oreithyia0

[oreithyia0]

this was so stinkin' CUTE!!! The slow burn was perfect, and professor lupin has my heart ; the subtly, the stolen glances, skin brushing by accident, MWAH, PERFECT!

helloo!! can i request a professor lupin x reader pleasee :))

in how he’d deal with a very shy, quite aloof student reader who is defo not unwilling btw!! but just very inexperienced in dating stuff. how would he try and court them pre-relationship once they both have this mutual interest for each other and how would that show (glances in class, conversations in the hallway, notes of praise after he returns a paper, etc)

thank u :)))

Most Ardently

Professor!Lupin x Student!Reader

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, SLIGHT smut if you read super carefully. My grammar is bad. Let me live.

Word count: 5k. Get snacks, it���s a long ass ride (slow burn)

‼️LUPIN IS 28 AND Y/N IS 19‼️

A/N: I hope you love it!! I think I wrote her more aloof than shy tho <3 thanks for your request!

~

Goosepimples travel up your legs as you walked through the corridors, cursing yourself for not wearing tights when the sun was high in the sky this morning. You tucked your books under your arms as your robe flew behind you, you were late to class. You hated being late, just as much as you hated answering in class; you shivered as you thought of every student turning towards you hesitating at the door with your cheeks glowing red like always. It was your biggest curse. The fact your cheeks glowed red in any temperature and whenever your heart beat pitched ever so slightly. Everyone knew when you were embarrassed and shy and everyone made fun of you; including your friends.

The DADA classroom door was wide open; you had to halt, not far from the door but far enough so no one would see you waiting there like a numpty. You heard Professor Lupin, his gentle voice carrying through the air as you try to calm your breathing. It’s just a couple of students, no one is staring at you, no one is going to be mean. You thought to yourself as you inhaled through your nose, finally acquiring the confidence (if you can call it that) and made your way into the classroom.

Everyone turned to look. Everyone watched you as you walked, scarily fast, towards the front row where your seat was next to your best friend. She gave you a raised eyebrow, you ignored it though because you wanted the class to continue as fast as possible and you sat, slamming your books on the wooden desk; jumping at the sound that echoed. You looked up and saw Professor Lupin staring at you with a calm, but bored look. Celine, your best friend, nudged you with her pointy elbow. You were confused for a moment, a few students sighing through their nose, and you stared blankly at Professor Lupin who had now tucked his hands in his robe.

“Apologise for being late.” Celine hissed, quietly.

“Oh!” You startled. “Sorry for being late.” Celine cleared her throat. “Sir.” It came across rude and sarcastic but you truly didn’t mean that, you were put on spot to speak and that ached your social battery already.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.” He nodded once and continued on with the class. Finally.

You hunched over your work, your writing started off as careful looped letters that graced your page with beautiful elegance but by the end of the class, you were writing like a six year old; your hand aching. Celine had already packed up when you were finishing your paragraph.

“Must you always write so much?” She moaned. “I want food!” She stamped her foot and pouted, you smiled at your friend always wanting to opt for the dramatics as you began packing away your stuff.

“You’ll survive another ten minutes.” You smiled, loving your friend and her way of words. Professor Lupin was cleaning his blackboard when the rest of the students left, no one thanking him but you did. You always thanked your teachers.

“Thanks, Professor.” You smiled brightly and he looked over his shoulder, giving a flat handed wave with a smile dancing on his lips. You kept eye contact as you walked out the classroom.

That eye contact definitely made your heart shrivel up inside because you didn’t mean to hold it for that long and…. Merlin. Did he think you were weird? Did he think why is this girl staring at me? You tried to dispel those thoughts from your head as you reached the Hufflepuff table, with your friends who were eagerly eating their lunches.

“Wow, Celine, it’s unlike you to be here fifteen minutes past the beginning of lunch!” Jonny laughed, an older student, just by a year.

“Miss Suck-Up was too busy writing a manifesto and I had to wait for her.” She dumped her bags on the floor and slumped onto the bench, instantly piling her plate with chicken, salad and chips. You sat opposite her and silently ate some rice and salad, being the pickiest eater in Hufflepuff.

~

Deep yellow candlelight’s hung off the ceiling as you curved over your work books, your hand going one thousand miles an hour across your page; so much so you forgot to care about the neatness of it all. It was your fault that your hand was aching, almost feeling bruised, because your DADA homework was due tomorrow. Despite having a nice Professor, DADA was definitely your weakest subject and you tried and tried to get the best grades possible but it just never worked. A hand landed on your shoulder, you stifled a scream as you looked up to see the librarian.

“Library is shutting now, dearie.” She said, patting your shoulder softly. You nodded, swallowing down your tongue and gathering everything into your bag. You slung it over your shoulder, slugging towards the Hufflepuff Common Room with heavy feet. The tiredness was beginning to creep in and it was a great feat to keep your eyes open.

“Miss Y/L/N.” A familiar voice said behind you. You whipped around, suddenly alert and saw Professor Lupin standing in front of you, his wand in front of him with a lighted tip. His hair was slightly askew but he looked nice all the same.

“Um. Hi.” You said, unable to create pleasant conversation because you were too tired but also because you simply didn’t know how to speak to a Professor outside the classroom.

“Late to class?” There was a confusing lilt to his voice.

“Classes finished two hours ago, sir.” You said, your eyebrows raising in suspicion. He chuckled to himself, shuffling on his feet and looking down at the stone floor.

“It was a joke, Miss Y/L/N.” You sucked in all the air and you felt that all too familiar heat bursting in your cheeks, you looked down, clearing your throat.

“Sorry.” You whispered, too embarrassed to look at him.

“No need for apologies, Miss Y/L/N. It was a sweet reaction.” His voice was drunk with warmth.

“I should… probably go. It’s curfew soon.” You said, still looking down and you knew he smiled and said goodnight but you were rushing to the Common Room before he even opened his mouth to speak.

~

“You have no idea, I was absolutely hammered.” Your friend, Lucas, said; his mouth full of bacon as he spoke over you and to Celine, who was intently listening over her Greek yogurt.

“Where did you go? You disappeared.” Celine said, spooning a mountain of yogurt into her mouth. Last night, Ravenclaw had a Common Room party and they only invited Hufflepuff and their own House; but you were dead to the world by the time it had begun. You do remember, though, your friends stumbling into their beds with slurring words and wide eyes.

You switched off from the conversation as your eyes wandered towards the teachers table where Professor Lupin was deep in conversation with your favourite Professor Sprout. You watched carefully as his bottom lip moved up and down, his eyes twinkling with intelligence as they spoke about a deep mutual interest and you admired the way he used his arms to express his words. But you were staring too much because Professor Lupin caught your eye, a sweet smile on his lips as he nodded in your direction. Your heart jumped in your throat and you turned down at your food, spooning porridge into your mouth so much you had to have Celine bang against your back to stop you from choking. Mortifying.

You couldn’t look your Professor in the eyes when you sat, your back slightly arched and your hands tucked between your thighs as you looked at the large black wardrobe in the middle of the room. Despite all desks being pushed to the sides, you still found a place to perch, so you did. Professor Lupin was gallivanting around the classroom, telling the students about Boggats and the spell Riddikulus.

“Didn’t we do this a couple of years ago?” Celine questioned, you envied the fact that your peers could outright speak to anyone they came face to face with. You couldn’t.

“Yes but with everything that’s brewing, it’s important for you all to understand this.” He replied simply. “Okay!” He clapped his hands together. “Everyone form a singular line.” Celine held onto your hand as you both took place, you behind Celine. Your hands began to sweat as you took the steps forward as students mastered the spell and had escaped to the end of the line. It was too quick and you were next after Celine. She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined a big clown running playfully towards her with a menacing laugh.

“RIDDIKULUS!” She howled with her wand straight at this clown and it bundled to the floor into balloons that filtered through the air. As she turned, she squeezed your shoulder and winked. You tried to smile but nothing came and you stood there, silent, staring at this dark wardrobe. You shut your eyes, squeezing your eyelids so much you feel your brain begin to hurt and you think, think and think. Until your eyes open and you see it. Yourself, scared and crying, with students around you; they’re laughing at you and you look down and see that you had wet yourself. You, in real time, begin to shake, your hands trembling so much your wand clatters to the ground and your heart begins to shake your ribcage as you stumble back. Lupin walks over to you, a slight change in his face. Something akin to confusion, embarrassment or sadness. He makes his way over, his wand at the ready until you notice his eyes; pity pouring out and she couldn’t take it anymore. All eyes were on you as you sprinted out the room. Your breathing laboured and fast as your legs brought you to a skidding halt outside your common room. You leaned against the wall, tears streaming down your face and your heart pounding harder than it has before; breathing deep and hurting your small chest.

