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#remus lupin x reader insert
turvi · 3 months
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Almost-1
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Remus shivered as a gush of cold wind hit his poorly covered body. His hands trembled as he fished out the pack of cigarettes, letting out a frustrated sigh when he found out only one was left. It wasn’t much but it gave Remus an illusion of warmth in this harsh winter. It was like he had forgotten what warmth felt like. Yet it doesn’t excuse the wallet in his pocket that he picked from a man in a three-piece suit who was too much in a rush to even look up from his phone. 
He shifted closer to the cold wall, facing towards the trashcan which seemed better than facing the bustling street of London. It was a farce really, when he knew no one would look his way and those who did made him feel worse. Their eyes were either filled with pity or disgust neither helping him the way he feels about his situation. However, how could he blame society when he was to blame for his condition? No one can blame these polished shops for not keeping him because it didn’t matter that he was overqualified. His condition made him unemployable. 
Despite the strong winds, it was a miracle Remus was able to light this cigarette. Soon his stomach grumbled. He took out some pennies from the man’s wallet, it was enough to get him a loaf of bread. He begrudgingly left his somewhat warm spot, trying his best to avoid people. When he walked back with the loaf of bread he saw a thick envelope below the stack of the newspapers he kept to burn. He looked around trying to figure out who left this envelope. He picked it up and went into the alleyway away from the peering eyes of the people on the streets. 
Once he made sure he was alone he opened the envelope to find a letter and a bundle of notes. He frantically took out the cash, counted it and scrutinized each note under the flickering street lamp. Someone had left him £2000. Under a normal circumstance, he would have just left the money and society would have patted his back for his morals. Unfortunately, Remus wouldn’t call himself moral now. He is filth to this society, no more the respectable professor who teaches young minds about the infinite opportunities they have that he doesn’t. He couldn’t even pursue his passion without missing from his work for days. 
He looked around, his heart beating faster as he anticipated someone to attack him. But there he stood alone under the flickering street lamp, with the bundle of money in his hands. He scoffed at his state. Remus looked like a parody version of himself. So hungry for money that he didn’t even think twice before putting the money in his pocket. He hated these kinds of people yet here he was ready to do anything for this amount of money. He picked up the discarded letter. His throat dried up when he read his name in the letter. It was better when he thought this envelope was for someone else:  
Mr. Lupin, 
Hope you are doing well. I wish I could say that but seeing your state that would be a lie. You went from a respectable professor to a pickpocketer. While it is very easy to get someone like you in jail I want to make an offer. I want you to go to Wales and get me someone. Now I am aware this is a much more serious crime than you usually do but I have connections and not only you can get away with it you will receive the double amount of cash that you received right now. Now Mr. Lupin I want you to imagine. I want you to imagine the power I have that I can easily get you out of this crime you are about to commit. I am a simple person. If I want something I get it by all means. So if you are unable to get this person for me I can very easily get you convicted for crimes you didn’t even commit. 
Choice is yours Mr. Lupin. If you choose to do this task for me kindly the letter in the envelope and leave it where you found it and you can go and get another loaf of bread…my treat. Although I warn you if you look back or try to “catch me” you will face consequences. If you don’t accept my offer kindly throw everything in the trashcan you call your home and patiently wait for your life to get worse. 
Warm Regards, 
Your Well Wisher. 
Dread filled his chest when Remus read the final words. A shiver ran down his spine. He couldn’t help but feel eyes on him now even though he was standing in a desolate alleyway. He couldn’t even close his eyes the words of the letter flashed in front of his eyes reminding him of the situation he was in and that there was no escape he had.  
Remus made the decision. He looked at the bundle of money in his hand in disgust laying back against the cold wall hoping to find some comfort but he had forgotten that feeling too. He slowly walked towards his spot putting the envelope under the stack of newspapers and walking with no destination in mind.
A/N: COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS. And if you wanna tag let me know.
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moon-witchs-world · 11 months
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Growing Pains - Remus J. Lupin Part Three
Growing Pains – part three
A Hogwarts Tale
Remus Lupin x Fem!WitchReader
1,7k words
This is part three of a multiple part series. You can find part one here and part two here
Masterlist
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The full moon came and went and just like that, you hoped everything would be normal again. That Remus would feel like himself again and that his anxious mood would have lifted. You barely slept the night of the full moon. You knew there wasn’t anything you could do for Remus, but still you couldn’t relax.
Eventually, after spending most of the night tossing and turning, you woke up from a short but intense nightmare at 5:00am and decided to just get up. You took a quick shower and got dressed. You had never been a morning person, but there wasn’t a chance you would get any more sleep. Maybe Remus had already returned to the castle after his transformation and wanted to talk to someone. 
And so you started to walk to his office on the second floor. But before you even arrived at the staircase, you heard someone behind you cough. When you turned around you saw Albus Dumbledore with a smile on his face. 
‘Y/N? What a happy coincidence to meet you here. I was just on my way to see you. Excuse my early visit, I hope it’s not a problem.’
‘Of course, headmaster, is there anything I can do for you?’ you asked him. 
‘No, not for me per se. But I wanted to ask you to perform a couple of healing spells on someone,’ he explained vaguely. 
‘Of course, headmaster,’ you replied. When you worked for the department of Magical accidents and catastrophes you had to deal with lots of magical injuries and you had perfected your healing spells over the years. 
‘I expected nothing less. Would you please accompany me to the second floor?’ he asked and you nodded. 
You walked with professor Dumbledore and hoped he would explain the situation on your way to the second floor, but when he didn’t you couldn’t help yourself but ask about it.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, professor, why do you need me for healing spells? I think Poppy is way more skilled in such spells.’ Professor Dumbledore grinned when you mentioned the name of the school's matron.
‘You’re very modest, Y/N.From what I heard you have a real talent for healing. Isn’t it correct that the head Healer at St. Mungo’s offered you a job twice?’ 
You blushed. You had no idea how professor Dumbledore even knew about this, but the Healer in charge of the magical hospital had contacted you several times over the years to offer you a job as a Healer for the department of spell damage. You had liked your job at the ministry too much to leave. 
‘Yes, that’s  true. But still. Poppy tends to sick and injured students every day. I can hardly imagine my spell work is better than hers,’ you said quietly. 
'I need you because the issue at hand is delicate. I rather not inform more people than absolutely necessary,' he simply said. You walked besides professor Dumbledore in silence until you arrived at a door you recognized all too well. It was this door you always passed with a racing heart. Remus' office. The headmaster stopped walking and knocked on the door. 
When the door opened you felt your heart sink. The man who appeared in the doorway looked terrible. His green eyes were bloodshot, his hair was messy and dirty and there were bloodstains on his clothes. 
'Albus, I thought you would bring Poppy,' Remus said and he worked very hard to avoid eye contact with you. 
'Forgive me, Remus, for not being clear, but I don’t want Poppy involved. I don't want too many people to know about your condition. Y/N is very capable of healing you. If you don't mind, I'll leave you to it, I'm afraid my presence is needed elsewhere,’ the headmaster said and with that, he left. 
Now that it was just the two of you, standing opposite each other, Remus looked at you. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable, embarrassed even. 
'You don't have to do this, Y/N. I never asked Dumbledore to fetch you. He just said he would get someone to heal my wounds,’ Remus mumbled. 
'It’s okay, Remus, I can help. Can I come in? I don't think it's a good idea to keep standing here in the hallway. Someone might see us.' You meant him, because he was the one covered in blood, but you thought it best not to say that out loud. 
'I think I'll just clean up a bit and I'll be fine, I'll see you later,’ Remus answered.
'Not going to happen, Remus. That cut under your collarbone looks quite deep. It'll just take me a minute to heal it,' you pressed on. He sighed, then moved away a tiny bit and you were able to get into his office. 
'Please sit down and would you mind…' your shyness got the better of you and you felt your cheeks burning.
‘What is it?’ he asked after he sat down behind his desk. 
'Would you mind taking off your shirt? I need to see the wound,' you explained. You looked into his eyes and then let your gaze travel over the rest of his body. He was hurt. Dirty. Covered in mud and half dried blood and Merlin knows what else but still you were so deeply attracted to him you had a hard time focusing on what you had to do. Remus didn't reply but took his shirt off. He flinched when the fabric touched the wound. 
You pointed your wand at the wound and muttered the spells under your breath. The wound closed quickly, like the skin melted back together. Another spell wiped the blood away. 
'Good as new,' you said with a weak smile when you were done and you put your wand away. 
'Why did Dumbledore send you? He could have done this himself, right?' Remus asked when you were finished. You were hyper aware of the fact that he was still shirtless so you averted your gaze. 
'Maybe he was busy,' you said, but you weren't convinced. Professor Dumbledore would have been able to heal the wounds as well, he had to have a different motive. 
 'Or he thought you would appreciate the company. Make you feel less alone. He knows we were in the same year at Hogwarts. Maybe he thinks we’re friends,' you stopped talking when you noticed you were rambling.
‘I’ve been transforming once a month ever since I was a kid. I don’t need you to look after me, I’m perfectly capable of being on my own, I’ve always been alone during this time,’ was his snapped response. 
‘That’s not true.’ It seemed weird to contradict him. Out of bounds, but you did it anyway. He looked at you puzzled. 
‘Excuse me?’
‘Well, in the past you always had your friends to support you, right? I could be your friend now,’ you heard yourself say. You hated the word friend in this context because you longed to be more than just a friend, but you didn't say that. 
‘I’ve grown up, Y/N. I can handle it by myself without dragging innocent people into dangerous situations.’ 
You sighed and rolled your eyes. Remus’ stormy mood was getting on your nerves. You were trying so hard to stay calm, but enough was enough.
‘Okay. Fine. Spend the most difficult time of your life alone then. Wallow in your misery. I’m tired of trying to help you, Remus. I’ve been nothing but kind to you and you keep pushing me away. I’m over it.’ And without another word, you stormed out of his office, leaving him by himself.  
~~**~~
That afternoon when you had some time to kill before your last lesson of the day, you went to the staff room. It was deserted and you chose a spot in front of the fireplace. When you just opened the book you had been reading, Minerva McGonagall entered the room. When she saw you, she walked over and sat down next to you. 
'Hi Minnie, how are you?' you asked friendly. Over the last couple of weeks you and Minerva had grown a bit closer. You really liked her company and enjoyed talking about all different kinds of subjects. Minerva’s intelligence impressed you and you wondered sometimes why the Sorting Hat didn’t put her in Ravenclaw. 
'Are you okay? What's bothering you, Y/N?’ Minerva asked, ignoring your question. She looked at you from over her glasses.
'Nothing, Minnie,’ you answered quickly. Too quickly because when you heard the words leave your mouth, you didn’t even believe them yourself. 
'I can tell there’s something going on. And you didn’t show up for breakfast today. Or lunch. You can tell me what’s wrong,’ she said sternly, but there was kindness in her eyes.  
'I’m worried about Remus. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to help him, but he kept pushing me away and this morning we had an argument. Now I feel bad,’ you explained quickly. 
'I think Remus fancies you,’ she stated in response. 
‘Minnie, what are you talking about? I just explained to you how he keeps pushing me away. He doesn’t fancy me, he probably thinks I’m annoying.’
But Minerva simply shook her head. 
‘He doesn’t want you to get close to him because he’s afraid to hurt you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching, Y/N. I’d bet the Quidditch cup on it he fancies you. And you know how serious I am about Quidditch.’ 
You started laughing. Before either of you could say anything else, your attention was drawn to the door because you heard someone enter. Your laugh died on your lips when you saw it was Remus. You really hoped he didn't hear what you and Minerva had been talking about. You expected him to leave at the mere sight of you, but he walked to you with purpose in his step.
‘Hey Y/N. If Minnie doesn’t mind, would you like to take a walk with me?’ Remus asked softly. He looked at you with a pleading look in his eyes and you found yourself on your feet in no time. 
‘No problem at all,’ Minerva answered with a knowing smile. 
‘After you,’ Remus said gallantly and you felt his eyes burn on you when you walked out of the staff room.
@turvi <3
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thatboisus · 3 months
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“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead. 
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before. 
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?” 
“Everywhere.” 
“By your eyes?” 
“No.” 
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?” 
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.” 
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels. 
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus. 
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.” 
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up. 
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 
“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained. 
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.” 
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now. 
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?” 
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now. 
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.” 
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.” 
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.” 
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
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sunnami · 7 months
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you'd be the love of my life when i was young
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summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)
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They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 
That was absurd. 
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed. 
Maybe you’d try Severus next. 
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 
Something stirred deep in your belly. 
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 
Who were you to get in the way of that?
They would understand, you convinced yourself. 
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed. 
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them. 
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder. 
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 
Did you have a place with them? 
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 
 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 
“Because you don’t feel the same.” 
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 
She tasted like happy endings.
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note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
3K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 21 days
Text
Surprise! We're Making Love
6.8k words
this is my first real like... real smut fic? so do take that into consideration [and please be nice to me lol] but also feel free to send me a message if you have any feedback or pointers.
this is a fic based on this trope that was sent to me by @bobluvbot like a million weeks ago and became my hyper fixation for far too long. I finally decided to put it into words. thanks to @unstablereader for championing me as I wrote this and convincing me it was decent enough to post lol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
CW: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coming inside of someone, AFAB reader, reader is a Pureblood Slytherin, has hair long enough for Rem to feel it on his shoulders when you're straddling him, reader has hair texture that sticks to you when wet, mentions of smoking weed and being high, mentions of drinking and alcohol, mentions of arranged marriages, use of mudblood and blood supremacy
Remus doesn’t know how exactly this thing started for him.
