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#remus lupin drabble
moonstruckme · 1 day
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hi!!! i love all ur marauders works they’re seriously so cute and i love how you write them!! idk if you’ve done this one already and if you have just ignore this lol but could you do remus having a nightmare and reader comforting him? ik you’ve done the reverse but i wanna know what he’s like lmao. i need to see more confer remus i can’t get enough
Thank you lovely <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
It’s already graying outside the window when you wake. Remus has been having some agitated nights lately, and the dim lighting of the bedroom lets you see that this has been another one. 
You’ve probably woken from the cold, all your sheets and blankets kicked mercilessly to the end of the bed. Remus’ face is twisted up tight, his hands twitching like they’re trying to grab for something, and he’s making soft, distressed little sounds that threaten to crack your heart clean in two. You hate to think how long he’s been like this without you waking. 
“Rem,” you start soft, reaching for his hand as you’ve learned to do. Touch his shoulder or any other part of him and he’s likely to wake jolting, your offending hand gripped cruelly by the wrist. Once, before you’d learned your lesson, he’d kicked himself fully out of bed from the start you gave him. You’d sat in the living room with a hot pack on his tailbone, murmuring apologies back and forth until the sun came up. 
You needle your fingers underneath his gently. “Remus, honey, you’re okay. You’re home.” His fingers twitch closer around yours, and you’re careful not to grab him back even though you want to, running the pads of your fingers down the length of his to loosen them. “You’re safe. You’re at home.” His eyes start to move faster behind his lids. “Rem.” 
That last whisper does it. He doesn’t startle, which is always a victory, but Remus still inhales sharply as he wakes. His muscles seize as though they mean to propel him somewhere, then relax shudderingly. 
You entwine your fingers with his, stay quiet. You know he knows you’re here but he won’t look at you just yet, hiding away the most frantic parts of himself before he’ll let himself turn towards you. You don’t love that he does it. You know better than to push him, though. It unnerves him worse when you try to jimmy your way into his thoughts while he’s still raw like this. 
“Sorry,” he says on an exhale. 
“Don’t be.” You start to stroke up his wrist, but Remus pulls his hand from yours, slipping out of bed and walking from the room. 
You tail him. This is part of your routine, too. You think he likes to give you the option of going back to sleep, though you can’t imagine he’d actually feel any better if you did. He’s fooling himself. (It’s okay; you’re a fool for him sometimes, too.) 
Remus isn’t surprised when you wrap your arms around his middle in the kitchen, resting your cheek against his back. He’s already got the kettle going. 
“How are you?” you ask, though you think you have some idea. He’s still trembling gently under your hands. 
“Alright.” He sets one hand over your two clasped around his front. “You should go back to sleep.” 
You almost smile at his predictability. Remus isn’t usually so stiff around you, but even he has admitted he reverts back to a younger, terser self when he’s feeling vulnerable. You could tell him that you’d have been waking up soon anyway, or that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew you’d left him like this, but you go with the truth that you know you’d want to hear. 
“I want to be with you,” you say simply. 
Remus turns in your arms, resting his lips on top of your head. “Thanks, dove.” 
You hum like For what? and step around him as the kettle finishes boiling, grabbing his favorite mug from the cabinet above. Remus lets you take care of him this little bit, but he doesn’t go to sit down in the living room until you’re headed that way too. 
You curl up against him on the couch, your knees tipped over his thighs while his legs bridge the gap between the sofa and the coffee table. He blows the steam off his mug. 
“Do you remember what the dream was about?” 
“Bits and pieces.” Remus’ voice is still a bit raspy with sleep, and you know exactly what he’s thinking when his lips twitch: you’ve told him more than a few times how attractive you find it like this. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about.” 
“Okay,” you say. You’re both speaking softly, like the house itself is still slumbering as morning creeps up on the outside world. After Remus’ nightmare, you imagine he appreciates the peace anyway.
He sighs, looking at you almost sheepishly. “Sorry I’ve been waking you so much lately.” 
“Sorry you’ve been sleeping so horribly lately,” you counter. 
Remus smiles ruefully. “I think it’s all this stuff going on at work. Rude of it to fuck with me even when I’m sleeping, though.” 
You hum, tracing a scar near his elbow with your finger. “I didn’t realize you were so stressed. I’m sorry.” 
“I’ve hardly realized it myself,” he admits. 
You frown, and Remus looks back into his mug, shying from your scrutiny. “Do you think it might help if we relaxed a bit more here?” you ask him. “We could start reading that book together again.” 
His eyes are soft when they meet yours, the color of honey and just as sweet. “That sounds really nice,” he says. 
You smile. It feels good to have a plan. “Hug?” you ask him. 
Remus sets down his tea to make room for you, and you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands spread out on your back, tentative at first and then firmer as you snuggle up to him. 
“I’ll make cheese toasties and soup tonight,” you say softly. Remus sounds almost like he could purr as you start playing with the hair at his nape. He gives your hips a little tug, getting you closer. “And we can read or watch something or do a puzzle, whatever you feel like when you get home. We could talk about the work stuff, if you wanted to.” You say this last part hesitantly, but Remus hums his approval. 
“You’re so good to me, do you know that?” 
You grin. “I do my best.” 
He huffs a laugh, the sound gruff and heart-squeezing. You lapse into a thin silence, each listening to the other breathe but feeling the beginning of the new day pressing at your windows. 
“We have some time before we’d normally start to get ready,” you try. “Want to stay like this for a bit?” 
“Yeah,” Remus sighs, settling his arms around you more securely. “Yeah, good idea.”
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luveline · 7 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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remus who needs to make eye contact with reader when talking bc she has his full attention but she tries averting her gaze and he’s Tall so he does that thing where he bends his head down/chases her eyes so they maintain contact
ugh this!!!!!!!! he definitely does this, so hot of him honestly. I didn’t do justice to your idea at all but I gave it a shot!!!
rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader
Remus gets off stage and he’s somehow a billion times hotter than he was two hours ago. It’s cruel. He’s the kind of handsome that begs to be looked at. You don’t blame his screaming fans. Not when you’d definitely be one of them if it weren’t for your lucky position of the bassists girlfriend.
“Hey,” Remus says, slinging his bass over his shoulder as he jogs towards you. His headset dangles around his neck, makeup smudged under his eyes and his hair in disarray, and yet he heads straight for you, brushing away a couple of techies who try to wave him down. He comes to a halt in front of you, still buzzing with onstage energy. “Can I hug you?”
