#Remus lupin x Reader

[luveline]

hi miss lovely jade <3 can i be an absolute nuisance and request shy!reader who is to afraid to ask for cuddles from either remus or sirius? you can choose if this is a request that floats your boat! either way thank you for your wonderful writing <3

Remus lays on his side on the sofa. His arms are too heavy to keep reading, one numb under his body, the other not long enough to touch your back. 

“I’m too tired to read,” he tells you. 

“I could read to you.” 

Remus shuffles to the edge of the sofa, fingertips rolling down your arm. “Too tired to listen.” 

You fluster with your cheek to your shoulder, distracted from your own book completely. He hadn’t meant to drag you away, but he had. He’s selfish occasionally. 

Upstairs, James and Lily watch a movie, the soundtrack loud and echoing through the ceiling. Remus searches for the remote for the living room TV thinking that perhaps he can get you to recreate their evening. They spend almost every night cuddling, Remus has seen it enough times to guess that that’s what they’re doing now. 

You don’t cuddle much, but Remus has a theory that you want to. You get a little cagey, like, you’re so shy that being caught wanting it will embarrass you. You get cagey all the time. If you’re hungry, you can’t bear to mention dinner. If you want to hold his hand, you look anywhere but his fingers. And when you want to hug him, lay against his chest with his lips and nose turned against your cheek, you sit at the coffee table and curl away. 

He knows you adore him, you tell him often even with your timidity. You’re sweet like that, willing to beget a nervous sweat if it means Remus feels loved. 

But how can he convince you into his arms? 

“Baby,” he murmurs, wondering if that’s a pet name you won’t like. 

You turn to him slowly. “Yeah?” 

“Let’s buy a movie on the box office.” Remus pulls his hand back, catches your eyes where they follow longingly. “There’s loads of new ones on there.” 

“Okay, yeah. I’ll pay for it.” 

“No, I’ll pay for it, don’t be silly. Just come up here and pick one.” 

You hesitate. “Is there room?” 

Remus rolls far back into the sofa. “Right here.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He doesn’t say Am I sure? Because of course he is, but his incredulity doesn’t help anyone. You’re asking for a reason. 

“Yeah, there’s room. I’ll just have to curl my arm under you to make sure I don’t accidentally push you back off,” he says. “But that’s better for me, we can cwtch.” 

You give a small smile. “Cwtch,” you echo, murmuring as you climb onto the sofa. He leans back, letting out a contented groan as you settle against him, and he pulls you in. 

Here, Remus could affirm to you that cuddles are meant to be given and often, could say, Was that so hard to do? but he doesn’t find much pleasure in invalidating you. It is hard for you. He just has to show you that he can read you. He trusts in time you’ll learn to ask for what you want. 

“Alright?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” Your smile is audible. “Perfect.” 

“Okay, good. Here, lovely, have the remote.”

[ellecdc]

hello!! its me again😜, I've had this hyperfixation on poly!maraudersx reader x lily trope . I was wondering you can make an ff of like the reader is in another house and is a quidditch player, and theres a match between gryffindor and her perspective house and she feels really anxious because if her house won she would let them down and if gryffindor won she would feel guilty ro celebrate with them. 🩷🩷

this was a very cute idea!! thank you for the prompt <3

poly!marauders + Lily x fem!reader who plays for Hufflepuff [1.2k words]

CW: reader is in Hufflepuff, no house rivalry between our lovers

This game had been causing you more anxiety than you cared to admit.

Somehow, this far into your relationship with the Gryffindor’s, you haven’t had to play against the Gryffindor house since the season started, which seemed very odd considering they were one of only three teams that you could play.

But alas, you had managed to avoid the awkwardness of not only cheering against your partners’ team, but actually playing against two of them for a blissful stretch of time. 

Your luck had run out, however, and you could avoid it no longer as the Hufflepuff keeper. 

You found yourself in a tough position; if Hufflepuff lost, you’d feel horribly traitorous to be celebrating the Gryffindor team, but you couldn’t not celebrate when two of your boyfriend’s played for the team. However, if Hufflepuff won, you’d feel terribly guilty celebrating, feeling as though you were rubbing your victory in their faces. 

Either way, you were bound to lose.

So when Hufflepuff won, your feet had barely touched the ground before you were leaping from your broom and racing off the pitch, bypassing the showers at the quidditch pitch and fleeing to your dormitory, quickly showering and changing and making it to the kitchens before the no doubt raucous after-party could begin in the Hufflepuff common room.

This was better, you decided. This way you wouldn’t be rubbing your win in your partners’ faces; Remus and Lily wouldn’t have to worry about hurting Sirius and James’ feelings, and Sirius and James wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy for your sake. 

“Should Miss not be in her dormitory to celebrate?” Feenky asked as you watched her prepare a batch of pumpkin juice. 

“It’s just a party of one tonight, Feenky.” You reassured her. If she seemed unconvinced, she didn’t mention it.

“Well, Feenky thinks that Feenky has something for an athlete such as yourself around here somewhere.” She mumbled mostly to herself as she abandoned her task to search for something in some sort of storage closet. 

“There you are, angel!” You heard James shout, startling you so badly that you flinched almost violently and sent a mug of pumpkin juice toppling off of the kitchen island that you were leaning against.

With a lazy flick of her wand (and a haughty smirk), Lily quickly righted your cup and set it gently back down on the island before it could make contact with the ground. 

You grimaced as you turned to face your four partners, ready to be scolded for running off the pitch without saying hello to anyone, for winning the game, or for hiding, you weren’t sure. But you found your mouth falling open in shock as you turned to see your four Gryffindor’s completely decked out in Hufflepuff colours. 

“Wha-” You started, but quickly had the air knocked out of you when Sirius pulled you into him and spun you around.

“You were fucking fantastic!” He exclaimed as he put you back down onto your feet, hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath before he was pulling you in for a searing kiss.

It was only when you finally pulled away from Sirius (only to be pulled backwards into James’ front) did you notice that his hair was still wet from his own post-game shower.

“What are you guys doing down here?” You managed finally.

“We rushed after the game to come down for your after-party!” James responded for you, pressing a kiss to your jaw before relinquishing his hold on you when Lily came in for her own. 

“You really did look phenomenal out there, darling.” She murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I wasn’t surprised, though. If anyone can give these two a well earned run for their money, it’s you.” 

“Thank Merlin.” Remus muttered with a fond eye roll, ignoring one indignant ‘oi!’ from James and one ‘we duel at dawn, Moony’ from Sirius as he leaned over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so proud of you.” He continued earnestly.

“You guys aren’t upset?” You asked, hating how small you sounded. Hating even more the way the four of them nearly recoiled in surprise before sharing confused glances with one another.

“Upset?” Sirius repeated bemusedly. “Why on earth would we be upset?” 

You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant as your face heated up nearly painfully in embarrassment. “Well…I-”

“Angel,” James cooed as he placed a hand on each of your upper arms and forced you to look at him, “did you think we were going to be upset that you beat us?”

“Well-” You attempted to explain, but Lily interjected.

“Can you blame the poor girl? You two are not gracious losers in the slightest.” She taunted, squealing when Sirius jabbed his fingers into her sides and tickled her in punishment for ‘the absolute slander you ridiculous, beautiful witch’.

“Nah.” James offered casually. “I’m happy to lose to our girl any day. Everyone else better watch their backs, though.”

“You guys are insane.” You sighed not unhappily, leaning back into James’ embrace as he nestled his face into the juncture of your neck.

“Is that why you’re hiding in here, dove? You weren’t going to celebrate at all?” Remus asked you softly, and Lily and Sirius both paused in their banter in order to tune back into the conversation. 

“It felt sort of…rude…” You admitted shyly, and Remus’ fond ‘awe’ and Lily’s saccharine ‘our sweet girl’ did nothing to tame the fire now roaring beneath your cheeks as James tightened his embrace around your middle and spun you around.

“Well now we’re just going to celebrate you that much harder! Our sweet little puffle.” He nearly sang as he placed you back onto your feet, Sirius arching his brow and gesturing to himself. 

“You haven't commented on how good we look, dollface.”

You weren’t even sure where they all got Hufflepuff jumpers, cardigans, and scarves from, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask when they looked so sodding cute.

“I think I look smashing in yellow.” Sirius continued simply, nodding at his own decree as he looked to the rest of you for agreement. 

“Honestly? I think it might be Rem’s new colour.” Lily stated earnestly, and the four of you got to watch Remus blush furiously as you all fussed over how well he wore the colour yellow. 

“Alright, alright. Enough chit chat.” Remus demanded; both an attempt to redirect the conversation from himself and an attempt to leave the kitchens. “We have a party to attend and a Hufflepuff to celebrate.” 

You accepted his extended hand and he pulled it up to his lips for a kiss before the five of you made your way out of the kitchens and followed the sounds of the thrumming bass pulsing from your common room.

[thatboisus]

reading a good ass fanfic up until it said something that just makes you want to stop reading

[hauntedwitch04]

Kinktober 2024

Phone sex w. Sam Winchester

Omegaverse w. Rhysand

Tit-fucking w. Remus Lupin

Face sitting w. Dean Winchester

Praise kink w. Regulus Black

Daddy kink w. Helion

Corruption w. Dean Winchester

Hate fuck w. Azriel

Breeding kink w. Eris

Dirty talk w. Sirius Black

Spanking w. Dean Winchester

Car Sex w. Castiel

Threesome w. Sam and Dean Winchester

Foursome w. Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand

Bondage w. James Potter

Brat taming w. Sirius Black

Cockwarming w. Sam Winchester

Body worship w. Cassian

Size kink w. Azriel

Thigh riding w. Remus Lupin

Somnophilia w. Dean Winchester

Sex pollen w. Regulus Black

Public sex w. Rhysand

Orgasm denial w. Eris

Caught masturbation w. James Potter

Innocent w. Sirius Black

Toys w. Sam Winchester

Mommy kink w. Nesta Acheron and Charlie Bradbury

Lingerie w. Cassian

Overstimulation w. Azriel

BONUS DAY:

Free use w. Inner Circle

2. Free use w. Supernatural

3. Free use w. Maraurders

TAGLIST

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE!!! HAPPY 7k 🩷🩷

can i please do a blueberry muffin from your bake sale??? I always wanted a part two to your drabble for the emt!marauders with a reader who gets vertigo. I still for the comfort of how it'll be the car ride to the hospital with the boys comforting the reader just like int he first part. the drabble ended too soon 🫶🏻

nevertheless, you totally degree this milestone!!!

Thank you lovely!

part 1

cw: severe dizziness, mention of vomiting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 497 words

You’ve decided not to make any more sounds. Your moaning and groaning was only worrying the boys, and if you can’t control anything else you can control that. Still, as slow as Remus tries to make the next turn, you can’t help your soft intake of air. Your head keeps turning long after the car has straightened out. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs in reply to your little gasp. His voice is weighed down with sympathy. 

You’ve figured out that the cold of his hands helps, so he keeps pressing them to your forehead, your temples, your neck. On your other side, James is doing his best to keep you from moving with his arm around your shoulders. You’re holding your neck ramrod straight for the same purpose. You can feel the stitching of the seats where your fingers are pressed harshly to them, though in your vision the car is only a smear of gray interior and a deep blue out the windows. You guess by the color that it must be early morning. 

“I’ve got a bag,” James reminds you. “Let me know if you think you need it, yeah?” 

Your answering hum is wobbly. Sirius moves his hands to your cheeks. 

“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Remus asks. You can picture him looking into the rear view mirror, and you and then at the other boys. You wonder what faces they’re making in silent answer. “Can you see at all?” 

“A little bit,” you lie. 

Sirius makes a soft sound, low in his throat. He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Don’t downplay it for us,” he chides, about ten degrees gentler than his usual admonishments. “We can’t help you as well if we don’t know how bad it is, baby.” 

You press your lips together, hard, clamping them between your teeth, but you’re sure your boyfriends can see the tears you’re holding back regardless. James kisses your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “We can talk about all that when we get there, yeah? You’re alright.” 

A quiet whimper slips out of you, two tears blinking out of your eyes one after the other. 

“You are, angel.” James seems desperate to reassure you. Sirius’ hands move to press over your collarbones, firm and grounding. “You’re okay. We’re gonna make it better, my love.” 

“Once we’re there, we’ll try not to move you around hardly at all, dove, alright?” Remus chimes in. “We’ll get you settled and checked out, and the worst thing that can happen is you end up sitting still and waiting this out. No more driving or walking or anything like that until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay,” you manage to squeak out in reply. 

“Oh, my sweetheart.” James sounds nearly on the brink of tears himself, and you think you feel Sirius reach across you to rub his leg even as they’re both comforting you. 

“I know.” Sirius kisses your temple. “I know, baby. We’ve got you.” 

That, you can believe in.

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Muggle Pills

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: The boys learn what your pills do. Warnings: Mentions of seizures, depression and suicidal thoughts Series Masterlist

You sit cross-legged on the plush carpet of your bedroom floor, a small pile of pill boxes scattered around you. Your fingers move with practiced ease as you sort the pills into their respective compartments in a weekly divider—Monday through Sunday, morning, noon, and night.

It's a routine task, one that offers a strange sense of solace amidst the chaos of everything else. Plus, it saves you from the struggle of prying open blister packs every day.

Around you, the Marauders lounge about as if this were any other lazy afternoon. Sirius flips idly through a Quidditch magazine, his brows furrowing at an article about the latest racing broom. James lies sprawled out across your bed, tossing a Quaffle up and down while he debates strategy. Remus sits quietly in a corner, engrossed in a book, a sliver of sunlight illuminating the dust motes dancing around him. Your room has become their second home, just as comfortable and familiar as their dormitory.

They've grown accustomed to these quiet moments together, each occupied with their own thoughts or interests. And yet today, something shifts. A question hangs in the air, unspoken but palpable.