Perhaps it was the day after a full moon when he forgot to lock the door behind him to the Prefects Bathroom and you let yourself in, nearly fully stripped before you realised he was sitting in the steaming, bubbling pool-sized tub with a spliff hanging lazily from his mouth.
“Circe’s tits!” You screeched as you hastily pulled up your towel to keep your modesty. “You didn’t think to alert me to your presence, Lupin?” You sneered half-heartedly at him as you tried to regain your composure.
“Sorry.” Remus chuckled, voice gravelly from a mixture of last night’s howling and tonight’s smoking. “My brain is moving a little slowly right now.”
You looked between him and the spliff and sighed. “Think you’ll be much longer?” You asked him quietly, cautiously, reticently. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you look so dejected.
Slytherin princess; though you never really let that dictate how you treated people, just that it levelled you with a certain notoriety within the school. You were the only one who could talk sense into Barty Crouch Junior; Pandora Rosier’s biggest defender and advocate; Snape, Mulciber, and Avery’s biggest adversary; the one who encouraged Regulus Black to reach out to his estranged older brother; and the least likely to enact revenge on the Marauder’s for their pranks.
Though Remus had never shared more than a few words with you in passing, he knew a lot about you. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, you were a Pureblood, the eldest daughter and heiress to your family’s name and fortune, Prefect, received top marks in Charms and Transfiguration, and hated the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Knowing all of that made Remus rather rueful that he hadn’t spoken to you before now.
“Listen, this tub is nearly the size of an Olympic swimming pool.” Remus started, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s big.” He clarified. “I don’t mind...sharing if you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable; otherwise, I’ll pack up and leave it to you.”
He didn’t really want to leave; not whilst he was still nursing his post-moon hangover and the warm water was finally starting to relieve some of the tension in his bones. But you looked forlorn, and damn Remus and his bleeding heart, he’d give it up if you needed it.
“I don’t want to kick you out... you were here first.” You murmured, apparently weighing your options in your head.
“I will leave if you want, L/N, but I’m more than willing to share.”
You searched his eyes for what, Remus wasn’t sure, but you seemed to come to some decision. You threw your head back and let out a strangled groan which Remus was certain was more for dramatic effect than it was indicative of any real ire.
“Fine, turn around.”
Remus smirked at you and tried to ignore the protesting of his joints as he stood in the pool and turned to face the opposite wall, allowing you to drop the rest of your clothes and your towel and sink into the water.
“Okay...” You whispered quietly. “You can sit back down now; thank you.”
Perhaps it had begun then; he’d offered you a puff from his joint, causing you to move closer to him. He was a gentleman and avoided noticing the way your breasts sat high on your chest, buoyant in the bubbly and fragrant waters.
He ignored the feeling of your elbow brushing against his. He ignored the way your hair, damp from the steam and humidity, stuck against your skin. And he definitely ignored the way that as the weed started to affect you, you leaned your head onto his shoulder.
What he couldn’t ignore? When you asked him what you could do to help him.
“Help?” Remus asked you bemusedly, jostling his shoulder and forcing you to sit up and return his gaze.
“Yeah; you seem tense, stressed.”
Remus let out a confused chuckle from his nose. “That’s really not anything you need to worry about.”
You laughed back at him, nudging him with your elbow. “Lupin.” You chided. “You were willing to give up your private pool time, you’ve shared your weed with me, and you’ve let me intrude on your bath; let me worry about it.”
And he doesn’t know how you did it, he’s not even sure he remembers how the rest of the conversation went – one moment the two of you were sitting an entire swimming pool apart and pretending the other wasn’t there, and the next moment he was sitting on the edge of the pool with his hands tangled in your hair as you took him in your mouth.
“Christ, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He tried warning you, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.
Like the watery siren that you were, all you did was moan and take him deeper, and in another moment, he was spilling down your throat.
Remus was sure he looked absolutely wrecked; naked, soaking, exhausted, a few fresh wounds from last night, and his permanent eye bags a more dramatic purple today on account of his lack of sleep last night.
Not you though; somehow even though you’d just done all the work, you looked ethereal. Wet hair pooling in the water around you as you sunk into the suds up to your collarbones, your lips swollen and glistening from your fantastic work if you asked Remus, and eyes a mischievous magnet nearly luring Remus back into the pool completely against his will.
“Godric, you’re good at that.” He breathed embarrassingly. Thankfully, you only laughed at with him.
“I’m sure you meant that as a compliment, Lupin; but it sort of sounds like you’re calling me a whore.”
Remus cackled at that, thankful that his time in the water eased the soreness in his ribs before doing so.
“If you give me a few moments, I’ll return the favour dove.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You offered, moving back to the other side of the pool to retrieve the book you’d deserted in favour of pot, and then in favour of cock. “I’ll just take an I.O.U.”
Or maybe it started at the Ravenclaw afterparty following their win against Hufflepuff. You showed up with your friends fashionably late and clearly having pre-gamed to some extent if Barty’s uncoordinated movements were anything to go by.
He noticed you every once in a while, flitting around the party with various friends, dancing to various tunes, participating in various games over conversations; but something was different about you. You weren’t as...glowy.
Your smile never met your eyes, and your laughs weren’t carefree – not like they were in the tub. Not like they ought to be.
But hey, you helped him when he needed it, and he did technically owe you.
He brushed past you and gently pulled on your elbow as he continued moving. When you turned back to see what had happened, he nodded toward the exit.
He didn’t bother turning around to see if you were following him, he just carried on down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower before turning the corner to an empty corridor.
“Oi, Lupin; your legs are longer than mine. Slow down!” You called. 
He didn’t realise at that time how much it meant to him that you had followed; hindsight being 20/20, and all.
“Where are we going?” You queried as you caught up and walked in step with him.
“You’ll see.” He said simply, cutting across the hall and opening the door to an empty classroom.
“Going to teach me how to translate Ancient Runes, Lupin?” You joked, though your affect was clearly lacking.
“I’m going to help.” He responded simply, leaning backwards against the professor’s desk.
“Help?”
“Right.”
You smirked and raised a singular perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, looking him up and down with a suggestive glance.
“What exactly are you to help me with?”
“You seem worried, tense.” He repeated your exact words from the tub a little over a week ago.
You offered him a half smile that, once again, never met your eyes. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
He offered you a soft smile in return. “I do owe you, though.”
Remus doesn’t know what it was that convinced you to accept his offer. One moment he was leaning casually against the professor’s desk as you watched him warily from the door to the classroom, and the next moment he had you splayed out on the desk before him with the skirt of your dress bunched up around your waist and his head between your legs.
Now, it’s important to note that Remus is a humble and modest person. In fact, he’s really quite self-conscious. He didn’t come from a notable family and compared to his friends he was basically a pauper, he was scarred and tall and lanky, and due to his lycanthropy, he avoided meaningful relationships; meaning that whilst his friends all enjoyed relationships and situationships, he stayed religiously single.
All that being said, there was something Remus knew to be true that he felt worth bragging about.
He was fucking good in bed.
So his ego was properly stroked when you threw your head back so hard that it made a painful whacking sound against the wood of the desk with just the first stripe of his tongue through your folds.
Like a man starved, he buried his face between your legs and hardly ever came back up for air. He pulled your hips flush to his chest with your legs thrown over his shoulders and his arms hugging your thighs that he used as earmuffs.
Remus could easily call this one of his new favourite places to be, especially with the sinful sounds escaping your mouth.
He used his thumb to tease your clit, thrusting his tongue in your hole a few times before bringing it back out to run through your lips.
“Oh, Merlin!” You cried, causing him to chuckle, which caused you to flinch slightly at the feeling of his cold breath against your cunt.
“Come now, L/N; you know that’s not my name.”
You let out another cry as he wasted no time diving back in, his nose rubbing at your clit as his tongue continued its assault.
Remus’ efforts were rewarded in the form of you cumming on his face and your body falling limp below him.
He allowed you to catch your breath as he fought to catch his own, ignoring his knees crying in protest from having spent the last however long supporting his weight on the hard stone floor.
“Oh gods.” You breathed finally, opening your eyes and stealing a shy glance at Remus, still stationed near your core.
He smiled wolfishly at you. “Better?”
You laughed; a real, hard laugh that had been missing from you all night. “Much.” You agreed readily, accepting his outstretched hand and sitting up on the edge of the desk and pushing your skirt back down to cover yourself. “Thank you, Lupin.”
Remus shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a snap of his fingers, pushing open a window with a flick of his wand. “What are friends for?”
You snorted inelegantly; a far cry from the proper Pureblood heiress you’d been raised to be as you pulled your panties back on and took careful, albeit slightly wobbly, steps to join him at the window.
“Are we friends now?”
“Were we not friends before?” He countered, offering you a drag from his smoke that you easily accepted. He was sure his lips, tongue, and now the end of his cigarette still tasted like you.
“I didn’t think your kind was supposed to be friends with mine.” You offered, not looking at him as you passed the cigarette back.
“Blood status, really L/N?”
You scoffed derisively. “Please, Lupin. Give me some credit.”
It seemed to Remus that you looked almost hurt at his insinuation.
“I meant Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s.”
“Perhaps we can be the first.”
“Do many of your friends see you naked, Lupin?”
Remus grimaced at that. “Honestly? More than I’d like, yes.”
And there it was again, that uninhibited laugh. Remus felt vindicated in his task for this evening.
“Alright, friends then.” You agreed, reaching out for his cigarette and taking a long drag before returning it to him. “Let me know when you might need my help again, Lupin.”
“Likewise.”
And maybe it was the day that he had Avery pinned against the wall by the collar of his shirt for calling a first year Hufflepuff a Mudblood.
There was blood dripping from Remus’ nose onto the collar of his uniform shirt from an elbow to the face as he spat various threats promises of pain and maiming, when he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.
Due to the tension radiating through Remus’ body considering how close it was to the moon, his first reaction was to throw an elbow behind him. He thanked every deity possible that you were shorter than him when you ducked expertly to dodge his assault.
“Let him go.” You said simply.
Remus felt his brows furrow as he let out a protesting grumble.
“McGonagall is coming.” You continued.
Remus looked from you back to Avery who was now smirking at him. If Remus left now, Avery would tell McGonagall what Remus did; if Remus stayed, he could tell McGonagall what Avery had said.
“He won’t say anything.” You argued - as if you had heard Remus’ internal conundrum - causing Avery’s face to fall and both boys to whip their heads to you.
“And why the bloody hell won’t I, L/N?” Avery spat.
Your eyes moved from Remus’ to Avery’s where they took on a horrifyingly cold quality, no doubt the result of your cold and indifferent parents raising you like a proper Pureblood heir.
“Because I know where you sleep.” You spat lowly.
Remus watched as Avery fought to remain defiant, but as he heard the sound of McGonagall’s footsteps approaching, let out a frustrated groan.
“Fine. Sod off.” He barked, pushing Remus away from him roughly and stalking off towards the Slytherin dungeons.
Remus angrily picked up his book bag and began stalking down the corridor in the opposite way.
His blood was boiling, the tension in his shoulders and neck was starting to give him a headache and every step he took aggravated the matter.
He turned hastily around a corner when the strap of his book bag was pulled off his shoulder.
“What?” He hissed when he turned to see you with the other end of his strap in your hand.
“This way.”
“L/N.”
“Lupin.” You countered severely, voice intoning no nonsense.
Remus allowed you to drag him by his bookbag like a dog down a seemingly abandoned corridor and into an empty classroom before you locked the doors and threw up a silencing charm.
“What are you doing?” He muttered admittedly far more petulantly than you presently deserved from him.
“Helping.” You answered simply as you began undoing your school tie.
“I’m fine.” He spat, plopping himself down roughly into a chair. 
“Right.” You said sarcastically. “And you wouldn’t have continued to punch the first arse you saw on your way back to Gryffindor, huh?” You asked as you started pulling off your top and exposing your lacy black bra. “And I may not be an expert, but you’re a long way from Gryffindor tower which means your chances of running into an arse were really rather high.”
Remus held his hands up to his face and pinches at his temples, trying to stave off the incoming migraine and the overwhelming urge to tell you to fuck off, which he knew he really didn’t want to do. 
Suddenly you were in nothing but your bra and panties, kneeling before him and fussing with his belt.
“This really isn’t necessary, L/N.” He offered without much fervour. 
“What are friends for?” You asked quietly as you pulled his belt from the loops of his trouser.
“You don’t have to.”
“Do you want me to stop?” You asked pointedly, pausing your movements and looking up at him. You were giving him a choice; an out. Did he want to blow off some steam, or did he want to spend the rest of his day pissed off and tense?
Did he want you to stop?
“No.” He admitted.
Your eyes softened, though everything else about your face remained impassive as you undid the button and zip to his trousers and began encouraging them down his legs.
He decided to give up on his temper tantrum and assist you in the unenviable task of disrobing him and pulled you up into his lap.
“I don’t need anything.” You squeaked as he had you straddle his lap, your hair falling over your shoulders and tickling his own from your place above him.
“I’m not going to get in a fight and be a selfish lover all in the same day, L/N.” He said in faux admonishment. “Friends look after each other, yeah?”
And he’s not sure what swayed you. One moment he had you perched precariously above him as he gently nipped at your neck, and the next moment he was brutally thrusting up into you with no lack of desperation. 
“Fuckin’ hells you feel amazing.” He grunted as you mewled above him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut causing Remus to worry momentarily.
“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly. You moaned in response and dropped your chin onto his shoulder.
“Hey, dove, you okay?” He asked again, pulling you from him and slowing his movements.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, Lupin.” You barked before you pulled his face to yours by the ends of his hair for a searing kiss. 