“Yeah,” you nod, breathless and he’s only said a few words. He’s so handsome you can’t think straight. He hugs you hard, and you don’t even care that he’s sweating buckets. His arms cage you, strong and heavy, and he smells like sweat and musk, his cologne subtle but heady.
“You played amazing,” you tell him as his hands roam your back, one between your shoulder blades and another at the small of your back, pressing you in.
Remus pulls back, hot hands sliding to hold you by the shoulders. He squeezes you, calloused thumbs at your collar. He’s smiling so big you’re sure his cheeks hurt. “
“Cause I had my lucky charm,” he says, chucking you under the chin. “I’m so glad you came, pretty girl.”
Heat flares behind your cheeks. You can’t believe he’s real, can’t believe he’s this handsome and calling you pretty and telling you he’s glad you came to his show. As if you’d ever even think about being anywhere else tonight but here. You dip your head so you don’t have to look at his handsome face, opting instead for the dirty backstage floor.
“I’m glad I came too,” you mumble, toeing a rogue piece of confetti with the tip of your shoe.
Remus follows you down, bending to your height and tilting his head up so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. He’s gorgeous and he’s lovely and he’s so close you could kiss him.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” He asks, lips quirked, his mouth so close that his warm breath fans over your lips. “Can’t hear you when you get all shy like that.”
You groan. He’s awful. “I’m not shy,” you protest, though you are, especially with him. You stick your chin out in a show of fake confidence. “I said I’m glad I came too.”
Remus’ grins and thumbs your jaw, then cards a hand through his messy, sweaty hair. “Mm, I bet you are, sweetheart.”
You know he’s teasing. You don’t mind it as much as you should.
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ddejavvu · 4 months
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hi lovie! just had a thought of remus not being able to prepare the reader for him and going “deep breath, baby” cause this man has massive cock and that’s it
this post is 18+, minors dni.
"It's gonna hurt," Remus hums, low and sweet as he presses a kiss to your flushed cheek. It's hot with lust and exhilaration, and he noses at the other one while your stomach clenches in anticipation.
"I can take it," You vow, and you really mean it, even if Remus is convinced it'll take time. You've seen him before, and he's impressive to say the least, but you're aching and wet, and there's nothing you want more than to feel Remus's thick cock slip into your eager cunt.
"Relax," He warns you, keeping his face pressed to yours, breathing in tandem with you and brushing his lips against your nose from proximity alone, "Relax, dove, y'hear me?"
"I'm relaxed," You promise, forcing your muscles to un-tense themselves. You feel the head of his cock prod at your slit, although it doesn't offer much resistance until his full circumference breaches your hole. All at once it's too thick, too big, too much, and you tense up again, thighs and stomach and hands all clenched as you gasp in a breath of air.
"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," Remus coaches, stopping in his tracks, "Deep breath, baby, you're alright. We'll go slow."
"No, I can take it," You repeat, less confident this time, and nearly breathless, "Remus, I- I can take it."
"I know y'can," He croons, pressing another sticky warm kiss to your face, tucked between your nose and your cheek, "Just be patient, sweet thing. You can have it all, I promise. Just wanna make sure I'm not gonna rip you t'pieces, love."
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sinnersami · 5 months
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big dick remus :P
i just know remus’ cock is so thick and long, he always has to prep your pussy before fucking you.
he’d mutter reassuring words in your ear, telling you to be patient and wait til you were loose enough for him. first, he would start with his fingers; teasing your clit and edging the rim of his middle finger inside your hole.
you’d bite your lips at him entering you, his lips moving to kiss your neck and keep you distracted. “my baby’s so tight.” his words were so soft spoken but also sounded so dirty coming from his mouth.
humming in response, you clenched around his digit while his ring and index fingers moved to smear your wetness against your lips, thumb pressing onto your clit. he’d shush you as a whine exited your mouth, holding onto you tighter and pushing another finger inside of you. “that’s it, open up for me.”
remus would continue working on fucking you with his hand until he was satisfied that you could take his cock. when he pulled out from you and instead ran his tip against your bare cunt, a gasp swiftly left your lips, your gaze dropping down to the sight below. the action of him dragging his length across your pussy felt so teasing yet incredibly satisfactory at the same time that you couldn’t complain and watched — mouth wide open — as he slipped himself inside of you.
your cunt was so inviting and gripped to him so well, remus had to force himself not to go overboard. he’d go and out of you effortlessly, while waiting for you to fully before quickening his pace.
as words impulsively babbled from your mouth, he thrusted inside of you while simultaneously messing with your pussy. “your cock feels so good, please don’t stop.” humming in response, remus took full notice of your fingers digging into his arms, his hands moving to hold your thighs in place and keep them spread apart.
he remained fucking you from behind as he rammed his length into your throbbing hole and your tits jolted with every slam. he kept his focus on your face, watching as your expression grew more fucked out when you suddenly threw your head back — a shriek leaving your mouth and your body moving to a halt.
remus didn’t stop pushing into you until he felt his tip throb, reluctantly pulling out and feeling himself twitch. as he clenched his thighs and his cock sprang against your cunt, almost reflexively he grabbed his length and slapped it against you a couple times, your body jerking against his chest.
send me a request !
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underoospeterparker · 3 months
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HIII
can you please write remus lupin with grumpy x sunshine trope !! also, glad you're coming back. i hope you are doing well 🫂
dropped everything (and i mean EVERYTHING) to write this and i think it's one of my best ! and thank you lovely i am doing well hru?
grumpy!remus lupin x sunshine!fem!reader
"Why the annoyed look, Moons?" Sirius laughed, nudging his best friend. "Problems in paradise?"
Remus shoved him away, but Sirius still looked smug. Remus took a sip from his beer to try and attempt at staying calm.
"He's so grumpy all the time," James slurred, wrapping an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Don't know how his girlfriend deals with him," he said, something that sounded like a snort escaping his mouth. "He still gets all the girls."
"He does," Sirius said, a solemn look on his face. The corner of Remus's lips twitched in amusement.
"It's not my fault the two of you still can't get girls," he replied flatly, finally acknowledging his best friends.
"Remus!" you shouted, halfway through the crowd.
He heard your voice and in a second, he had turned to the crowd to search for you, not even telling his friends where he was going. "Move," he said to someone blocking his path, voice filled with disdain.