James is the first to break the silence, his voice cutting through the soft hum of activity. "Y/N?" He pauses, catching himself before the words tumble out unchecked. His gaze flickers over to where you sit, still dividing your medication for the week ahead. "Why... why do you take all those? Like, on top of the potions?"

For a moment, time seems to stretch thin, the seconds elongating as you weigh your answer. They've seen you like this before—pills in hand, water glass nearby—but never asked. Not until now. Something about the directness of the question gives you pause, but then you realize: they deserve to know. Especially now, when lines have blurred and friendships have blossomed into something more intimate, more profound.

"Right," you begin, letting out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Your fingers trace the edge of the first pill box—a small, round tablet that's more crucial to your daily life than any potion or spell could ever be. "This one is for my blood pressure."

James, Sirius and Remus lean in closer, their attention rapt despite the seemingly mundane topic. The significance isn't lost on them; every detail about you feels important now, woven into the fabric of their care.

"It's always been too low," you explain, eyes downcast as if you're sharing some great secret. Perhaps it is, in its own way. An admission of frailty, of the battle you wage within your body each day. "If I don't take this, I get dizzy... faint sometimes."

A flicker of understanding passes across James's face, then Sirius's. They've seen you like that before, pale and unsteady in the corridors during your early years at Hogwarts. At the time, they'd chalked it up to nerves or fatigue—anything but a chronic condition. But now...

"Wait," Sirius says, his voice rough with concern. "Are those fainting spells why you had to go back to the hospital wing so often?"

You nod, a hint of relief washing over you. It's easier than you thought it would be, opening up about this part of your life. Maybe because they listen without judgement, accepting each revelation as another piece of the puzzle that is you.

"Yes. That was before I started taking this," you say, tapping the pill box lightly.

Sirius leans back slightly, processing this new information with a furrowed brow. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Remus beats him to it.

"Do you still feel like you might pass out even with the medication?" His tone is gentle yet probing, respectful of your boundaries but curious all the same.

"Sometimes." You shrug, trying to downplay the gravity of what living with such unpredictability means. "But it's better than before."

Remus nods, storing away this tidbit of knowledge like he does with everything else. He understands, perhaps better than anyone, what it means to navigate the world with a body that doesn't quite cooperate. And while your experiences are vastly different, there's a silent kinship in shared struggle—a bond forged through resilience and endurance.

"Next is this one." Your fingers move to a different compartment, closing around another pill. "It's for my heart rate."

Their brows furrow almost in unison, confusion etching lines across their young faces. You suppose it must be strange for them, hearing about the inner workings of your body when all they've ever known are charms and potions, Quidditch injuries and common colds.

"But isn't that connected to your blood pressure?" James asks, his forehead creased as he tries to make sense of it all.

"In a way, yes," you explain, appreciating his attempt to understand. "But while the first medication helps raise my blood pressure, this one keeps my resting heart rate from getting too high."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," Sirius chimes in, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. Although he's always been more comfortable with banter than serious conversations, there's an earnestness in his expression that speaks volumes about how much he cares.

"It's not something I feel most of the time," you admit, setting the second pill aside. "I don't really notice unless I forget to take it or if I'm especially stressed out. But without it, my heart behaves like I'm running even when I'm sitting still."

You let the implication hang in the air, a testament to the silent battles waged beneath your skin. A hush falls over the room, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the fire. The boys exchange glances, each processing your revelation in their own way. From the corner of your eye, you see James run a hand through his already messy hair, a gesture betraying his unease.

"I remember once," you begin again, your voice barely above a whisper, "I got a concussion in school, no big deal but headed the A&E to be checked out, and I ended up being admitted because my heart rate was over 180 beats per minute and wouldn't come down. They were so alarmed, kept asking me if I felt okay..."

The memory is vivid, etched into your mind with sharp clarity. The steady beep of monitors, the worried faces of doctors—reminders of just how fragile human bodies can be.

"And did you?" Sirius interrupts, his grey eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

"Did I what?"

"Feel okay? Or were you..." He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. It's clear to see why; the notion of such turmoil within you, unbeknownst to them until now, is unsettling to say the least.

"I mean, my head was killing me but otherwise, I felt fine," you state, "but that doesn't mean it's safe to ignore."

There's a pause as they digest your words, the gravity of what you're sharing settling heavy in the silence. Remus shifts slightly beside you, his gaze thoughtful. As ever, he seems to carry an understanding beyond his years—a quiet wisdom born from living in the shadows.

"When we were in the hospital wing together in first and second year—you know, after the full moon and your... episodes," he begins cautiously, mindful of the delicate territory he's treading on. "Was this part of it? Your heart thing?"

You shake your head, offering him a small smile. "While I did have the heart rate as a problem, that's not why I was there."

Remus nods slowly, absorbing this new information. His brow furrows, not in judgement but in concern—a silent question lingering behind his amber eyes. How much more is there to learn?

"Right," you say, moving on to the next pill. It's a small orange capsule and looks innocuous enough, but its role is no less vital than the others. "This one's for my epilepsy."

"Epilepsy?" James blurts out, his eyes widening at the revelation.

The room goes quiet, save for the crackling of the fire in the background. Sirius and James exchange glances, their expressions mirroring the unease that hangs in the air.

You nod, acknowledging his surprise with a wry smile. "It helps prevent seizures. But it's not foolproof. I regularly have atonic seizures still, they only last a few seconds and nothing needs to be done with those. I don't really have big ones anymore, but when I get sick or stressed—or before I got my implant, when I had my period—I can still have them."

"How long have you..." James starts, then clears his throat, struggling to find the right words. "How long have you had epilepsy?"

"Basically my whole life," you answer simply. "But it's mostly managed now. The stress of exams and assignments can trigger the big seizures sometimes, but most people don't notice."

Sirius frowns, running a hand through his hair. "Have you had any since getting with us?"

"I mean, I've had little ones but not any big ones." You reach over to squeeze his hand reassuringly before letting go. "But during last year, I did have several because of the stress of OWLs."

His grip tightens around yours, concern etched into every line of his face. It's strange, seeing Sirius so unguarded, his usual bravado replaced by raw vulnerability. But then again, nothing about this situation is ordinary.

"You never told us," James says quietly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. He's not accusing, merely stating a fact—one that seems unthinkable given how close you all are.

"I didn't want to worry you, you were just my friends then," you admit, looking down at your hands. "Besides, you three were so focused on your own exams. You wouldn't have noticed even if you tried."

There's truth to your words, but they do little to ease the guilt that flashes across James's features, and Sirius remains silent, his grey eyes clouded with thought. Both boys are processing this new information, trying to reconcile the image of you—a force of nature, unbowed despite everything—with the reality of your condition.

Remus, who has been listening silently, finally speaks up. "I remember... those nights in the hospital wing when we were younger. I'd be in there because of the full moon, you'd be there because of a seizure…"

"Or worse," you say, almost to yourself. "To be honest, I was also there because no one trusted that I wouldn't try to kill myself, and no healer or doctor would give an 11-year-old birth control for their PMDD. I got the implant at 14, and the seizures went away with my period, as did the temptation to kill myself."

James blinks, stunned into silence. "I never knew any of this," he says at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

"By the time we became proper friends, I already had the implant. There was no reason to tell you about something that was no longer a problem." You give him a reassuring smile.

James nods slowly, although the concern has not entirely left his eyes. Sirius, too, seems pensive as he stares into the fireplace, blowing out a slow breath. Only Remus appears unchanged, his expression calm and thoughtful, as if the revelations were expected.

"Right," you say, taking a deep breath as you reach for the final pill box, a small white container that holds a different kind of lifeline. "This one's my antidepressant."

The change in atmosphere is almost palpable as James and Sirius stiffen beside you. Remus, ever the stoic observer, merely watches.

"Is that... because of everything else?" asks Sirius tentatively, his grey eyes searching yours for answers. You can tell he's treading carefully now, aware that this conversation has ventured into territory far more delicate than any duel or prank gone wrong.

"Yeah," you reply, letting out a long exhale. "It helps manage the lows, but it's not foolproof. Nothing really is."

James's thumb brushes over the back of your hand, tracing patterns there as if trying to will away the pain etched between your words. He doesn't speak, but his silence carries its own weight, heavy with understanding.

"You're not always..." James starts, then stops, uncertain how to phrase his question without sounding insensitive.

"Depressed?" you finish for him, offering a wry smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Not always, no. But when I am... well, let's just say it's better for everyone involved that I have these."

Your fingers tap against the pill bottle, the sound echoing lightly through the room.

A moment passes before Sirius breaks the silence. "And do they work? The pills, I mean." There's a hopeful note to his voice, laced with a quiet desperation that mirrors the way his eyes never leave your face.

"For the most part," you admit. "But like I said, they're not perfect. They help keep things under control, but they don't make my symptoms go away entirely. And some days are harder than others."

You pause, considering how best to explain what living with depression feels like—the relentless heaviness that often threatens to pull you under despite the medication designed to keep you afloat.

"It's like walking through a storm," you say finally. "Most days, the meds are like a good coat—they keep the worst of the rain off. But sometimes the storm gets too strong, and all the coat can do is stop you from getting completely soaked."

"Merlin," James breathes, running a hand through his hair as he processes your words. "Have you been dealing with all this since..."

"Birth?" you supply, nodding once. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Since you were a baby?" Sirius asks, his voice rough with disbelief. "How long have you been taking all these pills?"

"I was little when I was put on the epilepsy meds," you admit, "but the others were added as new conditions developed."

"And what happens if you forget to take one?" James's tone is gentle, but there's an underlying urgency that betrays his worry. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, missing a dose here and there isn't the end of the world, usually." You shrug, trying to make light of it, though the truth is more complex. "But if I go too long without them... Let's just say it can lead to some serious complications."

Remus watches you, his gaze steady and thoughtful. "It must be exhausting," he says quietly, "keeping track of all this, making sure you're always taking the right thing at the right time. Especially with the potions you use for your pain."

"It's a lot," you agree, not seeing any point in denying it. "But the alternative..." Your voice trails off as you picture yourself without the medication: the pain, the fatigue, the despair. "Let's just say I'm grateful for muggle and wizarding medicine, even if it doesn't fix everything."

The words hang heavy in the air, a quiet echo of your confession ringing in the stillness of the room. The boys sit with straight spines and furrowed brows, each processing what you've just shared in their own way. For a moment, no one speaks, the silence filled only by the crackling fire and the soft patter of rain against the window.

The world of pills and doctors is foreign to them, so far removed from the magical healing they know. They are warriors in their own right, but this is a battle they do not understand, cannot see. It's in the lines that etch deeper into Sirius' forehead, the way his fists clench at his sides—not with anger towards you, but with a burning frustration for an enemy he cannot confront.

"I can't believe we didn't know," James finally breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. It's not an accusation, merely a statement laced with self-reproach. But there's no need for you to respond; the truth of it hangs in the air around you. How could they have known? You've become a master at concealing the extent of your pain, hiding behind masks of normalcy even when your body screamed otherwise.

Sirius shifts slightly, and his voice is quiet when he finally breaks the silence, a note of confusion threading through the words.

"Why didn't you say something before?" It's not an accusation, just a question born from concern and a hint of hurt. Sirius has never liked being left in the dark, especially when it comes to those he cares about.

"I didn't want to worry you," your voice barely rises above a whisper, carrying with it a weight that sinks into the silence of the room. "And knowing doesn't change anything." You glance at them, each face mirroring the gravity of your confession. "It's not like any of you can fix it."

James looks as if he wants to argue, to insist that there must be something they can do. But he remains silent, understanding—for now—the boundaries you've put in place. Relief briefly washes over you, even as you see the frustration flicker in his hazel eyes. James has always been a man of action, someone who leaps forward to shield those he loves from harm. To know there's a wound he can't mend must feel like salt on an open cut.

"I don't need you to fix it," you say gently, guessing his thoughts. "I just need you to understand."

Remus nods, his face softening as he speaks for the first time in a while. "And we do," he says quietly, his voice calm and reassuring. "Or at least, we're starting to."

There's a pause as the four of you absorb this shared understanding, a quiet acknowledgement that hangs in the air like a promise. You can almost feel the shift in the room, tangible and real, a subtle strengthening of the bonds between you. They may not fully comprehend your reality, but they're reaching out, trying to bridge the gap. And for now, at least, it's enough.

The fire dances in the hearth, painting the room with flickering shadows and bathing you all in its comforting glow. For a moment, everything else falls away, leaving only the crackling flames, the soft murmur of conversation, and the sense of peace that seems to settle over the world outside.

You finish sorting your pills into their designated compartments, the rhythm of the task grounding you. The lid of the weekly pill organizer closes with a satisfying click, a small victory against the chaos that often threatens to consume you. It’s a simple act, but in these uncertain times, even the smallest semblance of control is a lifeline.

James, ever the man of action even in stillness, shifts on the bed, leaning closer. His voice is a low rumble, steady and sure. "You know we're here, right?" It's not just a question—it's a tether, a lifeline thrown out to you in the darkness. And it's a promise, one that James Potter has every intention of keeping.

Sirius doesn't let himself be left behind, his own hand reaching out to touch yours lightly. There's something almost reverent in the gesture, as if he's afraid you'll shatter at a heavier touch. "We're not going anywhere." The words hang in the air, solidifying into a pact made of iron will and unyielding loyalty. His grey eyes are hard with resolve, the decision made long before the words had even left his lips: He will stay by your side, through this and whatever comes next.

Remus doesn't say anything more, but the silence that stretches between you is far from empty. His gaze never wavers, each exhale a testament to the quiet vigil he keeps. He understands, perhaps better than anyone, the battles waged in silence, the wars fought within oneself. And though he doesn't speak, his presence is a constant reassurance—there, always there, offering strength when yours threatens to wane.