“Y/N! You run so fast!” Your best friend ran basically at you, her breathing quick, and engulfed you in a warm hug. Her arms clasping around your back, she cradled you from side to side and shushed, her hand stroking your hair as you cried into the crook of her neck.

You weren’t fully sure why you were crying. Maybe it’s finally realising your nightmarish fear, right in front of your eyes; or maybe it’s seeing Lupin stalk towards you, something akin to pity in his eyes as his wand began to move. Still, whatever it was, the hurt in your chest was splitting you apart.

~

A few hours later, it was dinner and you mustered the courage to sit with your peers; still reeling from the shock. Lucas smiles at you as you approach the table, clutching your wrists and sitting opposite him. To your surprise, he reaches forward and places his fingers on your knuckles;

“I hope you’re okay, Y/N.” He says softly, a smile growing across his lips and he sits back when you simply give him a nod of thanks.

“We’re not talking about it.” Celine swipes her hand in the air, mimicking a line and slapped her hand on a chicken drumstick, taking it and shoving it in her mouth; speaking again. “Anyway, Professor Snape can do one..” Celine rattled on about Snape, but you were done listening instead you smushed your food around your plate, thinking of Lupin’s sad face and the feeling in your chest. Behind you, someone coughed. Startled, you turned around to Professor Lupin’s chest, in a light green shirt and an askew black tie. Your eyes hesitantly travelled from his chest to his brown beard to his kind hazel eyes that were looking down at you.

“Miss Y/L/N, may i speak with you?” You nodded, swinging your legs over the bench and following him outside the Great Hall, where students were beginning to leave. He turns, leaning against the wall smoothly. “How are you?” He is casual. You are not. So you shake your head.

“Good.” You gulped, shoving your hands deep in your robe pockets.

“I would like to tutor you if it isn’t too much trouble.” He said.

“Why?” But he hesitated. Looking around before answering you, he pushed himself off the wall.

“What happened today…” he sees your eyes well. “It’s normal for a human being to act like that and I don’t want to see a bright student struggle with something she needs to understand, so let me tutor you, every Tuesday evening at 6 until 7PM. How does that sound?”

How does that sound? You weren’t sure. Being alone in a room with a man so incredible at magic and being that sad little student crying over students looking at her would be humiliating. But you want, so badly, to be a good witch and you’re a natural people pleaser.

“Sure. Sounds good.” You manage a smile. He seemed pretty pleased with that, smiling at you and walking back into the Great Hall.

~

A week later, you’re walking through the corridors as your peers hang in their dorms or the common rooms after a particularly hard day with mock exams in Potions and Herbology. You absolutely smashed the Herbology exam, which was obvious as you were a natural in that subject. Professor Sprout even gave you a bear hug after the exam, when you came out with tears streaming down your cheeks with happiness.

Your tutoring with Professor Lupin started tonight and despite your happiness, you were still terrified of the lesson. DADA classroom door was open and you could hear Lupin speaking, encouragingly and another nasal voice responding. You stand in the open doorway and notice Harry Potter sitting on the steps, his head in his hands, Lupin with a bar of chocolate in his hand, standing over him.

“Ah! Miss Y/L/N! Good to see you, step in, me and Harry are finished now.” He slapped Harry on the back, friendly, and Harry stood up. Pulling his robe on, he looked at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N.” He said, passing you.

“Hey, Harry.” You whispered and you stepped into the classroom.

“Take off your robe.” He smiled. “Get comfortable, it’s going to be a bit intense.” He also stripped off his own robe, discarding in on the staircase to his office and holding his hand out for yours. You shrug it off, instantly feeling cold, and hand it to him before covering your body with your arms.

“Are you feeling nervous?” He asked, pushing the black wardrobe forward towards you and your heart pitches; breathing deeply through your nose but it doesn’t do anything for you.

“A little.” You shrugged, fetching your wand from your skirt waistband. You tighten your fist around it, your palms slick with sweat as Lupin gestures you to come forward to face the wardrobe.

“Look straight at it, at your reflection in the mirror and breathe. Deep, measured breaths. Calm your heart to a normal pace.” He was standing behind you, his breath travelling down the back of your neck. You do as he says, closing your eyes and breathing the soft evening air through your nose, imagining your lungs expanding with the oxygen; you will your heart to stop being so fast and the air journeys through your body. Opening your eyes, you raise your wand, pointing it directly at the wardrobe waiting for you to come out of the door. And then you do. You look the same, just as you do now, and you’re crying; crying harder than you’ve ever seen, and you notice first your best friends following you and laughing and whispering until your entire Hufflepuff House are standing around you whispering; then, the worst part of it all, you wet yourself, making yourself small and everyone starts laughing. An echoing sound that bounces off the walls, piercing your ears and your heart begins to fall, through your stomach and it churns. You can’t do it. You gag, turning away from the scene and covering your mouth as you wretch into them.

“Riddikulus!” Lupin asserted, before coming to your aid. “Are you okay?” You shake your head vehemently. “Come on, you can do this, Miss Y/L/N. I know you can.” He tapped your shoulder with gentle hands and you slowly get to your feet, your hands trembling but determined to do this because you need to stop embarrassing yourself in front of him and leaving with the consequences.

You stand, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand; trying to stop the trembling that seems to even shake your organs. Breathing deeply, allowing the emotions to alert your nerves and then you appear, the same scene as before. You try and try to fight it, tears streaming down your real cheeks and you blink to stop the blurring.

“Ri-“ you stammer, gripping your wand as your grip became loose and you point it, alerted at the wardrobe. You’re wetting yourself now, in front of real life you and even worse, the scene is unfolding into worse. “Riddikulus.” You whispered but then your wand dropped and you turned away, crying silently into your hands.

“Come here.” A soft, soothing motion engulfed your shoulders and you rested your weary head on Lupin’s chest whilst simultaneously keeping the distance between you both. He awkwardly pats your shoulders before pulling away, holding your elbows. “Look at me.”

“I can’t do it.” You said, sniffling.

“You can. I believe you can do this. You are strong and you are capable. Come on, Y/N! Come on! You can do this!” He gripped you by the shoulders, shaking you backward and forward gently until you have turned around. Breathing heavily and deeply through your nose, you do it again. This time something sparks through your veins, you watch the scene unfold in front of you and your tears stream down your face. Sniffing and whimpering, you scream;

“Riddikulus!” And the scene goes away, into a group hug. You drop your wand and shriek into your hands.

O! Yes!” Lupin cheered, pulling out a chocolate bar and giving it to you. “I knew you could do it! I knew it!” You wiped your tears, completely bewildered that you finally did it. You were so far from mastering it and it could’ve completely been by fluke; but you did it, that’s what matters right now. “By next week, you will be amazing at this.” He clapped you on the back. “Well done, Miss Y/L/N.” He smiled gently, his eyes warm and soft as you thanked him and made your way out.

You practically skipped to your dorm, your heart fluttering and pounding at the same time with your achievement. Also with Lupin’s smile and the sweetness that soaked his tone, that made your heart warm.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Celine clutched your arm, her hair in curlers and her face covered with some kind of skin treatment.

“I did it!” You shrieked and she pounced on you, her arms squeezing around your body.

~

The greenhouse was sweltering today as you tried to mix and create the Rose Growth draught. Next to you, Celine was muttering curse words as she was struggling with it. Professor Sprout walked past and chuckled at her words, both of you were her favourites so it didn’t matter what you said because it always made her laugh. Even though you hardly speak in classes anyway.

“Well done for last night, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve heard everything about it.” Sprout gave you a little wink as you showed her the Rose Growth draught.

“Thanks, Professor.” You whispered, blushing. Celine gave you a little nudge and now she’s been calling Lupin for your boyfriend because you mentioned that he hugged you.

The best part of your Wednesday was having an hour of free period, where you could go into the library and read without being interrupted because no body came to the library during Wednesday. With your book under your arm, you settled in your normal spot, legs curled up to your chest and your back resting gently on the polished wood wall, with a cushion underneath you. Your mind is transformed onto a stormy, rainy day and you are running through a wet field until the man you love, Mr Darcy, comes running after you. You mouth the words as he tells Elizabeth Bennet that he loves her. Your favourite part because you adore the way Elizabeth speaks up for herself; something you wish you could do, but know you’re too much of a people pleaser to speak your mind.

“I love you, most ardently.” You jerk your head up, your breath catching as you see Professor Lupin looking at you. You take a small pause before smiling.

“Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” You asked, shocked that a wizard has read a muggle book.

“It’s my favourite book.” He shrugged.

“Same.” You said quietly, a blush rising to your cheeks. You tried to hide it by looking down into your book; curling your toes as you try to die your enthusiasm. Lupin simply looked at you with a slight smile on his lips, watching as you try - ever so hardly - to quit blushing. He pinched himself for staring at you, so he came to say what he planned.

“I forgot to give you this.” You watched as he reached into his pocket and produced a golden wrapper of chocolate, he passes it to you. “A gift from me.” You take the golden wrapper from his hand, feeling the grooves of the chocolate design; you hold it firmly in your hand and say;

“Thank you, Sir.” You blushed deeply and looked down. He watched you, unwrapping the chocolate and breaking off a piece to give to him; his fingers grazed yours as he took it from you, smiling at you sweetly.

“I’ll see you in class later today. Hope you’ve done your homework.” He sends you a playful wink and walks away. You snuggled into your little nook with a chocolate bar and your favourite book; the best feeling ever.

You and Celine pushed your desks to one side, as did the other students, waiting for Lupin to come forward with the classes task today. There was no wardrobe so it was unlikely they were practising the Riddikulus charm. Everyone gathered, awaiting Lupin who was standing on the small raised stage with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Today we are going to learn how to defend ourselves.” He announced. You and Celine stuck to each other, ready to spar and be friendly with it instead of violent like the Slytherins. Lucas and a boy from Ravenclaw go up to the platform first, their wands at the ready; the Ravenclaw stares a hole right through him but Lucas has always been brilliant at spells. Lupin swipes his hand down to signal the beginning of the sparring and they both start going at each other. As different colours of the spells light up the room and your faces, your eyes drift to the concentrated face of your Professor. You noticed a scar down his left eyebrow where the growth stopped, the way his mouth set in a straight line when he concentrated and the way his eyes gleamed with knowledge and interest at his students. You were still looking when the sparring finished and he looked at you, his eyes light and pupils dilating but you panicked and looked away quickly.

“Miss Y/L/N and Miss Rose, please step up.” He beckoned both of you over and you stared at each other, smiling happily and with that signal both of you started throwing spells at each other. Celine had always been stronger, and she made you step back multiple times until you sent across a strong spell that had her flying across the room but she didn’t give up. She jumped back on her feet and ran at you with her wand; sending you flat on your bottom. She helped you back up and hugged you. It was likely she was going to win anyway and it was fine. Both of you got back into the crowd and as you turned, Lupin was looking at you with an easy smile; you blushed and looked at your feet.

~

Tuesday evening saw you walking speedily through the corridors to master that blasted spell Riddikulus. You stood in the doorway as you waited for Harry to pack up his things and leave, brushing your shoulder as he walked past. You smiled at Lupin, who was telling you to step inside;

“Poor lad is still struggling with it.” He said, scratching the back of his head. You didn’t respond, just smiled, and threw your robe on the desk nearest to you. He pushed the wardrobe towards you.

“Did you like the chocolate?” He asked, from behind the wardrobe as he pushed it.

“Yes.” You replied, wiping your slick palms on your skirt. He looked at you, a bit confused but it quickly passed when you were determined to get this spell mastered on the first try. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking of that horror and when you opened them; it was there in front of you. Your sweat beaded down your temple as you tried to, at least, squeeze out the charm but you couldn’t. Your throat closed up and scratched as you as the air tried to come out and make sound, but you couldn’t. As you stood there, he placed a large hand on your shoulder and shouted the spell. You sank onto your knees and sighed hard through your nose.

“I don’t think i can do this.” You said, swiping your hand through your hair.

“You can. You did this last week, you can do it again. I know you can.” He brought you up to your feet and gave it another try. And then another try. But today just wasn’t your day.

“I wasted your evening.” You sighed, tying your robe around you. “Sorry.”

“No, no you didn’t. Every lesson is a learning experience, you should be proud of yourself for even facing your fear without crying, that’s a big step for you.” He smiled at you from his desk, a quill in his hand as he wrote something down. “Here, take this.” He held it out but didn’t move, you had to go to him and, like before, your fingers grazed each other; your heart feeling weird as it happened and you could tell he felt something as well because he sheepishly smiled. “Have a good night.” He gave you a curt nod before you left.

Cozy in your bed, you opened the note that said:

Please, never give up.

R. J. Lupin x

There was a kiss at the end of the note which took you by surprise, you folded the note and held it to your chest, sighing into a smile.

~

You wrapped your denim jacket around you as you and your friends walked through the autumn air at Hogsmead. In your hand was a bag of chocolate frogs, you always bit the head off first to take them out of their misery and you love every minute of it. The sweetness as it oozed on your tongue and how smoothly it ran down your throat. Celine pointed out your favourite bookstore which was named Magical Muggle Books and you practically ran inside. You inhaled the old book, dusty and lavender scent that drifted throughout the shelves and you walked through your favourite section which was romance. Specifically, classic romance. Your index finger grazes against the colourful spines and hardbacks. Your finger bumped into a hard, sweater chest and your eyes followed your finger, up to a muscular neck and then to a soft but sharp face with kind eyes. Professor Lupin. You looked at him with surprise and confusion, why was he in the romance section? Not that it mattered and you quickly removed your finger, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling shyly.

“Hello there, Miss Y/L/N.” He said, smiling. You breathed in and smelled lavender on his sweater. “Everything okay?” Now his face was definitely confused and you just knew you were glowing red, but thank Merlin for the yellowish candles that hung overhead.

“Yep. Fine.” You said, turning back to the books.

“Sorry. I know what it’s like when someone interrupts you reading or looking for a book. I’ll leave you to it.” He smiled, talking quietly but you instantly turned and almost shouted.

“No! No.” You laughed a little, humiliatingly. “I mean, your company is um… fine.” You smiled, playing with your hair hesitantly.

“Have you read Wuthering Heights?” He asked, both of you walking along the aisle almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Yes, three times. You?” You replied, your hands clasped at the front.

“Five.” He replied, a smug look playing on his face.

“Five!?” You said, excitedly, looking at him with a smile and he looked down at you, a fond smile.

“Yes, five. I am a hopeless romantic.” He laughed, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Sounds like it.” You replied, a little bluntly and putting a stop to the laughter; you didn’t mean too.

“Y/N! How long are you going to take? I’m bored!” Celine shouted from the shop doorway.

“I’ve gotta go.” You said, turning face to face to Lupin and he nodded, a bit grimly.

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday.” He waved and you waved and you left.

~

Breakfast filed through the corridors as you and Celine walked, arm in arm, discussing the recent weekend when you see Professor Lupin walking towards you. He didn’t notice you at first, but you looked at him and saw a graze down the side of his face. Weird. You wanted to divert your gaze, however you noticed that you lingered on him for longer than necessary; no longer listening to your raven haired friend. He looked handsome today. He always did. Today is the first time you noticed. His eyes met yours and suddenly the three of you met at the doors of the Great Hall. You simply stared, no expression on your face as they both stared at you like you were crazy.

“Um… Y/N.” Celine began, you turned around to face her with a sorry smile on your face.

“I’ll see you in the Great Hall.” You said, Celine gave a weird look between you and Lupin before sauntering off. She obviously said something to your friends because they looked.

“Y/N-“ he cut himself off, “Miss Y/L/N. How may i help you?” Your heart faltered a little, you weren’t sure why, when he corrected himself. You swallowed your confusing feelings.

“It was … um … nice seeing you at the bookstore.” That’s all you said and you punched yourself for it internally because the look he gave you was so awkward; you felt yourself growing redder by the second.

“It was nice to see you too, Miss Y/L/N.” He nodded and quickly disappeared into the Great Hall leaving you with weird feelings and a flutter in your tummy.

Later that day was the dreaded DADA mock exam, it was just a written exam today and you knew you would smash that; you always did when it came to words. But when you walked in and you saw your Professor, with his sleeves rolled up and no robe, you felt some kind of way. You couldn’t explain it, it was a feeling you had never felt before and you physically had to move your eyeballs away from him. You and Celine sat together, your thighs reacting from the cold wood of the seat as your eyes strained on the parchment in front of you; your wrist growing weaker as the minutes progressed. Every so often you would look up, just a quick break for your brain, and your eyes would connect with Lupin’s toned body; writing something lazily and he scanned the room quickly until his eyes landed on you. He smiled warmly as you both connected, your tummy bubbling and you squeezed out a smile before hastily getting back to your work and you swore you heard a chuckle emit from Lupin.