"Sorry, man," the guy said, clearly not sorry at all.
He spotted you, and abandoned the half-conversation entirely. He immediately leaned down to wrap you in a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head.
"Hi, sweetheart," he murmured when you pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands.
"Hi, Rem," you said excitedly. "Where's Sirius and James?"
He took you to them, rather reluctantly. It was selfish of him, yes, but he had to admit that sometimes, he just wanted to keep you all to himself.
"Hi, guys," you exclaimed, a huge smile on your face as you greeted them. They responded with equally enthusiastic greetings and you sat down happily.
When you had settled down again, you whispered in Remus's ear, "I missed you today."
Remus grinned, and James and Sirius looked at the two of you, incredulous. A smile like that? From Remus? It was extremely rare, that was for sure. "I missed you too," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.
When you and Remus finally turned back to Remus's best friends, they were gaping at the two of you, not even attempting to hide their shock.
"What happened?" you said, voice cautious and gaze glancing from James to Sirius and then back again. "Did I do something wrong?"
Remus was quick to reassure you. "No, honey, you did nothing wrong." He paused. "Just these two being pricks again."
"Yeah, okay," Sirius said, voice exaggerated. "Says you, Moony."
You tried and failed to hide a laugh.
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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months
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Talk Too Much
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader
Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it
Wc: 2.2k
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You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.
That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.
It’s not on purpose.
It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.
You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.
His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.
He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.
You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.
He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.
Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.
It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.
What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.
It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.
You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.
Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.
The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.
He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.
It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.
“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”
It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.
You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.
You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.
Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.
You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.
“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”
Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,
“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”
James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.
You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.
It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.
“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.
Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.
Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”
You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.
It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.
You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.
You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.
His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.
‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”
There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.
“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.
“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”
Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.
You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”
Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.
“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.
“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.
“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.
You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.
Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.
“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.
“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.
“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”
Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.
“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”
The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.
“I make you nervous?”
Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.
“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.
“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.
Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.
Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.
-
“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.
Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.
What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.
There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.
It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.
Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.
You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.
Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”
He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.”
You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”
Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”
You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.
Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.
That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.
“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”
Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.
“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.
“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”
“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.
His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.
You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.
No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.
“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”
You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”
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loveyouprongs · 2 months
Text
are you awake?
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prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader
upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words
masterlist
you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.
"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.
you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.
“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”
he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.
“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.
“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.
you looked beautiful, he thought.
“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.
“did i say that out loud?”
“you did.”
“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.
“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.
“what happened this time?”
“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”
you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-
“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”
“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”
“you’re making me be real?”
“oh, nevermind.”
had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.
“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”
“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”
a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.
“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”
“of course”
“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.
“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”
“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.
“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.
“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.
hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.
it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.
“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.
“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.
“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”
he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.
“but don’t you like being held?”
“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”
“there’s no sense to cuddling!”
“there’s sense to everything!”
“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.
you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.
“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”
he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, now get some sleep.”
the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.
it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.
remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.
“are you awake yet.”
“no.”
“oh, okay, sorry.”
“mmm.”
two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”
“are my eyes open?”
“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”
“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.
“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.
“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.
“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”
he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.
“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”
you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.
“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”
remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.
“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.
i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.
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randomoutsiders · 7 months
Note
remus x reader who has no patience at all, so remmy teaches her some with cockwarming.
remus typically has enough patience to fill the open-spaced loft where you're stationed from floor to ceiling. but your nonexistence of it, is weaning on his, and the stack of growing parchments to grade is growing dauntingly tall. your limbs ache with discomfort as you stretch out on the mattress, lounging not unlike a feline in the warm rays that cast over the green duvet. "are you almost done?" you drawl, with no attempt to indulge in the worried furrow of his brow.
remus merely glances over his shoulder, cashmere sweater shifting with the movement. he leans back in his chair, slender fingers twirling the barbed end of the quill. "c'mere."
the answer is unexpected, and you're jolting with the surprise of it, limbs knocking awkwardly against each other in your scramble to get off the bed and over to him. "really?" excited, but confused, you slide into his lap.
the male hums, tracing a gentle thumb over the heartbeat that thrums in your temple, and you push further into the embrace. the other hand works at the strings that keep his buffalo-print joggers around his waist. "you have to stay quiet, alright, dove?" he instructs, easing a half-flaccid cock out. "i told you, there are a lot of papers to grade, here."
you nod, enthralled. you wrestle in closer, tucking your chin over his shoulder and allowing his fingers to brush over your slippery folds. you jolt, but he forgets the cumbersome moment with a hardening dick that slides slowly in. "okay, sweet girl," he whispers, dragging a heavy hand against your spine, now. "stay where you are, now. i'll be done as quick as i can be."
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ellecdc · 23 days
Text
A Man With a Plan.6
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: swearing, mostly fluff, funny moments with friends, no plot just vibes [crystal dialogue prompt courtesy of keke the unstablereader 🫶]
Though Remus was undoubtedly relieved that you a) knew of his affliction, and b) forgave him for his arseholery, he was admittedly a little more than slightly disappointed that very little had changed between the two of you.
Which made no sense on account of the fact that he never planned on anything changing between the two of you to begin with; he was discontent, nevertheless. 
“Oh, good, Y/N’s here. Listen, how the hell do I stop the nargles from stealing my things?” James shouted as you approached the table. You looked like you had perhaps only been prepared to say hello and carry on, to which James was having none of it and nearly bodily forced you onto the bench next to him. 
“Hello, Jamie. Do you have your cranberry seed oil infused corks?” You asked as you obediently took your seat.
James scoffed and pulled out a lanyard from under his uniform which, lo and behold, had a cork attached to it smelling very much like cranberry seed oil. “I literally never go anywhere without it.” He said as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question.
You hummed and Remus watched a divot appear between your eyebrows as you scrutinized what Remus assumed was James’ aura or some other such entity. “Well, I don’t see any around you, James. What makes you think you have a nargle problem?”
James groaned dejectedly and turned back towards his lunch. “All of my things are missing! It started around the time you went missing.” James stressed, still not having completely forgiven you for your disappearance at the last full moon. “It was my school tie, and some socks, a quill set my mom got me at the start of school, and now I can’t find my herbology textbook!”
You hummed again and seemed to look around the table as if you’d somehow find his belongings there. “Perhaps you should ask your friend Peter.”
Remus heard Peter choke on his pumpkin juice as James, Sirius, and Remus all turned to look at him. 