He grinned somewhat maniacally into the kiss and lifted you from his lap as he stood with his cock still lodged deep within you and perched you on the edge of the desk.
“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” He taunted, pushing roughly into you from this new angle and causing you to cry out. “You like telling men what to do, dove?”
You gasped as Remus found the magic little spot he’d been searching for and he doubled down in his thrusts with renewed vigour. 
“That’s okay.” He continued, brushing a strand of hair away from your face that had gotten stuck in some of your lipgloss. “I like being told what to do.”
“Please! Please, please please.” You whined, a pretty sheen of sweat dusted your skin and began to pool on the divot of your collarbone. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.”
“Working on it.”
You were apparently coherent enough to laugh at that which was torture for Remus who was currently hanging on by a fucking thread as your giggles caused your cunt to clench torturously around his cock.
“Come on, pretty girl. Come on, cum for me, yeah? You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me.” He started chanting, moving his hand that was currently holding your knee up near his ribs to rub circles around your clit.
“Cum for me, L/N.”
“Oh fuck.” You shouted as your orgasm tore through you; Remus felt almost sick from the effort not to follow you over the edge immediately, wanting to help you ride out yours to fruition, but your walls pulsating around him left him very little control over the matter.
“Fuck.” Remus growled, and unfortunately that was the only warning you got before slammed into you once more, twice more, and was then spilling inside you causing your cunt to grow impossibly more wet and warm.
You let out a desperate breath and fell forward into Remus’ chest; he was ashamed to admit how much he relished in the intimacy - ignoring the very intimate act that had already taken place. 
“Fuck Lupin, you’re an animal.” You breathed out with a laugh.
Remus let out a surprised bark of laughter as he looked down at you.
“You have no idea.”
And if it wasn’t any of those, perhaps it was a few weeks later, when Remus saw a regal looking owl fly into the Great Hall over the Slytherin table, and with a grand war cry dropped an important looking letter in front of you, causing the rest of your table to fall silent. 
Remus watched as Regulus Black’s jaw tightened and Barty Crouch Junior’s spoon fell back into his porridge as they watched you open it.
Remus watched as all colour seemed to drain from your face and your jaw fell slack, though not open.
The rest of the Hall seemed completely unaware of the turmoil taking place over at the Slytherin table; everyone but Remus and, apparently, Sirius Black. 
“Shit.” Sirius whispered under his breath quietly, alerting neither Peter nor James who were currently in a heated debate about whether pumpkin pasties or sugar quills were the better treat from Honeydukes.
“What is it?” Remus asked him quietly. Sirius seemed nearly surprised that Remus had noticed, though schooled his expression quickly.
“Marriage announcement, she’s been betrothed.” He sneered the word, his nose actually wrinkling in disgust. “‘Sold off’ is a more appropriate term. It’s too bad, I quite liked her.”
Remus didn’t really like the feeling that settled in his stomach when he considered you being married off, but he didn’t have time to think on it too hard before he watched you storm over to Avery, Mulciber, and Snape before grabbing the former by the nape of his neck and slamming his head down into the table.
Remus was up and over to you in an instant with Sirius close behind, beaten only by Barty and Regulus who had the advantage of proximity.
“You miserable fucking wanker! You’ll fucking rot for this!” You screamed as Regulus fought and nearly lost in his battle of holding you back as Barty began sparring with your newfound enemy.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this Avery! You watch your fucking back!” You screeched. Regulus - for what reason, Remus couldn’t know - thought now a good moment to put you down, and as you launched yourself once again for what he was sure was Avery’s jugular, Remus threw you over his shoulder and took off out of the Great Hall.
“Put me down!” You shouted.
“No.” 
“Fuck off, Lupin.” You cried, grabbing at his jumper and slamming your fists into his lower back as he took the stairs two at a time. 
“You’re fine, L/N.”
You squealed and began kicking your legs out, causing him to use both arms to pin them to his torso.
“Stop it.”
“Put me down!”
“Stop it. Stop fighting me.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s fine.” He said, though it felt anything but. But he knew, you weren’t really mad at him, you perhaps weren’t even really mad at Avery.
“I hate you.” You said quietly this time.
“That’s alright.”
You had given up on your fight by the time Remus got to his destination. He was sure his shoulder in your stomach was causing you issues and the blood had to have been rushing to your head, but you remained placid as he hoisted you back up right and set you down on the floor of the Astronomy tower. 
Your face was wet and your hair was a mess as you took gasping breaths. 
This was beyond Remus’ wheelhouse when it came to you; he was good for eating you out, blowing off some steam, quickies, and the odd toke or two, but this? This was beyond his area of expertise. 
He decided to sit down beside you - both your backs pressed against the cold stone of the castle in a way he was sure felt good against your skin that was sizzling and crackling with fury. He didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say, nothing that he could say, and nothing he’d really know to say at a moment like this. Perhaps he should have left you to your friends; to the Purebloods who got it. Though, Regulus seemed willing to let you help Barty kill Avery, so perhaps it was better that you were up here with him instead. 
That's what he’d tell himself for now.
It could have been minutes or even an hour before you finally took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Remus asked quietly.
“Stop me.”
“You stopped me first.”
You let that sit in the air as you looked out into the horizon. 
“What do you need, L/N? What… what can I do?” He begged desperately.
Remus was certain the entire school could hear the sound of his heart breaking at the devastated expression that graced your face when you turned to make eye contact with him; your eyes seemed to beg Remus for something but he couldn’t decipher what it was that you were asking of him.
“I want to…to forget.” You sobbed. “I want to not think, I want to turn it all off for a fucking, god’s damned minute. I want it all to stop.”
“Okay.” He offered readily.
“I want it to stop.”
“Okay.” He repeated, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here.” He encouraged you. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need to forget.”
“Okay.” Remus said again, pulling at your hand and encouraging you into his lap. “I’m right here; take what you need.”
And Remus wasn’t sure what went through your mind as you searched between his hazel eyes. One moment you were carefully perched above him in his lap; tear tracks staining your cheeks and eyes full of sorrow. And in the next moment, your uniform skirt was hiked up and panties pulled to the side, and Remus’ belt was undone and his trousers were pulled low around his thighs as you bounced up and down on his cock like it was the solution to all of life's problems.
Remus wished it were true, he really did. But if all he could do at this moment was help you turn your brain off and forget the unpleasantness waiting for you back in the castle for just a little bit, then that’s what he would do. 
You had your face shoved into his neck and he was quite sure you were biting down on the junction between his shoulder and his neck - in an attempt to quell your moans, your crying, or just out of frustration, Remus didn’t know, and quite frankly he didn’t care either way. You grinded down onto him and he felt you applying pressure to your clit against his pelvic bone, prompting him to start rubbing it with his thumb. 
“You can let go, gorgeous. No one’s here.” He whispered.
You bit down harder in response and began riding him with an air of desperation. 
“I’m right here.”
And then he felt it. First, he felt your tears fall onto his shoulder, then he felt your teeth break his skin, and finally he felt your walls clench around him.
You stayed latched onto him; your arms around his waist, your hands clenched into the fabric of his jumper, your teeth on his skin and your cunt on his cock as he thrusted up into you and found his own release with very little effort on account of the aftershocks still shuddering through you. 
You sat like that for some time afterwards; the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to cover each of you as the sweat began to cool on your skin, and Remus rubbed circles into your bare thighs with his thumbs.
Unfortunately - for reasons Remus wasn’t willing to ponder on at present - you pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips to the place on Remus’ neck he was sure now adorned the shape of your teeth.
“Sorry.” You rasped, running a hand over the newest of many wounds now decorating his skin. He didn’t want you to be sorry, though, he thought perhaps this might be his favourite one; it wasn’t the result of some hideous monster who took out its rage on him, but instead marked a tender moment between him and his…friend. 
You pulled your wand to cast a healing charm over it when Remus grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t.”
Your reddened and swollen eyes looked at him inquisitively, causing Remus to flush in embarrassment.
“Leave it, I’ve already got so many; what’s one more?” He tried to joke, though he could tell as you looked back down at the bite mark, it fell flat. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, and Remus shook his head.
“Don’t be.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, looking into Remus’ eyes imploringly, as if trying to convey your gratitude through your very soul. “For stopping me.”
This moment suddenly felt too charged for Remus; it was different somehow, something had happened, though he wasn’t sure what.
Not then, at least.
“That’s what friends do.” He said noncommittally. “It was an I.O.U.”
He managed to force a small smile out of you for that, and he was grateful. 
So perhaps it was all of those together, in addition to the many blowjobs, many quickies, many quiet, loud, rough, or awkward fucks the two of you had in between.
But maybe…
Maybe it was the way your smile lit up the room when Barty or Pandora said something particularly outlandish or funny; your laughter echoing through the halls like an invitation to experience a secret joy that only you and your friends knew about.
Or maybe it was the way you seemed to be the only one who could weasel a smile, a laugh, or a fond eye roll out of the notoriously cold and apathetic Regulus.
Or maybe it was how a dimple in your left cheek only appeared when you were particularly proud of an achievement you made or a grade you received. 
Or maybe it was the kind way you sheltered the younger Slytherin’s from the brunt of the Marauder’s pranks without impeding their more good natured ones.
Or maybe it was the way you hexed McLaggen for hitting on Lily Evans, and then again for calling her a filthy Mudblood when she refused his advancements.
Or maybe it was the way that you could always tell when Remus was feeling sad or low and needed help, needed something, needed you.
And fuck.
He needed you.
Remus wasn’t exactly sure how this thing started for him.
One moment you were on your hands and knees in his bed and he was fucking into you from behind; his body curled around yours as he rubbed at your clit expertly to push you over that edge for the third time tonight. And the next moment you were spread out and pliant beneath him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lazily pushed into you.
He didn’t often get moments like this; moments to just sit and admire you. 
This thing he had with you, it was delicate, precarious. It was precious. And he wasn’t going to go fucking it up by forcing it to be something it wasn’t.
You were friends.
You were friends who helped each other.
You were friends who have seen each other naked; who have tasted each other’s sweat, skin, flesh, blood, and cum. 
You were friends who have spent time with each other, on each other, and in each other.
You were friends.
That’s what you had agreed to, that was the arrangement, that was all this was supposed to be.
And then Remus’ stupid sodding heart had to go and fucking yearn for you.
It ached to sit beside you in the library without it being a precursor for one of you to be on your knees in the stacks moments later. 
It ached to ask you about your day for the sole purpose of getting to hear about it and not just as a means to help you take your mind off it by bending you over in an empty classroom. 
It ached to watch you, uninhibited throughout the day, without it causing grief, or angst, or hungry looks being exchanged. 
It ached to taste your lips without tasting the leftover sex from previous actions. 
It ached for you to climb into the shower with him after this, to throw on one of his ratty old band tees, and to stay.
It ached for you to stay.
He wanted you to stay.
But you guys were friends.
And that was enough, it had to be enough. He would make it be enough. 
So sue him; sue him for taking this extra moment to admire your form below him, when you were only his in this moment. Sue him for memorising the way your hair pooled around your head like a halo even after all the tugging and ruffling that it has been subjected to. Sue him for watching the way your breasts bounced with each gentle thrust of his hips, the way your ribs expanded and contracted with each breath, the way the two of you fit so perfectly together; your body accepting him with grace and ease as he slotted the two of you together over and over and over again.
He ached for you.
And damn him - damn him and his bleeding heart and this beautiful girl beneath him - he reached out to pull a strand of hair that laid plastered to the side of your sweaty face.
He didn’t just ache for you.
He yearned for you.
He loved you.
He was in love with you.
And Godric only knows how far gone he was or for how long now. But it didn’t matter; none of it mattered. All that mattered was this ethereal being that, for just this moment, was all his. 
He doesn’t know how long your eyes had been returning his gaze. He supposed it didn’t matter, because he knew; he knew it was written all over his face. 
He may as well have been flashing a neon sign on his forehead: “My name is Remus, and I’m wildly in love with you”. And if the sign hadn’t been enough, he was sure his actions were.
There was no longer any desperation in his actions; no destination in mind as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in again. His hands weren’t placed in precise locations to elicit a specific reaction of any sort, but rather roved languidly over your body in meticulous worship. 
And if that hadn’t been enough, he was sure that the way you were staring deep into his eyes, into his soul; you saw. You knew.
The jig was up.
He had been outed. 
Your eyes widened minutely and began to flit around Remus’ face as your grip on his arms stationed on either side of your body loosened. 
You knew.
Though it was all for naught at this point, Remus scrunched his eyes closed as if he could save any of his remaining dignity; not that there was much left.
This was it, it was all going to be over.
He lowered himself over your body and pressed his face into your neck, hiding like the coward he was as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.
Gently, tentatively, he felt you press a cautious hand between his shoulder blades and another to the nape of his neck. 
Somehow, the tenderness in your touch hurt more. 
He came with a strangled cry, feeling humiliating tears fall from his eyes as he filled you up for what he was certain would be the last time.
He melted into your hold and cried silently into your shoulder, and you let him.
Your hand that was stationed between his shoulder blades never moved, but your hand in his hair kneaded gentle, soothing circles into his scalp.
He wanted you to stop; he wanted you to stop because this was all he really wanted... to be here, with you, like this.
He wanted the rough and the fun and the biting and the hair pulling, sure. But he wanted the gentle, the soft, the affection, and the innocent intimacy, too. 
That wasn’t fair though; it wasn’t fair to you. You never asked for it, and you never offered it.
You never asked for it.
You never offered it.
He decided that he’d been hiding in your neck for far longer than he had any right to, and slowly pulled his face away from its sanctuary. 