[pretty-little-mind33]

ＳＨＯＲＴ ＡＮＤ ＳＷＥＥＴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

muggle au poly!marauders x fem!reader

Summary: You introduce yourself to the bookstore next door.

Warnings: none

"𝒪𝒽, 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃"

The air is chilly as you pull your jumper over your shoulders, balancing your silver tray in one hand. You blow some hair from your eyes and close on the door to your small cafe, the bell chiming after you. While technically you don't officially open until 10 am for brunch this morning, you had planned an assortment of mini-drinks and pastries to bring to the neighboring businesses so you could introduce yourself to them. 

Your first destination is the bookstore across the street. It's an old red-brick building, accompanied by a worn-out wooden door and a wooden sign where the name, "Moony's Library" is proudly displayed in chipped white paint. It looks homey and antique and when you walk over and can see that the small plaque on the door says closed. You knock anyway.

You receive no answer. 

Biting your lip, you hold your tray tighter against your sides, frowning as you raise your arm awkwardly to try again. Still no answer. You try the handle this time. You could have sworn you saw someone in the window. The door opens with a creak as you tentatively push on it and hesitantly, you step inside.

Just as you do, your shoe hits the slightly raised step of the entrance, bending your ankle awkwardly as you almost fall over. You gasp, catching yourself just in time as none of your drinks spilled or pastries fall. 

Thankful no one saw you—

"Clumsy, aren't you?" a voice drawls from the corner of the room and you jump, almost dropping the tray again. When you turn, you see a man sitting in an armchair in the corner, his left foot bound in a medical boot. His crutches lay against the side of the armchair.

The man is strikingly handsome, with his round glasses resting on his nose and his messy dark hair curls framed around his sharp hazel eyes. He isn't smiling, instead he is simply smirking like he knows something you don't know. 

"You scared me." Your voice sounds more intimidated than anticipated, and you walk towards the counter, placing the tray near some old books. You're careful not to ruin them as your cheeks burn warm. "I knocked," you point out, afraid he'll accuse you of being a trespasser. 

"I heard," the man says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows scrunch and he reads your mind. 

"We're closed. Didn't want to stand and open the door when we are closed." The man shrugs and as handsome as he is, you don't like how he's practically making fun of you. His eyes land on the drinks and trays and his lips curl, his voice a little more lighthearted this time. He makes a guess. "You own Whisk and Whims Cafe?" 

You nod and walk over, holding one of your drink samples to him. "This is a Caramel Cappuccino. It's called Autumn Swirl," you say and then pause a moment. "My name is Y/n," you add quietly.

The man takes the drink and drinks it all in one go. He smiles and looks at you again. "Decent," he teases, wiping the foam from his lips. "Hint of cinnamon?"

You nod again as another voice interrupts you. "James. Be nice, will you?" The man, James, rolls his eyes at this and leans back in the armchair, adjusting his boot with a grunt. You look behind you at the newcomer and your heart leaps. It's another man, just as handsome as this one. He looks taller and lankier and he has deep scars adorning his skin, accompanied by faint freckles you can only see if you focus very hard. Which you are. His dusty dark-blond hair swooshes almost perfectly. He's breathtaking and you lose your train of thought. 

"Hi, I'm Remus," the man comes up and holds out his hand, "Ignore my friend here, he can be grumpy in the morning."

You nod, looking at Remus and then James.

"Shut up, Moony."

"Moony," you whisper, referring to the bookstore's name. You look at Remus directly and smile. "You're the owner."

Remus chuckles and hums, strolling behind the counter. He looks around the old-fashioned bookstore; the books are arranged on tall bookshelves all around, wooden ladders accompanying the slightly dusty shelves. The ceiling is painted mural style, adorned by golden trim. His hand smoothes over an old book and then he looks at your tray of pastries and drinks.

"And you must be my new neighbor."

You smile and point to one of the small sample cookies. "Chocolate chip," you say and smile at Remus, "you seem like a chocolate kinda guy."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, love," James interrupts from behind you. He's leaning on one of his crutches, his broad shoulders flexing as he rolls them. He's smiling at you, towering over you as he leans one of his arms on the counter. 

Your cheeks feel warm again. "Are you partners?" You ask. 

James laughs loudly, his pretty lips turning into a smile. "No," Remus answers, finishing the cookie as he wipes the crumbs from his lips. "Jamie here is just helping while he recovers from his injury."

Your gaze falls to James's boot and he catches your gaze, his jaw clenching as he captures your chin in his hand, keeping your eyes on him. Fuck, you think as you look at him and his touch sends a jolt of electricity, he's so handsome.  

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he grumbles. The boot is obviously a sour subject for him and your eyes snap up. 

You nod, entranced. James smirks and drops your chin, his hand lingering in the air. Remus clears his throat and your attention is pulled to him again. "Y'know, I was thinking we could do something fun with our businesses—" Remus offers, stealing your attention as James's smile disappears and he clears his throat, turning to look at some of the books on the shelf. 

You turn to Remus fully now, fiddling with the small sample cups. "Oh?"

Remus nods. "I mean, a cafe and bookstore? A match made in heaven," he explains his plan, "I'm thinking we could host some events. Perhaps an evening tea book club? And we could have opportunities to blend our businesses, for example, one book purchased here could earn them one coupon at Whisk and Whims and some bonus coupons if they read the book in your cafe. I could also have James build you a bookshelf, he's my personal handyman, with sample books from here to bring in more customers, ones they could buy potentially—"

"Who said I would build you the bookshelf— I'm injured—" James interjects.

"James," Remus sends his friend a glare and you smile.

"I'd like that," you interrupt, loving Remus's plan. You feel happy that you've found him and your smile widens. "Thank you," you say honestly.

Remus's heart leaps at that smile you wear and he has to shake himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, y-yeah, no problem," he says, his Welsh accent slipping out because he's nervous and James sends him a curious look.

When you return to your café, the interactions replay in your head. You switch the open sign, humming as the mental image of James's curly hair and Remus's smile causes you to feel an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest. The morning is slower, which you'd expected from your first day, but you don't mind as your mind wanders. 

Eventually, the clock strikes one, and that familiar bell rings. You look up from where you're rearranging the cookies in the window. There are only a few customers and you only have a few staff so you see him instantly. 

You jump up, rushing to the door to open it for him since he does have crutches at the moment. However, you almost slam into a doe-eyed redhead as she holds the door open for James. Your eyes widen and you stumble back, hand finding your apron as you suppress the embarrassment coursing your veins.

The girl turns to you, skin pale and eyes a shiny emerald green. Her cherry red hair is braided to the side and she looks behind her, smiling as James helps himself through the door. He lifts his head, staring at you.

"Y/n," he says your name, a little surprised to find you here and not behind the counter. Where you should be. He turns to his girlfriend—friend? And for the first time since you'd met him today, he smiles warmly, "Thanks, Lils," 

James looks at you again and this time, the smile stays. "Remus is still busy but I wanted to stop by and see how business is," he looks around the mostly empty room and his smile falters just enough for you to see the change. Your embarrassment grows. 

Lils interrupts him, "For your first day, it's quite good! It took Sirius months to fill out his store, right, Jamsie?" 

You look at her, grateful for the kind words, and unclench your hands from your apron. You push away the embarrassment and gesture to a small table near the window, "This one is free," you back away, your voice a little shaky as you ask them, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have another Autumn Swirl," James teases you as he staggers over with the girl's hand around his muscular arm. "Lily will have anything with matcha." He laughs and Lily rolls her eyes at him, but then she nods at you. 

"Thanks," she says and then smiles. Her smile is the prettiest thing you have ever seen and when you return behind the counter to make their order, you feel stupid. Of course, someone like James is already in a relationship! What were you thinking—developing a school-girl crush on a guy you'd met only hours ago? 

You shake your head, successfully diminishing the warmth from your cheeks but only worsening that pit in your stomach as you do your best to focus on the drinks instead of hearing James's, already intoxicating, laughter from across the room. 

tags: @nubigenouss

~ THANK YOU FOR READING! this is my first series. I'm nervous but hopefully you like this! very slow burn ;) ik Sirius isn't in this one, but he will be soon! ~

[foodiegoogie]

the marauders x you when you unlock a streak with each other on tiktok

quick lil info! a tiktok streak happens when you message someone for 3 days in a row, and a streak badge (🔥) appears on the chat. then, hence the name ‘streak,’ it grows as you continue to exchange messages and tiktoks with e/o :]

note: heyyy 😋 it's been a hot minute since i posted anything worth of a read,, i was fighting for my life, finishing schoolwork HAHA but anyway, plz enjoy these headcannons in the meantime as i accomplish the requests rotting in my inbox, and continue my wips :P

"babe, are you okay? because our streak isn't. i need you to hold your end of the deal here!"

𓄃 let's be real.. james would be SO dramatic abt it. mans is devoted and loyal in every way, shape, and form—tiktok streak included!

𓄃 so when it does happen, he would never let you hear the end of it. ever. if he sees the lil fire badge on ur chat in grey and not orange? trust that he'll remind you to reply so the streak continues (indefinitely, in his preference)

𓄃 would send you the most unhinged of tiktoks; ranging from silly dances ("we should do this!!!" he would say), wholesome reminders of his love for you, and the whole shebang!!!!

𓄃 "haha this is so u" and it can either be smth super sweet n cute or smth he thought was funny but it isnt to u (in a funny way btw :3)

𓄃 but even tho our boy is a lil obnoxious most of the time, he understands ofc that realistically, the streak will have to die down for a few days :(

𓄃 but that's alright, no biggie! james is in love with u, enough to forgive u for not continuing the streak–

"are u mad at me?"

"what? no! jamie- no."

"okay :)"

(pregnant pause)

"baby?"

"yeah?"

"...our streak?"

"(sighs in fond exasperation)"

"dove, we need to talk about your screen time. yes, yes– i know, i'm a hypocrite for saying that. but my point still stands–"

☾ remus lupin is a total grandpa. in theory? nay. in essence and style? thru and thru baby!

☾ honestly i can imagine that at the beginning of ur relationship orrr myb the honeymoon phase, remus only has tiktok installed cuz a) u told him to bcoz u need him to see the stuff that comes up in ur fyp and b) it's the 21st century? it's basically this generation's newspaper now. get with the times!

☾ when a streak happens between u guys tho, it's him that accidentally unlocks it. why? oh! cuz he makes sure to reply and react to each and every single message and tiktok u send him!!! TEEHEE

☾ "oh look love!!! this is so us 🥺💞" and then 10 seconds (or less) later a notif pops up, rjlupin reacted with ❤ to your message

☾ he may follow up a reply of either "i love you" or a "ur so cheesy 😂"

☾ once remus gets the hang of it tho, he would absoluuuutely be committed to the streak.

☾ all he ever sends u is date ideas and book recs (coming from solid booktok accs btw, he isnt stupid) and those really wholesome hopecore tiktoks or slideshows of rly hard-hitting quotes that he thought was nice and thinks u should see as well :((

☾ but he's highly aware (as the quote above this hc suggests) that keeping this streak up is a team effort, and he's aware that u guys r similar in the way that ur both sleep-deprived 😭 and are prone to staying up late at night, doom scrolling on whatever socmed app or stuck inside a gripping chapter of a book :>

☾ it’s even gotten to the point where he just knows ur up at the same time he is, especially late at night. and so when the clock strikes midnight:

dove, u need to sleep. goodnight ❤️ no, YOU need to sleep ❤️ goodnight ily i love u too 🥰 but seriously, go to sleep. but our streak 🥺 it wont die. anw, im facetiming u so i know ur sleeping

☾ BONUS HC OMG ?! he would so totally be one of those bfs who would video call u as u guys r going 2 sleep and OFCCCC IT ENDS UP BEING U FALLING ASLEEP FIRST AND HIM SMILING CUZ HE FINDS U SO ADORABLE LIKE THIS AAAAA

“seriously, love? you know my love for you goes beyond sending you tiktoks every day, right?”

✶ sirius black, the nation's "bad boy", would actually be so bewildered by the whole thing LMAO he'd tease u endlessly my dude. Endlessly.

✶ but at the same time, he would secretly be kind of excited abt the whole thing :3 like what? he gets to spam u on tiktok with purpose now ???? he would (NOT) like to apologize for the nuisance he's about to become, actually

✶ the tiktoks that sirius sends u are mostly of biggg fashion accs showing off their wardrobe and doing mix n matches of diff clothing n stuff,, bcoz Duh !

✶ OH and he also sends u those rly well-made typography edits of lyrics from 70s to 80s songs because, again, DUH !

✶ he would soooooo send you those tiktoks that go "send this to ur friend and ask which berry u are!" and act all nonchalant abt it but would literally complain abt how u think of him as a raspberry, of all berries. i mean:

BUT BLACKBERRY WAS RIGHT THERE?? HOW COULD U MISS SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY??? then why did u even bother to send me this siri.... OH IM SORRY I GUESS IT WAS WRONG FOR ME TO EXPECT THAT WE'D BOTH THINK THAT I'D BE A BLACKBERRY sirius.... bffr dont 'bffr' me rn, im literally named Sirius??? treat my name w/ respect u brat!!??

✶ usually tho along with the fashion tiktoks, he'd send u the weirdest kind of shit ever. like corecore?? trippy skits??? creepy animations?? u name it, sirius will probably share it with u!

✶ if u somehow get suspiciously unresponsive in ur chat w/ him tho, which threatens the streak, he would worry loadssss like, "baby, you didn't reply to that tiktok i sent you earlier today. did i do something wrong?"

✶ ^^ kinda similar with james in a way HAHAHAH

✶ BONUS HC AS WELLLL but sirius would totally, absolutely post thirst traps of himself on tiktok.