“Uh...haha, so, funny thing...” He started, cut off by an indignant squawk from James.
“You were stealing my stuff!? Why!?” He cried.
Peter’s cheeks pinked though a pleased smile graced his lips. “You were so worried about Y/N being missing and the nargles taking your things. I thought a funny prank would lighten the mood; I wouldn’t get a chance like that again!” He defended himself. 
“You are so dead.” James muttered as Peter (wisely) took off out of the Great Hall with James hot on his heels.
“Alright Y/N.” Sirius started, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “You’ve gotta tell me; how’d you know it was Petey boy?”
A shy sort of pride painted your features and Remus thought it was the most beautiful you ever looked. “Wrackspurts.”
Sirius’ smile fell slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Wrackspurts?” 
You nodded in agreement. “Mhm. His head was full of them.” You said simply as you took a piece of cut strawberry from James’ abandoned plate and popped it in your mouth.
Sirius nodded with a look on his face that seemed to say ‘fair enough’. “And how’d you know about this one?” He asked, motioning towards Remus with his head.
“About his affliction, or about his soulmate bond?” You asked as if you were simply talking about the weather.
Sirius cocked his head as he considered you. “Both.”
“His aura...or I suppose Moony’s aura.”
Remus felt his eyebrows recede into his hair line. “Moony has an aura?” He asked you.
You nodded in the affirmative. “I’m assuming you’re right-handed?”
Remus nodded numbly.
“Most of the lunar cycle, Moony’s aura sits around your left shoulder. As the cycle moves closer to the full, he resides on your right. Also, sometimes when I’m near, he tries to come closer. Would you say that’s true?” Your serene tone did nothing to calm the racing of his heart.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sirius said, interrupting Remus’ internal struggle. “There really was nothing you could do to hide from this witch, huh Moons?”
Remus chuckled self-deprecatingly and looked down into his lap in a little bit of shame. Your smile never faltered, however. 
Peter and James returned then; James with a self-satisfied grin on his face, and Peter with his hair, shirt collar, and tie in disarray. 
“What’s so funny?” James asked as he sat beside you, smacking a platonic kiss to your cheek as he winked over at Lily from her spot further down the table, whose face turned a shade of red rivaling her hair at having been caught watching James.
“Remus and his last two braincells trying to keep Y/N away from him.” Sirius snickered. Remus kicked at him under the table which caused you to jump. He apparently had missed his mark and had kicked your shin by accident. 
“Fuckin’ hells, dove. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my gods...” 
Sirius barked another laugh as Peter whispered a quiet ‘dove?’
“Oi! You really have lost your gobstones! Can’t believe Moony’s the dumbest one out of all of us now.” James said as he checked your shin for injury under the table. 
“Remus isn’t dumb.” You defended the dumb bastard. 
“Well, you can’t say he’s very smart here, dollface.” Sirius conceded.
You hummed and shooed James away from your leg. “Wisdom was chasing him; Remus was just always faster.” 
This time, poor Pete lost his pumpkin juice completely as he sputtered mid-sip. You didn’t even seem to realize you’d said something particularly funny (or devastating) as James nearly fell off the bench in a fit of laughter and Sirius pulled you into his side.
“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Remus, please, can we keep her!?” He said in between bouts of laughter, wiping away a mirthful tear from under his eye.
Remus had no objections. 
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What Remus hadn’t agreed to was this.
Remus understood that allowing Moony (and...himself) to keep you around meant that he would ultimately have to share you. He knew that he’d have to share you with James, he’d have to (rather unfortunately) share you with Regulus, he’d have to share you with Pete and Sirius who seemed just as enamored with you, and he’d likely eventually have to share you with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and the rest of his friend group.
He was however not in the slightest prepared to have to share you with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior. 
Remus had, quite happily, found you studying in the library alone and asked politely if he could join you at your table. The two of you had been studying in companionable silence when Regulus showed up. No matter, Regulus was quiet and diligent in his schoolwork. 
Then, Sirius had shown up perturbed that his baby brother and his best mate were hanging out (to which both Regulus and Remus vehemently denied, seeing as they were both here studying with you, not each other), and insisted he be involved. Though Sirius struggled with the whole sitting-still-and-quietly thing, he more or less managed to join the three of you without much fuss.
But then James showed up, which sparked a long and arduous debate between he and Regulus regarding which entity was worse – wrackspurts or nargles – to which you weren’t even a part of save for each of them calling to you in need of an explanation every so often. You would look up from your book and answer them politely before returning to your schoolwork as if you weren’t surrounded by complete idiots. 
Remus was lovestruck. 
And then Barty showed up.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Crouch screeched as he ran through the library completely ignoring the shushing from other students and string of curse words following him from the crotchety librarian. 
“Hello, Bartemus.” You greeted the banshee serenely.
“Quickly, darling.” He started before promptly dumping a large sack of tumbled rocks and gems in front of you. 
“Where’d you get all of these?” Regulus asked incredulously, reaching to pluck a small stone that had rolled over to his open book.
“Never you mind that!” Barty shouted as he swatted his hand away. “Y/N - light of my life, apple of my eye - which of these crystals will help me piss of my dad the most?!”
Once again appearing completely unperturbed by the general chaos around you, you perused the crystals set before you. 
“Well, Carnelian can invoke passion.” You said as you plucked a red stone from the pile. “Garnet can invoke intense emotions: jealousy, anger, fear. I recommend pairing it with gold – maybe place it in a gold setting for a necklace or something similar. Dravite will bring up unresolved emotions...” And soon, two red stones and a brown stone sat in your palm as you held them before Barty. 
“Pfft, figures.” Barty grumbled. “Red and gold never fail to piss me off either.” He sneered, looking pointedly at the three Gryffindor’s seated at your table. Remus was not necessarily proud of the low growl that the comment elicited from him, but he was proud of the restraint he showed when Moony was screaming in his head to tear the fuckers head clean off his scrawny body. 
“Bartemus.” You chided gently, looking up at Barty standing above you like a parent might look at a particularly troublesome child: full of love.
Remus hated it. 
“Sorry my sweets.” Barty cooed at you and ran a finger along your cheekbone. 
Remus hated that more. 
“Mr. Crouch!” The librarian called, finally having caught up to her problem student.
“Well, I must be off.” Barty called casually as if it was completely of his own volition that he now vacate the premises. “Keep the rest, beautiful angel face. Much love!” 