He looked up at you through his curls in shame to see you had tear tracks down your cheeks too.
What a fucking mess.
He was a fucking mess; and he’d dragged you down into it.
He slowly pulled out of you and summoned a tissue to clean up the cum leaking from your folds. You hissed at the sensation and he whispered an apology before pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and throwing you a t-shirt that he hoped to fucking God was clean, and sat on the edge of James’ bed; facing you, though his head was bowed in shame.
“I’m sorry.” He offered pathetically, knowing it was not even close to helpful in this situation.
“When…” You started, voice both gravely from the sex and tight with emotions as new tears fell. “When did this happen?”
He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t know. He couldn't say.
“When,” you tried again. “When did this change?”
Your face fell into your hands as you began to cry in earnest.
He wondered what part of this upset you the most; the loss of this friend that you had in him? The pressure to offer him more than you were willing to give? The feeling of guilt over not being able to return his feelings?
You didn’t seem to be waiting for an actual answer from him, but were rather voicing the thoughts running through your head as they came to you.
“I should go.” He whispered, even though this was his room, even though you were wearing his shirt.
“Don’t.” You demanded harshly, eyes blazing with a fire he never imagined ever being shot at him. “Don’t you dare leave me here like this; not after that.”
He nodded quickly, sitting back down on James’ bed as you wiped angrily at your face.
He wished you wouldn’t; he wished you’d be more gentle.
He didn’t get to wish things like that, though.
“When, when did this become love?” You asked in a mixture of shock and bemusement; the thought of an equation you couldn’t solve was clearly insulting to you. 
Remus shook his head in disgrace. “I’m sorry.” He offered weakly.
You scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry for what, exactly? Making me fall in love with you? Making me fall in love with you and not telling me about it?”
“You... too?” He rasped, looking at you with a slack jaw.
“Fuck.” You seethed, standing up and beginning to pace the dorm room for a few moments as you seemed to think back on the entire duration of this situation.
“When!?” You demanded again after a few moments.
“I don’t know.” He admitted honestly, placatingly.
“Fuck.” You paused in place, bringing your hands to your mouth. Remus hated it, but you paused right in front of the hearth, causing your form to be illuminated by an ethereal glow. He thought you looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry.” He said, for daring to even think such a thing.
But, maybe…maybe if you loved him too, he could think such things?
“Fuck.” You said again, still staring unseeingly at the wall of his dorm as you stood in nothing but an oversized shirt in the middle of the room.
“What-” Remus started, taking a cautious step towards you as if you were a wild animal poised to run at any given moment. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Not one muscle in your body moved save for your eyes as they shot over to him.
“Anything.” He whispered.
I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want. Say it and I’m yours. I’m yours.
I’m already all yours.
“I need to pee.” You said plainly.
Remus’ chest deflated in relief that you weren’t asking him to obliviate this memory from your mind.
“And then…” You took a shuddering breath that made Remus want to fold you up and keep you safe in his breast pocket for the rest of his life. “And then I want to talk. About this, okay? Please?”
Remus nodded quickly, readily, so unbelievably willingly.
“Don’t leave, please. Please be here when I get back.” You whispered; eyes, voice, and body language far more vulnerable than he ever remembered seeing from you (and ever cared to see from you again).
“Always.”
And he kept that promise.
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stormy-skyzzzzzz · 11 days
Text
okay but imagine sitting in your partners lap and whispering “talk nerdy to me, baby”
and then imagine them rambling on about random things they learned or something new they read that day.
(guys i love when ppl ramble about random things)
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bettysupremacy · 23 days
Note
Hi lovie!!! I love ur fics! I would love to see a Remus fic with an inexperienced gf! Not smut but like the convo before it like May be she's super anxious bc she's worried she won't make Remus feel good or like what if Remus hates the way she looks?? And Remus is reassuring her
thankkk youu for the request he’s so cute, 17+ just cause it’s a lil suggestive yanno
When Remus had asked you to stay the night through bleary eyes after the movie had ended, you hadn’t had the strength to say no. When he leaned in to kiss you, his knee nestled between your thighs, you knew you made the right decision.
His kisses were soft and breathless, growing more intense as you moved beneath him. He was warm and broad, hard to quit.
His hand grazes your thigh now, though you know better than to think of it as intention. He pulls up, trailing wet kisses down your cheek and neck. You gasp, tugging on his brown hair.
“I’ve never..”
He buries in your neck. He smells like warm vanilla and books. Maybe cedar. You dunno, you’re not a chemist.
“Been touched?” He asks innocently. His tone almost makes you smile.
His lips are pink and swollen from his attack on you. You swipe at the corner softly and he turns his head to kiss the pad of your thumb. He’s sweet, and his smile afterwards is stupid. He’s awful.
“Yeah.” You murmur, looking down at where his hand falls flat over your sock. Your knee had been hiked up in the frenzy. His hand roams up from your sock to hold your knee.
“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything till you’re ready.”
You nod, looking him in the eyes. His are soft and round. “But what if you don’t.. like it?”
“That’s very vague,” he smiles at you a little. “like what?”
“Me,” you’re almost silent. “Or like.. when we’re doing.. it..”
He wants to laugh but he doesn’t want to upset you. “I wouldn’t care about that either.”
“My body?”
He shakes his head adamantly. “Do you know what I look like?”
He eyes his scars. They run over his body, weaving through each other at times. You don’t care about them, don’t let your eyes wonder. You found yourself doing it at times when you first met him, almost immediately looking away guilty. You weren’t judgmental of the puffy lines that run through him, just curious.
“I’ve never cared about that.” Your eyebrows furrow.
“Exactly,” he pushes some hair away from your eyes. “Why would I?”
You nod, breathing out. He’s right and you know it. He wouldn’t shy away from the meat of your tummy or the happy trail under your belly button. Wouldn’t gawp at your thighs or the swell of your breasts.
Well, maybe he would, but for different reasons.
“I want to do that.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Right now?”
“Um,” you murmur, eyes falling away from him.
“That’s okay too.”
He’s very genuine, grasping your jaw in his hand. He just wants to look at you. That’s it. Your eyes and your nose, your cheeks and your lips. They’re as pink as his, also puffy, slightly swollen. He smiles at the sight, dipping to drop his forehead against yours. He exhales softly, nudging the bridge of his nose against yours. It’s a quiet moment before you speak.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
You nod, shying away from his eyes again, leaning up toward him.
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, mouth dangerously close to yours to be asking that question. Yet, you know if you said no he’d move away.
“Mhm.”
He dips back down, softer than before. You don’t know what to do with your hands, reaching up to hold his cheeks softly. You can feel the skin of his face move into a smile.
“Can I..” he starts slowly, dropping down for a slow kiss before continuing. “Do this?”
He reaches his broad hand to the hem of your shirt, nudging it up a little. Your tummy flips as he looks back up for confirmation. You nod, and he pushes his hand under, not roaming too far. He holds himself accountable, stopping right under the band of your bra. His hips lower too. You can feel him against you as he holds you closer, kissing deeper.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, if not to himself, to you. “I’ll be gentle.”
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kitkathockey · 1 year
Text
Prettiest girl at Hogwarts
Pairings: Remus Lupin x reader (they are already together)
Summary: Remus is answering some of the first years questions and one of them asks who is the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.
Notes: This is my first story, I probably won’t upload again for like along time, I only wrote this because I had this idea in my head. And I really wanted to read it! So I wrote it, and maybe someone else will enjoy it? I’m not experienced in this at all but if you guys like this, maybe I’ll right more? Probably not but anyway… enjoy!
*Also I am okay with my work being published elsewhere AS LONG AS I am credited/mentioned in it, thanks!*
…………………………………………………………………………
Remus Lupin is a prefect, and this year he was going to lead the first years. Once the sorting ceremony was over, he quickly ushered the 11 year olds over towards him.
The first years always had a lot of questions, always spitting them out whenever one occupies there mind. And remus got used to that quickly as he was answering questions the entire walk to the common room. Once they arrived, remus turned around to finish up the talk.
James, Sirius and Peter had already rushed off somewhere, most likely the kitchens, and will probably meet him back at their dorm. It was already late when they walked in but most students haven’t returned to their own dorms yet, spending a little time in the common room before they head to sleep. Y/n was sitting next to Lily, listening as she blabbered on about her holiday to Europe.
“Boys dorms are up the stairs to your left,” Remus gestured with his left arm, “girls, same on your right. Now are there any other questions before I send you all off.”
“What year are you in?” One of the boys asked him, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Remus gently smiled at the boy, running one hand through his fluffy hair “6th year”.
“Is it true that Sir Nicholas the ghost can take off most of his head?” Asked an excited girl, beaming slightly.
He chuckled slightly, nodding his head. “That is true but it’s not a very pleasant sight.”
“Who’s the prettiest girl at Hogwarts?” Questioned a little, blonde girl as her friend giggles slightly.
Remus shook his head with a little laugh, tilting his head slightly to the side to glance at Y/n.
“You see that girl over there?” He pointed to her and watched as the first years nod excitedly. “I think she’s very beautiful, the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.”
The 11 year olds giggled as they looked at the pretty girl and the two girls who asked the question jumped up and down clapping.
“What’s her name! What’s her name?” They asked as Remus placed both his hands on his hips with a smirk.
“Y/n” he answered.
The two girls were quick to rush over towards Y/n causing Remus’ eyes widen a bit before he just shook his head with a dorky smile.
“Um, excuse me” one of the girls tapped Y/n on the shoulder. She turned around to smile at the young girl. “You’re Y/n right?”
“That’s me.” Y/n smiled, turning her head to glance at Lily. Lily just shrugged and they both retuned their gazes to the two younger ones.
“That boy over there called you pretty!” The young girl with blonde hair giggled, pointing at Remus.
“He said you were the prettiest girl at Hogwarts!” The other one stated.
Y/n smirked, glancing quickly at her boyfriend Remus, watching him just shrug and smile in reply.
“Well that’s very kind of him,” She told the two girls, winking at them.
“Do you think he’s the prettiest boy at Hogwarts?” The blonde asked back quickly.
Y/n could feel her heart flutter slightly, as she nodded her head. “Oh definitely, he’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”
The girls quickly jumped and waved their goodbye before returning to the group of first years, explaining to them what they just heard. As Remus listened, he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle as his cheeks turned a slight pink colour.
…………………………………………………………………………
“What was all that about?” Y/n smiled as she rested on Remus’ bed, waiting for him to join her.
He just shook his head with a smirk, “they asked me a question and I answered it.”
Y/n blushed as Remus walked over to her, laying down and pulling her into his arms, hugging tightly.
“I love you,” Y/n said, her head dropped on his chest.
“I love you so much more” Remus replied.
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itsss4t4n · 2 months
Text
Safe with You - Regulus Black x potter! reader
a/n: THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT. (6558 words)
warnings: mention of abuse, smoking, hurt/comfort, kissing, background wolfstar and (barely mentioned) rosekiller
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You didnt remember a time where Regulus Black didnt hate you.
Being James Potters younger sibling, most of his friends were also yours, so when sirius started talking about how much he hates his family , including Regulus you didnt question it much, but you never really had anything against him personally.
But it didnt help that, from the beginning of yours and Regulus first year he was pretty much a dickhead. He made it a point to be better than everyone and to tell them so. 
That started a rivalry between the both of you. Battleing for top of the class. 
All of this only got worse when, in the middle of the winter holidays in your 5th year, Sirius appeared at your doorstep, bleeding and asking for help.
After that point Regulus made sure to show you how much he hated you even more.
You just assumed that he hated you because of your family. Blood-traitors. 
In the beginning of your 6th year you had started to sneak away onto the astronomy  tower a lot of nights. 
It was nice up here. Quiet. You found solitude from the stressful schoolday and your Brother and his friends. You loved them, of course. But it was a lot of pressure. Most people just saw you as James sibling. And they expected you to be like him. It was honestly really exhausting.
Your parents didnt help a lot either. As much as they said they loved you equally, you always felt like James and now Sirius were more important to them. You were just the perfect little sibling. You were quiet and you had good grades so they didnt need to worry much about you. You felt neglected. But you also understood them. James didnt try as much in school, concentraiting more on pranks than homework and Sirius obviously had a lot to deal with because of his past.
So you snuck away when everyone was sleeping. In your pyjamas and a jacket you quiely left the common room and went to he astronomy tower. 
When you arrived you didnt pay much attention to your surroundings and so you didnt notice the other person that was sitting against the outside wall of the tower. You had already pulled out the pack of cigarettes that you had nicked from Sirius a week prior and were beginning to light it when you stepped against the railing. 
Taking a drag and pulling the cigarette away from your mouth you finally heard shuffling behind you. You quickly turn your head, scared that you're gonna find a prefect, or worse, Filch behind you. But instead you see a boy sitting a few meters away from you, his back to the wall of the tower, his dark hair covering his face. 
"Sorry i didnt realize someone was here." 
He finally looks up at you and you finally see his face.
"Black? The fuck are you doing here?" Your voice is a mix of confusion and annoyance at he fact that your solitide was disturbed by him of all people.
"I could ask you he same thing Potter." His voice was quiet and annoyed. Like he didnt want to deal with this right now. He sounded exhausted.
And at a second glance he looked it too. He had dark bags under his eyes and if you looked closely you could see a bruise at the side of his face. You didnt remember seeing it earlier during potions class but maybe he had covered it with magic. 
You had the urge to comment on it but remembered all the things thatt sirius would tell you about his parents and you had a feeling it had something to do with that. And that was a topic that you were sure wouldnt end well.
So you settled on "You look like shit."
He didnt answer and only looked at you even more annoyed. 
