kind? of weird you got.” His lips quirk into a teasing-adjacent smile here, but your face immediately contorts in embarrassment. You cover it with your hand, but James quickly removes yours with his. “Hey, hey, no, sorry. I’m sorry. It’s alright, lovely.” He caresses your hand he’s still holding. “I’m not teasing, okay?” He smiles at you, and you just keep watching him, but your face relaxes a bit. “Then,” he exhales dramatically, “Remus asked me how you reacted to that girl flirting with me right in front of you then calling you my sister.” He grimaces.

Thank God for Remus, you think, the only emotionally aware man you’ve ever met.

“I hadn’t noticed the first part, sweetheart,” James adds. “The flirting part, I mean. I’m sorry, pretty girl. I mean, she didn’t know I had a girlfriend — clearly — but I would’ve just told her I did if that ball hadn’t hit us.”

“She was really into you,” you say before thinking, unsure where that’s supposed to take the conversation.

“Was she? Huh.” He sounds slightly amused, but you know he’s acting to amuse you.

“You really couldn’t tell?” you ask him. There’s disbelief in your voice, but you’re smiling a bit at him. He takes a step closer to you.

“I mean, I guess in retrospect, it makes sense,” he says honestly. “But I guess I’m out of practice,” he laughs. “And more importantly, I don’t care who’s really into me because I’m really into you, you silly girl.”

You exhale, your heart warming and most of your heavy emotions leaving you. You squeeze his hand, and shaking your head at yourself, bring it to rest on his chest. James chuckles into your hairline, kissing the top of your head and holding it close, his fingers interweaving into your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your mouth squished against him.

You can feel him shake his head since he’s resting it on yours.

“No need,” he smiles. “I’m sorry. Was quite daft.” You laugh into his chest. You wipe away a tiny tear you’d been about to shed then rest your hand on his chest. The image reminds you, and you jolt upright, looking into his face again. He looks startled but amused.

“What?”

“What was she saying to you? Just now?” You nod toward where they’d been talking. He laughs a full laugh.

“She was telling me we should ditch this get together and go to her place.” He wiggles his eyebrows goofily.

“Jamieee,” you scold, smacking his chest. He grabs hold of your hand and holds it to his heart, thumb caressing the back of it. His other hand still at the nape of your neck.

“She was telling me,” he leans in conspiratorially, “‘sorry for not realizing your girlfriend was your girlfriend,’” he chuckles again. “I guess your little show worked afterward.”

“And what’d you say?”

“Does it matter?” It’s not harsh; he’s all warmth now. Knowing him, you realize he probably just doesn’t see the point of lingering.

“I just want to know,” you say.

“I said I didn’t care and it was fine or something.” He shrugs. “Can’t remember my exact words. Had more important things — a more important person — on my mind, to be honest.” He smiles at you. You smile back.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too,” he replies with a laugh as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So much,” he adds, a bit more seriously, and kisses your forehead.

You just stand there, close to each other, your head back on his chest, his arms around you, for a few moments.

Then, leaning back to look at his face, you ask seriously, “Do you really?”

He looks confused by your question, its sincerity. “Of course I do. I adore you. You don’t know that?” His question has more than a tinge of hurt under it.

“No,” you chuckle. But before he can get the wrong idea, you quickly continue, “Of course I know that.” You smile earnestly, and he seems comforted. “I mean, do you really not care? That she couldn’t tell I was your girlfriend?” Your voice grows softer and softer as you ask, and it’s a mere whisper by the end.

“No, sweetheart,” he smiles. “I don’t. I know. And you know. Who cares what other people think?”

“I did,” you scold yourself. “I’m sorry I got so weird. I just… I got really insecure about being just like Sirius or Remus to you. I know I’m just one of you in some ways —“

He cuts you off, “Yeah, baby, you’re one of us in some ways, but not in every way. The four of us, we have something special,” he nods. “But the two of us, we have something special too.” He tightens your embrace. “Seriously special. Yeah, we’re… what? friendly? sometimes. But, darling, you are not like Sirius or Remus to me.” He brings his hand to your face, caressing your cheek. “For starters, I don’t want to kiss Sirius or Remus, and they’re pretty good looking blokes,” he jokes. “And I don’t want to tell them about every single thing that makes me smile — just a lot of them — and about everything important in my life. I don’t need to make sure they’re happy and safe absolutely all of the time. I don’t feel warm and happy to be alive every time I look at them, and I don’t love cuddling with them at night, waking up to them in the morning. Not to even mention the other things that happen in that bed…” Now you laugh too.