And he was gone. 
Thank Merlin. 
“The friends you keep.” James muttered as he shook his head in disappointment as if he wasn’t one of said friends you keep.
“Oh, Bartemus is not so bad. Perhaps just a little misunderstood, and a little more than maniacal.” You put simply. 
James was shushed loudly by the librarian for his laughter.
“I’ll go check on him.” Regulus said as he stood. He barely spared the Gryffindors a glance as he nodded politely at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
“Goodbye Regulus.” You sang to him, smiling brightly like he had just been anything more than sort of polite to you.
Remus once again figured that was as much affection as Regulus could ever show. 
“You boys are welcome to help yourselves to the crystals. It’s a wonderful idea to take the ones that speak most to you.”
James exclaimed gleefully as he started to browse the many stones in front of you. Sirius’ face piqued in interest as he quickly plucked the most sparkly stone on the table.
“Jamie, you should bring this one to Lily.” You said as you handed him a small, slightly translucent pink stone. James didn’t bother asking questions such as ‘why?’ or ‘what is it?’ or even ‘should I be worried?’ before he accepted it, punctuating his ‘thanks angel’ with a kiss to your hair before he was racing out of the library.
“What stone was that?” Remus asked, unable to quell his curiosity.
“Rose quartz.” You responded simply.
“What’s it do?” Sirius asked.
Your mouth quirked in thought. “Stones don’t really do anything. They just encourage what’s already possible.”
Sirius rolled his eyes earning him a defensive kick in the shin from Remus. 
“What does rose quartz encourage, dove?” Remus placated.
“Love and affection.”
Remus nodded and watched as Sirius pocketed two more shiny and sparkly stones before his expression was painted with mischief. “Say, Y/N. What crystals should our dear Moony here have?”
Remus couldn’t even bother shooting his mate an unimpressed glare when your face picked up excitedly and you began sifting through the stones. He watched just as animatedly. 
After a few moments, you proudly displayed a small palmful of stones. 
Remus placed his hand palm up beside your much smaller one and relished in the intimacy of you gently transferring the stones into his palm; your hands gently brushing in the action.
“What are those stones?” Sirius asked curiously.
Remus swore some bashfulness painted your features as you pointed the stones out in Remus’ palm. He was thankful for the continued contact as you explained them all. 
“This is amethyst, which supports calmness; rids the mind of negative thoughts, and promotes dreamless and restful sleep.” You explained, causing Remus to nod his head. That could be helpful.“This is obsidian which helps one process their emotions.” That one earned a snort of laughter from Sirius. “Jasper is supposed to provide support during stressful times. This is moonstone which...well...I suppose that’s self-explanatory.” 
Remus hummed but couldn’t help but notice you failed to discuss the last stone sitting in his palm. He wasn’t going to push it, however.
“And the pink one?” Sirius asked sharing no such qualms, lips quirked in a smirk and eyes full of mirth. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, clearly feeling slightly self-conscious, but explained it nonetheless. “Rose quartz to encourage love and trust.” 
Remus would usually consider himself a generally skeptical person: but you may have just converted him.
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mangomonk · 7 months
Text
i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me
↳ summary: read this drabble first! goodie two shoes!remus, afraid of being perceived as other, stumbles into a relationship at the expense of y/n. ↳ content: angst, one-sided fake dating ↳ a/n: a little nervous because this is my first time writing for remus pls be gentle w me! for full enjoyment, listen to ivy by frank ocean (i looped it the entire time i wrote this). the more i wrote this, the more i realized i could turn this into a full blown million word fic, but i tried to keep it as condensed as possible, hence some time skips/summarization. pt. 2 here!
When Remus Lupin confesses — no, announces — that he likes her in the middle of the Great Hall, she thinks she's dreaming. Surely, she didn't hear that correctly. Only hours earlier, she had witnessed the doe-eyed boy unleash a slew of curses beneath his breath. I guess everyone has bad days, she had thought. Even Remus, who she had always pegged as straight-laced and well-mannered.
So when a half a dozen heads turn to stare at her directly, Y/N turns to see if there's anyone behind her. When she sees no one, she turns back forward. It's when Remus Lupin's soft, brown gaze meets hers that her heart stutters dangerously in her chest. She can't help it despite the bewilderment she feels — everyone in the castle has to have some sort of crush on the fluffy-haired boy. He's all soft, disarming smiles and beautiful, brown eyes and knitted jumpers and gentle laughter and—
—and Y/N goes red in the face right away. It doesn't help when Remus tilts his head to the side slightly and offers a small, uncertain smile. Merlin, help me, Y/N thinks as she stares back, wide-eyed, her confusion and any thoughts briefly neutralized at the way his eyes crinkle into little half-moons.
— — — — —
Y/N has always prided herself on being a sharp judge of character. It soon became clear to her, however, that Remus Lupin was a strange, but intriguing case of contradicting character.
Following his confession — rather, announcement — in the Great Hall, she becomes overly conscious of the tall boy. It feels as though she's suddenly very aware that they have most of their classes together, that he sits only a seat away from her in Charms, that he has chicken scratch for handwriting when she passes him in the library. The latter comes as a surprise — perhaps unfairly, she would have pegged him as a swooping cursive type of boy. In any case, it soon becomes the case that Y/N realizes that she can find Remus easily in a room of crowded students, and the more she does, the more she begins to realize that Remus is a boy full of surprises.
This doesn't seem to matter though, because strangely, after his confession in the Great Hall, Remus does not once approach her. Occasionally, she catches him glancing at her with an odd expression, but outside of an increase in being stared at by the other students, little changes in her life.
It isn't until a week later when her seat partner in Charms is out that their paths cross again. When she trudges to her seat in class, she becomes very quickly aware that they're separated only by an empty chair. She doesn't look away fast enough because Remus looks up as she pulls her chair out, his gaze snagging on to hers with an intensity that she doesn't expect from the softness of his eyes.
"Good morning," he says slowly, almost uncertainly. Up close, Y/N can see a splay of pale freckles across his cheekbones. His lashes are unfairly, distractingly long as he gazes up at her.
"Hi," Y/N says, equally uncertain, though she tries to keep her voice light and casual. No one's ever really had a crush on her before, and she finds herself floundering on how to act. Shouldn't he be the nervous one, and not her? Somehow though, she can feel her palms begin to sweat, though Remus doesn't look nervous at all. Just sharp and assessing. Fortunately though, before the air between them can turn any awkwarder, a mussed-haired head pops up from around Remus.