✶ but then he'd always post them under the privacy setting of 'friends only,' and then tag u SPECIFICALLY in the captions bcoz "oh this? this is for your eyes only, love."

AHHHH OMG this is my first time doing hcs!! i hope this format was ok w u guys hue hue :3 thanks 4 reading as alwayz 🫶

[thatdammchickennugget]

Mr. Sensible One

pairing - remus lupin x fem!reader

summary - watching over a sick four-year-old shouldn't be too difficult, right? But when a minor fever turns into a full-blown panic, you find yourself helping two very anxious godfathers through the ordeal—one of whom is surprisingly charming, despite the chaos

warnings - fluff, nurse!reader, teasing, reader is described with hair long enough to be put into a ponytail, muggle!reader, sick child, canon divergent (lily and james never died)

wordcount - 2.7k

a/n - a little oneshot to celebrate my new job at a pediatrician

Remus Lupin had always considered himself a calm, rational man, even in the face of adversity. After all, he’d lived through full moons, more than one near-death experience, and Sirius’ cooking on numerous occasions. But now, as he stood in the living room of his cramped but cozy little apartment, watching a sick and very miserable looking four-year-old Harry sniffling on the couch, that calm was quickly unraveling.

Harry let out a tiny sneeze, his face scrunching up as though the world had personally offended him. His glasses slipped down his nose as he pouted, tears brimming in his big green eyes. Remus’s heart sank.

“Is that—Pads, is that a fever?” Remus asked, holding a shaky hand to Harry’s forehead. “He feels warm, doesn’t he? I think he’s burning up.”

Sirius, who was pacing by the fireplace, stopped long enough to shoot a panicked glance at Remus. "Warm? He's on fire, Moony! Oh Merlin, I knew something like this would happen! We are so not cut out for this! James and Lily are going to murder us!"

Remus groaned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "We can’t let them come back to find their son in pieces."

"I'm not cut out to be a godfather under these conditions," Sirius muttered, crouching next to Harry and trying to look reassuring. It wasn’t working. Harry stared at them both, looking pitiful and confused as if sensing the rising anxiety around him.

“Lily left us a number. For his pediatrician, I think!” Remus suddenly remembered, grabbing the note Lily had meticulously taped to his fridge before they left for their first vacation since Harry was born. "We just need to call the doctor, and everything will be fine."

"You can use a telephone?" Sirius asked, incredulity breaking through his worry.

Remus shot him a look. "It’s not that hard."

“Well, get on with it, then!” Sirius urged, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Remus fumbled with the phone, his mind racing. He had no idea how to explain what was going on. He had even less of an idea what a Muggle pediatrician could do for a magical child, but Lily had sworn by this doctor. As the phone rang, Remus felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hello, Willowbrook Pediatrics, how can I help you?" a warm, feminine voice answered.

For a second, Remus could only blink in surprise. The voice was soothing, far more relaxed than he was at the moment. It brought him back down to earth, just a little.

"Er—hello, this is Remus Lupin," he stammered, shifting on his feet as Sirius threw him an impatient look. "I’m watching a little boy, Harry Potter—he's, um, he’s my friend’s kid. I think he’s sick? And I think he’s got a fever? I—I’m not sure what I should be doing."

There was a small pause on the other end of the line. Remus’s anxiety flared again until he heard a soft chuckle.

“You sound like you’re ready to have a heart attack, Mr. Lupin. Don’t worry. Kids get sick all the time, especially at that age. It’s probably nothing serious. Why don’t you bring him in, and we’ll take a look?”

Remus blinked, thrown by her casual tone. "Bring him in? Oh, right. Yes, of course. I should’ve thought of that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why didn’t I think of that?

“You’re doing fine," the nurse added gently, still sounding amused. "Just breathe. You’re not the first one to call in a panic. We’ve seen it all.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, his cheeks warming in embarrassment.

“Great. We’ll be expecting you,” she replied, and then, as if to reassure him one more time, “I promise, he’s going to be alright. Just come in when you can.”

When the line disconnected, Remus let out a long breath, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders.

“Well?” Sirius asked, practically bouncing on his heels. “What’d they say?”

Remus pocketed the phone. “We’re taking him in. She said it’s probably nothing serious.”

Sirius visibly sagged in relief. "See, I knew we’d be fine. We can handle this."

Remus wasn’t so sure, but as he bundled Harry up to go, his mind kept circling back to the voice on the phone.

ੈ♡˳

Remus wasn’t entirely sure how he expected a Muggle pediatrician's office to look, but the moment he and Sirius walked in with Harry in tow, he was immediately overwhelmed. Brightly colored walls, posters of cartoon animals, and shelves lined with toys greeted them. Children’s laughter echoed from a small play area in the corner, though Remus was fairly certain one or two were close to tears. The mix of noise made his head spin.

"Is it always this chaotic?" Sirius muttered under his breath, eyeing a child trying to climb one of the chairs in the waiting area.

"It’s a doctor’s office, Pads, not Azkaban," Remus replied, though he too was a little out of his element. Harry, clutching his favorite stuffed dragon under one arm, looked miserable, his cheeks flushed from the fever.

“Here, sit down with Harry. I’ll handle the paperwork,” Remus said, gently guiding Harry toward a row of chairs.

“Paperwork? What paperwork?” Sirius asked, frowning.

"Just sit down," Remus sighed, already walking toward the front desk.

As he approached, he noticed the receptionist—the same voice he'd heard on the phone. You were scribbling something on a clipboard, completely focused, but when you looked up, your face softened into a welcoming smile.

"Mr. Lupin, right?" you asked, looking at him with the same warmth he'd heard earlier.

Remus felt a flicker of recognition, though he couldn’t place it. Something about you seemed familiar. "Yes, Remus Lupin. I called earlier."

You nodded. “Yeah, I recognized Harry.” ou peered over his shoulder, gaze falling on the tired little boy snuggled into Sirius’s side.

“Yes, that’s him. He’s, uh…not feeling great,” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

You smiled gently. “Poor thing. We’ll get him looked at as soon as possible." You handed Remus a clipboard with a short form. "I just need you to fill out a few details—basic information— because he hasn’t been here yet this year, and then the doctor can see him.”

Remus stared down at the form, trying not to let his bewilderment show. It was mostly straightforward, but some of the questions made him pause. Medical history? Allergies? He wished Lily were here to fill this out, but he scribbled in what he knew, occasionally glancing up to see Harry leaning more heavily on Sirius.

“You seem like you’re doing better now than when you called,” you remarked, noticing his tense scribbles.

Remus chuckled nervously. “You, uh, caught me at a bad time. I didn’t realize how difficult this would be.”

"Well, you're doing great," you reassured him, eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement. “You’re not the first to panic over a sick kid. Happens all the time.”

“I’m not usually one to panic,” he said quickly, though his mind betrayed him by flashing back to that morning's chaos. Except when it comes to Harry.

You tilted your head, a strand of hair falling loose from your ponytail as you studied him. "You really care about him, don’t you?"

Remus blinked at the observation. "Of course. He's... he means a lot to me. To us," he corrected, glancing over at Sirius, who was currently trying to distract Harry by making funny faces.

Your smile deepened, a fondness in your eyes. “Lily picked well, then.” you said it so casually that for a moment, Remus wasn’t sure if he heard right.

“Wait,” he said slowly, realization dawning. "You know Lily?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Oh, I probably should’ve mentioned that earlier. I’m Y/N, an old friend of hers from school. Well, before she went to boarding school, anyways. We’ve known each other since we were kids."

Remus stared, momentarily thrown. How had Lily never mentioned you?

“I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, feeling a little foolish. “She’s never mentioned you before. I’m sorry.”

You waved it off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t see her much anymore, with everything going on in her world. But we stayed in touch.”

Her world. Remus knew exactly what that meant. You might have been unaware of the magical specifics, but you clearly knew Lily had a separate life. He wanted to ask more, but a small voice from behind interrupted his thoughts.

“Uncle Moony,” Harry mumbled, reaching out for him, his little face pinched with discomfort.

Remus was by his side in an instant. “Hey, bub. You’re going to see the doctor soon, okay? They’ll help you feel better.”

You watched the scene unfold with a soft smile before standing up from behind the desk. “We’ll get him checked out right away,” you said kindly, motioning for them to follow toward one of the exam rooms.

Remus gently lifted Harry into his arms, the boy's tiny hands clutching onto his shirt as he rested his head on Remus's shoulder. His breathing was shallow, his face warm against Remus’s neck. Despite the weight of worry settling in his chest, he offered Harry a small smile.

“Let’s get you sorted, kiddo.”

Sirius was right behind them, glancing back and forth between Remus and you, his curiosity clearly piqued. “So,” he began casually, falling into step beside you. “You and Lily, huh? That’s a surprise. I don’t remember her mentioning any old friends.”

You chuckled, pace unhurried. “I’m not surprised. We lost touch for a while after she went to that mysterious ‘boarding school’ of hers. I guess her life changed quite a bit after that.”

Sirius hummed in response, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Remus shot him a warning look over Harry’s head, as if reminding Sirius to tread carefully. The last thing they needed was to accidentally expose the Wizarding world to an unsuspecting Muggle, especially one who was apparently still connected to Lily. Sirius winked at him, clearly taking that as a challenge.

“So, Y/N,” Sirius continued, his voice dropping to a mock-conspiratorial tone, “what exactly did Lily tell you about her boarding school?”

You laughed again, this time more softly, shaking your head as you led them down the hallway. “Not as much as you’d think. It’s always been this huge mystery, like something out of a fantasy novel. She’d come back every summer with these wild stories, but when I pressed her, she’d just change the subject. I think she enjoyed keeping me in the dark.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, intrigued by how much you didn’t know. He wondered how Lily had navigated that line between two worlds for so long. “Didn’t it drive you mad not knowing?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, opening the door to one of the exam rooms. “Sometimes. But we’ve been friends for so long… I figured if it was something she wanted to tell me, she would. Besides, I always got to hear lots about James. And about you two as well.”

Remus blinked, startled by the mention of himself and Sirius. "Us?" he echoed, stepping into the exam room with Harry still nestled against him.

Sirius raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh, do tell. What stories has our dear Lily been spreading about us?"

You smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Well, I wouldn’t say 'spreading,' but she did mention you two from time to time. You, especially, Sirius. Something about you being…what was it? Oh right, 'impossible to control’. And Remus here was always 'the sensible one, the voice of reason.’” You chuckled. “But it seems like that balance has worked out well for you all these years."

Sirius puffed up with mock pride, placing a hand over his heart. "Impossible to control? I take that as a compliment."

Remus rolled his eyes, shifting Harry slightly in his arms. "I’m sure she meant it that way."

You chuckled at their banter, pushing off from the doorframe to prepare the exam room. “Well, you three certainly sound like a handful, from what I’ve heard.”

Sirius flashed you a charming grin, ever the extrovert, already opening his mouth for another quip. Remus shot Sirius a pointed look, but his attention quickly shifted back to Harry, whose tiny frame seemed even smaller sitting on the exam table. He gently brushed a hand through the boy's messy hair. "He's still burning up," Remus murmured softly, the worry evident in his voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, you turned back to them, your tone professional but kind. "Alright, let's take a look and see what's going on with him."

As you moved toward Harry, Sirius leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to seem relaxed, though the concern in his eyes betrayed him. Remus sat on the edge of the table, still holding Harry’s hand. The boy stirred a bit, his feverish eyes flickering open just enough to meet yours.

"Hey there, Harry," you said softly, crouching down to his level. "I'm just going to check a few things, okay? You’re going to feel better soon, I promise."

Harry nodded weakly, his bottom lip quivering as you took out a thermometer. As you gently placed it under his arm, Remus kept whispering reassurances, his thumb softly rubbing circles on the back of Harry’s hand.

"So, how long has he been like this?" you asked, glancing up at them.

Remus bit his lip, thinking. "Just since this morning, I think. He was fine last night when we put him to bed. But then he woke up with this fever, and he’s been sluggish and…off."

Sirius chimed in, unable to contain himself. "He's not usually like this, you know. He's normally bouncing off the walls, keeping us on our toes."

You nodded, your practiced hand moving swiftly as you checked Harry's vitals. "Sounds like it could just be a regular bug. Kids his age are bound to catch something sooner or later. But we'll see what the doctor says."

After a few more moments of quiet examination, you straightened up and smiled at them both. “The doctor will be in soon, but it looks like a pretty standard fever so far. You’re doing the right thing bringing him in.”

Remus exhaled a breath, the weight of the moment lessening, but his eyes still reflected lingering concern. Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him. “See, Moony? We’ve got this.”

You handed Remus a small packet of information, including instructions for monitoring Harry’s fever. At first he didn’t even notice the sticky note you left on top. “This should help too. But don’t hesitate to call if things change.”

As you made your way back to the door, you hesitated for a moment before turning around with a smile, your voice slightly teasing. “And if you need any more help with Harry—or anything else—don’t be afraid to use that other number I gave you.” You gave Remus a wink before walking out, leaving Sirius snickering and Remus flushing a light shade of pink as he looked down to find your phone number scribbled on the note.

Sirius grinned widely, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Well, well, Mr. Sensible One, looks like you’ve made an impression.”

Remus groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Shut up, Pads.”

Sirius wasn’t about to let it go, though. “A wink and everything. You should ask her to dinner or something—Lily would love it. And think about it, Moony, you’d finally get out of the house.”

Remus gave him a long-suffering look, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "We’re here for Harry, not me."

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius drawled, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms. “But Harry’s not the only one who deserves to feel better, is he?”

With a small laugh, Remus glanced down at the packet of papers in his hand, his thoughts lingering just a little longer on those numbers staring back at him. Maybe Sirius was right… maybe he did deserve a bit of happiness, too.

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Draw stars around my scars, part 2 - Remus Lupin x Female Reader

Read part 1 here!

Synopsis: Many weeks had passed since the most recent full moon, yet James and Sirius still will not let you see Remus. What could they be hiding?

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, swearing, mentions of injuries

After you made your visit to Remus that night, things briskly returned to the way they had been: him locked away in the infirmary, still recovering, and you left to your own devices, with only homework and classes to keep you occupied.

The feelings of betrayal and confusion did not come and go with the days as you might expect – rather they flooded you, engulfing every facet of your life and though you knew it was pitiful, you could not find it within yourself to just ‘get over it’. This was the advice Sirius had insightfully bestowed upon you when he found you in the common room the morning after, clearly having heard about the altercation from Remus himself.

It was common knowledge that Sirius was not the most well-versed in emotions – you could ask anyone on campus, and they would be able to tell you that, but that was not what upset you about his ‘pep talk’.

What did it for you was that Remus had spoken to Sirius about you. You were aware it sounded silly, but who were you if not the person that Remus shared everything with? You had been there for him in fourth year when he got a low score on his potions exam, consoling him and vowing to keep it a secret between the two of you. Ever since you learnt of his lycanthropy, you had spent the days after full moons making sure that he was comfortable and safe.

In essence, you knew everything there was about Remus Lupin, and in turn, he knew everything about you. So, to find out that he had just shared your private business with Sirius, it hurt. You did not care if they were best friends: it hurt – plain and simple.

Despite all of this, you pushed through, burying it in the confines of your heart and focussing on school.

Now a week on, your feet carried you to class, sending echoes down the corridor with each strike of your shoes against the worn stone ground. Almost late, you rounded the corner to your lesson, hurried pace unfaltering – until you heard a familiar voice up ahead.

Getting closer now, he came into your view, standing outside the room with Professor McGonagall.

“I am assured you understand the work you must catch up on?” She inquired, shuffling a small stack of paperwork together, before passing them over to the boy opposite her.

“Yes, Professor,” he smiled, accepting the sheets into his hands, “I’ll try to have it all finished by the end of the week.”

“Wonderful, I do hope that you’re feeling better.” She turned on her heel, passing through into her classroom, leaving Remus alone and you standing at the other end of the corridor.

His gaze flickered over, noticing the fidgeting of your silhouette in his periphery. As his eyes met your own and his hand shakily rose to obscure his lower face, the air in your throat hitched and your brows knitted together. 


You remained like this for a short, bittersweet moment – relieved to see that he was doing okay, although confused as to why he was shielding his face, but still indescribably agonised as you recalled what had happened the last time you saw him.

Rashly deciding that you could not bear to stay put any longer, lest you say something to him, you resumed your dash down the hall and ducked past Remus, into the classroom and collapsed in your seat, books firmly thudding onto the ink-stained table.

Only seconds after your loud entrance, he slipped in too, sitting wedged between Sirius and James on the other side of the room.

As you spent the next sixty minutes jotting down notes on transfiguration, the sound of quills on parchment and Professor McGonagall’s lecture filled the class. Though you tried to concentrate, thoughts of Remus incessantly flooded the forefront of your mind.

Upset as you were, you could not help but yearn to see his face entirely again. He had become a familiar pillar in your life over the years at Hogwarts, with there almost never being a day where he was not by your side. Having not seen him properly since before the full moon was slowly killing you.

Awkwardly, your neck twisted around, cracking slightly as you leant back to peer behind the Hufflepuff seated next to you. There he was: hunched over his desk, scrawling away, ever the academic. Continuing to stare, you took in his slightly dishevelled appearance. His sleeves were pulled as far down as they could go, yet bandages still managed to peek out of the bottoms. His hair was flecked with gold, falling messily over his forehead like always, except a new pink ribbon of a scratch descended from his hairline, travelling diagonally down across his face. The wound finished just above the corner of his mouth, which twitched as he paused to think.

Placing your palms onto your table, you braced yourself to quietly turn back around. Success almost befell you, but alas, James caught sight of you at the last moment, reaching behind Remus to prod Sirius, gesturing silently towards you.

Scoffing, you snatched up your pen and prepared to carry on with your note taking.

Having gotten a good look at him, you found it easy to hazard a guess at the cause of his hostility that night in the infirmary. Never in your six years of knowing Remus Lupin did you get the impression that he was self-assured, confident, or felt anything other than insecure. So, you could safely assume that this new scar was the source of several new insecurities itself.

Either way, just because he was feeling glum did not give him an excuse to be rude to you. Not when you had blatantly expressed your unconditional love for him and worked so tirelessly to bring communication into your relationship.

You told Lily this currently, the two of you curled up on a twin pair of armchairs in the Gryffindor common room.

“I completely agree,” she sympathised, tucking her feet underneath her, “if James spoke to me like that, we would be having some serious words.”

“I’m really glad you understand,” you smiled tightly, running your fingers through your hair, “I just feel like, insanely petty? I do want to talk to Remus, but I want it to be him that initiates the conversation, not me.”

“I hate for my advice to be so useless, but I think he just needs time. He really does care for you, he’ll come around eventually.” She leant forward in her seat to place a hand on your forearm, soothing the skin there in a show of comfort.

Aware that she was right; you nodded and hummed your agreement.

“If it’s any consolation, James said that Remus has been a miserable old bag since he had that go at you,” Lily offered, retracting her arm back into her lap. You supposed it did help a little, to know that he was feeling awful too.

“Actually, that’s a relief to hear-“ you went to respond, but found yourself interrupted as James bolted into the common room, calling your name.

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you shot the girl opposite you a panicked look – debating between either running away or hiding somewhere nearby. Anyone who was anyone knew that when James Potter came knocking, it did not end well.

Too caught up in planning an escape route, you were soon hunted down by the boy, as you looked up to see a second year pointing in your direction. Scowling, you accepted your fate and sat up rigid in your chair, preparing yourself for what was to come.

He patted the younger student on the back as thanks and picked his pace back up, lightly jogging towards you both.

‘Hi Lily.” He simpered; eyes full of adoration as he glanced at her. “Sorry to interrupt you two lovely ladies, but I need you to come with me really quick.” He huffed, out of breath, as his gaze shifted over to your figure.

Although he lacked his usual mischievous smirk, you remained apprehensive to place any trust in him. Whilst he had not done anything wrong himself, he was friends with Remus, who decidedly had done something very wrong. So, you were almost obligated not to follow him, simply by proxy.

It seemed that he could tell what you were thinking, as his hands clasped together in front of him, and he began to do what could only be described as begging.

“Please,” he started, shaking his arms at you, “it’ll be like, ten minutes maximum. I just need you to come help me with some,” he looked away, “homework.”

Still unconvinced, you looked back over to Lily, who only contributed a small shrug to the conversation. You both knew James well, and you both knew he would not leave unless forced. In this moment, you realised your only real choice was to do what he asked, because Merlin knows you were not in the mood to physically remove your best friend’s boyfriend from the room.

You reluctantly peeled yourself off the armchair, trailing behind as he led the way.

 In the back of your mind, you knew that he did not need help with his homework. Even though he and Sirius spent most of their free time pranking other pupils, they rarely struggled with the workload given to them by teachers. It was a miracle really, that either of them should even be passing classes, let alone excelling in them.

As the pair of you passed through the dimly lit hallways, evening moonlight poured through the windows, offering slightly more illumination than the sconces could on their own. There was a soft pattering of people hurrying by, headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

You wove between the bustling crowd, being taken deeper into the East Wing. You neared the less frequently used classrooms and began to wonder what James truly needed from you. It clearly was not help with academics, since you could have assisted him with that back in the common room.

He came to a halt outside a room you had never noticed before, its door tucked tightly between the cobbled pillars that sat on each side. His palm reached out, face up and his fingers wiggled unbecomingly.

“Before we go inside, I need you to give me your wand,” he urged, hand writhing even more as he posed his request.

You began to pull your wand out of your pocket, but a wave of sanity washed heavily over you, clutching it firmly in your fist.

“Why do you need it?” you pried, suspicions rising rapidly.

“Doesn’t matter,” he tried, hand making a grabby gesture, “I just need it.”

“Well, that’s not a good enough reason, is it?”

“Just,“ he lunged at you, successfully swiping the wand from your grip, “give it here!”

Left bewildered and frustrated by the childish grin that adorned his face, you huffed. You did not remain like this for long however, as James grabbed your hand and pulled you into the room with him, hinges screeching as the door opened and shut behind you.

The new surroundings were underwhelming. Desks lined the sides of the room, pushed up against the walls, dust sheets draped over them. There were few windows, leaving the area significantly darker than the corridor you had just found yourself in. Apart from this, the room was virtually empty – except for Remus and Sirius, who stood front and centre, Remus with a dejected look on his face, and Sirius with an irritatingly smug one.

Obviously proud with himself, he stepped forward, standing assertively between you and Remus, clearing his throat obnoxiously.

“You’re probably wondering why I gathered you all here today,” he announced to the chamber, “and I can tell you, it’s because I am absolutely exhausted with Moons here being a pain in my arse.”

Even in the poor lighting, you saw a frown flicker across his features at that, but he did not try to protest it.

“Just ‘cause you two are having a lover’s tiff-“ he pointed accusatorily at the both of you, “-does not mean that poor old James and I need to suffer as well.”

He started to move towards the exit, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

“I’m going to lock this door, and we’re going to leave the two of you to make up,” he explained slowly, “we’ll come back in an hour – if you guys haven’t sorted it out by then, we’ll leave you here until the morning, which means no dinner for either of you.”

It was normally hilarious when he got like this, all attitude and condescension, but the idea of being locked away with Remus overshadowed the funniness of the moment, and you contemplated begging to be let out.

Your mind raced with confliction. As much as you wanted a chance to speak with Remus, you had wanted it to be of his own volition. Locking him away and forcing him to speak with you felt a little unfair. Then again, you were not the one who planned this elaborate scheme.

Neither of you had the chance to say anything, as Sirius and James swiftly left the room, the door clicking shut behind the pair of them.

Not seeing the use in delaying it any longer, you turned to face Remus properly for the first time in over a week and a half. He offered a small smile, clearly finding this just as awkward as you did.  

“Um,” he mumbled, looking away from you.

You felt daft, as if you lacked a backbone, because that was all it took for you to begin to empathise with him again. Even though the derelict class had little to no light in it, he still could not bring himself to risk showing you his new scar, worried you would hate it - hate him.

Though you loved him dearly and would not change a thing about him for the world, you only wished he could be more confident in himself. He was nothing but gorgeous and you intended on telling him that right now.

“I saw your new scar,” you jumped straight in, noticing how his body stiffened, “I think it suits you – gives you a rugged look, it’s nice, kind of handsome, too.”

Only semi convinced, he turned to meet your gaze, responding with a shy, “You think so?”

“I know so,” you beamed, overjoyed to be talking to him again.

“That’s really kind of you to say, considering I was so rude to you,” he admitted.

You chose to let him continue, anxious to see what else he had to say.

“I just- I just wasn’t ready for you to see me, especially not like that, all bandaged up and helpless,” he swallowed thickly, “but I know that doesn’t mean I can just run around being a dickhead the people I love, I’m really truly sorry.”

You stepped closer, reaching your hands out for his.

“I should’ve respected your privacy, Rem, I’m sorry too.”

His arms tugged you in closer, enveloping you in a tight embrace with his palms running lengths along your back.

"It’s okay, next time I’ll tell Sirius and James to be honest about it with you, instead of letting them make up silly excuses,” he chuckled slightly.

“Actually, that did upset me a bit.”

“What did? The excuses?”  

“No,” you paused for thought, “when you told Sirius about our little spat, I don’t know, I just felt a bit betrayed, usually I’m the one you tell everything to and I wasn’t used to Sirius knowing all this stuff about us,” you answered honestly, voice soft and gentle as not to break the tranquil moment.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, aren’t you?” he replied, no malice in his tone, just humour as his palms moved to hold your face, “you’re my number one – always have been, always will be.”

His eyes searched yours, and in that instant, you knew everything would be okay.

Tags:

@moonpascaltoo @wonderlandwalker @simp-for-fiction @allllium @too-lameforyou @kenqki @queenanababy @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @tomsspidermangf @777heavengirl @oyeahwatchme @maccapacks

Tagging some people who I think might be interested in part 2! Thank you so much for reading 🫶🫶

[wzrd-wheezes]

Friday, I'm in Love - Remus Lupin x Reader

"Remus found himself visiting the shop more often and Y/N found herself looking forward to his unplanned but always promised visits." 

AN - I had this idea for a fic ages ago and it's taken me so long to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy n please give it a reblog if you do <3 I also have a lil list of songs that I listened to while writing this so let me know if you want me to post it

It was a slow morning, to say the least. Outside, the downpour was relentless, each raindrop drumming against the thin glass of the record shop’s front windows, blurring the already muted colours of the street beyond. The warm glow of the shop lights barely reached the pavement.  

Y/N hadn’t seen a customer in over an hour and the stillness had settled into a comfortable rhythm. She passed the time by meticulously arranging the coins in the till, the soft clinking sounds punctuating the quiet. The final notes of a record filled the room before slowing to a comforting crackle. Choosing the music that played instore was one of the few small joys on slow days. 

She wandered over to the old turntable, her fingers trailing along the edge of a weathered box of records. The sleeves, many of them worn and well-loved, slipped past her fingers as she thumbed through them. After a moment of contemplation, she settled on one, slipping it from its sleeve and setting it on the turntable, guiding the needle to the edge. The familiar crackle started once more, followed by the comforting notes of the music.  

Y/N hummed to herself as she wandered around the small shop, flitting between the shelves, straightening records, adjusting displays and dusting off the shelves. She was working alone today, however, she didn’t mind the solitude – there was something peaceful about the quiet, empty shop, surrounded by rows of records and the soft glow old the old lamps. With no one to talk to and no customers to serve, she settled herself back behind the till, pouring herself a fresh mug of coffee and perching on the counter behind her, reaching for her book that she kept stashed away. 