Shrugging, you simply looked away from him and lifted your cigarette back to your lips.
Regulus didnt move from his spot, so you assumed that he didnt care much that you were there.
You didnt feel like standing any longer, so you sat against the same wall regulus was sat against, now only a meter between the two of you. afer a few seconds you held out the pack of cigarettes to him .
"want one?" 
He took one without a word and you handed him your lighter when he put it beween his lips.
After that the two of you sat in silence looking at the nightsky. After almost 30 minutes of sitting in silence, you slowly moved to stand up.
"Well... I better go to bed. goodnight Black." 
You had only taken a step or two when Regulus spoke up for the first time since you got there.
"If you tell anyone i was here, you're dead potter."
You turn to him with a small smile.
"I wont. If i did i would have to tell them that i was here."
With that you left, leaving regulus confused on why you wouldnt want anyone knowing you were there. He left shortly after you did.
That night started a routine of you going up to the tower to find regulus either already there or arriving a few minutes later. You would sit in silence together, smoking a cigarette or two, before leaving again. Neither of you ever talked much.
During the day both of you acted like you always did. Like you werent sitting next to each other in almost friendly silence a few hours prior.
You never told your brother or any of your friends about it.
At some point you had started to talk to him instead of just sitting in silence. Not much. And certainly not anything of sustance. Mostly just complaining about professors and homework. But he never complained about it. He never said anything to be honest. He just sat and listened in silence. This continued almost every night unil the winter holidays.
You were standing on platform 9 3/4 with your family and Sirius, saying goodbye to your parents when you noticed Sirius glaring at something past your head. Turning around you see Regulus and his parents. Regulus looked even more exhausted than usual and even from the distance you could see him tensing up as his father put his hand on Regulus shoulder.
Something had happened over the holydays, you could tell.
James voice ripped you out of your thoughts. "Hey what are you two staring at?"
"Nothing." 
You answer immediately, turning back around and hugging your parents one last time. 
"Come on or we'll miss the train." 
That night during dinner you kept catching yourself looking at Regulus. Each time you seemed to notice a new reason to worry.
First how tense he seemed, then his eyebags, worse than you've ever seen them, how he fully ignored all his friends, how he made sure that his hair was alwas covering his left cheekbone and temple, how he seemed to constantly have a hand holding his ribs.
At one point you cought his eyes, giving him the slightest smile, hoping no one else caught it. 
You mouthed 'astronomy tower' hoping that he saw it, before turning back to your friends to answer the question that Marlene had just asked.
That night when you arrived at the tower Regulus was already there, sitting with his back against the wall and his head down, just like he first time you met him there. 
But this time when you sat next to him and he looked up at you, you could see the tears in his eyes threatening to fall. Without a word you pulled him into a hug, his head laying against your shoulder, and just held him as his tears finally spilled.
He didnt make a sound, he just silently let his tears fall. And you held him through it.
It took him about 20 minutes before he pulled away from you. He didn dare look into your face, just sitting right next to you staring at the stars.
After a minute or so of you observing his face you finally asked softly.
"What happened?"  
He didnt say anything for a few seconds. He didnt react at all. You thought maybe he didnt hear you but right as you opened you mouth to ask again, he finally answered.
"How much has Sirius told you about our family?" His voice was quiet and broken.
"A lot. He's told us pretty much anything they would do to him." 
He took a deep breath before he talked again, still refusing to look at you.
"When he was still there, they never really did anything to me. But when he left..." He swallowed "they needed someone else to blame all their problems on. They started to find faults in me. I pretty much became Sirius replacement. When they were angry they let it out on me. The night he left was the worst. I had begged him too stay. But he didnt. He just left me there. And they let all their anger about the situation out on me."
 His voice was shaky and quiet. He sounded unsure if he should be telling you this.
You honestly were surprised that he told you this. Even if you had been "hanging out" for almost half a year now. You didnt think he trusted you like this. And he proboaly didnt.
"Regulus.." His name left your mouth in a whisper. You had never called him by his first name before. 
Hearing his name out of your mouth finally made him look at you.
You slowly grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I'm so sorry.." 
His gaze drifted from you face to your now joined hands. You expected him to pull his hand away but he just looked away at the stars again.
Neither of you said anything else.
That night was a turning point for both of you.
You stopped being hateful to each other in public. You werent friendly either. It was a silent truce. Your rivalry for top of the class was still there but it was less hateful.
Your nightly meetings slowly turned into talking about feelings. He told you about his friends, the few that were actually decent. Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch jr and Pandora Lestrange. Those were the three that actually semed pretty nice. According to Regulus they didnt really care that much about blood  status, Regulus didnt either. He had learned a lot from Sirius perspective, he was just way more scared of their parents, so he hid his opinions. 
You told him about your family problems, even though they were miniscule in comparison. About how you always felt like you stood in james shadow. 
Over time you and Regulus had come to a point were you honestly considered each other friends.
You still didnt tell any of your friends or you brother about it. You knew they wouldnt take it well.
But all of them noticed a change in you. How you seemed happier.
"Are you dating someone?" 
You nearly choked on your food, when Marlene asked that all of the sudden during dinner. 
"What?!" All conversation between your friends had halted as they all looked at you expectantly. "No! Why would you think that?" 
James looked stupidly relieved at that. He never liked the thought of you dating someone. 
It was Sirius that answered your question.
"Oh, c'mon. Even a blind person can see that you act different." You just looked at him confused. so he clarified. "You are so much happier, you constantly smile at nothing, you zone out. You're either dating someone or you have a big fat crush on someone. So go on. Spill." 
Your eyes widen in shock. Had you really been that obvious? Yes ,during the past few months you may have developed a little cush on the younger Black. But c'mon that obvious? 
But obviously you couldnt tell your friends that. Especially not Sirius and James. They would die of a heart attack on the spot.
"Do you really think if i had a crush on someone i wouldnt tell any of you? Not even Marlene or Lilly?" That was a good safe. Because yes, you usually told the girl pretty much every detail of your life. Even when you had a crush on Remus back in 4th year before you knew that he was gay. And very much in love with Sirius.
Sirius deflated on that. "Yea.. i guess that is true."
They finally picked up their previous conversations and you stole a quick glance at the slytherin table. But instead of Regulus eyes you met those of Evan Rosier. 
He had his eyes already on you and winked at you with a sly grin when our eyes met. Next to him Regulus had noticed that exchange and hit Evan in the side with his elbow. You looked at them confused as Regulus angrily whispered something to Evan who just laughed in reply.
Had Regulus told them? You made a mental note to ask him that night.
When your eyes finally went back to your friends you met Remus eyes who just lifted one eyebrow and smiled knowingly at you. 
You ignored him and went back to eating.
Later that evening you were sat in the common room doing potions homework when Remus excused himself from the boys to walk over to you. You looked up at him for a second as he sat down next to you before going back to writing. 
"You know, at some point they're gonna find out." 
"I have no idea what you're talking about Rem." He couldnt know. Right?
"Yea you do. You know, you're lucky that i'm the one that keeps the map most nights."
At that you froze. Your quill a few centimeters over your parchment. 
The map. 
Shit.
How did you forget about that.
Remus noticed your stressed facial expression. 
"They dont know. I havent told them dont worry. " You relaxed a little at that. "But you know its only a matter of time before one of them finds out."
You let out a breath that you didnt realize you were holding before putting down your quill, frowning at the spot of ink on you parchment, that had dripped from the quil. 
"How long have you known?" 
"Right before The holidays." 
"Rem that is so long! Why didnt you tell me that you know?!" You whisper yelled to make sure none of the other boys heard you.
"I wanted you to tell me when you were ready."
Your face softens. Of course. You dont answer.
"Sooooooo... you want to talk about it? He sure has you happy so he clearly cant be that bad." He says with a smile.
"You have no idea." You grin.
That conversation led to an almost 1 hour long talk of you talking about Regulus. How nice he is. How attractive, because god did you find him attractive. You told him about Regulus friends. How you think that at least Evan knows. Why Regulus is actually mad at Sirius. Everything. Because you knew that Remus wouldnt tell anyone. He has always been good at keeping secrets.
"You are so whipped for him, oh my god.." He told you at the end of your rant with a small chuckle.
You felt your face get hot. "Oh fuck off. Like you arent evenly as whipped for Sirius."
"Oh low blow." You just stuck out your toungue at him in response.
Remus then got a little more serious again. "Are you gonna tell him that you like him?"
You bit the inside of your lip. "I dont know Rem. I dont think he likes me like that and i dont wanna destroy something good yk."
"Yea i know what you mean." He looks over at Sirius.
You change the topic slightly. "So, uhh.. take the map tonight?"
He looks back at you with a grin. "Yea i got it. I'm gonna go back to the others. You finish that homework before you leave tonight."
"Yea, yea, whatever."
That night your walk to the astronomy tower is interrupted.
"Oi Potter!" You stop and turn around in surprise to see a ginning Evan Rosier.
"Rosier? What do you want?" 
"Oh nothing really" He is a bad liar. "Where're you headed to after curfew?"
You narrow your eyes at him. "I dont see why that is any of your business."
He knows. And you know that.
"Alright fine. I know you're meeting with Reg." You sigh and turn back around to continue your walk to the tower.  Evan quickly follows you.
"Listen, Reg kinda let it slip that you guys have been meeting up." 
"Okay? That still doesnt answer why youre talking to me right now."
"Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot." He is grinning from ear too ear now. 
But its what he said that makes you pause in your steps for a second. 
"What?"
"Oh yea, boy is smitten." He grins but immediately notices his mistake and his smile drops. "No wait. Forget i said that. You didnt hear anything okay?"
Your face is flushed now. Did Evan just tell you that Regulus likes you? Like... Like liked you?
"Uhm- Right."
"But just hypothetically... if you did hear something.... Would that something be reciprocated or not? Because if it was i wouldnt feel so bad for you hypothetically hearing something."
You dont even know what to say to that. You really didnt want to tell Evan about your crush on Regulus. Sure he trusts Evan but you really didnt know the guy.
"None of your business Rosier." You start walking again, while Evan just stays were he is. 
"Im taking that as a yes. Dont tell Reg that i hypothetically told you that. Im not ready to die yet." 
"Whatever Rosier!"
Your thoughts are racing. Regulus likes you. Except Evan is just trying to mess with you. But that doesnt seem like something he would do. Atleast not from what Regulus told you.
You are so in thought that you almost dont notice Regulus waiting when you reach the top of the tower.
You only snap out of it when you hear him call your name. 
"You good?"
"Hm? Oh yea. Sorry, just thinking." You sit down next to him, like always and pull out your pack of cigarettes. You kept stealing them from Sirius and he kept wondering how they keep dissappearing.
"About?" 
"Rosier just talked to me." You werent gonna tell him about the hypothetical thing Evan told you. But you were definetely gonna talk to him about the fact that Evan knew.
"Evan? Why?" He reached over, pulling a cigarette out of your pack without asking.
"He knows?" Was all you answered as you pull your lighter out of your jacket.
Regulus laughed nervously. "Uh- yea, i mightve slipped up on that. Sorry. I swear he wont tell anyone." 
"Its fine, you can tell your friends as long as they keep it to themselfs." You lift your lighter to light your own cigarette, when Regulus suddenly leans into your space to light his cigarette at the same time as yours. His face only centimeters away from yours. 
You flush. Fuck that was hot. He leans back with a slight grin. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.
"Any of your friends know?" He asks as if he didnt just do that. Fucker.
"Well.. Remus knows. I didnt tell him. He figured it out on his own." You stammer out. 
Goddamn it. 
"Lupin? Makes sense. Hes smart. He knows everything." 
"Yea except for the fact that Sirius is painfully obvious in love with him. Thats the one thing he doesnt seem to notice."
"Wait what?" He seems confused. Shit. Did you just out Sirius to his brother? You thought he knew.
"Did- Did you not know Sirius is gay?"
"No, that much is obvious." Oh thank god. "I meant, Those two arent a couple?"
That makes you laugh. 
"No! They've been in love with each other for years but are the only ones that havent realized it yet."
Regulus is both surprised and amused by that information.
"They had me fooled. I thought they've been together for forever." He's barely holding back his laughter.
"Nope just incedibly dense. Both of them." 
Neither of you can stop the laughter at that point.
You think that this might be the most genuine laughter and smile you've ever seen from Regulus. 
Your laughter dies down a little as you look at him. His head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in a bright grin as he laughs. He looks beautiful.
You just stare for a few seconds, with a soft smile on your face.
He stops laughing and notices your staring.
"What?" He asks, smile still on his face.
"You're Beautiful." You answer without thinking about it.
When you see his pale face flush a light pink shade in surprise you realize what you just said and look away in embarrassment.
"I- Uh- I mean.." Fuckfuckfuck. Why did you just say that. Its true yea, but still. Oh my god. You are such an idiot.
"So are you." Those three words are all it takes for your rambling thoughts to dissapper fully. 
Brain empty.
You look back at him. His face is still a little pink but he has a little smile adorning his lips.
You dont know what to answer so you just stare in silence. Evans words from earlier come back to your mind.
Well our Reggie seems pretty over the moon with you ,so i wanted to see for myself. He likes you you know. Like a lot.
FUCK. You are a goner at this point.
Luckily for you Regulus seems to notice your inner turmoil and changes the conversation to something easier without a second thought.
"So, did you finish that potions homework yet?"
You are honestly thankful thatt he is just able to do that. Make you think about something else.
But for the rest of the night, hell for the rest of the week all you can think about is that moment.
The next day all your friends can tell that you are even more in thought than usual but they know better than to press on it.
Except for Remus. Between classes he pulls you aside to ask what happened. You tell him everything. 