"Y/N, right?" James Potter asks with a wide grin. His glasses are skewed and crooked on his face as he peers around Remus at her rather owlishly.
Next to him, Remus blinks a few times as she nods, opening her mouth to speak when Professor Flitwick clears his throat to begin class.
She tries to focus on taking notes, but it's difficult when she can see Remus casting her sidelong glances from her peripheral view. She gives up on trying to focus on class entirely when a folded piece of parchment flits over the gap between them with a familiar chicken scratch.
Can we talk after class?
After class, Y/N has a ridiculous, irrational flash of self-consciousness that the humidity has made her hair begin to frizz. Remus doesn't seem to notice as she rakes a hand quickly through her hair because a nervous, almost agitated, energy is rolling off of him as he paces in the courtyard.
When he catches sight of her, he stops, a warm smile breaking across his face, though Y/N feels that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. But the new knowledge that Remus has a dimple on his left cheek and his smile is just slightly crooked is enough to disarm any wariness. Unexpectedly his nervous energy seems to dissipate immediately. "Hi," he says, "You came."
"I got your note," Y/N says, inwardly grimacing — of course he knew that already, he had been sitting next to her.
"Right, well, I, er—" Remus begins choppily, his hand rising to rub at the nape of his neck. "I was wondering about... Earlier, last week, when you saw me... Did you say anything to anyone?"
Y/N blinks at him once, then twice, blankly. "Earlier?" She questions, before the heat begins to rise to her face. He must have been referring to his confession. "I haven't said anything to anyone."
Remus's brows furrow for a moment before his face relaxes. He's surprisingly difficult to read — it feels as though any trickle of emotion is covered with a disarming soft smile. "I see," he says after a moment, his shoulders relaxing. "Right, well, Y/N," he begins, looking around them distractedly. "—shall we date?" Y/N straightens with a jolt as he continues. "I won't be offended if you say no. In fact, I'd understand if you said no, we've barely—"
She doesn't know what it is exactly. Maybe it was the curious thought that Remus might not be the charming prince he seemed to be. Maybe it was the dimple in his left cheek. Maybe it was the way he said her name. But something in Y/N slipped through her confusion and the unceremonious nature of the whole thing, because she finds herself speaking before she can stop herself. "Yeah. Let's date."
Remus's face goes slack. He looks a little startled, Y/N thinks, like she's clubbed him over the head. "Are you sure?" He blurts, eyes widening a fraction. It's perhaps the most emotion she's seen him show so far. Y/N writes it off as nerves and incredulity.
She nods once, firmly.
"I guess that's settled," he says weakly with furrowed brows, though he looked neither pleased nor displeased.
— — — — —
Initially, Y/N and Remus are as awkward as can be. She's not sure if it's because neither of them have really ever been in a relationship before, but it feels clumsy in the beginning.
Their dates start off mostly as study dates in the library, but Y/N doesn't mind — to her pleasure, she finds that they eerily work well together and she likes the calm peace of Remus's presence while she's studying. She likes to think that he also finds comfort in her presence because it's become ritual for him to ask her about the book she's reading, and vice versa. In a few weeks, they start reading the same books. Maybe it's because they spend so much time together studying that it becomes gradually more comfortable.
When they go to Hogsmeade for the first time together, Y/N finds that they end up walking around the village and chatting nearly until curfew. She tells him about what it's like growing up with three brothers — "It doesn't seem very different from the Marauders," Remus observes with a wry laugh — and he tells her stories of how despite moving around periodically during his child, his mother always found a little corner in the yard to start an herb garden.
He does all the things she'd imagine a boyfriend might — Remus is a gentleman, expectedly. He holds the door open for her, gives her his jumper when there was a draft in the library, walks her back to the Common Room at night.
But, unexpectedly, it isn't Remus's soft smiles or considerate aura that Y/N finds herself straining to see. But it was when he threw his head back and laughed himself breathless at James holding his wand on the wrong end that Y/N found it impossible to tear her eyes away from him. Or when he shot her a dour look the first time she teased him on his illegible chicken scratch. Or when Remus cursed like a sailor when he knocked his ink pot over onto his parchment because he was always so uncoordinated and graceless.
It was perhaps impossible not to fall in love with Remus Lupin. Though maybe she already knew this from the start when he first looked at her, and even more so the first time he said her name.
She liked the way he would groan and complain and grumble as he stretched out his lithe limbs in preparation of helping Peter with his essay that he had procrastinated on, even after she could see the exhaustion begin to pool under his pretty eyes. She liked that he could silence the boys with just one baleful look. She liked the way he fell asleep on his books when he thought no one was looking. She liked his dry remarks and his wolfish grin and his grumpy mood. She liked all the rough edges that Remus showed her when he would forget to put up a soft smile.
It was too easy to love Remus Lupin, though it seemed like he didn't know that himself.
It only takes four full moons for Y/N to understand what the Marauders meant whenever they quietly referred to Remus's furry little problem. In the first place, they weren't always discreet — it was easy for them to forget she was there when she was studying in the background. In the second place, Remus would apologetically cancel their studying plans around the same time each month, and he would disappear for a few days and come back exhausted with fresh scars. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, really.
But while she understood why he didn't tell her, she couldn't help but give him a tighter hug when she realized.
"Something wrong, love?" He had asked, reaching up to caress the back of her hair as she squeezed his abdomen.
"No," she had mumbled into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. She could feel affection swell inside her so violently she felt a little dizzy as she gave him another squeeze. "Just wish I could always be hugging you."
"No one's stopping you," Remus had responded dryly. She smiled into his chest as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. "Certainly not me."
— — — — —
When Y/N tries to discreetly deliver a small care package of chocolate and books a few nights before the next full moon, she accidentally overhears Peter ask James when Remus was ending his fake relationship.
"I doubt it'll raise any suspicions now that no one's pestering him about not having a girlfriend," she hears Peter say.
James makes a noncommittal sort of noise. "You know how Remus is about these things. He's always on edge that someone will think he's the odd one out—"
She feels like the ground beneath her has stuttered and shifted into an open chasm as her mind whirls to make sense of their conversation. For a moment, she thinks she's wrong, but like it was with Remus's furry little problem, if she thinks back on the stranger moments of the past four months, it's not difficult to piece it together. She begins to feel a little ill.