“Yeah,” you nod, getting convinced.

“Yeah?” he pushes.

“Yeah,” you say certainly.

“Good.”

You hum a warm assent.

“Now what do you say we ditch this get together and go back to our place?”

You roll your eyes at him but laugh as you nod.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

He’s nodding as he shifts his arm across your shoulders, kissing the top of your head and continuing to hold you close as you walk toward Sirius and Remus to say goodbye.

“Leaving already?” Sirius complains, teasing you about being antisocial and lame.

“Sorry, mate, but I really want to cuddle up with my girlfriend right now, and this doesn’t seem like the best place for that.”

“Ugh, so cheesy, Prongs. Just leave already,” he says, feigning disgust and pushing James away.

“Good night, gorgeous,” Sirius tells you, kissing your cheek carelessly like he’s done a million times. Similar words, similar gestures, yes, you think, but they don’t feel the same at all. You smile.

“Good night, Siri,” you say. You and James hug Remus too.

James puts his arm back around you as you go to leave. You smile up at him, then, mischief in your eyes, you push him away and walk faster.

“You’re all sweaty, Potter. Gross.” He laughs and play chases you all the way out the door.

Once you’re on the other side of it, enveloped by the welcoming quiet privacy of the night, he catches up to you and pulls you to him. You resist for only a moment, your laughter intermingling with his, then you melt into his embrace.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” James huffs, kissing you ardently. “Can’t wait to get home with you,” he whispers before kissing you again.

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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if vampires can't come inside without permission does that mean that you can just keep riding that thang and they can't um . yknow

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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hii just fyi i have a couple older requests in my inbox i was super happy to receive! have just been busy, not ignoring them sorry

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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hiya lovely guys gals and gender fluid pals, here’s kinktober 2024🫀

happy kinktober witches! here are my kinktober 2024 prompts 👻

send any prompt / combo of prompts (if it’s too many, it might be tricky, but i’ll do my best or focus on some) + character from the lists below:

who?

1.friends to lovers

2.enemies to lovers

3.established relationship

4.threesome

5.dom/sub

when?

6.first time

7.period sex

8.pregnant sex

9.morning sex

10.high sex

where?

11.one bed trope

12.car

13.shower / bath

14.mirror

15.outside

how?

16.oral

17.fingering

18.doggy

19.sex toys

20 thigh riding / dry humping

tease me…

21.strip tease / lap dance

22.lingerie

23.nipple play / titfucking

24.edging

26.cockwarming

27.roleplay / uniform / costume

talk to me…

28.dirty talk

29.phone sex / sexting

30.praise kink

31.breeding kink

with…

*favourites bolded

Remus Lupin Sirius Black James Potter

Fred Weasley Theseus Scamander

Luke Alvez Spencer Reid

Poe Dameron Cal Kestis

Miguel O'Hara TASM! Peter Parker

Dean Winchester Sam Winchester

Guildford Dudley Marcus Whitmore

do not request or interact if you’re a minor!!

see my general request guidelines here

🩷 let’s have fun! thanks for requesting and reading! 🧡

#kinktober 2024 #requests open

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 7 months ago

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Mentally I’m here

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 8 months ago

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does anyone else ever get the impulse to search their house for mold or toxins after too many episodes of house?

#house md #i wouldnt even know what to look for #everything is a symptom

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 8 months ago

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just discovered you! i’m a huge fan of your writing! it’s been a long time since i read things written this well thank you!!

ahh that's so kind of you to say! makes my day, thank youuu 🫶

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 8 months ago

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ooh the september prompts are fun! I’d love to see remus or sirius and “forgetting a coat”! 💞

yayy thanks for requesting! just did both 🫶 hope you like them!

wc: 500ish each

Sirius x reader

You keep trying to convince yourself you’re not cold.

Because you’re not, you lie to yourself again.

But as you rub your arms, you feel the goosebumps on your cold skin indicating otherwise. Of all the days to forget your bloody coat. The weather had been so temperamental; any other day this week it would’ve been fine, would’ve had you annoyingly carrying it around without wearing it. But here you are today, trying to listen to the story James is telling but continuously getting distracted by how cold you are.

“Bloody hell, Y/L/N,” Sirius complains next to you. You’ve both fallen a little behind the group. “Here,” he says, taking off his leather jacket.

“Woah, no, I’m fine,” you start, declining.

“You’re going to rub your arms raw. It’s annoying,” he adds, insisting. He puts the jacket against your chest and lets it go, already walking away to not give you an option.