From Evans slip up to Regulus calling you beautiful.
"Thats great! To me thats a clear sign that he likes you too." 
"But Rem what if i'm misinterpreting?!"
"You literally have confirmation from his best friend."
You dont have more time to talk about it because both of you have to get to your next classes.
But you keep thinking about the whole thing.
You could tell that something had changed between Regulus and you. Not in a bad way, you dont think.
You caught him looking at you more often. During meals, during class, during your meetings. You noticed because you were also looking at him more often. 
Eye contact for a few seconds to long and smiling before one of you would look away.
This went on for about two weeks. How often had you thought about kissing him during those two weeks? You had lost count. 
Then one night, Regulus had just made a joke that you had both laughed at for far to long, and when you finally stopped you realized how close you faces had gotten. 
Regulus had noticed too.
You were staring at each other, you eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back up. Your tongue darting out to wet your lips in a nervous tick as you caught his eyes looking at your lips too.
You subconciously moved even closer, noses now centimeters away from brushing against each other.
Regulus is the one that asks in almost a whisper "Can I kiss you?"
You cant get any words out so you simply nod your head ever so slightly.
Regulus leans towards you, closing the gap between you in a soft kiss. 
Its not heated, not rushed, its slow, soft and full with emotions.
Its perfect.
When you part, neither of want to fully pull back. Your noses still almost touching.
After a few second you gain your voice back and admit in a whisper.
"I really like you Regulus"
"Merlin I would hope so." He answers with chuckle. "I like you too."
You lean in to kiss him again. 
And again.
The rest of that night included a lot more kisses. As well as a talk about what you you were to each other. You were glad about that. Not knowing would have killed you probably.
You both came to the conclusion that you wouldnt be telling people (Except the ones that you trusted) but that you are in fact dating.
You wished that you could stay like that all night but unfortunately both of you needed sleep.
"Goodnight Reg" 
You kissed him one more time before starting to walk away, his hand in yours as long  as you could.
"Goodnight mon cherie." You smiled to yourself all the way back to your dorm.
The next morning Remus knew. He just knew it from one look at you. You were honestly so glad that he knew and you were able to tell him everything.
The last few months until summer went well. Hang outs, kisses and talking. Regulus also at some point properly introduced you to Evan. Honestly the two of you hit it of really well. 
The closer summer got, the more nervous both you and Regulus got. 
He would have to go back to his parents and you wouldnt be able to write each other without his parents asking questions.
You spent the last night before summer in eachothers arms, telling him to be careful. You didnt want to part from each other but reluctantly did so right before sunrise with a long, loving kiss.
That morning both of you kept stealing glances at each other, Remus doing his best to ease your worries.
On the platform you barely had enough time to see Regulus dissappear with his parents.
"You coming?" You turned around at James question.
"Yeah."
The first half of the summer was pretty uneventful, even though you still worried about Regulus.
For the second half, Remus had joined your family.
A week later you were helping your mother prepare dinner when you heard a soft knock on your front door.
Confused you turned toward Euphemia.
"Are we expecting someone mum?"
"Not that i know of. Would you mind checking who it is darling?"
"Sure." You quickly put down the plate you were previously holding and went to answer the door.
On the other side was the last person you expected to see. 
"Reggie?" Your voice filled with worry and almost a whisper. 
Regulus looked bad. Almost worse than Sirius when he appeared at your doorsttep a year and a half prior. He was bleeding and bruised, and looked like he was minutes away from keeling over.
His eyes met yours, filled with tears that were steadily flowing down his cheeks.
"I didnt know were else to go..." His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming and shaky from crying.
Before he had even finished his sentence he had stepped towards you, nearly falling into your arms. You hugged him back while pulling him back into the house with you with a small "cmon..".
Inside you let go of him, carefully guiding him into the living room and onto your couch only stopping near the kitchen to yell to your mother.
"Mum! We need the healing kit!"
Your mother immediately stuck her head out the kitchen door to see what was going on.
"Oh dear." She quickly left to get the kit.
Meanwhile you had carefully sat Regulus onto your couch,sitting next to him and holding his hand, scared that hugging would hurt him. You didnt need to ask what had happened. That much was pretty obvious.
"Regulus." You urged him to look at you with a small squeeze of your hand. "Hey.. Its gonna be okay. Your safe now. I promise."
He didnt answer but layed his forehead onto your shoulder and squezed you hand back. He was still crying although not as hysterically anymore.
Euphemia entered the room, healing kit in hand and carefully sat infront of Regulus on the floor. You had done this before so she knew to be careful as not to scare him.
"Regulus right?" Her voice was soft and quiet as if she was talking to a scared animal. He didnt react so you nodded at your mother to confirm that she had the right name.
"Regulus, I'm gonna heal you now. But i have to touch you for that. Is that alright with you?"
Regulus nodded ever so slightly with his head still against your shoulder. Euphemia caught the slight movement and immediately started to examine the extent of his injuries before starting to heal them one by one. It would take a while and she wouldnt be able to heal all of them fully right that moment. It had been the same with Sirius.
You quietly soothed him through all of it. Continuing to hold his hand, your thumb stroking over the back of his hands while you whispered comforting words into his ear.
Unfortunately in the middle of all this our brother and Sirius had decided to make their entrance.
"Hey mum, is dinner almost ready?" James asked while he and Sirius came down the stairs.
But before Euhemia could answer you heard both boys exclaim at the same time.
"What the fuck??!"
"Regulus?!"
Both of you looked up at them at the same time. Regulus face still stained with tears and blood.
Sirius made his way over in a instant, sitting beside your mother and grasping Regulus other hand in his bigger ones. His eyes were filled with worry. Of course they were. Even if him and Regulus werent on good terms, he was still his brother. And seeing him like that made him fall back into that role within seconds.
"Shit, what happened?? Did they..??" He didnt finish his sentence. He didnt have to. Because he also knew. 
Regulus started tearing up again and turned his head towards you to try and hide it.
You instantly hugged him against you in comfort, your second hand reaching up to the back of his head to cradle it against the junction of your neck and shoulder.
"Sssh, its okay Reg." Your face pressed against the side of his head a told him that.
Your eyes met James over Regulus head. He just stood there perplexed. Not only was Regulus fucking Black bleeding in his living room, but he also cuddled up close to his sister like they were close.
You knew that you had a lot of explaining to do later, but right now you had different priorities.
So you ignored James and continued talking to Reglulus in a quite voice to help him calm down, occasionally pressing little kisses to his temple and hair.
When your mother was done, she slowly got up. "I'll leave you guys alone for a bit. If you need something just call." 
She left the room at the same time as Remus entered, having come down to see what was taking the boys so long.
Remus quickly hid his surprise at the fact that Regulus was here and simply asked "Is he okay?".
You simply looked at him and said "He will be."
After that you all sat in silence for a few minutes, only disruted by Regulus quiet sniffeles.
When he had finally calmed down again he still refused to let go of you.
Remus was the first to speak up. 
"I think he should take a shower, get all that blood of him. Prongs, Padfoot, wait in the kitchen well join you in a minute." 
Both boys started to protest but Remus wasnt having it and herded them to the kitchen looking back at you for a second.
" I got it Rem."
You helped Regulus up, guiding him to the bathroom.
Once you were there you closed the door behind you and turned towards Regulus.
He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards him. Being close to you always comforted him.
You reached up to carefully hold his face in your hands. 
"Are you okay?" Worry was evident in your eyes and voice.
"Now that im with you i will be." He answered quietly, leaning down to lay his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.
Your quiet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Hey." Remus. "Can i come in? I got you some clothes."
You pulled away from Regulus and opened the door, stepping aside slightly so Remus could hand Regulus the stack of dark clothing. 
"They're Sirius, so the should fit you." He then looked at you. "They have a lot of questions. You should come downsairs and talk to them."
You sigh. This was what you were scared of. "Okay, I'll be down is a few."
Remus nodded and sent one last smile at the two of you before leaving.
You turned towards Regulus again. "Do you need help with anything or are you good?" 
"I think im good" And then quieter. " Thank you. You dont understand how much all of this means to me." 
You smile at him and step closer to press a small kiss to his lips. "Of course. Im here for you. Always." Before leaving him to shower, closing the door behind you.
You take a deep breath before beginning your way to the kitchen. Halfway there you could already hear your brother.
"Why are you so calm about this Moony?! Did you know?!"
"Prongs will you calm down?"
"No-" 
All conversation halted when you entered the kitchen, all eyes turning to you.
James looked both confused and near furious and Sirius just looked confused. Like he wasnt sure what to make of the whole situation yet.
"Explain." Is all James said as he said down at the table and pointed at the chair across from him.
You said down and so did Sirius next to James, and Remus, next to you.
"After summer last year, I've started to go to the astronomy tower at night. Just for some peace and quiet, away from everything you know. 
One night he was there too. A few days after school start. He didnt really say anything. We just sat together. He didnt look good. Like, really tired and he had this giant bruise on his face. He had it hidden during the day, but that night i saw it. I didnt say anything about it, but i knew it was from his parents. 
After that night we just kept meeting there. We didnt talk, we really just sat in silence with each other. At some point i started to tell him about my day. He never said anything but he also kept coming."
You looked from James betrayed eyes down to your hands that layed intertwined with each other on the table.
"Then after christmas break, he looked so much worse than before. And that night he broke down. And he told me everything. About his parents. And how much worse the got after Sirius left." 
Your eyes flicked to Sirius face. Guilt written all over it.
"After that we just started talking to each other. About anything. He even introduced me to a few of his friends. They're honestlyy really nice. They dont support their parents ideas really. And a few months ago..."
You looked at Remus. His expression encouraging you to continue. 
Fuck it. Just rip of the bandaid.
"A few months ago we kissed and we've kinda been dating since then." Your eyes were glued to a little scratch in the surfice of the table. Refusing to meet James or Sirius glances.
"WHAT?!"
"Prongs. Calm down. I think they're good for each other. Its their life. Not yours." Thank merlin that Remus exists. You didnt know what you would do without him.
"How long have you known about is Moony?!"
Remus looked down for a second before meeting James eyes again. "Right before christmas."
James was about to answer something probably dumb, when Sirius suddenly turned towards you.
"I cant believe you wouldnt tell me you were in a relationship."
You chuckled nervously. "Thats the part that bothers you about this?"
"YES! And also I'm trying to focus on something that isnt the fact that your DATING MY LITLE BROTHER... so i dont freak out." You could tell that he was really trying.
"Im sorry i didnt tell you. I was just worried how you would react." You said apologetically.
"For good reason." Remus mumbled making you smile slightly.
James face softened. "Well.. as much as i dont agree with this. And i dont. For the record. Remus is right. Its your life. But if he tries to pull something you tell me alright? And ill take care of it."
"Oi thats my little brother your talking about!" That made you smile. At least they're trying. "But seriously, if he tries something you tell us." 
"He wont. But thank you." You smile at them. Remus laying his hand on your shoulder making you look over at him.
Then Sirius half joking, half serious voice makes you look at him again.
"But seriously my brother? Why? Out of everyone."
"Wow Sirius. I feel kind of attacked." At the sound of Regulus voice you quickly turn around.
He stood a meter behind your chair , black hair wet and tousled, his tall slim frame clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a black sabbath shirt. 
"Reg. How're you feeling?" Your voice was still filled with worry even though Regulus already looked a lot better. You held your hand out towards him, beconing him closer.
He took your hand, walking over to sit in the open chair to your left. Remus being on your right.
"Better." He said a soft smile on his face, as he just looked at you for a moment.
You smiled back at him before saying "I think we should get mum back and finish making dinner. You hungry?" 
"Starving." It sounded like a joke but honestly with his parents you could never know.
"Remus, make sure they're being civil okay?" You spoke as you got up, squeezing Regulus shoulder in passing. "I'll be right back."
Just as you left the room you could hear Sirius whine. "Moony we're always civil! I dont know what they mean."
"Yea yea Padfoot whatever you say." You could pracicaly hear the adoring smile in Remus voice.
Surprisingly when you came back with your mother, no one was dead. 
Your mother had pulled both you and James with her to help with the food, giving him the perfect oppertunity to keep asking you annoying questions about you and Regulus. 
Remus offered to set the table, giving Sirius and Regulus a chance to talk. Something they hadnt properly done in years. You didnt hear what they said but it ended in a hug so at least it was good.
Dinner was kind of awkward. Your Dad having to quickly be filled in on what happened when he arrived in the kitchen.
Regulus was given the guest room to sleep in, Remus had been sleeping in James and Sirius room anyways. So when you were sure he three boys were in bed you snuck into the guest room, cuddling up with Regulus under the blanket.
"I saw you speaking with Sirius earlier." He hummed in reply, his face hidden in your hair, his left arm around your waist, holding you close to him.
"Did you talk everything out?" You turn slightly in his hold so you could look a him. Your faces now right infront of each oher.
"Not everything. Thats gonna take a while. But he apologized. Its a start." His voice was low and tired.
" Thats good. I know how much you both missed each other." Again he simply hummed in response.
"I think we should sleep." You say with a grin. "You're barely awake anyway." Another hum.
You lean forward for a soft kiss. He kissed back. "Goodnight mon cherie."
You smile. "Sleep well Reggie." 
He cuddled back into you, his face against your neck, arms holding you close, legs tangled with yours.
You smile at his almost asleep form. 
He was okay. 
He was safe.
And he was yours.
And maybe. Just maybe. You would be okay.