She had just settled into a good part of her book when the sharp jingle of the bell above the door startled her. She looked up, the shop’s quiet suddenly disrupted as a gust of cool, rain-scented air swept in. A man stepped inside shaking droplets from his coat as he paused in the doorway, taking in the warmth of the shop. 

For a moment, their eyes met and Y/N felt a flutter of surprise at the sudden presence. She closed her book softly, setting it aside as she slid off the counter. He was dripping from the rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair slightly dishevelled. His eyes scanned the room before they finally landed on her. He offered a small, almost sheepish smile as he stepped further inside. 

“Bloody horrible out there, isn’t it?” he said, his voice warm despite the miserable weather. He ran a hand through his damp hair, attempting to tame it as he gave her a lopsided grin.  

“Absolutely,” she agreed, “You can hang your jacket up while you look around if you like? There’s nothing worse than a soggy coat while you’re trying to shop.” she gestured towards the coat stand adjacent to the door.  

He smiled appreciatively, immediately taking her up on the offer and shedding the sodden jacket, revealing a rumpled jumper underneath.  

“Thank you. It’s nice to be out of the rain for a bit.” he said, his eyes flickering over the shelves of records that lined the walls. 

“Can I get you a coffee or anything? It’s only meant to be for staff, but you look like you could do with warming up.” 

He looked pleasantly surprised, a grateful smile spreading across his face. 

“That would be lovely, actually. As long as it won’t get you into trouble?” 

Y/N laughed shaking her head, “It’s only me in today and I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

He chuckled, clearly relieved, “Deal. I appreciate it.” 

With a nod, she moved behind the counter, grabbing the coffee pot from the warmer and pouring it into a clean mug. A moment later, she joined him by the shelves, handing him the steaming cup. 

“Here you go. Try not to spill any on the records - you’ll get me sacked and I actually quite like this job.” she teased.  

He took the mug with a grin, “I’ll try to be extra careful. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your imminent unemployment.” 

“Glad to hear it. I’ll be over there,” she jutted her head towards the till, “Give me a shout if you need anything.” 

She watched him as he browsed; he was interesting to look at. His trousers were slightly too short for his lanky frame, and with every step they revealed glimpses of his mismatched socks. His hair, now starting to dry, was settling into soft waves. When she had handed him the mug, she had noticed that his hands were marked with white scars, matching the ones that adorned his face. He seemed absorbed in the records, flipping through them with a thoughtful expression. Occasionally, he would pause to examine a cover. After a short while, he approached the counter with a small stack of records in hand. 

 “I think I’ve found a few that might be worth a listen.” he set them down with a satisfied smile. 

“Yeah? Any particular mood you’re going for, or just exploring?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.  

“Just exploring. I haven’t bought any new ones in a while.” he shrugged. 

“Let’s see what you’ve picked, then.” she reached out, “I promise I won’t judge – at least, not to your face anyway.” 

“Fair enough. I’ll take my chances.” he leaned forward on the counter as he watched her inspect his choices. 

“Hey this is good one- Unknown Pleasures.” 

“Yeah? I’ve heard a couple songs, y’know on the radio and stuff. Thought I’d give it a proper go.” he pulled down the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, toying with a loose thread as he spoke to her, “What about this one? You listened to it?” 

She turned the album over in her hands, poring over the track list on the back. She frowned and shook her head. 

“I haven’t actually. Heard of it, but never gave it a listen.” she totted up his total as she spoken to him, “You’ll have to let me know if it’s worth a listen. 

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small pile of coins, dropping them into her outstretched palm as he counted them.  

“It’s been nice speaking to you.” he smiled sincerely at her, “Oh, and thanks again for the coffee.”  

“No worries at all. It’s nice having someone to chat to on slow days like today.” she glanced up at him and she put his money into the till, “Thanks for not spilling it all over the albums.”  

He grinned as he took the bag of records and headed towards the door, pausing momentarily to shrug his jacket back on. With one last nod in her direction, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the rain, the shop once again settling into its quiet rhythm. 

A few weeks later, the weather had shifted from the relentless rain to a drearier drizzle. Inside, Y/N was immersed in sorting out a new batch of records behind the counter, the crackle of vinyl playing softly in the background. 

The familiar jingle of the doorbell caught her attention and she smiled to herself when she saw who it was. 

“Back already?” she grinned.  

“Couldn’t stay away apparently.” he stepped inside, shaking the rain from his umbrella and looking around with an appreciative nod, “I was just passing actually, thought I’d stop by and see what’s new.” 

This time, he looked more prepared for the weather, sliding his umbrella into the stand by the door. His hair was now tousled in a more deliberate way, though the sense of casual coolness in his clothes remained. 

“You’ve got great timing.” 

He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically, walking over to where she stood at the counter. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. We just got a delivery this morning. I’m just sorting through it if you want to take a look?” 

He nodded and moved to stand opposite her, resting his elbows on the wooden countertop. As he leaned in, his eyes focused on the box of records, his fingers lightly brushing over the album covers. 

He began to sift through the records, carefully flipping through the albums. As he examined each one, the two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation flowing easily. Every so often, they would both reach for a record at the same time, their fingers brushing against each other's. Each time, he would glance up with a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing slightly as he mumbled an apology.  

“I didn’t catch your name last time.” Y/N said, filling the silence, “I feel a bit rude not knowing it.” 

“Remus.” he looked up, eyes locking with hers, “and yours?” 

She smiled and pointed to the name badge pinned to her t-shirt. His cheeks tinged pink again and he quickly looked down at the album in his hands and then back to her. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m an idiot.” he laughed, “I should’ve noticed that.”  

She laughed softly, waving off his embarrassment, “You’re fine, don’t worry,” she said, her tone reassuring, then with a nod towards the album in his hands, she asked, “Any of them catch your eye?” 

They spent the next half an hour deeply immersed in a spirited discussion about music, bouncing from one artist to another. Remus’s enthusiasm was palpable; he could have spent hours delving into the intricacies of his favourite albums. His passion was evident in the way that he spoke, animated and engaged. He had taken to leaning forward, his forearms resting on the counter as he spoke to her.  

Eventually, he glanced up at the old clock hanging on the wall and realised how late it had gotten, “I should probably get going.” he said, reluctantly straightening up, “It’s been great talking music with you, though. Thanks for all the recommendations.” 

“Anytime. Small price to pay for having someone to talk to on a quiet shift.” she smiled, sliding the album he had bought into a bag. 

Remus came to the record store more and more often over the following months. They had settled into a familiar routine, discussing the merits of the latest addition to his collection and conversing about different genres and artists. Over the months, he had collected a plethora of albums: Ramones, David Bowie, The Cure, Fleetwood Mac, Joy Division. Anything that she recommended, he would buy and the next time he stopped by they would have a lengthy discussion about it. Remus found himself visiting the shop more often and Y/N found herself looking forward to his unplanned but always promised visits. 

One afternoon, they were having a fairly heated discussion. Y/N had hoisted herself up on the counter behind the till, and Remus was leaning forward, propped up on his elbows on the counter facing her.  

“I mean, you can’t deny the impact of Three Imaginary Boys,” Remus said, “It’s got that sort of gritty edge that you don’t get in their later stuff.” 

Y/N shook her head, her eyes sparkling with conviction, “I get that, but sometimes it’s not about the sound it’s about how the music makes you feel. With their later stuff it’s like they took all of that energy and polished it and made it into something great.” 

Remus raised an eyebrow, the scar across his lip stretching as he smirked, “Are you saying that because you think its natural progression, or just because you’re a fan of their later stuff?” 

“Both.” she replied with a grin. 

Their voices were animated, the shop’s usual quiet atmosphere was replaced with the lively exchange, each of them passionately defending their point with the occasional joking jab to the other.  

As the conversation continued, Y/N shifted her position slightly, causing a stack of records to wobble precariously. Remus’s lanky frame stretch across the counter, straining to try and steady them. Their hands brushed briefly, lingering for a moment longer than usual. They exchanged a quick, knowing glance before returning to their previous positions. 

“Do you want to go out for a drink or something sometime?” Remus blurted the words out before he even realised what he was saying. 

Y/N paused, her eyes widening slightly as she processed the sudden, unexpected offer. Remus’s face flushed a deep shade of red, and he fumbled with the album he was holding, suddenly very interested in the cover. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he stammered, feeling a wave of embarrassment, “I just thought it might be nice to hang out outside the shop, y’know, when you’re not working and being paid to talk music with me.” 

Y/N smiled at his nervous rambling, “I’d like that. It sounds like a lot of fun.” 

Relief washed over Remus, and he looked up, meeting her eyes with a hopeful grin, “Really? Brilliant. I wasn’t sure if it was too forward or-” 

“No, not at all.” she cut off his worry before he could spiral, “Friday?” 

Friday afternoon arrived faster than Remus had anticipated, and by the time he reached the bar, his nerves had crept back in. The bar was warm and dimly lit, with old wooden beams and music humming from a jukebox tucked in the corner. As he stepped inside, he scanned the room and spotted Y/N almost immediately. She was seated near the window, her fingers drumming against the scrubbed wooden table as she stared out of the window. 

“Sorry, I’m late. The rain-” he wiped his palms nervously against his jeans. 

“You’re not late, don’t worry. I’m early if anything.” she gestured to the seat opposite her, inviting him to sit down. 

Relieved, Remus nodded and slipped into the chair, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit, “Good, I was worried I’d kept you waiting.” 

“Not at all.” she assured him, “Besides, it gave me time to order us some drinks.” She gestured to the table, where two glasses awaited, “I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of choosing something for us.” 

It was strange seeing him outside the context of the record store. The casual way he carried himself was different from his usual, more reserved demeanour. As he picked up his drink to take a sip, Y/N’s eyes drifted up to the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. 

“S’a nervous habit.” he said, catching her looking and smiling ruefully. 

“So,” Y/N started, leaning in slightly with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Are you prepared to defend all your music opinions tonight, or are we calling a truce?” 

Remus laughed, “I didn’t come here unarmed, but I’ll call a truce—for now.” 

He glanced over at the jukebox in the corner, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, sliding them across the table to Y/N with a playful grin.  

“Here.” he said, “Why don’t you go and pick something? I’m pretty sure that we’ve just heard the same two songs on loop. Unless, of course, you have a soft spot for cheesy ballads?” 

“Please, I’ve got better taste than that.” she raised an eyebrow as she took the coins, “Although the thought of making you sit through Total Eclipse of the Heart isn’t entirely unappealing.” 

Remus chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he watched her stand, “I’ll be on my best behaviour then,” he replied, “No one deserves that kind of torture.” 

Y/N made her way to the jukebox, scanning the selection, taking her time as she pondered her choices. After a moment, she made her pick and returned to the table with a triumphant smile. 

“Your ears are safe for now,” she said, sliding back into her seat, “I went with something a little less torturous.” 

“You always get bonus points for Bowie,” Remus smiled, looking at her over the top of his glass, “Good call.” 

Y/N’s knee bumped against Remus’s as she shifted in her seat. Instead of immediately pulling away, Remus remained still, their legs pressed together. The contact lingered as Y/N glanced at him, her cheeks warming slightly. She could feel the gentle pressure of his leg against hers and the warmth it brought. 

Remus looked over at her, his gaze soft and a bit uncertain. He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he allowed himself to relax into the contact. 

As the evening continued, their closeness remained, the subtle touch of their legs became a quiet reminder of the connection they were building. Each time one of them would go up to put a song on the jukebox, the small movement seemed almost rehearsed. They would slip back into their seat, their legs resuming their previous position almost instinctively.  

“I think we’ve exhausted every good song on the jukebox.” Y/N noted an hour or so later, returning to the table once again.  

“I thought the exact same thing-” his voice trailed off as the song that began playing caught his ear, “You promised no cheesy ballads!”  

Y/N held her hands up in mock surrender, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I never promised.” she said, leaning in slightly, “I just couldn’t help winding you up a bit.” 

“I should have known better.” Remus shook his head jokingly, “And I’ve ran out of change so I can’t put something else on.” 

“You’re joking.” Y/N’s eyes widened, “I just used the last of mine as well. I refuse to let Total Eclipse of the Heart be the last song we hear tonight.”  

Y/N drained the last of her drink her eyebrows knitting together as she thought. Remus fidgeted in his seat, reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before the words finally came out. 

“Why don’t you come back to mine?” 

The words hung in the air for a moment, both of them surprised by his sudden boldness. He quickly added, “I mean, only if you want to. I don’t know if you know this but I have a pretty good record collection.” he let out a shaky laugh. 

“Oh, yeah?” she leaned forward a little, eyes sparkling, “I wonder where you got those from.” 

As they walked, Remus began to explain, almost apologetically, that he shared his place with two friends. He spoke casually, describing the flat as small and a bit cluttered. His tone was slightly self-deprecating as he mentioned the occasional mess, but he assured her that it wasn’t too chaotic.  

“Luckily they’re out tonight, at a party of something.” he mused, “otherwise they’d talk your ear off as soon as you stepped through the door.” 

“Are you not a party kind of person then?”  

“Absolutely not.” Remus dug around in his pocket for his keys, retrieving them with a jingle and unlocked the door. Remus ushered her up the stairs almost immediately. 

“Would’ve made them tidy up downstairs if I had planned this properly.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “At least I know that my room is somewhat clean.” 

Y/N smiled at him reassuringly, following him into his bedroom. She didn’t know Remus all too well, but his room was the pure essence of him. His bed was pushed up against one wall, a cosy mess of sheets and blankets, a wooden bedside table sat proudly beside it, a stack of books perched precariously on top.  