“I think I deserve a Crucio for that exam. Dreadful.” Celine moaned, handing in her parchment at his desk. You smiled, feeling way differently, you landed your parchment on the desk in front of Lupin; he looked up when you came, taking the parchment from your hands, your fingers grazing and you snatched your hand away; suddenly nervous and almost ran away.

A small vial, emitting pink and white steam as you and your class looked on in awe. The potion that everyone whispered about excitedly at the beginning of the year because they couldn’t wait to finally test it out.

“Can anyone tell me the name of this potion?” Snape drawled, his arms crossed. People murmured behind you, scared to say the word so you stepped forward; for the first time ever in Potions, ever in front of Snape to answer. It took you by surprise, it felt like some invisible force pushing you forward.

“Amortentia.” You answered, Snape looked at you with a face that you couldn’t explain. A little bit disappointed, a little bit surprised and a little bit proud. It was an odd mix.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Amortentia. And can you tell me what it is?” He folded his arms tighter across his chest, his eyes penetrating you. You swallowed your instant anxiety about answering and cleared your throat.

“It’s the most powerful love potion in the world and can be dangerous. It can lead to obsessive infatuation.” You spoke as quickly as you could, just get over it and get over the fact your classmates were looking at you. Snape made a face.

“Come. Step forward. Smell it. It’s different for everyone.” He beckoned, moving away from the vial. You looked at Celine, who nodded her head, beckoning you to go ahead; that there’s nothing to be scared of. Your feet move hesitantly, you noticed your classmates shifting with boredom. The potion brewed in front of you and invited you in, your face slowly approached the steam and instantly your nostrils were infiltrated with tea; strong, sugary tea with little to no milk, sometimes herbal; chocolate, sweet and smooth; lavender, freshly picked from a colourful garden and parchment, dried ink on a paper underneath candlelight. You stumbled back, realising with sheer shock who you were smelling; Professor Lupin. You hadn’t even noticed how beautiful he smelt and how cozy he was.

“Well?” Snape asked and suddenly you were thrown back into the classroom.

“I didn’t smell anything.” You blurted, almost incoherently. Snape raised his eyebrows at you but took your answer and called for someone else to smell it. Celine stared a hole through you because she knew you were lying, but you couldn’t stare back because what the fuck? Professor Lupin? What would he say about this? His own student is in love with him? At least that was what the potion said but how do you know what love is?

Was it love the way you’d look at him and smile awkwardly? Was it love when you got that slight flutter in your tummy whenever he simply looked at you? What is love? Because you certainly don’t have the answer.

~

You can do this. You thought as you very slowly made your way to the DADA classroom the next day. All through the night you had thought about Potions, you still had no answer and weren’t close to one and all you knew was that fate obviously believed you were in love with your Professor. That was so absurd. You hadn’t even had your first kiss yet, not properly anyway, unless you’re counting Percy Weasley in Year 2 behind the trees when your friends dared you both to make out. That was a peck. Hardly anything and his lips were dry.

Professor Lupin was working behind his desk this time, no sign of Harry, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he marked some work; you watched as he tapped the feather of his quill on his lips as he read through it. Your heart skipped a beat at the way he slid his fingers through his hair, he looked tired but beautiful. You kicked yourself out of that weird trance and cleared your throat, making him jerk up. His eyes softened as he looked at you, he didn’t say a thing, he simply looked with a small smile on his lips. You both stared at each other, your heart doing crazy things inside of you and your brain and worries just melting away as you made your way into his classroom. He scraped his seat back and stalked towards you.

“Y/N.” He said, this time not correcting himself.

“Professor.” You said, in a small voice. But something in him clicked and this trance you both were in suddenly burned away when he cleared his throat and clapped his hands.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He glided towards the black wardrobe, pushing it forward. You tried to smile, feeling a little deflated that your bubble was burst. You had began to feel something inside of you growing when you were gazing at each other, someone that you had never felt before and… it was freeing.

Your wand was shaking the fourth time you attempted the Riddikulus charm, tears streaming down your face; you were a real sight to behind in the mirrors of the wardrobe and you attempted to ignore it but it basically made it worse. Lupin was behind you, not too close to make you uncomfortable but not too far to make you feel like you were alone. His face was etched with worry as he watched you squint your eyes and force yourself to look upon the scene. But you just couldn’t do it. Not tonight. You dropped your wand and walked away from it, your tears drying up on your face and your body shaking; you couldn’t cry anymore, you had already destroyed your dignity around him, you didn’t want to completely demolish it to never return.

“I wasted your time. Again.” You said, your voice thick, as you threw your robe on; ready to get the hell out of there.

“Stop saying that.” He demanded, striding towards you. “Never say that again. My time with you is never wasted.” His hands carefully held your cheeks, so he could look you in the eye. Your heart stopped and your mouth went dry as you tried to fight for something to say.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, hoping and praying your breath didn’t smell bad. He searched your face before removing his hands and backing away. Instantly, your face felt cold. You ached for his warmth again.

“Have a good night, Y/N.” He said, a ghost of a smile. You nodded and basically ran out of the classroom like someone was chasing you.

~

You sat on your chair in DADA, watching Lupin swan through the front of the class, writing with increasing speed on the chalkboard; you had your chin in your hand and watched his wrist move with ease as the letters spiralled out of control. When he turned, his eyes caught yours and he smiled; leaving a watery feeling in your stomach, making you blush and look away. Your eyes glazed over and imagined Lupin walking towards you with that beautiful smile, taking your face in his hands like he did last night and planting a soft kiss on your lips. Gasping, you snapped out of it, causing Celine to look over at you with a perplexing expression.

Your quill worked hard to forget that imagination when a small note flew onto your desk; you felt the flutter before you saw it resting on the back of your hand. No one else seemed to see it. You moved, secretly, and opened the note:

You’re doing brilliantly.

RJL x

Your head snapped up without any hesitation and both of you gazed at each other, his hand was resting on his desk and his other cupping his chin. His smile spread across his lips, his eyes gentle and sweet as you matched the smile; your heart pitching and a fuzzy feeling rising to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. You saw his eyes roam your cheeks and his chuckled under his breath before breaking the eye contact. For a mere second, you watched as he continued his writing.

“I need to talk to Professor Lupin.” Celine commented.

“Why?” You asked, packing your books in your bag and swinging it over your shoulder.

“I need some tutoring. I heard he’s giving them to some students.” She sighed, walking towards him. Something tilted in your stomach and you didn’t understand it, your throat grew tight as you watched him and Celine speak at length about tutoring. For some reason, a pressure behind your eyes appeared and you had to look away so no one would see.

“Coming, Y/N?” Celine questioned, looking at you.

“Yeah.” You plastered a smile and walked off, trying not to look behind you.

“See you later, Miss Y/L/N!” Lupin exclaimed after you left the classroom.

After your final class and just before dinner, you were roaming the corridors with your edition of Wuthering Heights and your nose deep into it. A familiar pair of footsteps brought you out of your mind, you raised your head and saw that stunning man just looking at you. A sheepish smile on his face as he approached, his hands dug into his pockets.

“Y/N.” The use of your own first name gave you intense flutters and you weren’t sure you could stand for much longer.

“Sir.” You whispered, looking at the space between your feet. His feet stepped forward, closing that space between you. Your head lifted and caught on your breath when his face was so close to yours. His eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your eyes, he looked away and pulled your arm into the darkness of the corridor. “What are you-“ your words stopped in the air as his hand landed on your cheek softly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He whispered, the darkness making this way more intimate than it needed to be. You swallowed, intending to speak but you couldn’t so you just watched as his eyes flickered back to your lips. “Tell me I’m making this up. Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you hate me.” Your lips quivered, your stomach turning and jumping. Your heart smiling as you felt his breath paint your face.

“I don’t.” You whispered, your eyes flickering to the closeness of his lips to your face. When you answered something crossed his face, you couldn’t understand whether it was happiness or sadness and your heart almost dropped.

“I’m an old man. I’m poor. I have nothing to offer you.” You simply didn’t know what to say so you remained quiet, but you pulled his hands to your chest and held them there for a moment before he leaned in, hesitantly slightly before locking his lips with yours. For a second, you tensed up and let his lips fall over yours before you knocked into the moment and started moving your lips back; your shoulders so tensed by your ears and his hands let go, travelling to your shoulder blades, his fingers caressing the soft skin in circles as his lips educated themselves on your own. Your hands sat on his collarbones, softly scrunching up his robe but you managed to sink into his embrace. He pulled away far too soon, his lips red and swollen as he kept his hands on you; his forehead creating contact with yours as you both sighed into the embrace.