How many times did he force himself to smile at her stories? How many times after walking her back to the Common Room at night did he sigh with relief when she left? How many times did he wait for other students to be around to hold her hand? All the heart-fluttering moments she had thought had been magical and wonderful and incredible with Remus had been entirely one-sided. How humiliating. She feels used and dirty and pathetic, but the worse thing is that she can't feel angry.
She doesn't know how long she stands paralyzed outside, just that it's difficult to breathe or think properly. All she can feel is a numbing ache in her chest, and the feeling tightens when she hears a familiar voice behind her.
"Hmm?" Remus hums, a smile breaking across his face. The dimple in his left cheek appears briefly. "What are you doing here, love?" When she doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and peers at her face carefully, his big, brown eyes soft. "What's wrong?" He asks, gently looping his arms around her waist. Y/N goes perfectly still under his touch. "I knew you'd be studying for the Ancient Runes exam all day, so got some cakes from the kitchen for—"
"Remus," she interrupts suddenly, her throat gone cottony and dry as she raises her gaze to finally look at him. It sends a sharp pang through her chest again. "Are we ever going to kiss?"
Bizarrely, scarlet splotches appear swiftly on the high points of Remus's cheek as his eyes widen a fraction. "Kiss," he repeats, sounding strangled as he stares at her wide-eyed, looking as though she had clubbed him over the head. "You want to kiss?" He asks after a moment, his voice hoarse as his eyes flicker down to her lips.
"Do you want to kiss me?" She asks quietly, watching his throat bob as he swallows thickly.
"I've wanted to since—" Remus says softly, a little nonsensically, his eyes darting back down to her lips. His pupils are blown wide and dark as he swallows, his throat bobbing. “Y/N,” he murmurs, and she can feel his breath brush against her nose. She tries to control the thumping in her chest as he slowly leans in and raises his hand to cup her face. Remus looks down at her with a sweet adoration she knows cannot be real. She's seen this sort of soft look from him countless times before and now she knows better than anyone that it's just another cover. Perhaps it was perfectly clear since the start, but she had let herself get swept away with naive hope. The start of nothing. She feels like a fool.
Remus's head ducks slightly as the space between them closes. Y/N goes perfectly still as she watches his other hand rise, his fingers trembling a little as they reach to curve around her jaw.
For a moment, she entertains the thought and wonders what would happen if she just closes her eyes. She could close her eyes, could lean in and feel his eyelashes brush her cheek, could let him kiss her senseless. It would be so easy. It scares her a little how much she wants that.
Before she can betray herself, Y/N closes her hand around his wrist. “You can stop now,” she says, her voice low and steadier than she felt.
Remus freezes, his dazed expression crumpling in confusion. She takes a steadying breath, swallowing back the bile in her throat as she schools her expression with difficulty. Y/N places his wrist back down away from her face and lets go as she continues, despite the dull ache in her chest. “I wanted to know how far you would go,” she continues quietly. “How far you thought I would be willing to go.”
“I don’t understand—” Remus begins, a myriad of stricken dismay, alarm, and something else flickering across his face. For a moment, she thinks it’s the residue of desire, but she quickly remembers how good of an actor Remus is, and doesn’t let herself entertain that thought that it’s anything else besides panic for being caught.
"I know you're just using me," Y/N says, her throat dry. Her voice, to her mortification, cracks and comes out as a croak. Any sense of anger deflates immediately and all she can feel is this crumbling sense of defeat. “I should have known that something was strange when you suddenly confessed. We had never even really talked before that. I mean, I thought that I was dreaming when you said you liked me—"
“No, it's because—”
"I know why you did it," she whispers. Remus freezes, the color draining from his face. "The worse part of all this is that I can't find it in myself to hate you for using me. But I had just thought that you didn’t think so little of me as to…” She doesn’t finish as she stares down at the space between them, swallowing thickly. She feels ill. The last sentence had come out before she realized it. So that was what it was — disappointment.
"Did you even know my name before James said it?" She asks with a bark of a forced laugh as she straightens, setting her shoulders now though she still has a difficult time looking directly at him.
Remus swallows thickly as he steps forward. His pause is enough of an answer. "Let me explain,” he begins quickly, his words tumbling out in a frantic mess. “Y/N, wait,” he starts, reaching out.
“Don’t touch me, Lupin,” she says dejectedly, stepping away from him. Remus flinches and freezes, his expression falling, but she can't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore. Y/N stares at the worn patch of carpet by her shoe as she swallows thickly before turning to leave. "You can tell everyone that you broke up with me if it helps you."
— — — — —
a/n: thx for reading! pt. 2 here my masterlist here
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moonstruckme · 9 hours
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request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.
But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense
no stress if this isn't your jam <3
Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words
“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”
Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 
Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 
You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 
Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 
“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 
“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 
You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 
Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 
“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 
“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 
Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 
“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 
You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 
“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 
You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 
He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 
“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 
“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”
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luveline · 5 months
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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 
“Can you sit up, at least?” 
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 
“Close your eyes,” he says. 
“Was that a dracula impression?” 
“I command you.” 
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 
“Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 
“But for how long?” you ask. 
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?” 
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 
You shut your eyes. 
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 
“Do you want to?” 
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 
“Remus–” 
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 
“So you like me?” 
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.” 
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 
“After that?” 
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 
He flinches. 
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 
What are the rules here? 
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 
He should let you sleep. 
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 
“Mm?” you hum. 
“I need to ask you something.” 
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 
“I just need to ask you something.” 
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 
“I'm chucking them out!” 
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 
“What?!” 
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D &lt;3
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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shy!reader who’s always a little anxious and hesitant to show affection but one day initiates by asking remus if he wants a kiss and he’s all giddy but she meant a chocolate kiss and she gets red and blushy
eek thank you so much this is so so cute! sorry it took me so long angel. hope u enjoy 💗
remus lupin x fem!reader modern au
You tip your gift bag upside down over the coffee table, colourful foil-wrapped chocolates spilling out across the wooden surface. Your boss at work had a bunch of sweets left over from her kid’s birthday party and had opted to give them all out to her colleagues. Lucky you, you’re one of her favourites. You’re pretty sure your bag was stuffed full the most.
You dig through your goods, sorting them into piles of different flavours and types, and then your favourites and Remus’ favourites. Speaking of, your boyfriend sits across from you on the one-seater couch, immersed in his writing. The laptop screen paints him paler than usual but no less handsome. You know you’ve struck lucky with him and just looking at him from across the room makes your heart race. You like him so much it’s sick.