Y/N made a beeline for the record player that sat in the corner of the room, two boxes of records placed on the floor beside it.  

“Mind if I put something on?” she asked, beginning to flick through the albums before he could answer. 

“Go for it,” he smiled, “I’ll go get us a drink while you choose.” 

Remus’s heart was racing a little as he walked down to the kitchen. She was in his room and he didn’t know what to do. He was so comfortable around her in the confines of the record shop, but now she was here, in his space, looking through his records and smiling at him in a way that made his heart melt. 

“Pull yourself together, idiot.” he muttered as he crossed to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer.  

When Remus came back into the room, bottles in hand, he couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. Y/N was sat cross legged on the floor, completely absorbed in the albums she had spread out around her. A pile of records rested in her lap as she sifted through them, occasionally pausing to inspect a cover or read the tracklist on the back. The warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table cast a soft glow over the scene, making everything feel somehow more intimate and familiar.  

He cleared his throat softly, handing her one of the beers as he sat down on the floor next to her, trying to mask the nervous energy still buzzing in his chest. 

“You’ve got a pretty solid collection her,” she said, raising her bottle in appreciation. 

“Thanks.” he replied with a slight chuckle, though he knew most of those records had come from her recommendations. 

She slid one of the records from its sleeve, glancing at him briefly before getting up to place it on the turntable. The needle dropped, and soon enough, the low hum of music filled the room, ground the quiet tension between them. 

As she sat back down, their knees brushed again, but this time, neither of them pulled away. Instead, they both stayed in the easy closeness. Y/N turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, catching him staring at her. He quickly looked away, a soft blush creeping up his neck. She smiled to herself, leaning back on her hands. 

“Y’know you have a couple of doubles?” she said after a moment. 

“Hm?” Remus blinked, looking over at her. 

“Yeah.” she grinned, holding up two identical copies of Lonon Calling, “When I was looking through, I noticed you’ve got quite a few albums twice. D’you keep spares or something?” 

Remus let out a nervous laugh, rubbing a hand across his face, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, “Yeah, uh.. About that.” 

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “What? You just really love The Clash?” 

He sighed, giving her a sheepish look, “Not exactly. I, uh... ran out of records I wanted to buy.” 

“So, you just bought the same ones again?” her brows furrowed together. 

“I didn’t want to stop coming in.” Remus’s gaze was fixed on the floor. 

Her smile softened as the meaning behind his words sank in, “You didn’t want to stop coming in?” she repeated, her tone teasing but gentle.  

Remus nodded, eyes still on the floor as if he wished it would just swallow him whole, “Yeah. I mean, the records were a good excuse, but.. It was more about seeing you.” 

Y/Nfelt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t been expecting him to admit it so openly, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, trying to ease the tension. 

“You could’ve just said you wanted to see me, y’know. Would’ve saved you some money.” she teased.  

He let out a shaky laugh, finally looking up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, well, hindsight’s a wonderful thing.”  

“Well, for the record,” she held up one of his albums playfully, “You didn’t need a reason to come back. I would’ve liked seeing you anyway.” 

Remus blinked, surprised by the ease with which she said it, ��Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” her voice was softer, almost shy now, “I thought that was obvious.” 

They stayed there in the quiet for a moment, their legs still touching, the air between them thick with something unspoken.  

“Don’t supposed you kept your receipts?” Y/N turned to face him. 

He laughed, shaking his head, “Nah. I wasn’t exactly thinking that far ahead.” 

Without thinking, Y/N leaned in, and Remus found himself tilting his head slightly to meet her halfway. Their lips brushed together softly at first, one of Remus’s hands trailing up to cup the side of her face in his hand. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, breathless smiles lighting up their faces. 

“You’re a bit of an idiot, y’know that?” she teased. 

“Yeah... probably.” he just smiled and kissed her again. 

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[pinkcutiepiee]

hugging remus lupin headcanons<3

masterlist

i had older!remus in mind for this, but you can imagine it with marauders!remus if you like<3

remus lupin my beloved, one of my biggest comfort characters :( honestly all i want in life is a hug from him :(

okay so i feel like remus is always warm, but not an uncomfortable warm, if that makes sense?

nethertheless, he gives such good hugs, especially since he is likely much taller than yourself, it feels as if he has envoloped in his body, protecting you from any danger

even if you are similar heights, you can't help but to feel safe in his arms

loves to give hugs when you're upset, or stressed, letting you cry it out if needed

seeks you out specifically when he needs a hug.

will rock you back and forth as he hugs you, running his hand through your hair, asking about your day

no matter if your relationship is romantic or platonic, he will kiss the top of your head as he holds you close

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Oversensitive

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Your body sometimes overreacts to touch, telling you it hurts when it doesn't. So when it happens while Sirius is kissing you, you ignore it. This doesn't go over too well. Warnings: Chronic pain Series Masterlist

The fire crackles in the corner of your room, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The soft glow fills you with warmth, contrasting against the chill that seeps through the windowpanes from the night outside.

You are safe here, surrounded by the boys who have become so much more than friends to you—Sirius, Remus, and James. They've been your sanctuary in a stormy world, their love an anchor when everything else seemed intent on tearing you away.

"You're beautiful," Sirius murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he hovers over you. His grey eyes meet yours, filled with mischief and something deeper—a rawness that makes your heart race.  

"Flatterer," you tease, but your breath catches as he leans down, mere inches separating his lips from yours.

Remus is there too, sitting by your side, one hand resting lightly on your waist. His presence is quieter, steadier—but no less intoxicating. Where Sirius is the flame, daring and unpredictable, Remus is the embers, burning slow and steady underneath.

His thumb traces small circles on your skin, grounding you even as Sirius stirs up a whirlwind inside your chest. Every now and then, Remus leans over to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder or brush his fingers along your arm, sending shivers coursing through your veins despite the heat of the fire nearby.

There's a tension in the air—one that has built slowly throughout the evening, thickening until it feels almost tangible. It wraps around you all, binding you together in anticipation of what's to come.

Your heart pounds as Sirius closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His hands roam your body, fingertips tracing paths that set your skin aflame. There's an urgency to his touch tonight, a fervor that mirrors the wild look in his eyes.

"Easy, Padfoot," Remus murmurs from beside you, his tone a mix of amusement and concern. But Sirius only grins against your skin before pressing a kiss to the hollow of your throat.

The sensation is exquisite—the roughness of his stubble scraping slightly against your sensitive flesh, the heat of his mouth searing a path down towards your collarbone. It's intoxicating, overwhelming, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the rhythm of your own heartbeat thundering in your ears.

But then, without warning, something changes. What was once pleasure begins to twist into discomfort under Sirius's touch. You try to ignore it at first, blaming it on the awkward angle or perhaps a muscle pulled too taut. But as he shifts above you, his hands gripping your sides just a bit too tightly, pain slices through you like a shard of ice.

You gasp, the sound barely audible over the crackle of the fire and the rushing blood in your ears. His weight pins you to the bed, each breath sending another jolt of agony radiating from your ribs. The room seems to spin around you, your vision blurring with tears that threaten to spill over.

Yet you remain silent, biting back the cry that claws its way up your throat. This isn't how it's supposed to be, but admitting it feels like surrendering to weakness. And more than anything, you don't want to ruin this moment, to see the guilt etched onto Sirius's face or the worry clouding Remus's eyes. It's not their fault that your body is oversensitive sometimes, and if you ignore it long enough, it tends to go away.

"Something's not right," Remus murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans closer to you. His hand hesitates at the edge of your shirt, fingertips brushing against the exposed skin there.

His touch is a stark contrast to Sirius's, light and cautious where the other is insistent. You feel the tension coil tighter within you, a knot of apprehension growing with each passing second.

Remus's fingers trace along the curve of your waist, moving so slowly it's almost maddening. He seems to be searching for something—any sign that might explain what's wrong—but all he finds is the rigid line of your body beneath him.

His brow furrows, lips pressing into a thin line as realization dawns. "You're tense," he says, words measured and careful as though afraid they might shatter the fragile silence that has fallen.

Sirius pulls back from your neck, teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that sends jolts of pleasure shooting through you. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his stormy gaze. A small smile plays at the corners of your mouth—a silent plea for him to continue—and he obliges, leaning back in to capture your lips once more.

Across the room, James sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are half-closed, a lazy grin playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of you and the others. There's an air of contentment about him, a sense of satisfaction that comes from seeing his friends happy.

He's not partaking in the moment, not physically at least, but his presence is felt nonetheless. It's in the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, in the subtle shift of his body as he leans back in his chair, comfortable and relaxed amidst the chaos.

But even in his state of repose, James isn't blind to the changes unfolding before him. The faint crease between your brows, the quick intake of breath as Sirius shifts atop you, his hand sliding under your shirt—it doesn't take much for him to put the pieces together.

"Kiss me," you breathe, a plea more than a command. And Sirius does, his lips finding yours with an urgency that leaves no room for thought.

His hands roam your body, tracing paths of desire and need that have been left untouched for too long. Yet as the pressure increases, so too does the pain in your ribs—a sharp reminder of reality's cruel hand.

You gasp against Sirius's mouth, not out of pleasure but discomfort. He freezes above you, pulling back slightly to search your face for signs of distress. "Are you alright?" he asks, concern seeping into his voice.

"I'm fine." You force a smile, willing yourself to ignore the throbbing pain radiating from your side. "Just... be gentle."

But even as you say the words, it's clear something isn't right. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and your body remains rigid beneath Sirius's touch—not relaxed as it should be, but tense and on edge.

Remus catches the slight hesitation in your voice, the strained expression that flickers across your face before you can hide it away. His brow furrows, worry lines deepening as he watches you closely. Something is wrong—that much is obvious—but what?

Without saying a word, Remus extends a hand, placing it gently on Sirius's arm. It's a silent gesture, communicating unspoken concern through the simple act of touch. For a moment, Sirius hesitates, confusion etched onto his features. Then he turns to look at you once more, really look, and sees it—the strain around your eyes, the tightness of your jaw.

There's a long pause, a heavy silence filled with unasked questions and unsaid apologies. The air between you three seems to thicken, tension building like a storm ready to break. But when it does, it's not with thunderous anger or regretful tears; instead, it's with quiet acceptance and understanding.

"I think we should stop," Remus says finally, breaking the silence that has settled. His voice is soft, barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. But its impact is immediate, cutting through the fog of desire that had clouded your judgment.

Sirius pulls away, sitting back on his heels. His grey eyes are dark with concern and something else—guilt, perhaps? But there's no time to dwell on that now. All that matters is the pain coursing through your body, a stark contrast to the warmth that had enveloped you moments ago.

"You're hurting," Remus states, though it sounds more like a question—an attempt to understand what went wrong.

The shift in the room is almost palpable, the playful energy from moments ago dissipating like smoke. It's replaced by a heaviness that settles over you all, thick and suffocating.

"No," you protest weakly, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "I'm fine, really." But your words fall flat against the silence, overshadowed by the grimace of pain that contorts your features.

"You're not fine," James murmurs, standing abruptly from his chair. He crosses the room in two long strides, stopping just short of the bed. His glasses sit askew on his nose, but he makes no move to adjust them. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you, studying each nuance of your expression with an intensity that leaves little room for doubt.

"Y/N," Sirius's voice is hesitant, filled with an uncertainty you've rarely heard before. His usual bravado is gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable. He takes a step closer, each movement measured and deliberate. "I'm... I'm sorry."

His apology hangs heavy in the air, laced with sincerity and guilt. You can see it in the way his shoulders slump, the way his gaze flits away. This isn't the Sirius Black who charges headfirst into danger, laughing in the face of fear. This is someone else entirely—a boy stripped bare of arrogance, haunted by the consequences of his actions.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." The words come out choked, as if every syllable causes him physical pain. "I got carried away, didn't realise how much..."

"It's not a big deal," you insist, though the strain in your voice betrays the truth of your pain.

But to them—to Sirius, Remus, and James—it is a big deal. They see through your brave facade, recognizing the discomfort that lingers behind each forced smile. Their worry hangs heavy in the air, a silent testament to their concern for you.

"You don't need to downplay it, Y/N," Remus finally speaks up, his voice soft yet firm amidst the tension. "We can all see you're in pain."

You open your mouth, ready to argue back, but his words resonate with a truth you've been trying to ignore. He's right; denying the obvious isn't helping anyone, least of all you.

"Well... maybe just a little sore," you admit, shifting slightly under the weight of their gazes.

"You should've said." His hand squeezes your shoulder gently, offering a small measure of comfort. "You don't have to pretend otherwise."

The room falls silent again as they digest Remus' words—simple and true. It's easy to forget sometimes, amid all the chaos and bravado, that you are allowed to feel, to show vulnerability. Especially now, while pain still throbs at your side, a harsh reminder of the line between fun and recklessness.

James moves then, uncrossing his arms to reach out towards you. His fingers brush against yours tentatively before he takes your hand into his own—a silent vow of support. The warmth seeping from his touch seems to dull the ache, if only for a moment.

"Remus is right," he says, looking straight into your eyes. There's an intensity in his gaze, a spark of determination flickering beneath the surface. "Your health comes first, Y/N. Always."

"But I—" you start, preparing another feeble protest.

"No buts," he interrupts, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "We care about you too much to let this go."

"Y/N," Sirius's voice is a whisper now, shaky and raw. "I... I really didn't know what I was doing. I'm sorry."

The air in the room grows heavy with those words—words that don't come easily to someone like Sirius Black, who always appears so sure of himself.

"I've got you," James reassures softly, his grip on your hand firm yet gentle. "Just breathe."

His voice is an anchor amidst the storm of pain surging through your body—a constant pull back towards reality. You squeeze your eyes shut as another wave hits, gritting your teeth against the sharp sting. When it recedes, leaving only a dull ache in its wake, you let out a shaky breath.

Your gaze flits over to where Sirius stands, his face pale. He's silent, his eyes never straying from your form. There's something fragile lurking just beneath the surface of his usual bravado. It's disconcerting, seeing him this way: unsure, hesitant, vulnerable.

He takes a step forward, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. His touch is feather-light, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless—not from fear or discomfort, but from the sheer intensity of his concern.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs again, voice barely above a whisper. "Merlin, baby, I'm so sorry."

You want to reassure him, to ease the guilt etched across his features, but your words catch in your throat. Instead, you offer him a weak smile, hoping it conveys everything you can't seem to say aloud.

He doesn't return the gesture, his expression remaining sombre as he pulls away, settling back into his previous position at the foot of your bed. The distance between you feels insurmountable despite the small size of the room, each inch amplifying the heaviness of the silence that follows.

"Here," Remus' voice cuts through the quiet, drawing your attention away from Sirius. He holds out a glass filled with a water and offers an encouraging nod when you hesitate. "Drink."

With James' help, you manage to sit up enough to take a few tentative sips, the coolness soothing your parched throat. As you lean back against the pillows, exhaustion seeps into your bones, making every movement feel like a monumental effort.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, more from relief than anything else. For the first time since waking up, you allow yourself to relax, eyelids growing heavy as you sink further into the mattress.

"You should have been more careful," James says to Sirius after a moment, breaking the silence that has settled once again. His fingers trace idle patterns on the back of your hand, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil.

"You're right," Sirius agrees, his voice hoarse. "I shouldn't have pushed her so hard."

There's a finality to his words, a promise veiled beneath layers of regret. He won't let this happen again—you can hear it in the slight tremble of his voice, see it in the set of his jaw.

Remus remains silent, though his agreement is evident in the subtle nod of his head. His gaze stays fixed on you, thoughtful and intense, as if trying to decipher the complex emotions flickering across your face.

A part of you wants to protest—to argue that you were equally responsible for the events leading up to this moment—but fatigue clings to your limbs, and the thought of engaging in any sort of debate seems far too daunting.

The air in the room shifts, heavy with unspoken words and lingering guilt. The boys gather around you, their touches gentle as they adjust your position on the bed, making sure you're comfortable. Their faces are masks of concern, eyes darting to each other before settling back onto you.

Gone is the playful banter, the heated exchanges that had filled the space only moments ago. Now there's just this—a quiet tenderness that wraps around you like a blanket, warming places inside you didn't realise had gone cold.

"Is there anything you need?" Remus asks, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. His touch is grounding, a steady presence amidst the whirlwind of emotions churning within.

"No," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just... just stay."

They nod, understanding passing between them without a word spoken. And so they remain, clustered around your bed like sentinels, their focus solely on you.

As the minutes tick by, the tension gradually eases from your body, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion that tugs at your eyelids. You fight against it, not ready to surrender to sleep—not yet—but it's a losing battle. Your eyes flutter shut, and despite the pain still throbbing faintly in the background, you feel safe.

Safe because you know they'll be there when you wake up—just as they've always been, watching over you even when you don't realise it. Safe because no matter how much they push and prod, challenge and provoke, they will always put you first, always keep you out of harm's way.

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 10

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, swearing, hospital, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt. 9

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

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“Moony, have you eaten yet?” Her dark head pokes around the corner, framed by the untidy soft curls that he’d always longed to push back from her face. “It’s nearly three.”

He rests his burning eyes on his hands, groaning. “It is?”

She perches on the edge of his desk and leans forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it is. Did you have lunch?”

Remus grimaces. “Forgot.”

Amberly sighs. “You need to eat, love.”

Her hands find their familiar spot in his hair and he pulls her into him by the waist, savoring the smell of lavender that’s imbued in her clothes and skin. “Thanks for checking on me.”

She nuzzles into his shoulder. “Of course.”

She was so warm. She’d always been warm, everything from those chocolate-colored eyes to her pale, gentle hands that had always been able to soothe his scars and wounds and fears. Her smile melted him like spring sunlight on stubborn snow.

Amberly stroked the back of his head. “It’s okay, Moony.”

He chucked a piece of crumpled paper across the room, fists clenched. “I should have gotten better than that”-

“You did the best you could, right? It’s not like you didn’t try.” Her big brown eyes are wide with concern.

“It wasn’t enough,” he spits, chest heaving. “I wasn’t enough.”

Amberly touches his shoulder and he collapses next to her on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. “You’re always enough, Remus. No matter what.”

A sob shakes his shoulders and he clings to her, tears soaking her jumper, as her fingers card through his hair. 

Icy tears are soaking Remus’ ears and pillow.

He’s been staring at the same blue-washed ceiling for hours now, unable to move or sleep or think anything other than the same four words that have been repeating mindlessly in his brain all day.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

If Amberly were here right now, she’d use her thumb to wipe his tears away and kiss the spots where they had been. She’d snuggle right up next to him and rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d wake during the night to find her in the exact same position, clinging to him with her soft curls draped over her face. 

Once, Sirius had joked that sleeping with Amberly when she stayed the night must be like sleeping with a very large and very affectionate Venus flytrap. Remus had laughed as warmth flooded his bones and Amberly blushed next to him.

Now he doesn’t think she’ll ever look at him, much less hug him, again.

If she’s even here at all-

The thought hits him like a punch in the gut and he doubles up as a raw sob rends his chest in half. 

No more holding hands on the way to the bakery in the mornings. No more sleepy cuddles on the battered living room couch. No more back and neck rubs by the light of the fireplace in the evening. No more random animal and math facts exchanged over lunch, or cheesy cat memes sent over text at all hours of the day. 

All of that would be gone.

The added thought of and it’s all my fault wraps iron fingers of guilt around Remus’ ribs and squeezes. He buries his face in his hands as tears pour down his face, more tears than he believed possible after all the crying he’s been doing.

You did this to her. You pushed her away. Over and over again, after all she tried to do was help. You were a complete and utter prick to the one person who loved you more than she loved herself. 

Merlin, she’d do anything for me. Did do anything for me. Countless visions of keeping her waiting, of her making him his favorite food even when she was tired, of those brown eyes being exhausted and drained because of him. But always, always so warm and full of love and that he felt like he was coming home every time he saw her face.

Until now. 

Remus chokes back another sob.

The hospital gave him a room on the first floor, down the hall from Amberly. Apparently it was the “least they could do” after the state he’d been in when he saw her. He’d collapsed to his knees on the floor as the sheer force of what he’d done hit him. Sirius- who’d still been very close to punching his face in- had had to drag him out as the doctor watched impassively. 

Down the hall.

She’s just down the hall. 

His feet are on the ground before he knows it and he’s padding noiselessly down the white, blue-lit corridor. An eerie silence permeates everything. The narrow windows in front of the doors are dark and silent. No one is awake at two forty-three a.m.

Her room.

Her door.

Her bed.

Her-

Remus feels fresh tears pour down his face and he sinks onto the chair at the side of the bed. 

She’s still, so still. Her face is paler than ever against the sterile white of the hospital sheets. Her eyes are deeply shadowed, and she’s breathing so faintly that the blue quilt is hardly moving. Her hair is spread across the pillow like it’s melting into the night, barely discernible in the dimness of the room.

He takes her hand. He can’t remember the last time they held hands, not the way they’d used to. Fingers interlocked, warm and sure, the one single guarantee out of everything in this life that he’d loved and loved and loved.

Amberly stirs. 

His lips part as he turns towards her, shocked; her eyes flutter open and fix on him.

He can’t tell what she’s thinking. He can’t read her expression at all, and as he opens his mouth to croak out a I’msosorryIloveyoupleasedon’tleavemepleasepleaseplease-

“You’re not Remus.”

Her voice is soft, almost disappointed. There’s an odd note of resignation in it that strikes Remus to the core. 

He clears his throat and tries to keep the tears out of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting slightly in the bed. Her cast rustles against the covers. “He wouldn’t have come.” Her eyes close again.

Remus’ throat closes up at the note of assurance in her voice. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Amberly mumbles. “Busy. He’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” she breathes. “I think I should leave him alone. He doesn’t like when I help.” A tiny bit more alertness returns to her eyes and she gazes at him in the dark. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Remus manages to choke out. “It’s not.”

Her eyes are luminous in the dark. “It is. It’s why I have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop”- Her voice is getting breathy and quiet as she sinks back down into sleep. “Stop caring.”

Then she’s asleep again and tears pour down Remus’ face as her hands goes limp and slowly, slowly slides away from his. 

[trixisbored]

Through the Quiet Moments (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You've always admired Remus Lupin from a distance. Now, a Herbology project gives you the opportunity to work alongside him, but beneath his quiet demeanor, there's a vulnerability he's hesitant to reveal. In the stillness of the library, you begin to unravel the guarded boy you've always wanted to know.

Word Count: 1,070

You’ve always admired Remus Lupin from afar. His quiet nature despite hanging out with the mischievous Marauders, the scars that complement his face beautifully, but despite all of that, what intrigued you most was the distance he kept from others, even when surrounded by friends.

Recently, you were partnered with him for a project in Herbology. Despite the happiness you felt at the chance to get to know him, an unsettling feeling twisted in your gut. What if he found you annoying? God, you didn’t even want to entertain that thought.

Remus had asked you to meet him in the library to start the project. As you made your way there, your thoughts wandered. Would he share his favorite books with you? He always had one in his hands, and you longed to know what stories captured his attention. You stopped abruptly in front of the library doors and took a deep breath before entering.

You spotted him immediately. Gods, he was angelic. He was sitting at a table, staring out the window with his head in his hands. He looked so at ease, wrapped up in one of his oversized grandpa sweaters, cozy among the stacks of books. You couldn’t help but stare.

Remus was sitting at one of the furthest tables in the library, his favorite spot, which overlooked the castle grounds. The sun shone in, casting a warming glow across the table and the books scattered on it. He admired moments like this—small, simple things that no one else seemed to notice. But despite the beauty around him, he sighed. The full moon was in a couple of days, and already he felt restless. He didn’t want to do the project today.

When he turned around, his eyes found you standing there, looking right at him. He waved gently, beckoning you to come over.

“Hello there,” he mumbled softly, his voice warm but quiet. His eyes, though tired, softened at the sight of you.

You swallowed hard, nerves twisting in your stomach as you approached. The library was so still, you feared your footsteps were too loud. When you pulled the chair out, it scraped against the stone floor, producing an irritating sound that made you wince slightly. Remus didn’t react. He seemed lost in thought, his stare distant.

The golden sunlight spilled across his face, highlighting the scars you had always found fascinating—jagged, yet oddly beautiful, as though they told a story of quiet resilience. There was something tense about the way he held himself, though. To anyone else, he might’ve looked merely bored, but you sensed the weight behind his silence, an invisible wall keeping him guarded.

You slid into the seat across from him, whispering, “I hope I’m not too late.”

Remus shook his head gently. “No, you're right on time,” he said, a small smile flickering across his lips. But it didn’t reach his eyes. He glanced briefly at the book in front of him, fingers absentmindedly tracing the spine. “I figured we could get started on the Herbology project… unless you’d rather do something else.”

Caught off guard by the question, you chuckled softly. “Like what?”

He shrugged, still avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know. We could talk about… other things. If you want. If not, we can just do the work.” His voice was careful, almost hesitant, like he was testing the waters.

Your heart fluttered at the thought that he might want to get to know you. You leaned forward slightly, seizing the opportunity. “Well, I’ve always been curious,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “You always have a book with you. Do you have a favorite?”

At this, Remus finally looked up, meeting your gaze fully. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn’t expected you to notice or care about such a small detail of his life. “A favorite?” he repeated, and a shadow of a smile ghosted his lips. “That’s hard to say… but I suppose The Hobbit would be one. I read it when I was younger.”

You smiled warmly. “That sounds fun. I haven’t read it, but I’ve heard about it. Do you like adventure stories?”

He nodded, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the page. “Adventure, yes. But also stories about people who aren’t heroes in the traditional sense. I like books about characters who struggle, who aren’t perfect but still find a way to keep going.” His voice dropped slightly, eyes flickering back to the table. There was a deeper meaning behind his words, as though he was talking about more than just fictional characters.

For a moment, silence settled between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with unspoken things. The golden light felt warmer, and somewhere in the distance, you heard the faint rustle of turning pages. Your heart thudded softly as you searched for the right words.

“I think those are the best kinds of stories,” you said after a beat. “The ones where the characters are real. They make mistakes, but they keep going. They never give up.”

Remus glanced at you from beneath his lashes, his expression unreadable. But then, a small, genuine smile broke through. “Yeah. I think so too.”

For a brief moment, you felt like you’d broken through the walls he kept up, like you were starting to see more of the real Remus Lupin. You could sense his hesitancy, the fear of letting people in. But the way he looked at you now told you that maybe, just maybe, he was willing to let you in.

Still, an uneasiness lingered in him. His hand tapped against the table, and you noticed a faint tremor in his fingers. The project was forgotten between you, and instead, there was a growing sense of vulnerability. You felt his internal struggle—the desire to keep distance, but also the wish for someone to cross that boundary.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s just…”

He trailed off, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. The tension in his body grew more palpable, like he was caught between wanting to tell you and the fear of what that might mean. He sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. Whatever he was about to say, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy for him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you offered gently. “But… I want you to know that whatever it is, I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

For the first time, Remus looked startled. His eyes widened slightly, as if your words had caught him off guard. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face, and then—almost imperceptibly—he nodded.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. He hesitated before adding, “But… you might not feel that way once you know.”

Your heart clenched at the sadness in his tone, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you leaned in a little closer, hoping he could see the sincerity in your eyes.

“Try me,” you whispered.

And for the first time, Remus seemed to consider that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to face his burden alone.