Okay, so maybe “annoying” wasn’t the right word. Other adjectives certainly would’ve been more apt: “concerning,” for example, or “kind of adorable” even. But he didn’t need to tell you that.

Sirius turns back to you and stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” The surprised lilt in your voice is more than kind of adorable.

“Nothing,” he lies. He tries to look away, to act normal, but he loves the sight of you in his jacket.

He was honestly just trying to help by giving it to you. He hadn’t realized his own reaction would reach the pit of his stomach, would warm him up so much he certainly didn’t need the jacket. Not that he would take it back if he did. Not when you looked like that.

You looked so beautiful. No surprise there. But it also felt so intimate. Not possessive really, just close? You weren’t his, but you were his to take care of, to share things with.

For a quick moment, he also had to admit, he wondered what you’d look like wearing only his jacket. But he pushed that down as quickly as it had come up in his besotted mind.

“Thanks, Sirius,” you whisper as you come to stand next to him. You grin softly at him. “No worries,” he responds lamely.

You both walk on. No matter how much he tries, he can’t keep his eyes from wandering over to you for more than what feels like a few seconds at a time. He hopes you don’t notice.

Then — god, was he imagining it? — he sees you wrap the jacket tightly around yourself and breathe it in. A strong urge to go over and wrap his arms around you and breathe you in comes over him, but he controls himself.

Then your eyes snap over to him, and you seem almost shy. Maybe he’s not the only one hoping the other doesn’t notice their behaviour.

He just smiles at you, not letting on that yes, he just saw you smelling his jacket — hopefully also not letting on how much he liked seeing you smelling his jacket.

But when you smile back, when his heart is done clenching, it tells him that maybe it’s time he told you the whole truth. If it leads to his getting to see you in his clothes more often, well, he certainly wouldn’t complain.

Remus x reader

You loved the park. You loved sitting in the park. You especially loved sitting in the park with Remus. But as the minutes passed, even turning the pages of your book was becoming a struggle from how cold your hands were.

You look over at Remus, and he looks so relaxed and cosy that you don’t want to bring it up. God, he looks warm in that big, soft jumper he always wears.

He catches you looking at him and grins at you. You smile back.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, putting his own book down. Of course he could read you as easily as the book. “Nothing,” you reply, trying to look more at ease. He gives you a skeptical, teasing glare. “Alright, I’m just a bit cold.”

He chuckles. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “I’m saying something now.” “You didn’t exactly freely offer the information, sunshine,” he says as he takes his jumper off. “What are you doing?” “What’s it look like?” “But then you’ll be cold!” “I’ll be fine.” He throws his jumper at your face. You give him an annoyed look, but internally you’re giddy. Your stern glare dissolves in record time as you shimmy into the warm article of clothing. You can hear Remus chuckling at you as he watches.

It’s soo soft and warm, Remus’s body heat lingering on the fabric. You burrow blissfully into it.

“Better?” he teases. “Much,” you admit. You slide closer to him. “Feel,” you say, and you grab his face with your freezing hands. He jumps exaggeratedly at the contact. “Bloody hell, Y/N! I’m surprised your fingers haven’t fallen off. C’mere.” He pulls your cold hands into his somehow perpetually warm ones and rubs them. He brings them up to his lips and breathes warm air into your connected hands.

It’s certainly heating you up, but you’d be lying if you denied the contact and affection were as much if not more to thank than the heat.

When you whisper “thanks,” it’s barely audible. Remus plants the lightest kiss onto your hand as he brings them back down.

“You’re welcome.” His mellow voice matches his cosy jumper, his warm hands.

“I have an idea,” he adds.

“Oh yeah?” “Come here,” he smiles, and he pats the ground between his legs right in front of him. You furrow your brows at him, and he just chuckles. “If we’re closer together, we’ll share more heat.”

Reasonable, thinks your mind. Wonderful, feels your heart.

You shuffle over to him, squirming into place but keeping a tiny gap between you. Remus brings his arm around your middle and pulls you back flush against him. You settle your back against his chest as his hands rub your arms up and down. Then he gently tugs the sleeves of his jumper over your hands and squeezes. He settles into you, his arms wrapped around you.

“Comfortable?” he asks at your ear. It sends a warm shiver through you. “Yeah, Rem. It’s nice.”

“Hm,” he hums affirmatively, nuzzling you lightly and pecking a soft kiss at your hairline.

#marauder x reader #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x reader #sirius x reader #remus lupin fluff #sirius black fluff

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