“What do we do now?” He asked, quietly. For some reason you burst into laughter, hiding your laughs in his hands. He was smiling as well.

“I don’t know.” You said, dropping your hands quickly by your sides as a bus load of students passed.

“We… we have to keep this a secret. Whatever this is.” He said, a little bit sadly.

“Whatever this is.” You repeated, whispering. “I think I might be late to class.” You watched your classmates walking by, he looked too.

“Okay… okay.” He said, stepping back. You smiled shyly and walked back into the light of the corridor, spotting Celine and running to her.

Potions proved to be fruitless, you weren’t thinking of the class or the teacher or anything to do with it, instead you thought of Professor Lupin. His gentle hands and soft gaze as he looked at you and touched you; the way he would listen intently to everything you said and that kiss. That kiss that ignited fireworks and internal magic, you smiled in the cup of your hand; not understanding these feelings fully but absolutely loving the way he made you feel. You wanted to see him again.

~

A few nights later, you and Celine were lying in your separate beds with Celine throwing a ball up to the ceiling and catching it. You were cocooned in your blankets, nice and warm, with only your head poking out as you thought back to the kiss and his gazes and him. You hadn’t seen each other since then and you missed him. You missed him with everything you had inside and whilst you were lying there, you waited for DADA to creep around.

And creep around it did. You didn’t sleep a wink when you dragged yourself into DADA, your professor looking handsome and fresh and he watched you drag yourself to your chair, perching on it. He smiled at you, sending a warm shiver down your spine, making you tingle slightly as you took out your books. Every time he spoke, which was the entire lesson, you were in a deep trance watching as he illuminated with knowledge and excitement.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Celine asked, her eyes narrowed.

“Like what?” You snapped out of it.

“It’s really creepy. I’ve never seen you smile like that.” For dramatic effect, she moved her chair from you. Your heart dropped a little before you realised she was joking. You tried to shake it off but you shouldn’t be so obvious that you fancy your professor in front of people.

At the end of class, you packed away your things before Professor Lupin called you back. Both of you waited for everyone to leave before he pulled you into his arms, closing the door with wandless magic; you snuggled, confidently somehow, your head into his chest and his chin sat atop your crown. Just for this moment, you both relaxed in the embrace and enjoyed it; his heart beat against his ribs and vibrated in your head.

“I saw you smiling.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be so obvious that I fancy you.” You giggled, feeling confident in his embrace.

“You fancy me?” He pulled away, his hands clasped on your elbows and his face pulled into a joking expression. You blushed deeply and refused to answer, you hid in his shirt; emitting a deep laughter from his gut.

“I should go.” You said, pulling away. Your steps echoing through the room. He nodded and as you turned away, he grabbed your elbow, planting a kiss on your lips; very softly.

~

Two evenings later, you were in your nice spot in the library whilst the rain slammed against the windows. You leaned on the wooden panel, the crown of your head resting on it with your shoulder as you flipped a new page of Wuthering Heights and sighed with contentment as your eyes danced around the page. By your side was a steaming cup of green tea you managed to conjure. Sip by sip, your mind wandered to Lupin and the way he kissed you in the times no one could see; his gentle lips so careful on yours and the way he wasn’t too hard with you when he would grab you. The way he smiled during every kiss, his hands going no lower than your waist. You sighed, happy, and closed your book; ready for a good nights sleep when you saw Celine tumbling out of the DADA classroom, laughing manically and Lupin following, his hair slightly askew. Your throat shrivelled up, your heart slowed as you watched your best friend stare at your professor as he spoke to her animatedly. Celine was just as hyper as he was and your poor soft heart knocked twice as hard as it did when he first kissed you. You wished, so deeply, that you were as extroverted as she; you wished you could speak to people the way she could, be at ease in any social situation. But that wasn’t you. And you hated it. So you turned the other way, walking as fast as you can; hoping that Lupin didn’t see you.

“Lupin is so funny.” Celine laughed as you and your friends sat in the common room with snacks surrounding you. Your blood boiled a little bit with the use of Lupin instead of Professor Lupin.

“Merlin, do you fancy him?” Lucas groaned, grabbing a handful of jelly beans. Your heart faltered again.

“Who doesn’t?” Celine laughed, throwing a jelly bean at him. “Every girl fancies him. He’s fit!”

Every girl? You swallowed the saliva that was rising in your throat. You hated this feeling, this abnormal anger in your abdomen that swirled around and wanted so hard to be let free. You didn’t know what to do, you ground your nails into your palm, giving your friends a fake smile as you tried to calm the storm in your gut.

Everyone was asleep when you were in your bed, staring at the ceiling with tears forming pools in your lower eyelids. You sniffed them away, trying so hard not to let them fall and truthfully you didn’t know why you were crying because no matter what was said tonight, there was no concrete evidence that girls fancied him and probably threw themselves at him. Who wouldn’t? Not every girl was as shy as you. With stupidity and perhaps naivety, you planted your feet on the cold stone floor, the cold hitting your bare legs instantly just before you wrapped your Ravenclaw robe around you. It was curfew and you had never done this before, but you had to see him. You had to know this wasn’t just a normal thing that happened to him. So in the dark of the night, praying he was awake, you stuck to the walls; getting away from Filch and his smelly cat. You approached the DADA classroom, slowly and silently opening the door and peering up to his office which was lighted and your heart peaked. He was awake. You walked up the stairs with your quiet feet. Breathing deep into your belly, you knocked twice on the door. Some movement, not urgent, happened behind the door before it was thrown open. In front of you, Lupin was a tired mess but still incredibly handsome with his tie undone and his shirt untucked from his chinos. His face was one of surprise and shock, yours must’ve been the same.

“Y/N?” He questioned, wiping his eyes. You shifted awkwardly under his tired gaze, he must’ve noticed this because his hand grazed against your wrist, gently guiding you into his office which smelt of pine cones, old books and chocolate. You swallowed the rising emotion as you turned to face him standing by the closed door, you played with the sleeves of your robe. “Y/N, it’s 2AM. What are you doing awake?” You couldn’t control it anymore so the first tear fell. And then the second. And then the third. He finally saw them and instantly engulfed you with his warm arms, you fell into them, snuggling your head into his chest. “What is it? Why are you crying?” One arm wrapped around your middle and the other was curled over your head, his thumb slowly stroking your hairline.

“Does every girl throw themselves at you?” You sniffed, the tears staining his pale green shirt. You never expected it, but he laughed. And he laughed hard. Making your body shake as his belly went in and out.

“What are you talking about?” He kissed the top of your head.

“I saw you with Celine and you looked so happy to be with her.” Suddenly feeling stupid, you pulled away.

“Y/N.” He sighed. “Are you jealous?” You hadn’t thought about that. You knew these feelings were purely emotional based and not factual in any sense but they still hurt. So you nodded. He chuckled, pulling you in again. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever looked at. I don’t give a shit if people fancy me or want to throw themselves at me. It makes no difference.” He slowly raised your head to meet with his eyes, he brushed away a stray hair.

“Really?” You wiped away all your tears. He smiled, happily, and kissed your forehead with his gentle lips.

“I don’t like seeing you cry.” He kissed your forehead twice before cuddling you into his chest. “You have nothing to worry about Y/N.” He whispered, pushing an index finger under your chin and softly pressing his lips onto yours. Instantly, you melted into his touch. Letting his arms drape around you, your arms reached up and around his neck as you deepened the kiss. Your heart pattering with something you had never felt before, a burning deep within your abdomen. Needing him closer, you pushed your hipbones into him and slowly he moved his lips to your jawline, placing butterfly kisses across to your chin. You giggled, he found a ticklish spot and kept doing it because your laughter created an ooze of affection deep within him. He pulled away, his hair slick with slight sweat.

“It’s you.” He said. “You.” He repeated. “You.” And then he pulled you in again, his lips connecting with yours and connecting to a deep feeling inside of you, one you couldn’t explain as he roamed down the side of your neck. You emitted a very quiet moan, which caused a dark chuckle from him. “You.” He whispered, his breath close to your ear. You threw your arms around him so forcefully your feet were airborne, but he caught you by your waist and your legs were now around his midriff. You threw your long hair to one side and kissed him with a strong surge of confidence that had him clearing his desk of everything it had on it - important or not.

~

With a start, you woke up breathless in a bedroom you had never seen before. You looked around, a light brown wallpaper with small patterns that looked as simple as dots; a double bed with clean white sheets, comfy as anything; a dark chocolate wardrobe, slightly ajar and a closed bedroom door. With the smell of the night before, you looked to your right to see a curled up lump next to you, slowly moving up and down. Your heart caught in your throat and suddenly the memories of last night swam into your mind; the clearing of the desk, shit all over the floor; a knocked over desk chair, still on its back you supposed; sheets tangled around your legs, curling around you and Lupin, smiling over your body and taking you in with the utmost care and affection. He treated you like a goddess, a magnificent creature and you couldn’t believe you bagged someone so gentle, in so many ways.