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turvi · 3 months
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Almost
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WARNING: KIDNAPPING
This was not a way to live. Stealing people's food, using a torn newspaper as a blanket in this harsh cold Remus thought it was better to be dead than alive until one day he found a thick envelope under his collection of newspaper. His eyes widened. Someone left him £2000 with a promise for more if he could kidnap the Commissioner of Police's daughter Y/n. What will Remus do?
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moon-witchs-world · 11 months
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Growing Pains - Remus J. Lupin part 2
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Growing Pains – part two
A Hogwarts Tale
Remus Lupin x Fem!WitchReader
2,8k words
Summary: In 1994 both reader and Remus Lupin are newly appointed teachers at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. They meet again after 13 years, when they last saw each other at the very same school. Remus struggles with his secret being shared with the full staff and Y/N struggles with feelings she has for a certain someone.
This is part two of a multiple part series. You can find part one here
Masterlist
Your first few weeks of teaching flew by. You were pleasantly surprised by the level of skill some of your students had already reached. In particular there was a girl of Gryffindor house in her third year who hadn’t failed to answer a question correctly yet. It filled you with joy to teach the students and see their confidence grow and spell work improve over the weeks.
But not everything was great. After your confrontation in the corridor after the welcoming feast, Remus Lupin had been avoiding you. He hardly ever showed up at neither breakfast nor lunch and he was always one of the first to arrive and leave at the dinner table. Your full schedule of teaching prevented you from arriving at dinner early so you missed him almost every time. When you were both in the staff room at the same time, he avoided your gaze or simply left.
Over the past couple of weeks you had seen Remus a couple of times in passing, but that was all. You hadn’t picked up the courage to stop by his office to talk to him, too afraid he would get mad again. But still, he was on your mind more often than you’d like to admit.
On this particular afternoon, you decided to go to the staff room. You enjoyed being there. Most of the time it was a quiet, warm place where there was always a fresh pot of coffee and some snacks to be found. You had spent many hours curled up in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace reading, preparing lessons or correcting homework. You would be doing a mixture of all three for a couple of hours before your next class and was hoping the room would be empty.
When you entered the staff room, you thought no one was there. That was until you saw someone sitting on the floor, in front of an old cupboard. His light-brown hair was even messier than usual and he hadn’t even noticed someone entered the room, he was lost in his thoughts.
‘Remus? I.. How are you?’ you said softly. It was obvious you had startled him.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there, Y/N,’ he answered. When he looked at you, you noticed he looked tired. With the full moon approaching, he was definitely not feeling great. He adverted his gaze and concentrated once more on the cupboard in front of him.  
‘What are you doing?’ you asked when he did not respond to your first question.
‘There’s a boggart in this cupboard. I intend to use it to teach my third-years, but I can’t seem to get the bloody cupboard to open,’ he growled. He got up and crossed his arms in front of him. You walked over and stopped in front of the cupboard.
‘Portabeto!’ you said with your wand pointed at the lock. The spell left a smoking hole where the keyhole used to be, but the door opened.
Remus looked at you and gave you a weak smile.
‘Of course. When alohomora didn’t work I was so surprised I didn’t know what to do,’ he said with a slight flush on his face.
‘We can’t all be spell enthusiasts,’ you said kindly. You just looked at each other for a moment. There was so much you wanted to ask him, but you weren’t sure of the timing. When a group of loudly chatting third-years entered the staff room, you raised your eyebrows at Remus.
‘Ah, yes. I invited the students here today to learn about boggarts. So if you don’t mind…’ he said, obviously wanting you to leave. You nodded, then leaned a bit closer so he could hear you while you whispered: ‘meet me tonight 8pm, my office. I need to talk to you in private.’ His green eyes pierced yours but without giving him the chance to answer, you left the staff room, hoping he would come.
~~**~~
It was almost eight o’clock when you put your quill down. After leaving the staff room you hadn’t seen Remus for the rest of the day. You had been determined to keep yourself busy grading essays while you waited for him in your office, but the nerves were getting the better of you. The longer you had to wait for him to arrive, the more you started to doubt whether it was stupid to invite him. Just then, you heard a soft knock on the door.
‘Come in!’ you said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. The door opened and Remus appeared. His hair a mess and he was wearing a particular shabby robe. 
‘Seventh floor, what a terrible location for an office. Lots… lots of stairs,’ he said with the tiniest trace of a smile, obviously a bit out of breath. You pointed at the window.
‘The view’s amazing though.’ He slowly walked to the window and peered out of it, hands in his pockets. You observed him for a moment. When he suddenly turned around and saw you staring you looked away quickly.
‘Please, sit down. Would you like some tea?’ you asked him. Remus nodded and sat down in the chair opposite you.
‘How was your day? Did it work out with the boggart?’ you asked while pouring two cups of herbal tea from the pot you just made. At first he seemed surprised. He obviously wasn’t expecting chit chat, but it felt weird not to at least make a bit of light conversation before you asked what you wanted to. He took the cup of steaming tea you handed him and then answered. 
‘It went really well, actually. The students really enjoyed themselves and learned a lot as well. I didn’t let Harry have a chance with the boggart. I was afraid it would take the form of Lord Voldemort, but I thought wrong. The boy came to see me after class and told me his biggest fear was a dementor, so basically fear itself. Highly intelligent young boy.’ Remus smiled while talking, it was obvious he liked the boy a lot. Then you realized something.
‘Harry Potter? Of course, James and Lily’s son. Must be hard to see him, he’s the spitting image of his father. And if I remember correctly, it’s not just his looks that he got from his father,’ you said with a smile. 
‘It’s hard. I miss James. But being able to teach his son is healing in a way,’ he answered, his voice soft, almost like a whisper.
You acted on impulse when you stretched out your hand and put it on his. He didn’t pull his hand away, but looked at you. His green eyes were so kind, it made you feel at ease. It felt like some kind of spell was broken when finally he did move his hand away and your fingers landed on the desk. 
‘But you didn’t invite me here to reminisce about old friends,’ he said with a more serious undertone. You hesitated for a moment, but then decided you just had to talk about it. There was no use dancing around it, Remus knew you asked him here to talk about something. 
‘So, the full moon is four days away,’ you said matter-of-factly. 
‘I’m well aware, thank you very much,’ he answered coldly. You took a deep breath.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘How do you think I’m feeling?’
‘I obviously want to hear it from you or I wouldn’t have asked,’ you said in the same cold tone as he had used before. You knew this conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant, but still you felt like you just had to have it. 
‘I obviously don’t want to talk about it or I would have done so myself,’ he said and he pushed his chair back, ready to get up and leave. 
‘Excuse me for being nice to you, Remus, because judging from the way you’re treating me you want to scare away the only person who’s actually really nice to you.’
You were both silent for a couple of seconds. Remus had averted his eyes, looking down at his own hands. 
‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’ 
When he looked at you again, you noticed his green eyes stared at you remorsefully. You didn’t say anything. Not only was it very painful to be rejected by him so loudly, you also didn’t know what to say, scared to anger him again. 
‘ I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk about it. You have enough on your plate already without my problems added to it as well,’ he said calmly. 
‘I have absolutely nothing on my plate. Consider my plate empty,’ you replied quickly. When he looked at you in disbelief, you knew you had pushed it too far.
‘Well, okay, it’s not exactly empty, but there is space. I wouldn’t ask if I couldn’t handle it, Remus.’
He sighed and then looked at you again as if he was trying to figure out if you could indeed handle it.
‘You’re not going to drop this, are you?’ he asked and you shook your head immediately. 
‘Not a chance.’ 
‘Why would you want to help me? Not only am I dangerous, I’m also a bit rude,’ he said. You raised one of your eyebrows.
‘A bit rude? Understatement of the century, mister Lupin.’ He laughed, the first genuine smile you saw from him in a long time.
‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been very rude. I thought it would scare you away, but you’re very persistent. And you’re avoiding my question. Why would you want to help me?’ he asked. He kept looking at you with his mossy eyes and you were the first to look away. 
‘I like you,’ you heard yourself say and immediately you wish you could take those words back. They sounded heavy, inappropriate and spoken too soon.
‘I mean when you’re not acting like a complete jerk, you’re actually really kind. And I strongly believe people shouldn’t be judged by something they can’t help. I know what it feels like to be isolated and alone and I don’t wish that upon anyone else. And you’re the only person who’s been genuinely nice to me, before you decided to ignore me for weeks.’ Your words tumbled out of your mouth quickly. 
 Remus seemed to consider your words for a bit.
‘I thought you and Severus were very good friends,’ he suddenly said. For a moment you thought he was kidding, but the serious look on his face told you otherwise.
‘Friends? Not at all. We sometimes sit next to each other at breakfast. And last week, I  let him borrow one of my books. Yeah, that’s about the depth of our friendship,’ you said sarcastically.
‘He speaks very highly of you to the other teachers. I’ve never heard him compliment another person ever before, so I assumed you must be friends. But then again, he always had a thing for bright and pretty witches.’ Remus’ flushed cheeks matched your own in the silence that followed.
‘Okay, he officially freaks me out even more now. But stop changing the subject. We were going to put your problems on my almost empty plate,’ you encouraged him.
‘Well, as you might have noticed with the full moon approaching, I start to feel different. On edge. My temper is short. I sleep badly. My body aches. The Wolfsbane potion will make sure I get to keep my sanity when I tranform. When I first arrived at Hogwarts, Dumbledore arranged a place where I could go during my transformations. I will go there again during the full moon. Should keep me and everyone else safe. When the full moon is over, I return to the castle and need a few days to recover.’
When he stopped talking you looked at him. It seemed as if a certain weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 
‘Your turn,’ he said. You looked at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Well, since we’re sharing our deepest, darkest truths, I want you to tell me about your late husband.’
It felt as if all the oxygen had disappeared from the room. You felt uneasy, overwhelmed by a sudden knot in your stomach and a lump in your troath. 
‘I don’t talk about that.’
‘Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Y/N. I talked about the wolf thing, you talk about this. I want to understand it. Support you.’
You knew Remus was right. It would help to talk about it to someone new. Someone who wasn’t there when it happened, who never even knew your late husband that well. You had always had a hard time talking to people about your husband’s death when they had their own grief as well. You never felt like you could openly talk about him because you wanted to reassure others. You considered for a moment, then decided you wanted to talk about it to Remus. He would listen to your every word and maybe that was exactly what you needed right now. 
‘After we left Hogwarts, he became an auror. He was a very good one. Great at defensive spells. Everyone loved working with him, felt safe when he was around. On that particular day, he and his colleague were called to this abandoned house. People in the neighborhood had been hearing screaming and weird noises for weeks. My husband and his colleague entered the house and they split up to search it.’
You stopped talking for a moment. You were getting to the part of the story that was hard to tell. Remus noticed this and this time it was him who leaned forward to grab your hand. He gave an encouraging squeeze and you took a deep breath before you continued to talk.
‘He went to inspect the upstairs area. It was an ambush. There were several Death Eaters there waiting for him. He got hit by a killing curse from one of them. I later found out my husband had been responsible for arresting a huge number of Death Eaters and this was their revenge. His colleague was able to escape.’ Your eyes felt watery and you stared at your hand, the one that was still covered with Remus’ scarred one. He was the first to speak again.
‘You said he had gotten into an accident at work. This was definitely not an accident.’ Suddenly you just couldn’t remain seated. You got up and started pacing. You heard Remus get up as well and you stopped in front of the window, with your back to him so he wouldn’t see the few tears that had escaped from your eyes. 
‘I know it wasn’t an accident, it just sounds better, so that is what I usually say when I can’t avoid the subject,’ you replied after a while. Remus didn’t say anything, but he had walked up to you, stopped when he was just inches away from you. You could feel his warm breath against your hair. He put an arm around your shoulders and pulled your body against his. There was no need to talk. Nothing to say, just being held by him was all you needed in that moment. There was an urge to turn around and kiss him, but you weren’t brave enough. 
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. You two broke apart as if you were being struck by lightning.  
‘Come in,’ you said after quickly wiping your eyes. The door opened and Severus Snape appeared, holding a smoking goblet. He was looking through the curtains of his greasy hair with a look of disgust on his face. 
‘There you are, Lupin. Minerva said you asked her for directions to Y/N’s office so I knew where to find you. You seem to have forgotten your potion. A very unwise action so close to the full moon, but apparently you were too caught up seducing our new Charms Professor,’ he said coldly. 
‘Severus, thank you. I seem to have forgotten the time. I apologize,’ Remus said quickly, but Severus ignored him. 
‘Is everything okay, Y/N? I’d like to remind you that the full moon is only four days away and when the wolf in question is so indifferent about taking his potion on time, you should be careful around him,’ he said to you, his black eyes piercing yours. Before you could respond, Severus left again. 
‘Yeah. I should leave as well. I need to take this potion and I need to rest. It was lovely talking to you, Y/N,’ Remus said. 
You nodded. You had no idea what to say to him. You wanted him to stay, but felt like you couldn’t ask that. You weren't sure why you felt so brave all of a sudden, but you got on you tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body towards yours in a tight embrace. For a moment you stood there, his strong arms squeezing around you tightly. You never wanted this moment to stop, but after a while you broke apart.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Y/N,’ he said before he left, leaving you alone with your confusing feelings.
Part three
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thatboisus · 1 month
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maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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A Christmas Special
summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you
cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words
Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 
He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 
Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 
Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 
“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 
“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 
“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 
Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 
Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 
“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 
You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.” 
Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 
“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 
“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 
You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 
“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 
“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 
You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 
Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch. 
“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 
“Mhm. You like them?” 
“Never had one.” 
Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 
You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 
“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 
“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 
“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle. 
“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 
“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 
Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 
You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 
You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 
“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 
You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 
“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”
Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 
“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 
“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 
“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 
“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 
“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 
Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 
“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 
“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 
“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 
“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.