You pick through the pile of chocolates deemed Remus’ favourites. There’s lots of dark chocolate, a few nutty bars and multiple Hershey’s kisses.
Without thinking (well, you are thinking, but just about how much you like Remus and want to give him something he’ll love), you speak up into the silence.
“Remus? Do you want a kiss?”
To your credit, you are holding up a silver-wrapped Hershey’s kiss in your hand. To Remus’ credit, he doesn’t see it until his head has snapped up so fast you’re worried he’s cracked his neck, eyes wide and lips parted.
“What?” He asks.
You realise your mistake almost immediately. Heat flares behind your cheeks.
“A Hershey’s,” you correct yourself, embarrassed beyond measure. You hold it up for him to see. “A Hershey’s kiss.”
Remus’ eyebrows lower significantly and his wide eyes soften.
“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, okay.” He smiles at you and you miss the mischief, too flustered from your slip up. “Bring it over here for me?”
You’re happy to. You get out of your seat, grabbing an extra couple of Hershey’s for good measure. You stop in front of his knees and hold the chocolates out to him.
He smiles and takes them from you, calloused fingers brushing your soft palm. “Thank you, lovely girl,” he says, lifting his chin so he can look you in the eyes.
You smile back. “That’s okay,” you say, moving to return to your seat. Remus doesn’t let you. He leans over his laptop, the screen digging into his chest, and bracelets your wrist with his lean fingers.
“Hold on,” he says, and now you pick up on the mischief in his tone, now that he’s got you trapped. He pulls you in between his legs and you know you’re not getting away until he lets you. “I’d like a real kiss too, if that’s okay.”
Heat blooms all over your face, creeping up your neck like a rash. “Remus,” you say, in what’s supposed to be a complaining tone but instead makes you sound like you’re a lovesick fool. You are, but. He doesn’t need to know that.
“What?” He grins. “I’m serious, dove. Please?”
It’s his please that gets you. You would’ve given him one anyway, but when he’s practically begging you, you’d rather die than not kiss him.
“Fine,” you say, more breathless than you’d like to be.
You lean over him and kiss him quick and sweet, trying not to linger though you desperately want to. Remus has other ideas. His hand curls around your neck, warm and heavy, and holds you against his mouth while he kisses you properly. Your lips part from the pressure, Remus’ thumb pushing into the hair at the back of your neck.
You’re barely breathing by the time you pull away. Cheeks hot, heart hammering. Remus smiles at you, looking not nearly as disheveled as you feel. Unfair.
“Thanks,” he tells you. “If you’ve got any more to give me, let me know.”
You both know he doesn’t mean chocolates.
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ddejavvu · 7 months
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oooh, reader finding out that her name in modern!remus’s phone is something super sweet like ‘my love’ and remus finds out his name in her phone is something ridicules like ‘daddy 🥵’ or ‘dicking down specialists’
"Send me that, would'ya, dove?" Remus smiles softly at the picture on your screen, a photo of your baby cousin giving him a rather drooly, wide-mouthed 'kiss' on the cheek as Remus tries turning away. He's got the most perfect expression you've ever seen on his face, a beautiful mixture of adoration and disgust.
"Mhm," You hum, tapping a mere three times to send the photo off to your boyfriend, "There y'go, Remus."
"Thanks." He grins, then his phone buzzes on the armrest of the couch, "Ah, look, m'girlfriend texted me."
He holds up the phone with something cheeky in his eyes, and your own gaze catches the contact name he has set for you on his phone: Lovey Dovey.
"Remus," You gush, mouth curling involuntarily into a good-natured pout, "That's so sweet. You're cheesier than I expected."
"Oh, please," He scoffs, "I'm sure yours is worse. What is it, sugar bear? Honey bunches? Snookums?"
Any of his further teasing quips are silenced when you resignedly murmur, "Captain Cock."
He blinks, mouth slowly closing, "What?"
"It's... it's Captain Cock," You repeat, "That's my- that's your name in my phone."
"Captain..." He echoes, and you nod, "Cock."
"'Cause we went to see that movie," You wave your hand, desperate to explain yourself away, "The- the war one. And the guy's name was Captain Cook, and- well, when we got home, you... we- uh, we fucked, so I just," You nearly fall silent, barely able to scrape together the courage to finish, "I just named you... Captain Cock."
"A war movie made you think of my dick?" Remus verifies, and you feel your cheeks blaze warmer, a level of heat you've never achieved before.
"Hey! You were the one who put the moves on me in the theater!" You defend, "I was watching a guy's head get blown through and you had your hand on my thigh! Plus," You scoff, grumbling without meeting his eyes, "Morning after, sure felt like I'd been through combat."
"I can't believe you," Remus laughs incredulously, "You nasty thing! All this time you've been my Lovey Dovey, and all you're thinking about is what's between my legs."
"No! No," You insist, ramming your face into his chest and trying to soothe the burn of your cheeks against the material of his sweatshirt, "Remus, stop it, you're being crass!'
"I'm being-! You're the one who's got my genitals saved in your phone!" He gushes, taking your jaw in his hands and pulling your face up to hover in front of his own despite your protests. He holds you there with a delighted grin on his face, one that's wolfish and teasing, "You're a perv, Y/N. Sirius would be very proud."
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sinnersami · 7 months
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remus lupin who takes you on any surface in his house.
one thing about remus is that he fucked harsh and rough. when he had you resting against a wall; one leg around his hip as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, he thrusted his cock inside of you fast and slick, his balls hitting your cunt as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
if he was in the middle of work and you were too needy or horny, he wouldn’t fuss; bending you over his desk, hands clutching at your waist and digging into your skin as he slammed into your tight hole. you’d have your palms laid out on the wood surface in front of you, head thrown back in utter pleasure as remus grunted in unison to your whiny moans.
he especially loved fucking you into his couch — your body sprawled beneath him — as he watched how your boobs bounced about and his cock enter your pretty pussy. the way you’d bite your lips and have your eyes screwed shut while you made sinful noises only spurred remus on further, thrusting into you harder and eventually moving a hand from beside your head to pinch onto your nipples.
when it came to you both cumming, remus would always want to hold onto you as he let out a loud groan and cursed; the feeling of your skin coming to contact bringing him complete comfort.
send me a request !
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