Beside you, Lupin stirred, waking up and rubbing his eyes before reaching towards you. His arms were still just as strong as last night and every time he cuddled you. He kissed the nape of your neck.

“Morning.” He said, his voice significantly deeper. Whilst you wanted to stay here, Celine would be wondering why you weren’t in your bed and quickly you had to come up with an excuse that was, at least, a little bit believable.

“I need to go.” You said abruptly, but before you could move, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in.

“It’s the weekend, baby. You can stay here.” He kissed your shoulder gently and you sank straight into him, his strong frame and the comfort it brought you.

“Are you sure?” You asked as he pulled you into his side, your hand resting on his shoulder, your head in the space between his neck and head.

“More than sure.” He kissed your forehead softly and both of you sank into eternal bliss.

[oreithyia0]

ON THE FLOOR WRITHING AROUND AND FOAMING

THE WRITING, THE GENUINE AWKWARD BOY MOMENTS, IM IN LOVE!!!

Words cannot describe how much I love this story and the writing, none of it felt out of character for Remus and the angst was the cherry on top!!! Was giggling and kicking my feet at the end and my heart genuinely clenched at our poor boy's depressive thoughts(an understatement)

Definitely a great read and something that thoroughly entertained me!

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started. 

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean? 

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

[oreithyia0]

THIS A THOUSAND TIMES OVER HELLOOOOO SAILOR

Quick fem!logan headcanons because i love women

The butchest butch to ever butch. Will build everything and everything for you, you’ll never have to enter a furniture store ever again.

HAIRY. Big arms lined with fur and big sideburns that tickle your face every time she leans in for a kiss. Likes to rub her face against your stomach because she knows it makes you giggle.

Happy trail.

Loves to show you off, buys you pretty dresses and walks around hand in hand as if to say “look at my girl, ain’t she pretty? Seriously, LOOK AT HER.”

Biggest wife girl the worlds ever seen.

Has absolutely zero patience for guys trying to hit on you. Will snatch you away and stand between you two, begging to give her an excuse to knock him on his ass.

Being a munch is built into Logan’s genetic code I fear. She could actually spend an entire day lapping at your cunt if you didn’t start to kick her off after the third orgasm.

Likes to pin you beneath her, pussy to pussy and watch as you writhe and squirm for more. Gives her a rush to see how badly you want her, makes her grin when she feels your wetness gliding across her clit.

IMMACULATE STRAP GAME

Is more of a cuddler than male Logan, but still refuses to admit it.

She actually purrs. No seriously, she purrs.

Might have a slight pet play fetish

[oreithyia0]

Love how you wrote him!! Would love to see more of this

Helping Hand | Credence Barebone x Reader

RATING: Teen | GENRE: Hurt/Comfort | 1,808 words SUMMARY: You offer to help Credence from his situation. [Read on AO3]

The first time you saw the almost painfully pitiful young man named Credence Barebone, it was like looking in a mirror of your past self. You saw it in his downcast eyes and bowed head. You saw it in his frown-marred lips and hunched shoulders. You were once the same as he was. Perhaps the circumstances weren’t exactly the same, but you knew that he was a victim, similar to how you are now a survivor.

Fortunately, you had people who cared about you and managed to help you with your situation, and when you saw that poor young man all meek and vulnerable, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn a blind eye. Even if you didn’t know him personally, you believed that nobody deserved that kind of ill treatment, whatever it was. You couldn’t say for certain what the young man was going through, but you did know that he was in pain. And so, you approached him.

Keep reading

[oreithyia0]

_𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞_

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ As a young woman of noble blood, society is a golden cage. There is no mention of you unless the subject is marriage or manners while your trip to Port Royal has become a rescue maneuver. One faithful night aboard the Dauntless you finally snap. And meet the captive Captain Jack Sparrow...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+ language, old society rules, emotional chaos, very light angst ‣ 3,4k words

Your dress weighed heavy on your shoulders, the corset strangled your lungs to a delicate point where you began to feel dizzy.

Silver cutlery laid untouched next to your empty plate. The hunger had long passed. 

Either way was it impossible to properly eat with this torture device crushing your ribs. You would fetch a banana later.

“Miss Sheffield“ Lord Somerset hardly drew your attention while he adjusted his white wig “I find myself greatly invested in the many stories of your brother. They're indeed impressive, are they not?“.

It took nerves to hinder your eyes from rolling.

Instead, you gave him an appreciative but short nod. There was bitter sarcasm within the subtlety of your gesture.

Another man's head, adorned with a teal hat with feathers, turned towards you. Father.

“They are, clearly“. You verbally lend weight to your faux-assent as your father's stern gaze fixed on your face.

You suspected him pleased now.

However, his interest in you promptly vanished and a song of praise of someone else continued to fall from his pale lips.

Sweet, boisterous praise for your great brother, of course. 

You were sick of it but with time had begun to see it as an opportunity to reign over your own life as freely as possible.

For as long as possible.

Every eye and word was on your brother while you, the sister of the new Governor of Nassau and member of the Privy Council, were neigh invisible.

And still you could never leave the shiny prison that was the English noble society. Like living in a nightmare that had occasional sunlight in it but was full of madness anyway.

As the men's triumphant laughter echoed across the room, you pictured how Davy Jones' Locker would be a better place to bide your time.

Or maybe you should run away and live a seamstress' life. Alternatively, a barmaid.

In the corner of your vision you saw Norrington slightly leaning over to you. The new Commodore stationed in Port Royal, as he was.

“You look fabulous tonight, Miss“ he cooed, voice low.

His blue gaze rested on the glittering necklace you wore. A collective of silver, sapphires and pearls Lord Somerset had gifted you upon boarding the Dauntless.

Or perhaps Norrington's gaze laid on your cleavage but if so, he concealed it well.

He had to. Hell would come upon him.

You flashed him a polite smile and a demure “Thank you, Commodore“ before your eyes wandered off to the sea that was painted in the colors of a tropical sunset.

The windows were small but still incapable to diminish the glimmer. It went straight to your heart...

“Since you are a young woman, too-“ the man continued, hoisting a chalice to his lips. Beneath the table, your hand balled in a fist.

It did little to soothe your nerves, though.

“-I wondered whether you would think Elizabeth liked such jewelry as, um, a wedding gift?“ his smooth voice asked but the hesitant tone betrayed him.

You had long seen it in his eyes that Norrington's desires to marry Swann's daughter weren't as honest as he tried to make it seem.

Just as Elizabeth struggled to let go of the young blacksmith Will Turner she was currently trying to rescue.

Just fellow souls lost in this noble dilemma, you almost chuckled to yourself.

Luckily, you were quick enough to bridle any inner jests and looked back in Norrington's eyes.

“I’m most certain she would be delighted. However, it occurred to me that Miss Swann prefers silver to gold.“ you advised him before he got dragged back into a naval discussion with the men. 

Not even thanks were left for your input.

Once again your brother's name was thrown around like a cricket ball. 

The urge to just leave this charade of a dinner grew stronger while darkness began to fall upon the majestic Dauntless.

Candle light reflected in the men’s white and grey wigs like it would in the feathers of doltish pigeons.

Nearly scoffing, the focus of your eyes blurred.

Thoughts wandered off to the small bits of information you had grasped throughout the last two days; a business trip to Port Royal had turned into quite an amusing rescue maneuver as Norrington spotted the smoke signal Elizabeth was sending from a lonely island. 

She was brought onto the ship along with a mysterious pirate who turned out to be none other than the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow.

Lord, he seemed so different to the men you were used to. So interesting…

“Yn, the Lord's question was, would you be his companion on a visit to your brother?“ The raspy voice of your father suddenly cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife. 

You cleared your throat, hiding a muttered “god, no“ along the cough.

No, you simply couldn’t do this any longer tonight.

Tomorrow morning the misery would begin anew and the nights were too short anyway.

Dinner was over for you, you decided and shot up, heading towards the door. 

“Young Miss, where do you think you are going?“ your father called across the room, causing you to spin and face him along with everyone else seated on the grand table.

An unreadable expression settled on your face, lips moving on behalf of your temper. 

“Father, I do believe you won’t miss me much while conversing solely about my brother“. 

Norrington let out a shaky breath, his head turning to expect your father’s answer. Obviously, he was used to Elizabeth's docile manners.