“I know you are, but what am I?” 
“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 
James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 
“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 
“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”
You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 
“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 
“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.” 
“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 
James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 
Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 
“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”
“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”
“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”
You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 
James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there. 
“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 
The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 
“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 
“Shit, I forgot to check.” 
“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.” 
“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 
“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 
“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 
Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 
He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 
You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 
“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”
You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 
“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.
“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 
“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”
You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 
“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 
Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 
“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 
“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 
You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 
“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 
Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 
You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 
James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”
Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 
Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.” 
“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”
“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 
You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”
Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”
“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 
“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 
He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”
“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.” 
“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 
“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.
“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 
“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.
“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”
You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 
“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 
“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 
“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 
“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 
“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 
Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 
And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 
“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 
“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”
“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”
“Mmm, a Christmas film?”
“Obviously.” 
The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you. 
The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”
You look over at him. “Hm?”
“You’re frowning.”
“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 
His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”
“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”
“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”
You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.
The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 
“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end. 
Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 
“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 
“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 
“Sure it is.”
“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 
“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 
And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.
You hum a denial.
“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”
“Are you tired?” 
He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 
“I want to finish the movie.” 
He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 
The credits start, and neither of you move. 
You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”
“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”
You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 
Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”
You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 
“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 
You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”
“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 
You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 
His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 
You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 
“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 
“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”
“Your back will hurt.” 
“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 
There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 
“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”
“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”
The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 
“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 
He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”
You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 
“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 
“You can think that if you like.” 
“Want to watch this one next?”
“Sure.”
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.
Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him. 
He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 
Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 
“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 
It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 
You hum. 
“Unless you mean it’s working.” 
Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  
He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 
“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 
He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 
“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 
He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 
Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”
You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 
He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 
Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 
“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 
Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.
“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 
The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”
You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”
His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 
You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 
“Do you want to move to my room?” 
You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 
“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 
“You’re relentless.”
Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.
“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 
Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 
❆ ❆ ❆
You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 
You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 
You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 
“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 
Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 
Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 
You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 
“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”
Exactly, you think. It’s you. 
“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 
His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”
If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 
“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 
You swallow. “Okay.” 
“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 
You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 
One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 
“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 
It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 
“We can stop anytime you want.” 
You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”
You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 
Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.
You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 
Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 
“Is this okay?” you ask. 
His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 
“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 
He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 
“Come here,” you plead. 
He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.
“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 
You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 
“Do you think—can we—”
He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 
“I want to. Do you?” 
Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 
You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 
He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 
“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 
You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 
“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 
He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 
“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 
Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 
“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 
“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 
“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”
“Mhm.”
He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 
Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 
“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 
The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 
“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 
The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 
“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.
“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 
It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 
“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 
Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 
Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 
“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.” 
“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”
The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 
You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 
“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 
“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”
You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 
“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.
“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 
His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 
Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 
“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 
You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 
“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 
“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 
“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 
You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 
“That was really great,” you tell him. 
“I thought so too.” 
“You’ll stay here, right?” 
A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 
❆ ❆ ❆
Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 
It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 
Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 
Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 
He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 
“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 
Mind? Remus can’t even think. 
“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 
“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 
“Yeah, thanks.”
You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 
“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 
His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 
“Really?” 
A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 
“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 
“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 
You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better. 
“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 
There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 
They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 
With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 
“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 
A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 
There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.” 
It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 
Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 
“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 
“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 
“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”
“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 
You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.
“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 
You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 
Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 
You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 
You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 
He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?
He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 
So much for opposites attract. 
“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 
“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 
“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”
“Remus?” 
Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 
“Your pancake…”
He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 
“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 
Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 
“Would you come here?” he asks. 
You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now. 
“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”
“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 
“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 
You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”
“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 
“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 
“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 
You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 
“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 
Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 
“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.” 
“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 
Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 
“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 
“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 
Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 
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Text
A kiss amidst the bookshelves
pairing: Remus x reader
word count: 2k
tags / description: friends to lovers, first kiss, steamy kiss, bookish Remus and reader, best friend Sirius, friendship fluff, romance fluff, gn
“You look like you’re about to murder him,” Sirius snarks, falling into the sofa next to you amidst the noise of the party surrounding you, following your gaze across the room.
“I…” you begin your routine protesting but give it up. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, surprised. 
“You…?”
An exasperated sigh, then, “I… it… ugh,” you drop your face into your palms and speak into them, “Murder would simplify things.” Sirius barks a laugh in response. 
“Do you want an accomplice in offing our best mate?” His smile is conspiratorial, but there’s something in his eyes behind his typical teasing tone. 
“Would you mind? I don’t know if I can go through with it,” you joke seriously. “If you do the killing part, I promise I’ll help hide the body.” Sirius, smiling but knowing, pulls you into him, his arm around your shoulders, your head coming to rest on him. 
“To be fair, that would probably be the more difficult part,” he continues, and he feels your chuckle against his chest. “I know I can take him, but our Moony is pretty tall; it might pose a problem when we have to move him after.”
An affirmative “hm” is all you offer in response, basking in his warm comfort silently for a moment. 
“Or…” he cuts the quiet. “And hear me out here, love. I know homicide will seem the more appealing option initially… but you could, you know, tell him how you feel.” 
“Murder. I choose murder,” you deadpan.
“Y/NNN,” he whines with the tinge of a scold. 
“Siriusss,” you mimic childishly. 
He sighs and says, “Darling, I know it’s scary,” he squeezes you, “but your miserable pining is seriously starting to bum me out. I don’t know how much more I can take honestly.” You pull away from him and shove his shoulder as he chuckles. “Alright, alright, sorry. I suppose I’m slightly concerned for your happiness as well.” The energy between you shifts palpably. You don’t get this side of Sirius much, and the gravity of it shakes you. 
“I can’t,” you whisper, looking down. 
“You can,” he responds immediately, gently pushing your chin up, his thumb stroking your jaw. 
“Everything alright?” a third voice, achingly familiar, startles you. You rush to wipe the ghosts of tears before turning to where he’s taking a seat on the arm of the sofa, looking down at you and Sirius. 
“All good, mate,” Sirius answers before you have to, and you grin gratefully at him. 
“Sure?” Remus checks, looking straight at you, feigning levity.
“Yeah, ‘course,” you say lightly. “How’s Mary doing?” you ask, nodding to where he had just been chatting enthusiastically to her across the room. You’d always suspected they’d had feelings for each other back in your school days. “Good, good,” he nods. “We were just catching up, hadn’t seen her in a while. I might show her the shop next week actually. Think she’ll enjoy it.” You stomach sinks at this. “Oh yeah?” you hear the strain in your voice, your efforts at hiding your dismay clearly failing. So you quickly add, “That’s great, Rem. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Remus — the Remus that can read you like a children’s book — squints his eyes a bit at you, confused by your tension, probably still pondering the moment he interrupted between you and Sirius. 
The shop. Your shop. Your favourite place on Earth. A place you thought of as yours and his. I mean, it was, technically, but you know. You’d opened the bookshop together about a year ago now, and business was tough but picking up. Though you weren’t making much money (yet, hopefully), you and Remus were the happiest you’d been in years, finally doing something both of you found joy in, and together no less.
“Speaking of,” you start, stretching. “I have some work I wanted to finish, so I think I’m going to get going.” “Now?” he asks in disbelief. “It’s late, love. I don’t remember there being anything urgent?”
“No, I know; it’s not.” You get up a bit awkwardly. Standing in front of where he’s perched on the sofa, you’ve gone from looking up at him to down. He really is beautiful from any angle, you think to yourself. You realize you’re staring; you don’t know how strangely, but you see he’s looking expectantly at you, curiousity gleaming in his deep brown eyes. “Urgent, I mean,” you stutter out. “It’s just that inventory I’ve been trying to finish up.” 
“You can do that tomorrow,” he tries. “I’ll help.” “No, it’s alright, Rem, really. I just feel like it now.” You smile a strained smile with fake ease but real warmth. Then, shaking off the heaviness of the moment, you give him a quick hug, turn to give Sirius a quick peck on the cheek goodbye, and head out. 
You like the shop at night, when it’s empty and quiet. Well, sometimes it’s empty during the day as well, to be honest, but there’s something about the night and the blanket the darkness provides. You especially like it when Remus is there with you, but it’s nice when you’re alone too. Just you and the books and the sense that the shelves that envelop you hold endless possibilities and infinite feelings you can just melt into. 
You walk down the cramped aisles for a few minutes, your eyes and your fingertips tracing the titles. When you stumble on a comforting favourite, you pull it down, and nestle into one of the two inviting armchairs you and Remus had set up in a cosy corner of the small space. 
If it were any other activity, you would have been shocked at how quickly you were immersed, leaving the heaviness of your love and your worries in the real world to be picked up again on your way out. You are shocked, however, when, as you flip a page, a low voice says, “Hard at work I see.” 
You jump, dropping the book, and screech, “Fucking hell, Remus! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me.” He’s laughing like he can’t help himself as he kneels down in front of you to pick up the book, holding it in one hand and holding the other up in a gesture of guilty surrender. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “It’s not like I was quiet coming in.”
“Well, I didn’t hear you,” you shoot angrily. “Clearly.” He’s grinning as he offers you the book. “Good choice,” he adds, giving it a little shake.
“Yeah, well, it’s comforting every time.” Your tone is easier now but still a little edgy as you grab the book and place it on the little table beside you. 
“Hm.” He sounds serious; it makes you turn to him instinctively; you look into his concerned eyes. “And why did you need comforting this time?” His voice is a syrupy whisper, and his question makes time stand still.  
Because I love you too much, you idiot, you think but don’t say. “I’m fine,” you do say. 
“You’re not,” he responds. You look away.
“I’m fine enough.” 
“Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” he pleads, putting his hand on your knee. “You’ve been weird all night.” “Don’t deny it,” he adds when you open your mouth to say something immediately. It’s not harsh. You close your mouth again, but don’t know what to say instead. 
“Did something happen?” he prods after several moments. You stay silent, but tears well in your eyes, transfixed on his. He whispers your name lovingly and brings his other hand to your cheek, stroking gently. You nod before you can think yourself out of it. “I messed up, Rem,” you whisper. “When?” he asks, all kindness. After a mirthless chuckle you say, “Around when we were twelve I think. Maybe even eleven.” His thumb stops its comforting motion in his confusion; his eyebrows are furrowed; one side of his mouth seems conflicted about whether to laugh or not. “I don’t understand,” he says finally.
“It’s your fault, really,” you half-laugh, wiping your eyes. “What?” He tenses and pulls away from you, concern elevated to fear in his eyes and voice.
“I didn’t mean,” you start, leaning forward and grabbing his hands in yours. “That’s not what I meant.” Your voice is still tinged in a cynical snicker, but he’s clearly not amused.
“What did you mean then?” It’s sharper, and it hurts. 
“I…” Another chuckle. “Y/N,” losing patience. 
“Fuck, this is hard.” You take your hands back and cover your face with them, kneading in frustration. A beat. He says your name again, just as firm but much more gentle, and reaches for your hands, holding them again. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I thought you knew that. We can work through anything, together… but you have to talk to me. Did I do something?”
You look back and forth between his eyes, hear Sirius’s voice in your head: “you can,” and take a deep breath.
“You can tell me,” he repeats, and you believe him… but can’t bring yourself to it. 
“I can’t,” you whisper, and you hate the familiar sound of it in your ears. You see his posture sink in defeat, but he doesn’t let go of your hands. 
“Can I show you instead?” you ask, terrified of what came next, but more terrified of never finding out. He nods eagerly and goes to stand up, but you squeeze his hands tighter and hold him in place. He settles back down where he’s knelt in front of you, staring at you intently. You shift to the edge of the chair, quite close to him now. One of your hands releases his and comes up toward his face. You hear him gasp as you run your fingertips along his cheekbone then along a prominent scar there. You keep going and run your fingers through his hair then let your hand rest there, on the back of his head among his soft brown curls. You look down at his lips. Your gaze lingers there, making your intention obvious as you move even closer to him. He’s stock-still as you approach, but when your nose touches his, he lunges hungrily forward to meet you. 
He moans into your mouth as his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and yours comes up around his shoulders. Your chests are flush now, your legs open wider to accommodate his kneeling form in between them, leaning into you completely, devouring you. His lips work against yours, exploring; his hands, intent but indecisive, travel from pulling you close to holding your face firmly against his, his thumbs lovingly pushing into your jaw, his fingers wrapped in your hair. You immediately fall into a rhythm, opening your mouths to each other. He tastes like chocolate, and you giggle at the realization. Remus instinctively smiles at the sound of your laughter and the slight withdrawal from your mouth gives him the opportunity to trail away from your lips, slowly along your jaw, down to your neck, licking and lingering. You bare your neck to him, your breathing coming more heavily now, your grasp on him tighter. You grip his hair and croon his name, and he moans loudly. He gives your neck a final, wet kiss and pulls back to look at you.
His eyes are dark and lidded; his lips swollen and moist; his hair is messy, and the look on his face is one you’ve never seen before. He looks giddy and lustful simultaneously. Pulling your face to his with a hand at your nape, he rests his forehead against yours and gives you a hungry kiss, fast but firm. He chuckles. 
“I still don’t understand.” “What?” you smile. 
“How is this a problem?” His thumb is caressing you; his smile is beaming. 
“I didn’t know if you felt it too,” you confess. 
A teasing tsk then, “Quite daft for the cleverest person I know.” He brings your mouth to his again. 
~
smutty pt. 2!
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
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You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside. 
Well, it was nice enough outside. 
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
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“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
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You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
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“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded. 
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
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You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot. 
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it. 
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
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