The grey wig beneath Lord Sheffield's hat shifted slightly as he cocked his head.

He looked ridiculous. 

“Then go, yn. I do not have the time nor the patience for your behavior right now“ he sighed, waving his hand in an enervated gesture of dismissal “Check on Miss Swann when you pass by“.

The stingy sensation of the corset fighting your big breaths vexed you, along with your father's aloof attitude.

Nevertheless, he granted you exactly what you wanted; to leave and mind your own business.

A business that had preferably sparsely to do with these men.

“Thank you, sir. I will“ you curled your lips, forcing a hasty smile before your knees bent in a curtsy. “Lord Somerset, thank you again for the generous gift. Commodore“.

The Lord stood up with his chest puffed, trying to address you. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield. I wish you a good-“  

But the rest of his irrelevant set-phrase was cut off by the door closing behind your back. It snapped shut with a soft rock of the Dauntless.

As if she felt sorry for you.

Taking a big breath of the fresh sea breeze your tongue finally spoke some truth. “Damn you, Somerset“.

It felt good, even if it did little to improve your situation.

You knew you had to get away from the cabins or else your words of pent-up frustration would eventually find them.

Maybe you would find solace on the quarterdeck instead?

As you marched up the stairs with a grimace on your face from how impractical the heavy dress was, a young maid brushed past you with filled wineglasses on a silver tray. 

She smiled with respect, but could barely hide her excited look at the luxurious necklace.

Her soft lips parted when she spoke up in awe “If I may, Baron Somerset really is doting upon you, Miss“.

At her comment, the matching earrings with the similarly cut sapphires began to itch.

“So it seems“ you answered flatly, still trying your best not to let it all out on the innocent girl. 

“I happen to have overheard him talking about how beautiful your children would be“ she added with enthusiasm, unaware of your aversion to said nobleman.

You felt your gut twist and tighten at the vision alone. 

Children with this man? No.

On the brink of screaming or crying, your hand flew up to grab one of the glasses.

“Did he now?“ You hoisted it and bathed your upper lip in the sweet taste of Portuguese wine “Golden me“. 

Hearing her colleague call for her, the maid quickly curtsied and made her way down to the main cabin.

You sighed heavily, taking another sip.

Up on the spacious quarterdeck you wasted no time, set the glass down on a random barrel and began to take off your earrings. 

They were burning on your skin now.

Anger, chagrin and despair rioted in your veins like a hurricane.

So untamed, you didn’t even notice the man at the helm observing your actions through curious eyes.

“To hell-“ you shouted, kicking your right foot so that your shoe flew overboard in a wide arc “with you, father“ the other shoe followed suit.

“And Somerset“ you tossed one earring into the black sea, holding the other one while you unhooked the expensive necklace.

You didn’t hesitate a second to proceed with this macabre yet somehow weirdly freeing act of rebellion.

With your right arm outstretched, jewelry in your hands, you stood at the ship’s railing, wind in your face.

“And to the depths with this society of hypocrites and it's stupid rules“ your now hoarse voice exclaimed bitterly before your tossing arm got stopped mid way. 

What?

Twisting on your stocking feet, you ended up only inches away from Jack Sparrow’s face who was grinning at you with a pleased sparkle in his dark eyes.

You didn't dare to breathe, mouth agape.

He was still holding onto your arm even though you had lowered it in a mixture of shock and awe.

“Not good. Ye wouldn't wanna be doin' that, lassie“ the pirate purred, gold teeth adding to the captivating shine of his eyes.

Since the Navy took him prisoner, you had never spoken to him. Only eves-dropped when he had persuaded Norrington as if it was easy.

And now you could feel his breath fan across your face, the scent of the sea and rum intoxicating your brain.

Slowly, he unwrapped and lifted his fingers off your arm. One by one like a fan.

“Why not? You cannot stop me“ you eventually found your courage again and yanked your arm away. 

The man scrunched his brows, lips closing. The many trinkets in his dreadlocks clinked as Sparrow cocked his head.

Your eyes were slaves to his eccentric mimic for a little while before you finally got to step back.

His presence somehow calmed you down, brought your nerves to a halt. All the way to the point where you remembered your manners.

“My apologies, Mister Sparrow. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize for the snappy behavior but he interjected with a finger pointing at you.

“Never be sorry for disobeying rules that aren't worth following, luv“.

Irritated by the unexpectedly wise words, you found yourself at a loss for an answer.

This man was a real pirate after all. The closest thing to an anarchical life there was. 

Your heart pumped awe through your veins that began to pacify the storm within. 

Features dropping from trained, polite distance to honest distress, your gaze darted down to the jewelry in your hand. It was worth at least as much as your entire collection of summer gowns. 

The blue stones seemed somewhat black tonight.

As grim as your future. With Somerset. Or any other noble, dim-witted aristocrat. 

The pirate just stood and watched the tragic poem being written all over your beautiful face. His silence allowed the gears in your mind to shift.

Then, you seemed put.

“What even are you doing at the helm, Sparrow?“ You asked to avoid any potential questions when you mindlessly chucked the bundle of jewelry to him.

He grinned again as an audible clink and clatter signaled you that he had caught it.

You were sure that Sparrow had a better use for it than you did. Whatever it may be.

Admittedly, you would have just thrown it overboard or locked it away in a random jewel casket for eternity.

A husky gravel met your ears when he cleared his throat after sinking the necklace deep into the inside pocket of his brown jacket.

It was as if he knew you didn't have any expectation of thanks or desire for inquiring about your deed.

“Isla de la Muerta can only be found by those who already know where it is-“.

Slow steps of heavy boots on wooden tiles neared you from your left.

“And rumors have it me, meself and I have a heading Norrington doesn’t, savvy?“ Sparrow slurred, snapping open a compass as he leaned his back against the railing next to you.

With your eyes raking over the dusk ocean, you couldn’t help but risk a peak over to his hands.

You grimaced. The compass obviously didn’t point north.

Was he tricking the Commodore?

Suddenly, Jack chuckled, clearly having seen your expression.

“Nah... tale for another night“ he simply stated closing the small, brown box again.

His intense gaze crawled all over your side profile and pinned updo. “Tell me somethin’ about ye, Missy. Plagued by those wig-suckers, eh?“ 

You gave a snort of laughter, enjoying his unfiltered way of addressing the men you were used to calling 'Lord', 'Governor' or 'Commodore'.

“You know exactly who I am. Do not call me Missy“ you snapped, biting down a playful smile no one had ever elicited as easily as the foreign pirate did.

Perhaps it should worry you but it didn’t in the slightest. 

Jack arched his figure to lean back more and study your edged expression from the front. You tried to shoot him an unfazed look but the pirate saw right through it and smiled widely. 

How he could read you so emphatically was far beyond what you were used to from men. It confused you. 

Just as it puzzled Jack that your behaviour was so devoid of any of the hospitality and judgement he had come to expect from your class.

It only drew the both of you deeper into whatever this conversation would become.

“Apologies, me bad. Miss Sheffield“ his deep voice cooed, finally cracking your surface and putting a soft blush on your cheeks.

“It never occurred to me that Pirates can be this charming“ you snickered with a hint of irony, eyes resting on Sparrow’s unique features for a moment.

His tanned skin was reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps. Sparrow was a handsome man, you realized.

Effortlessly and in tune with the ship's rocking, the man pushed off the railing to trail behind you.

“I always expected Pirates to be more- rogue, I suppose“ you mused, more to yourself.

Sparrow tsk'ed but he didn't seem hurt.

Your head cocked when you felt his hot breath close to the nape of your neck.

“A Shilling that I can alter your outlook on Pirates all by me onesies, eh?“ His comment was nonchalant and smug but in a swinging way.

This man had nerves. 

“Didn't I just give you a collier worth far more than one Shilling?“ you asked rhetorically, amplifying the perky tone.

The pirate hummed, as if contemplating. “Alright, then. Consider your debt paid“.

It was utterly refreshing to converse so freely without any rules or boundaries. You grew fond of it with every passing second. 

When Sparrow didn’t re-appear on your other side, you turned around to spot him chugging down the wine you had abandoned in your rage.

“Sorry, it’s no rum but-“

“-good. That’s good“ he complimented the red liquid, analyzing the ornate chalice through narrowed eyes before he sat it back down.

Carefully, with his pinky stretched out with decorum.

You caught yourself giggling but promptly covered your mouth with a palm. Habits. 

“So, Miss Sheffield...“ the pirate urged you, swaggering closer until he stood by your side again. His elbows were quickly propped on the reddish railing.

“Pray tell“.

You sighed. However, the will to empty your heart was unbreakable. 

It was easier when your gaze found shelter in the darkness of the Caribbean night but Sparrow’s stare lingered on you nonetheless. 

“I- I feel like- No, I am trapped. Trapped in a golden cage with only dull bumbles who want to possess women of standing as if they were accessories for their prevalence-striven plans“ you began to complain, your words gaining speed and intensity throughout the sentence. 

Honest pity flashed behind the pirate's charcoal outlined eyes.

The man had never thought he was capable of pitying those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

And still, there he stood, stricken by the pain in your melodic voice.

You gasped for air, your mind wanting to go on but your throat began to burn on the verge of crying.

“I must behave according to the rules of society, no matter what it is I truly desire. All the poisoned praise goes to my brother while I am only of importance when the subject of my marriage is discussed“.

“Ye brother be the new Governor of Nassau?“ Sparrow eventually asked, his gaze sliding down to where your nails were nervously scratching lines into the wooden railing.

You couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance of his title. “Yes, that be him“. 

The man next to you shrugged his shoulders, the trinkets and charms once again clinking. You would love to find out where he got each of them from.

“I could, in fact, sack Nassau port for ye as soon as I rip me Pearl from Barbossa’s slimy, old hands“ a tad of disgust infused his bold words at the foreign name.

“Jus' a humble offer. What ye say, lassie?“. 

Sparrow was trying to cheer you up.

A small smile began to reign over your lips again, toes curling. “That would only get you killed, fierce pirate“ you noted, trying to sound as judicious and rational as possible.

Instead, he grinned even broader and spread his arms in an eccentric, self-presenting pose. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, luv“ he declared as if it was self-explanatory.

For the first time in a while the sea breeze caught and carried your sincere laughter.

Sparrow’s braided goatee twitched as he found himself biting his lip at the pretty sound and look.

You were a stunning woman in noble clothes with noble blood in your veins but with a spirit as wild and ravenous as his own.

You enthralled him.

“Bring this to my daughter. She shall eat, at least. The Commodore risks too much by rescuing young Turner, he cannot afford to see his fiancé unwell“ Governor Swann’s order suddenly boomed across the main deck, followed by hasty steps of a maid.

Instinctively, Sparrow snaked his hand around your shoulder, across your chest and pulled you back with him.

Out of sight.

His rough hand on your mouth muffled a shrill cry just enough. 

“They thinkin’ yer asleep, eh, Miss Sheffield?“ His voice was lowered, almost just a husk and yet it was filled with this mischievous, flirtatious tone.

God, this man sent shivers down your spine like no other. 

But he was still a lawless pirate.

A prisoner, even.

Suddenly, whyever, the gravity of your situation and the futility of tonight's zeal made you feel how cold and wet the floor was without shoes.

Brown dreadlocks pressed against the back of your head irrevocably disheveled your updo. 

“Asleep, as I should be...“ you muttered, infused with a hint of re-surfacing anger and despair.

You wriggled yourself out of his protective grasp. The pirate's brow was raised, eyes narrowed on your face.

There was a haze of danger and waywardness about Jack Sparrow that made you question your own courage and spirit. 

“Why did I even tell you all that in the first place?“ you exclaimed, hands thrown up. Slowly stepping away from him, you felt all the emotions crushing your mind.

“You most likely do not care, neither do I profit by wailing. It doesn’t bear contemplating...“.

Sparrow wrapped his right hand back around the handle of the helm, looking rather unfazed by the confusion that was spreading in your system like the Portuguese wine in his own. 

Heavy silence and the occasional laughter from the men in the Captain’s cabin mingled with the soft splash of sea water. 

Your feelings were now as erratic as the rhythm of the crashing waves.

“Look 'ere, luv“.

Your gaze was just about to turn from pleading to the usual bored emptiness as you saw his free hand wander down to his leather belt.

A smirk adorned his bearded face when skilled fingers rapidly detached the compass and threw it over to you.

Stumbling slightly as the ship rocked, you caught the brown box before it could hit the ground.

You heard Sparrow mutter a muted “Thank god“ that made you want to snap at him but the gesture was too interesting not to query.

Why would he think you needed a compass?

Fluster painted your features when you met his weirdly satisfied expression.

“Aren’t you Captain Jack Sparrow? Don’t you need a compass for... that?“ You asked with less challenge in your tone than initially planned.

He chuckled beautifully, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“What?“ You probed when his dark gaze began to rise up from the floor, along your figure.

“I may be without me compass but not without heading and a plan“ the pirate finally explained, taking another step closer to the helm “You, contrastingly and tragically, lack both“. 

Your arms came up and crossed defensively in front of your chest.

But his words and the tight corset made you drop them again rather quickly. 

He was right. You had been lamenting about your situation barely three minutes ago.

“So? What exactly is your compass going to change about that, Sparrow?“.

You peered down at the inconspicuous looking box.

“Everythin'.“ Sparrow stated with a touch of mystery. “Listen what ye heart wants and the compass is gonna give ye a heading, savvy?“.

A big part of you wanted to believe what this infuriatingly interesting man promised while another voice was whispering to you how it was literal magic he was implying.

Magic. 

With a hesitant gesture of offering it back to him, you hoped to find out which voice to listen to.

“But you would want it back, right? It is yours after all“ you commented your action with genuine concern and a small smile.

Plus, the fear that Norrington would kill Jack if he couldn’t find the Isla without his compass. 

Captured by the pirate for one last time, you watched his gold teeth flash in a wide grin, his tattooed hand spreading on his chest as a sign of integrity.

He was being honest, you felt it.

“I will be gettin’ it back, luv. Don't ye worry“. 

Before you creeped down the stairs and eventually headed for your cabin to ponder on your heart's desires, the last you saw of Captain Jack Sparrow was a charming wink. 

The last for now, at least.

♡ thank you so much for reading my very first POTC fic ever ♡

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐨

@mochie85 @holdmytesseract @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus

[oreithyia0]

Hi Hi! Wondering if you're able to make coffee/cafe themed dividers? Thank you, I appreciate your work and dividers! ❤️

here you go!

please like/reblog if you use! credit is appreciated! tip jar requests: open

[oreithyia0]

If you haven't already, would you be willing to do some pastel cafe themed dividers? <3

☕️Pastel Cafe Dividers☕️

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

[oreithyia0]

this a thousand times over

the pure dissapointment and sadness i felt when i realized , even tho its been years, tumblr still dont have enough fanfictions for captain jack sparrow like damnm yall aint simping hard for him?? :( (and also gellert grindewald LIKE YOOO. )

[oreithyia0]

SOFT ART IS DELICIOUS OMG, the color palette and everything is just MWAH

Found my new favorite brushes- THEY MAKE EVERYTHING LOOK SO SOFT💕💕💕💕

Originally this was just a sketch but then I lost track of time and suddenly I was 4 hours into shading this-

[oreithyia0]

I GENUINELY HAD TO CONSIDER IF THIS WAS A PHOTO OR NOT WHAT!!!! YOUR ART IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

I am sorry for your pain

[oreithyia0]

I second this

i need butch wolverine like the air in my lungs, like the ground beneath my feet!!! i need butch wolverine!!! i need her tits in my mouth!!!

[oreithyia0]

The writing... THE WRITING!! It's so good that i don't even know how to describe it, the blend of angst fluff and then smut. Best read I've had in a while

𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦 - 𝘮.

⤷ summary:“You’re blue, I’m red, I wanna kiss your neck and make you purple all over.”

ꕥ word count: 33.7k ꕥ pairing: credence barebone | fem!reader  ꕥ genre: fluff, angst, smut ꕥ rating: 18+ ꕥ warnings: mentions of physical and religious abuse, mild violence and angst ꕥ kinks: femdom, masturbation ꕥ author’s note:  Credence’s first time requested by anonymous. Experimenting a new writing style with this one, I hope you still like it! This is very soft, but also sinful. I always suggest using Interactive Fics extension on Google Chrome and Firefox when reading my fics. Enjoy. ;) ꕥ key: (y/n) - first name (l/n) - last name (e/c) - eye color (h/c) - hair color (s/c) - skin color

There are very few moments in life worth living for. Most things in life are mundane and repetitive. Humans aren’t as complex as they like to think. Humans are simple. Without realizing, it they put themselves into a routine. Eat, work, sleep, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat. Eat, sleep, work, repeat.

Albert Einstein once said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” And yet, most humans never fall into insanity. How is it humanity survives such a dreary existence? The answer itself is simple. It is because despite living simple, tedious, monotonous lives, they still have those few moments.

Keep reading

[oreithyia0]

Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining