#remus lupin x self insert

[are-we-nice]

Remus Lupin x flirty!reader | 272 words

How was Remus supposed to focus on books when the prettiest girl he'd ever seen was sitting right across from him?

When you and he got assigned as partners for Defense Against the Dark Arts, his heart almost stopped. He's had a massive crush on you for almost two years. He can barely keep his head on straight around you.

"So...where do you wanna start?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Er... uh, we can start with that one." He said awkwardly, pointing at a random book. He might just very well die.

"Oh, I think I've read this one." You said, picking up the book. You smiled fondly at it, almost like it was an old friend.

Remus looked up at you. "Do you read often?"

You laughed, surprised. "I almost always have a book, Lupin. Have your observation skills been failing you lately?"

"W- well, I thought you would be the type to read fiction." He replied, embarrassed. He covered his face to hide the never-ending blush that grew.

You shrugged. "Well, yeah, but I like to read all kinds of books."

He cleared his throat, removing his hand from his face. "Me too."

"Well, I guess we have more in common than you think." You say, smiling.

Were you...flirting with him? No, no. You couldn't be... unless?

"Yeah? Like what?" He says, immediately feeling the blush on his face.

You grinned. "You feeling sick, Lupin, or am I getting good at this?"

At that, the blush just got worse. You giggled as Remus groaned and hid his face again.

You two didn't get to much studying, but you did get something done.

A/N

Tumblr keeps getting rid of my paragraph breaks?? I'm using a weird writing app tho so it might be that. Thanks for reading <3

[moonstruckme]

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.” 

[bettysupremacy]

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.”

[lizpottersworld]

౨ৎ forever and always (remus lupin x reader)

summary: you and remus also enjoy a day at the library in hogwarts and discuss the future for you two.

pairings: remus lupin x female! reader

request here

remus and you were a very easy going couple. you both were best friends before even dating and already enjoyed spending time together, so the casual and usual things you would usually do as friends also came along in your relationship. obviously, only now including the touches and kisses in between each and every thing.

today was one of those dates, exams were coming up in the next few weeks and you both needed to get the revision in.

“how can you call studying, a date?” sirius grimaced, helping you carry your books to the library to where remus was waiting.

“well, me and remus can,” you sighed, “we know we love each-other and we don’t need anything too special to know that. plus we have exams in nearly a week.” you explained, taking the books back from sirius.

“only you and moony would say that.” sirius laughed, waving goodbye to you and skipping away back to annoy james in their dorm.

you scoffed hiding your laugh, pushing the door open with the nudge of your busy arm. not many students were in the library, only a few recognisable classmates and your effortlessly beautiful boyfriend.

he was glancing every so often from his book, looking for you. as you walked closer, he must have picked up on your footsteps and looked up with a bright smile on his face, leaving his seat to hug you.

as soon as you placed your books down, remus pulled you lovingly into a warm embrace, also busying your lips with a sweet and passionate kiss.

“you okay, dove?” remus asked, “missed you.” honey practically dripping from the sweetness of his voice. always being so soft and gentle when speaking with you for whatever reason.

“yeah, i’m good remmy, sirius helped me with my books.” you replied, appreciatively commenting on the friend of his that had helped you. which automatically made remus’ heart swell, both at the help of his friend and the nickname you had.

“well thats good,” he muttered kissing your forehead, “come on lets sit down, love.” he smiled, pulling out your chair and taking a seat himself.

the two of you studied in each-other’s company nearly all day, always choosing to hold hands or fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist whilst reading. it was sweet and comforting. being able to study in a relaxing silence whilst not feeling alone.

thats what it always felt like with remus, you were never alone. he was always there, through the hard days and the best days.

you hoped it would be like that forever. always having someone like remus in your life, or really just him in general. you were already used to having him in your busy life, keeping him through it all would just keep it even less stressful.

you two would graduate at Hogwarts, move into a cozy house in Scotland and find jobs that you both enjoyed. maybe even children were in the picture for the two of you, that was always what you dreamed of anyway. he was perfect for the kind of the life you wished for yourself, he was perfect for anything.

it was just a hopeful dream that you had. of staying with your first love after you finish school and continue to live out your life together, in all fairness the two of you were already half way there. it just depended on what he wanted, something you never thought to ask.

“you okay, dove?” he asked, soothingly rubbing the skin on your hand. you looked up bewildered, face softening at the care in his eyes.

“yeah, sorry, i was just thinking.” you smiled, moving the dusty blonde hair out of his face, hand resting on his soft cheek a little while longer. he immediately relaxed into your touch, closing his eyes for a few seconds longer then returning back to the conversation.

he hummed, “anything i can help you with?” he questioned, kissing the hand that you caressed his cheek with.

“i’m just thinking about after hogwarts,” you added, picking up the pen that you left on the table, “and about us.” you mumbled, jotting down some words on your paper.

“theres not much to think about,” he begun, making your heart sink involuntarily, “oh no no not like that, love,” he laughed, bringing your hand into his, “what i mean’t is, you’re never getting rid of me, i’m too helplessly in love with you to let you go and i just assumed that we would finish school, get married and start our own family.” he explained, stating it as if it was the plan all along.

your mouth opened, words not coming out, not being able to form a sentence. all you did was lean forward and pull his lips onto yours, joining you two into a long passionate kiss. remus’ hand fell to cup your face and the other to rest on your hip, deepening the kiss in want and desire. your hands found your way into his now messy hair, pulling away to nod and repeat yes over and over.

“i’m glad you feel the same sweetheart.” he grinned, lips slightly tinted and swollen. he leaned in to steal more kisses from you, being interrupted by the loud cough of the librarian.

“excuse me, you two need to leave, this public affection is unacceptable.” she queried, eyes piercing through the two of you in front of her.

“but—“ you frowned more at her gaze, looking at your boyfriend who was holding back a smile. you both started packing up your books, still with her watching and still with remus threatening a laugh. you nudged his shoulder in warning causing his laugh to slip out, entertaining one from you and a more intense glare from the librarian.

“we’re leaving!” remus attempted to defend the two of you, more laughs falling out, as you two rushed to the door of the library. and you felt free, free to live this never ending love filled life with remus forever and always.

[ellecdc]

Keep Growing

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

cw: friendship breakup, anxiety, emotional/mental growing pains, Remus being a supportive bf (obvi)

You let the door fall closed behind you as you entered your apartment. You felt as though your skin had been crawling all day, and even the comforting, familiar smell of yours and Remus' shared space did little to comfort you.

You unceremoniously set your work stuff down on the bench in your entryway and made for your bedroom. You were glad in a way that Remus wasn't home yet - you felt that if you had to vocalize anything at the moment that the air would leave your body for good.

You got into the shower and let the day pass through your brain. You couldn't get your friends' - or, ex-friend you supposed - words out of your head.

"I don't even recognize you anymore." She spat. "Who are you?".

Who were you? Did you recognize yourself anymore? Who were you without your best friend of five years. You'd been through so much together; finishing high school and starting at University together, helping each other move out of dormitories and shared flats.

It started off mild - you stopped enjoying spending your evenings at clubs with her and her boyfriend's friends, preferring a quiet night in. Then it became that she didn't like that you started hanging out with your childhood friends again. Then you started to notice the difference between how Remus and his/your friends spoke to you versus the way she and her boyfriend/friends spoke to you.

You thought it would be helpful to talk about it with her instead of letting it fester.

How wrong you'd been.

And now, you were best friendless. Now, you had to figure out who you were outside of that relationship.

How would that impact the rest of your life? The rest of your relationships? Where did you go from here?

You sat staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror, towel in your hair and another wrapped around your torso when you heard the front door open again. You recognized that a part of your body seemed to relax knowing that Remus was home, but tears welled in your eyes immediately realizing that you've done nothing but sit here and feel sorry for yourself.

"Hey Dove." He called from the hallway, still shedding his outer-layers off.

"Hey." You tried to call back happily, but your voice cracked. You cleared your throat and tried again.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started on supper or anything, but now you get to have a say in what we have tonight." You settled for as you pulled on your comfies.

Remus rounded the corner of your room and offered you a crooked smile as he leaned against the doorframe.

"How was your day, love?" He asks quietly.

"Fine, thank you. How was yours?" You asked as you kissed his cheek and headed for the kitchen, aiming for nonchalance.

"Dreadful." He says as he followed you.

"Awe, why?" You ask sympathetically, but he only chuckled at you.

"It was far too long spent without you, of course."

"Of course." You repeat with a soft smile.

You opened the pantry door and stared blankly. Nothing looked right, nothing felt right. What were you even doing? What were you looking for? Do you even have groceries? What things do you like to eat?

"Dove?"

You turned to look at your boyfriend who was watching you with cautious eyes.

"Hm? Sorry." You managed, looking away from him and back at the pantry when your sinuses started to sting.

"I can hear that beautiful brain of yours whirring. What's going on, my love?" He asked gently as he wrapped his arms around your middle and rested his head on top of yours.

"I don't know." You whispered, feeling a tear trail a wet path down your cheek.

"You don't know what's wrong?" He asked.

"No. I don't know anything." You huffed, sounding slightly more agitated then you had meant to. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know where to go, I don't know who I am. I don't know anything, I - I can't, I just."

Remus spun you and his hands landed gently on either side of your face as he told you to breathe.

"You're alright, my love, just keep breathing for me, okay? We can figure it out together."

"I just-" you tried again. "I feel so lost, like, I actually feel crazy - out of my mind I don't know."

Remus made a sympathetic sound as he rubbed tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "A lot has been changing recently, hm?"

"Yes." You muttered pathetically.

"I know it doesn't feel good now, but you know that change is okay, right? You're allowed to change."

His sentence stopped you short. You didn't want to change, you wanted to be okay.

"It doesn't feel good now," he repeated, as if sensing where your mind had gone, "but sometimes changing and growing feels uncomfortable. You're gonna be okay."

You stood in his embrace for a few moments, letting his words wash over you.

"But, but what if I change so much that you don't know who I am anymore?" You whispered, finally realizing where this anxiety was coming from.

Your best friend, the person who had supposedly been there for you through thick and thin had left because you had supposedly changed. What if Remus felt the same? What if everyone decided that this new you wasn't worth it.

"Oh, my love." He cooed and began peppering your face with kisses. "Please do not worry about that."

You moaned miserably.

"Love," He said more seriously, turning your face gently to force you to look at him. "Grow as you please; if I get the privilege of getting to know you all over again, I'll do that."

An embarrassing laugh sob came out of you as you flung yourself into your boyfriends chest, still adorned with his button up from work.

It felt uncomfortable now, but you knew that Remus was right. And whichever way you grew, he’d be by your side.

[msmoony7]

Bookshop Romance

Remus Lupin x Reader

word count: 5.65k

fluff

Note: hope you guys enjoy! i'm going to be posting this on AO3 as well if you want to check it out there too. same username as here!

The bookstore is your favorite spot in town. You just love sitting in there and reading books. And the people watching as customers come in and out is another favorite activity of yours. You’ve lived in this town for a while now, ever since you graduated from university. The town is small and was just what you were looking for at this point in your life when you decided to move away from home. Your apartment is tiny, but you loved it regardless. It’s decorated with pictures and posters and trinkets, most of which are from the thrift store in the town. Your prized possession is your record and book collection, which takes up an embarrassing amount of space in your home. You love it anyways.  

You discovered the bookshop quickly after you settled into your new home. You were on a walk exploring the town when the small sidewalk sign on the outside drew you in. Almost like it was meant to be. Since then, you’ve entered the door hundreds of times and plan on entering a hundred more. 

You got a job at the local bakery, which gave you enough money for rent and other necessities, along with spending money. You integrated nicely into your small town living. You even made friends with the workers at the bookstore due to your frequent visits.

Your visits were sporadic but regardless, you developed a routine for what your visit would look like. You start off by grabbing a coffee at the cafe inside the shop,sometimes bringing along a little treat from the bakery. Then, you sit down in the cafe area and read however long your heart desires. You’ve spent as little as twenty minutes here and as long as seven hours. You love the simplicity of your routine and you do it as often as your life allows.

Today, you enter the bookstore and make your way to your usual spot in the back. Although very few people are ever in here at the same time, you still like to be in your own little world away from everyone. You reach into your tote bag and pull out the book you’re currently reading. 

After a while of reading, you finally finish your book and your coffee. You make your way into the bookshelves to find your next read. Once in the aisles, you stumble upon a young worker putting books onto the shelves. You know every worker here by name, so you know that this is a new employee. You watch him from afar, mesmerized by his beauty. He has dark blonde hair that’s almost brown and has some curls. He’s bent over, but he looks pretty tall, and he’s wearing a brown and green striped knit sweater with brown corduroy pants and Dr. Martens. You didn’t think you believed in love at first sight but upon seeing this man, you’re rethinking your beliefs. He looks perfect and you can’t help but stare at him. You bring the strength to pull yourself away and you peruse the shelves some more before settling on a book that you’ve been meaning to read for a while and go to the register to check out.

“Hey, y/n, how’ve you been?” Lily, a worker who quickly became your best friend, asks you.

“Doin’ good, thanks. You?”

“Great,” she smiles. “Saw you eyeing up the new worker in the stacks,” she says with a teasing tone and cheeky smile.

“I was not!” you say, feeling the heat rise in your face.

“He’s cute, I don’t blame you. He’s pretty quiet, though. Keeps to himself. Too quiet for me, but perfect for you!”

“Oh god, Lil, you better shut it before he hears.”

“Oh calm down I’m just messing. He works every Saturday, though. So I expect to be seeing you here a lot more frequently.”

“Goodbye, Lily. I’ll see you soon,” you say with a laugh as you walk away.

“Every Saturday!” Lily shouts as the door is closing behind you. 

You shake your head as heat fills your cheeks once more. You haven’t been with a guy in a while and the thought of having a new crush simultaneously thrilled you and filled you with anxiety. 

You stop by the grocery store on the way home. Chicken was cheapest, so you made that for dinner along with some rice and asparagus. You love to cook, so you spend any time not at the bookstore in your kitchen. Once you finish eating, you light a fire in your fireplace and put on a record as you cozy up on your couch and begin reading the book you just bought.

—

The next few days go by slowly. The image of the cute new worker is etched in your brain and you find yourself thinking about him all the time. After what feels like years, Saturday finally comes around again and you find yourself getting ready to head to the bookstore. Your visits to the bookstore in the past were frequent but never consistent. You made your visits there around your schedule and would go whichever day fit best. Now, you feel a little silly planning your trip so specifically just to see a boy. But frankly, you don’t find it within yourself to let it impact you too much.

You put on your jacket and leave for the bookstore. It’s the beginning of winter, so you walk as quickly as your feet can carry you. The ten minute walk feels like 20 in the cold but finally, you enter the shop. Lily hears the bell ring and looks up to greet the customer and once seeing that it’s you, she laughs out loud.

“Not. A. Word,” you mutter to her as you head to your seat. It has a perfect view of the register, so Lily shoots you winks every now and then - knowing that you can see her and that she can see you - all of which you roll your eyes in response to. 

The bookstore is small, so conversations can be heard from across the store. About an hour into reading your book, you hear Lily talking to the boy. “Hey Remus,” she all but shouts to him, knowing that you’re listening. “Can you go by the register while I wipe down the tables?” Remus, you think. That’s a cute name.

You can’t hear his response but he appears in your viewpoint a minute later. You find yourself staring at him once more. He sits down at the chair behind the register and begins reading a book. He looks perfect sitting there and you can’t help but stare. 

“You’re welcome!” Lily shouts at you, knocking you out of your trance.

“Lily, he can hear you!” you whisper, trying to get her to be quiet.

“Yeah, whatever. With all your staring, I’m sure he’ll catch on eventually anyways. You know you’re visible from the register, right?” she teases. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you,” she says as she nudges your shoulder. She leaves to go back to the front of the store and leaves you to your book.

The next time you look up from your book, you realize that it’s almost time for the shop to close. You see Remus and Lily both doing their closing duty tasks and sheepishly get up from your table, embarrassed that you stayed there this long.

“Bye, Lily,” you say to her as you leave the store.

“Bye, y/n,” she winks at you, Remus right by her side. You avoid Remus’s eyes as you leave the store, already counting down the days till next Saturday.

— 

Almost as slowly as last week, Saturday finally rolls around once more. You get to the bookshop a little later than you normally do. You only have a little bit left in your book to read, so you decided to spend your day doing other things, like running errands, and would finish the book at the shop.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show up,” Lily says jokingly when she sees you walk in.

“I swear, you’re going to be the death of me.” You settle into your spot and do the same thing you’ve been doing the last few weeks. The simplicity and the repetition of your Saturday routine pleases you and has become something that you look forward to.

You ease into your novel and become wrapped in it, very close to the end and very excited to finish it. You hear Lily ask Remus to clean the tables, making a mental note to yell at her later, but go back to focus on your book. One, because you want to finish it. But also because it would help you avoid eye contact with him.

Finishing the book takes a little longer than expected. Stealing glances at Remus a little too frequently probably didn’t help. You finally finish and close your book and rest it on the table. 

“I really like that book,” you hear Remus say from a few feet to your left as he’s cleaning a table.

“Oh, yeah. It was really good. Kinda sad I finished it, though. I didn’t want it to be over.” You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you look up to meet his eyes. You have been daydreaming about talking to him since you met, and you can’t believe it’s finally come true.  

“I can give you some recommendations, if you’d like.” He speaks with a quiet voice. 

“Yeah, sure. That sounds nice.” You get up from your seat and he walks you to the shelves to show you some books. 

“This is one of my favorites,” he says, grabbing a book from the shelf. 

“I’ll be sure to check it out. Thanks.”

“No problem,” he smiles. “I’m Remus, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smile back.

You begin walking over to the register to purchase your book. Once you turn the corner from the book stacks, you see Lily silently cheering for you.

“Oh he’s totally into you too.”

“Oh hush. Just ring me up.” You blush as you hand her the book.

—

Making the weekly trip here quickly becomes your favorite day of the week. Over the last few weeks, you’ve grown closer to Remus. He’s given you countless book recommendations and have given him some in return. You hangout with him in the shop during his shift, often earning teasing glances from Lily. You’ve learned a little bit about him from small talk through your hangouts. He’s a year older than you and he's from Wales. Like you, he liked the small atmosphere of the town and was drawn to it, and his two best friends moved here also. He just recently moved to town at the end of fall and the first thing he did was get a job here at the bookstore.

This week's visit to the bookstore happens to fall on Valentine’s day and you were hoping that Remus would be working, not knowing if he was dating anyone. Remus has set up Lily on a date with one of his friends, so you knew that she wouldn’t be working tonight.

You open the door to shop, the bell ringing as you enter. You see Remus at his usual spot behind the counter, which sends a bit of relief through you knowing that he wasn’t out with anyone else. Upon hearing the bell, he looks up and makes eye contact with you, giving you his usual smile before continuing to help out the customer. 

You make your way to your usual seat and move forward with the weekly routine that’s been in place since Remus started working here: come to the store, read a book Remus recommended, talk with him about it, buy another one of his recommendations, give him a recommendation if he needs one, and repeat the next week.

You sit like this for about an hour, content with your book and your coffee. You hear the bell ring and glance up to look at the counter and notice that Remus isn’t there and you feel a pit grow in your stomach. Maybe he is going out tonight, you think to yourself while sighing, and you go back to reading your book. You feel silly for letting yourself get so attached to a boy you just met.

The bell at the store rings once more a few minutes later and although you can’t see the door from your seat, you see Remus getting back to the counter holding a bouquet of flowers. Every bit of hope that you had that he may be single leaves your body in that very moment and you feel just about ready to cry.

You decide it’s time for you to leave, not wanting to see whoever those flowers are for. You grab your book and just as you turn around, you see Remus walking towards you with a book in hand. You try to act normal, but are sure that somehow, there’s a mix of sadness, panic, and joy on your face all at once.

“Hi Y/N, where’re you going?” he says with a small frown.

“ I was just gonna head home and finish reading this there,” you reply softly while waving the book up to show him which one it is, trying not to show your disappointment. “I actually really like it,” you continue, “I’ll probably end up finishing it tonight.”

“I’m glad you like it, it’s one of my favorites. Here’s another one I think you’d like,” he says while handing you the book.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “Can you ring me up for it on my way out?”

“I already bought it, consider it a Valentine’s day treat,” he says, causing you to blush. “So, you don’t have any plans tonight?” You feel your breath hitch in your throat, hoping this is leading where you’ve always dreamed it will.

“I don’t,” you say intrigued, tilting your head slightly. 

“What do you think about coming over to my place? I can cook dinner and you can finish reading that book, maybe we can watch a movie, or listen to music,” he rambles on nervously. “I don’t really care what we do. Completely up to you.” He adds on, smiling anxiously as he awaits your answer.

You are smiling giddily and probably look a little crazy, but you can’t help yourself. This moment doesn’t feel real. Your wishes are finally coming true.

“I’d love that,” you reply as quickly as your voice can after processing what just happened. “But who’re those flowers on the counter for?” you question.

“Oh, I forgot,” he says while running back to the counter. He grabs them and walks back over to you, carrying the bouquet of deep red roses scattered with baby’s breath flowers in between. “These are for you. I didn’t want to come right up with these and scare you off, or in case you were dating anyone or said no. Although with the weekly visits and the way you always stare at me, I didn’t really think you had one anyways.”

“I don’t stare!” you yell before putting your face into your hands, mortified. Because you spent a lot of time staring at him. Remus pulls your hands down and tilts your head up by your chin to meet his eyes as if to say Yes, you do. “I don’t stare,” you insist.

“Right, whatever you say,” he mocks. “Are you ready to go? I took the rest of the night off.” 

“You took the night off? And what if I said no,” you tease while gathering your things.

“I had a hunch you’d say yes,” he replies. “And Lily told me you would.”

“You asked Lily?” you almost yell, causing him to laugh.

“Of course I did. I wasn’t really looking to get rejected.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. But yeah, I’m ready to go.” He grabs your bag and swings it over his shoulder. He opens the door for you and the pair of you leave the store. Once outside, he begins leading you in the direction of his home. 

“How far do you live?” you ask. 

“I have a small house on the outskirts of the town. About a twenty minute walk if you don’t mind walking.”

“Yeah that's perfect.” The two of you begin the walk to his house. Casual chit chat fills the air as the two of you get to know more about each other, getting closer together as the walk progresses. You point out your apartment building to him when you pass it. 

“I almost moved in there,” he says to you.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You’ll see when we get to mine.”

“Well what’s that supposed to mean? I like my place,” you tease as you continue walking, following Remus wherever he goes. 

“Oh I’m sure your place is great. And I’d love to see it one day. But my place is amazing. You’ll see.” He has a smile etched onto his face and is walking joyously towards his house.

The rest of the walk is filled with comfortable silence. As you walk further and further from the center of town, you wonder where Remus is taking you. Although you’ve lived in this town for what feels like forever now, you haven’t ventured this far into the outskirts.

Finally, Remus starts slowing down. The two of you make it to a little cul de sac that only people who live here would go down. There are three houses, each with a long driveway and trees scattered around for separation and privacy. He leads you to the house to the right and begins walking down the driveway with you. Just as he thought, your jaw quite literally drops when you see his house. It's quaint and perfect. The walls are green and there's some stone, brick, and wood throughout for contrast. Vines line the walls and there's a beautiful front porch that looks like it wraps around to the back. 

“Holy shit, Remus. How on earth did you find this place? This house is gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. “I built it.”

“You what?!”

“My friends and I wanted to live near each other. We were looking for an area to move into and I stumbled on this place. We bought the land and built the houses. That house across the way is my mate James’ and the one in the center belongs to Sirius.” 

“Remus you’re amazing. This house is amazing,” you gush at him.

“You haven’t even seen the inside yet. C’mon.” He grabs your hand and leads you inside the house. You didn’t think anything could top the outside of the house, but Remus Lupin was full of surprises. There was a huge bookshelf that made your own collection look tiny. The fireplace was extravagant and has pictures lined up on the mantle. Much like your house, his was filled with trinkets and frames lining the walls. One frame shows him and two other boys that you assume to be James and Sirius. There are more group pictures lining his walls. You wonder which one he set Lily up with.

He has a record player off to the side and his collection is just as big as yours. “Pick a record,” he says as he guides you over to the table that houses his record player. You flip through his collection – of course he has it alphabetized by the artist's last name. So do you – and stop when you get to David Bowie.

“I love Bowie!” you shout as you pull out The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, your favorite album by him. “Here.” You hand him to record and he smiles and laughs as he puts it on.

“That’s my favorite album too.” Five Years starts playing and he walks around to finish giving you a tour. The kitchen is just as nice. The cabinets are green, slightly lighter than the outside of the house, and there are wood and gold accents along with wood floors. There’s a small table in the kitchen and a large island, perfect for cooking. Next is the main bathroom, which is also green, and has numerous plants inside. He walks you upstairs and briefly shows you his bedroom, green again and filled with many books, and the three extra bedrooms, one of which is his office. 

Lastly, he leads you back downstairs and out the back door to the backyard. You were right, the porch does wrap around the back. Lights and plants line the porch. He turns on the outside lights to reveal a fenced in backyard engulfed by trees. Two bigger trees are inside the fence and in between a hammock is hanging. There’s a fire pit with chairs surrounding it and lights strung all around the backyard. Amazingly, there is an inground pool that’s covered up by a tarp.

“Remus, this is amazing. I can’t believe you built this.”

“Thanks. You haven’t even seen the best part.”

“You keep saying that and it keeps getting better. I don’t know how you can top this backyard.”

“Look up.”

“What?”

“Look up,” he says again.

You listen to him and look up at the night sky and you’re met with the most beautiful view of the sky you’ve ever seen. The stars and the moon are shining so brightly, It’s like the sky was created by Remus himself and you were seeing it for the first time.

“How the hell does the sky look like this,” you whisper in awe.

“This was the selling point for me. I sit on the hammock and just stare at the sky for hours.”

“This really is amazing. You’re lucky to have this place, you put a lot of effort into it.”

“Thanks, I really did. It took a lot of building and planning, but I’m so happy with where it is right now. Anyways, you must be hungry, let me start cooking. How does chicken sound?”

“Sounds great,” you reply. He takes your hand and leads you back inside to the kitchen. He pulls out the chair at the kitchen table and motions for you to sit. You mutter a small thanks as he lights a few candles on the table and begins grabbing all the ingredients. Before he begins prepping, he puts on an apron that says, “Kiss The Cook,” causing you to laugh.

“Hey. James bought this for me and it’s the only one that I have,” he says defensively, busting out into a laugh.

Conversation falls naturally upon the two of you and you learn more about Remus as he cooks for you. His favorite color is, shockingly, green. He also loves to cook. He and his friends do weekly dinners and this usually falls upon Remus to cook but he doesn’t mind. Sirius and James bring the drinks and desserts and Remus says they always have a good time. 

“You know the bakery down the street from the bookstore? They usually get the desserts from there,” he says as he plates up the food.

“You’re lying. I work there! What do they look like, I bet I’ve seen them.”

Remus smiles as he goes to the living room and comes back with a photo of the three of them.

“I do recognize them! They come in all the time. I always slip them something extra.”

“You’re the one that’s been doing that? They’re gonna freak when I tell them the girl I’ve been swooning over is the same one that’s fueling their sweet tooth.”

“You’ve been swooning over me?” you joke at him. He just blushes in response and looks at his chicken. You smile at your mutual ability to stun each other and start cutting up your chicken.

“I think this is the best chicken that I’ve ever eaten,” you say to him after taking a bite.

“You’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Well yeah. But I’m serious, this chicken is really good. Next time, I’ll cook for you.” “I’d like that,” he says with a smile. 

Once the two of you finish your meal, you make your way to the living room where Remus puts on a new record. You settle onto the couch as he starts a fire. He sits next to you, grabs a blanket, and drapes it across the two of you as he hands you your book, filling you with confusion.

“Finish the book,” he says.

“It’s fine. I’ll finish it when I get home.”

“No, trust me. I don’t mind. Sitting here with you is all I need.” You blush in response to his words and you open the book. You have less than 30 pages left, so you shouldn’t be busy for too long. His arm wraps around you and you cuddle closer into him as you hold open the book. Sometime later, you close the book and look up to see him staring at you.

“How was it?” he asks.

“Really good. I’m glad you recommended it to me.”

“Me too.”

The two of you stare into eachothers eyes for what feels like an eternity, neither one of you willing to make the first move. With a wave of confidence, you lean in to break the distance between your lips and his. His lips are soft and you move slowly at first. After a few seconds, you tear away from him and go to look him in the eyes once more. Before you can do this, he pulls you in by your cheeks and locks his lips to yours, this time with more passion. He pushes you back without breaking contact until your back is on the couch and he lies on top of you. He pulls away for a second, with nothing but Bowie and the south of your breath filling the room.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” you say breathlessly.

“Trust me, I do,” he says before going back in. Your hands comb through his hair as his roam your body. Every touch of his feels electric and you can’t imagine a life without his touch. The sound of the doorbell ringing surprises both of you, Remus so much that he falls off of the couch, causing you to laugh. He shoots you a glare before going to answer the door.

“Moony, how’d the date go!” you hear a man shout as he barges in the house. You hear two pairs of footsteps, three if you count Remus’s, walk into the living room and you lock eyes with James and Sirius as they sit on the opposing couch.

“Oh shit! You’re the bakery girl! Moony, why didn’t you tell us you were in love with the bakery girl!” the long haired man says to his friend before turning to you. “He’s been pining over you for weeks. Can’t believe he finally got the guts to ask you out.” 

“How was I supposed to know she was the bakery girl!” he shouts in defense. “Now we were kind of in the middle of something. Can you go?” You laugh at the banter between the boys.

“Ouch, kicking us out? I’ll remember this,” the boy with glasses says. “We accept sweet treats as apologies.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you come in,” you say as Remus practically kicks them out.

He huffs as he closes the door and starts walking over towards you. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “They’re so embarrassing and will probably be the death of me.”

“It's okay,” you chuckle. “They seem funny. I can’t wait till the next time they come in.”

“Oh I’m sure they can’t wait either.”

“I had a really great time tonight. I hate to end it early, but I should be getting home.”

“Let me drive you,” he says. He grabs your jacket as well as his. He swings your bag over his shoulder once more and leads you outside to his car. 

“If it’s so cold outside, why didn’t you drive to work?” you question.

“We wouldn’t have had as much time to talk,” he responds. “Wouldn’t you rather a 20 minute walk filled with conversation than a 2 minute car ride? Plus the walk up to the house is a better reveal than a drive up.”

“Can’t argue with that,” you say as you buckle in.

The drive to your house is quite short and you’re sad to have to say bye to Remus. He parks outside the front and walks you up to your apartment door.

“I had fun tonight. Even if it got interrupted by your friends,” you smile at him.

“I’m glad they didn’t scare you off.”

He stares into your eyes before leaning in to give you one final kiss for the night. He watches you enter your apartment before going back to his car and driving away.

Once inside, you finally have a minute to collect your thoughts and process what just happened over the last few hours. You shoot Lily a text saying you hope she had fun on her date and also cursed her out for not telling you about Remus’s plan to ask you out. You put the flowers he bought you in a vase on your kitchen table and begin getting ready for bed.

Once your night routine is done, the last thing you do before bed is read. You grab the book he gave you out of your bag and you flip to the first page. You’re shocked to see there’s a note on the inside of the front cover from Remus.

Y/N,

Hopefully you said yes to the date or else this is going to be a really awkward read. You caught my eye the moment I saw you at the bookstore. Yes I saw you staring at me in the aisles on my first shift. You were not slick. And I saw you staring all the other times. And all the times you and Lily talked. Sound really travels in there. You never saw me staring at you, though. Getting to know you the last few weeks has been the best few weeks I’ve had in a while. Even when the days were tough, the thought of seeing you at the store got me out of bed. I really hope you said yes to the date because I would not want you to read this otherwise.

Anyways, this is my favorite book of all time and I wanted to share it with you. I hope you like it. I’d love to talk about it when you’re done. Give me a call, or come visit me. You know where I work.

Remus

You smile like a little girl as you read the letter, happy the feeling has been mutual the entire time. You save his number into your phone and send him a text thanking him for tonight and for the book. You go to the first chapter and your stomach drops when you see the book is annotated. You flip through the pages and see that almost every page has a note on it. Small things like underlined quotes, or something in the margin like “this made me think of you.” Your heart flutters knowing that Remus did this for you. You sit down in your bed, grab a pen, and begin reading, responding to his annotations along the way. 

—

The sun’s rays peer into your room just as you finish the last page and you realize that you stayed up all night reading and annotating the book. You get up from bed, grab your jacket, and run out the door towards Remus’s house. 

You make it to Remus’s house much quicker than you imagined. Out of breath, you ring his doorbell and wait for him to open the door. It takes him a good thirty seconds before he makes it to the door. His hair is messy and he’s wearing grey sweatpants and a green sweater that looks like it was thrown on haphazardly before walking to the door. Sleep fills his eyes as he rubs them in the morning light, the sun hitting him just right and giving his skin a beautiful golden color as well as lighting up his eyes. At first, he looks confused as to who could possibly be ringing his doorbell at the crack of dawn. But once he realizes it’s you, a smile grows on his face.

“I finished the book. I really liked it,” you say before Remus could even get a word out, still panting from the walk over.

“You what?”

“I finished the book.”

“How on earth did you manage to do that?” he questions. His voice beautifully raspy from the night.

“I saw the annotations and I stayed up all night reading. Here,” you say as you hand him the book. “I hope you don’t mind. I wrote some notes back for you.”

He smiles back at you and flips through the pages to look at the annotations you left for him. “Have you slept at all?”

“Nope,” you say while popping the P. “I wanted to finish it as soon as I could and get it back to you.

He stares at you in response, his smile growing larger by the second. “Come in,” he says as he moves to the side of the doorway to give you space to walk in.

You walk in his house and he leads you to his bedroom. 

“Come on,” he says as he pulls open the covers. “Let’s get some sleep.”

You join him in the bed as he pulls you close to him. The heat radiates off of his body and warms you up as you cuddle into his body. Sleep falls upon you quickly and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep is Remus Lupin.

[cantstops1mping]

Flowers, Kisses, and Oranges

૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

// 🤍 – fluff //

746 words

{ao3}

§down bad!reader x Remus Lupin, gn!reader x Remus Lupin§

[Pet names (dove, love)]

«When Remus is asleep you decide you should surprise him with something; something cute, that he’d love!»

Hey everyone! this is my first actual fic (oneshot) I worked really hard on it and hope you all enjoy!!! I wanted to get this out sooner but, school was being an ass. ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა

It's safe to say you're deeply in love with Remus; Remus John Lupin; moony; your moony. You love giving Remus compliments, flowers, little nick-nacks you find; you make him cards, bracelets, necklaces, and other gifts. Just because you can. Just because you love him.

You woke up before Remus in the morning to get the day ready; to make it perfect for Remus. Remus liked to sleep in on the weekends so you’ll have enough time to get 'The perfect date' ready. 

And why? Solely because you can.

You got up as quietly as you could. You tried not to make a single sound as you got ready for the day, so Remus wouldn't wake up. You tiptoed into the kitchen to make yourself breakfast and to make some sandwiches for the date. Turkey, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, and a combination of condiments, stuffed between two slices of bread. You made a few more and gathered the sandwiches you made with some strawberries, oranges, and peaches and put them in a picnic basket. You filled the basket with more stuff; a sheet, napkins, some water bottles and lastly orange juice boxes. You closed the basket then right before you got out of the door you looked at yourself in the mirror ‘Perfect!’ you thought. you grabbed your keys and dashed out the door.

…

‘Beautiful’ you thought, getting out of your car. You breathed in the fresh garden air. The scent of flowers hitting you. The garden was filled with beautiful flowers, tall trees, tiny insects, and at the center was this huge pond. You decided to set up next to the pond, finding a tree close to it to provide shade. After, laying the plaid, orange, sheet down, you put the picnic basket in the center. 

You got up smiling, thinking of how much Remus would love it.

You remembered that you need to pick up some- 

Brrrrrr… Brrrrrr… Brrrrrr… 

Your phone rings. Looking down at your phone you see the caller ID being moony! You answer; “Moony, get ready! I have a surprise planned for you! You're going to love it!” You say excitedly, not letting Remus get a word out.

“Calm down” he giggles out. “Have you been getting this surprise ready for me all day?” He asks.

“Yes! Now go get ready! I'm coming to pick you up in 20 minutes.” You whine.

“Ok, Ok.” He chuckles as he hangs up the phone.

You get into your car and dash to the nearest flower store. The store had so many flowers you felt like you were in an enchanted forest. You picked out a bouquet of Remus' favorite flowers; orange lilies. Along with the flowers, you also picked out a beaded necklace for him to wear.

After quickly paying for everything, you drove back to your and Remus' house and rang the doorbell. As soon as he opened the door, his eyes widened at the sight of the flowers in your hand. 

“These are for you, my love,” you smiled, handing him the bouquet. He took the flowers, a look of pure joy on his face.

“You didn't have to do this, dove,” he whispered in your ear as he kissed your cheek, his voice filled with emotion. “But thank you. I love them.”

The two of you drove to the garden together. As you approached the picnic spot, Remus gasped in surprise at the sight before him. The blanket, the picnic basket, the flowers; everything was perfect.

“This is amazing, dove,” he said, his eyes shining with love. “You always know how to make me happy.”

…

You spent the day sitting by the pond, eating sandwiches, feeding each other fruit, and laughing together. The sun shone down on the both of you, casting a warm glow over the scene. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

As the sun began to set, you packed up the picnic and held Remus close as you both watched the colors of the sky change. You knew in that moment that you were truly in love with this man, and you couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

“I love you, Remus,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, turning to capture your lips in a gentle, loving kiss. And in that moment, surrounded by nature and each other's love, you knew that you had found your perfect match in Remus John Lupin.

© cantstops1mping 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without giving me credit or without my permission!

[flxwerydreams]

Take my hand (take my whole life too)

Remus Lupin x GN!Reader (established relationship)

a/n: i fear this one's a drabble.

c/w: none that i can think of.

Sometimes you thought that you and Remus were like two pieces of a puzzle. You wondered quite often about this — if there were other universes — if your souls had lived other lives, had you been with him in those? Had you looked at him, like you do now and wondered if the way his scars stretched when he smiled could be considered art? You hoped he didn’t have scars in those lives. Not because they disgusted you but because the mere idea of your sweet boy being in pain made your heart weep. He was so beautiful. Had you, in another life, held his hand, and touched his lips and kissed him until you could only think about your bodies fusing together into one? Had you ever loved him, like you do now? It seemed impossible. Your heart felt heavy with the weight of it — the love you felt for him. Was it possible to love with that rawness, in every lifetime, in every universe? He was your universe. He was the one holding up the world. He was the first summer breeze that brought with itself a relieved sigh. He was a heavy cloud, he was the petrichor in the air and he was a fragile zephyr lily, blooming with the first rain. You looked at him now, as he sat before you, a hand in yours and the other holding up Austen’s Emma. His hair, mussed from leaning against the back of the couch, his lips moving softly as he read the words to you, his voice a gentle murmur. A fleeting thought crossed your mind — you wondered if he knew how far gone for him you were. You wondered if he knew that in this universe, and every other one, you would let him take your hand once, twice, a thousand times. You would let him take your whole life too. You were his, forever, and you only hoped he would want to be yours too — forever.

i hope you enjoyed it! leave a comment :)

[bitterspoons]

Dead Girl's Wish Oneshot

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ever since you were little—you were different. So was Remus. You went to therapy together and you were perfect....He asked to marry you...Happily Ever After is dead

Flashbacks are in italics

Warning: Lots of Angst and Lots of Blood

No use of Y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

Your boyfriend, Remus said he had a surprise for you. He wanted to hang out in the gardens of Hogwarts.

You had a surprise for him too—just not a good one.

As you walked towards the Greenhouse—tears already building up in your eyes...you remembered why this had to happen in the first place.

You two met in therapy when you were eight.

***

“We thought it would be better if you had someone similar around you—it would be easier for you to progress.” Miss Kempe, the therapist explained. 

Little Remus rocked on his feet. “There’s another werewolf?” He asked excitedly, nibbling on a bar of chocolate. 

“Well…no but…you’ll see.” Miss Kempe stood up and opened the door. “C’mon sweetie, you can come in.” 

Slowly, a pale little girl trudged into the room. She was clutching onto her oversized cardigan for dear life as her long hair hid her face. Her dirty white sneakers entered the room and sat on the chair near Remus. 

“Okay—how about you two get to know each other while I talk to your parents?” She closed the door. 

“Hello!” Remus waved. 

“Hi…” She said back. “What’s your name?” She asked quietly. 

“I’m Remus! What’s yours?” 

You two introduced yourselves to each other for a while—getting to know each other a bit. 

“Can I see your face?” Remus inquired. 

But the little girl backed away a bit. “I don’t think you want to. It’s scary.” She warned. 

“People think my face is scary.” Remus insisted. “It’s because I have a scar—do you have a scar?”

“No—and your face isn’t scary.” The little girl said before turning away bashfully. “Your face is pretty.” 

“Please?” 

In a moment of confidence, the little girl tucked her hair behind her ears and looked at Remus nervously. 

Her skin was practically translucent, and around her diluted red eyes you could see colorful veins decorating her eyelids and cheeks. 

“I think you’re pretty.” Remis grinned. 

“Really?” She asked. “How’d you get that scar?” 

Remus scootched his chair closer. “Don’t tell anyone…but I’m a werewolf.” 

She gasped. “Really? Like you can turn into a wolf?” 

Remus nodded. “It hurts alot but I can! Once every months at a full moon!” He recited. 

She also looked around. “I have a secret too. I’m half zombie.” 

Remus’s eyes widened. “I never heard of that!”

“Nobody has! The doctors don’t know either. That's why I look like this.” She explained. 

“Does it hurt?”

The two kids spent 5 hours chatting about their ailments and other things and soon became best friends. 

The parents and Miss Kempe watched them from outside the door. “I think this arrangement will work nicely.” 

***

You weren't sure if that qualified as a meet-cute but either way—your love story had to come to an end.

After all, he didn't deserve you. How could he? Look at yourself.

***

Today was a particularly rough session where they were encouraged to talk about their biggest insecurity with each other while Miss Kempe was out of the room. 

The two tweens sat in silence. 

“I wish I looked like the girls in the magazines.” You blurted, staring at the pile of newspapers and magazines on the table. 

Remus nodded before looking down. “I wish I wasn’t dangerous.” 

You laughed. “Well clearly I’m an asshole.” You scoffed at yourself. “I’m only worried about myself for cosmetic reasons.” You picked at your nails, the conversation pitted again. 

This time, Remus started it. “I think I fear it because it means that nobody deserves to love me.” 

Your head shot back up. “Same…I would feel bad for the person who loved me.”

“Maybe we deserve each other.” Remus laughed and the two 11 year olds laughed off their pain. 

“You deserve someone a lot better than me.” You concluded—grabbing a caramel from the candy bowl. 

“Likewise.” Remus replied—sending them both into another fit of sad laughter. “Well then…” He grabbed one of the ring pops from the candy bowl. “Will you marry me?”

You laughed, taking another ring pop from the bowl. “Only if you marry me!” 

“Wonderful!” 

You spent the rest of the lesson talking about what Hogwarts would be like and eating enough candy to feed a village. 

***

But that isn't how today was going to end. You refuse to laugh this off and eat candy until you had a stomach ache—you were going to face this like a big girl.

You remembered how Remus asked you out two years ago.

You were at the Great Hall for dinner. Remus had been repetitively proposing his hand in marriage to you—each time you said no and that he deserved someone better than her.

***

Ignoring all the stares you got from your grade mates, you sat down to eat when a fortune cookie appeared on your plate.

"Why don't you go see what it says?" Remus asked, nudging it closer to you.

"Oh god, what did you do?" You tried hiding your face and moving as far away as you could as you opened the cookie. Nothing happened so you sat comfortably again before reading the message inside.

________________

Will you marry me? — Remus J Lupin

________________

"No, Remus. You deserve somebody better than me." Came your usual response. "How did you even manage this?"

"Please?" He begged.

You laughed—grabbing some lasagna onto your plate. "No!"

"Even with an itty-bitty cherry on top?"

"You know I don't like cherries."

Remus pouted. "But that's why it's itty-bitty!" He protested. "Marry me?"

"No."

He slouched "Fine how about helping me study next Sunday for divination?"

"Sure." You grabbed out a pen to do your homework—ignoring the crushed up paper balls that people were throwing at you.

"Is 9 okay?"

"Sure." You responded once again, catching one of the flying paper balls and unrolling it so you could write your potions essay on it.

"Can you also help me pick out an outfit?"

"Sure." You started focusing on your essay.

"After can I take you on a date?"

"Sure." You hadn't even realised hat you agreed to for a moment. You shot your head up. "What?"

"Well you already said yes." Remus grinned, stealing a bite of your lasagna.

"You cheeky little—"

***

You two had continued going on more dates until you two finally kissed under the Mistletoe at Honeydukes. You returned to Hogwarts as a couple.

You really wished you could stay together. You made such good memories over the years and you really wished you could stay Highschool sweethearts once you graduated from Hogwarts in a few days but...you didn't want to condemn Remus to living a life with you.

Everyday, you woke up and checked how dead you looked that day. How green were you, how colorful were your veins, were your ribs decaying again?

Everyday you watches as girls fawned over Remus, flirting with him and you couldn't help but wonder how they could look so pretty.

It looked right—Remus with a pretty girl by his side and yet he felt obligated to be your girlfriend.

You didn't want to torment him like this.

So as you met each other in the greenhouse—you two made small talk for a while.

Helping water flowers, you told Remus how excited you were to spend more time with your newborn brother, Teddy.

Remus told you how excited he was to live a life beyond school. He told you how nervous he was to live his life when a war was going on.

"I'm just worried about you, ya know? I'm worried about everyone. Lily, you—all our muggleborn friends... That's kind of why I wanted to talk to you. Ya know, live life while we can." Remus shuffled his feet as he blushed.

You didn't see the blushing—instead you saw the worry and dread on his face. You realised how selfish you had been—spending so much of Remus's time where he would be safe and free—the time he should've spent with prettier, and smarter girls.

So you turned to him and told him you wanted to break up. Plain and simple. It wasn't him, it was you and you were sorry.

Without seeing his reaction—you ran out of the greenhouse and apperrated home.

Remus stood there stunned as he clenched the small black box that was in his hand.

It was all a misunderstanding, wasn't it? They probably needed to talk it out and everything would be okay.

Wouldn't it?

He loved you ever since your first therapy session–he genuinely thought you were the most beautiful person ever—inside and out. (Quite more literally too.)

He had spent weeks building up the courage—too many pep talks from James and Peter and too much time picking out a ring with Sirius and Lily.

He wanted to give you space—maybe wait for the initial shock to blow over so he did.

The next day, he figured you went home already so he used the Floo network to get to your house.

It was dark inside your usually bright and lively household.

A house that was usually filled with laughing, yelling, scolding and giggles was reduced to silence.

"Hello?" His voice echoed in the house was he was not alone.

So he walked through the rooms of your house until he saw your parents and older sister in your living room.

Dead.

He saw a trail of blood leaving the living room and he started running.

As he followed the trail—it lead to your room and the amount of blood was getting increasing—he was leaving foot prints in it. The hem of his pants were swimming in it.

His running came to quick stop when he slipped and fell.

Groaning, he tried getting back up but stopped in his tracks as chills ran down his spine.

His eyes glances at his hands and his pants as he dusted himself off from the fall when he realised that he had slipped on blood.

His eyes trailed further in front of him and he saw your dead body in a giant pool of blood.

The same pool of blood he had slipped in.

He checked for your pulse and did CPR for a good half an hour until he broke down sobbing. Cradling your body— he looked out the window to see the Dark Mark in glowing traces.

He swiped his hair off his cheek—unknowingly smearing the blood from his hands onto his face.

He fumbled with the ring in his pocket and slipped it into your cold dead hand. "Will you marry me?" He wailed. "Please answer..."

But your dead body didn't answer.

He cried even harder, pounding his fist against the floor boards when he heard something.

A baby.

His eyes darted to your closet. He scrambled up and saw the bloodied hand prints on the doors as you had opened them in your final moments.

He carefully opened the door to your closet where he saw your baby brother Teddy crying in bloodied blankets.

Remus quickly took off the blanket and made sure Teddy wasn't injured to see that your baby brother was completely fine and the only one alive in your family.

You had sacrificed yourself to save Teddy.

Remus shed off his hoodie, getting Teddy out of the blood stained blankets and cooing him to sleep.

Remus started wailing again—seeing your cold smile against the dirty carpet.

He clutched your baby brother and apperated to where all his friends were waiting—waiting to celebrate the newly engaged couple.

Instead—they got a broken Remus and a baby Teddy and the start of a tragedy.

Because as each of his friends died.

He promised to take care of Teddy like his own son.

Your last wish.

[bloodshotstar]

Bloody and bruised

Remus Lupin x gn! reader

warnings: small mention of blood, mentions of fighting, cursing

extras: eventually soft remus, agressive reader until end

send requests pretty please 😸😸

“why on earth are you fighting so much” remus growls as he tightens the bandage around their hand, the hand bloodied and bruised from the many punches they had thrown at whoever they fought today.

“people are cunts” y/n mumbles back, not bothering to censor themselves nor think before they speak. They meant everything they said, despite not thinking before speaking they knew it was right, the people deserved it, just maybe not as bad as y/n gave it.

“just watch who you hit, one day you’ll hit the wrong person and they won’t be scared to punch back” he whispers in defeat as he finishes the bandage, placing a kiss on their knuckles as he brushes his thumb across them. The both had calmed down, remus was no longer pissed off at y/n and y/n wasn’t as angered as before. The two eventually left the bathroom, laying together in remus’ dorm, enjoying the silence due to the absence of the marauders. The silence was enjoyed as so was the warmth from the both bodies as they tangled together.

“i love you” remus whispers, finally calm and content with his lover in his arms.

[moonstruckme]

I really hope you mean here 🤭

Request: "Remus is being rude to the reader due to the upcoming full moon.. make it as angsty as you can"

Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: migraine, Rem is mean :(

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

When you come home from work, the apartment is dark and there’s evidence of Remus’ shit day everywhere. 

The curtains are drawn closed against the sunlight, and there’s a discarded blanket on the couch and several snack containers half-emptied on the coffee table. One of them has tipped onto the floor, a mess of crisps your boyfriend was likely feeling too unwell to tidy. He’s spilled tea on the table, too. These kinds of things are more common in the days before the full moon, but you think he must really be having a rough one. Even a few unwashed dishes in the sink is usually enough to stress Remus out, so he has to have been in a state to leave things like this. 

You brew a fresh cup of tea, grabbing some chocolates from the cabinet in case he didn’t bring any with him, and broach the bedroom. A shape moves under the sheets when the door creaks open. 

“Hi,” you say softly. You kneel by the bed, lightly touching the ends of Remus’ hair. “How are you, love?” 

“Bad,” he mutters from beneath the covers. You wince. He must be, if he won’t even lower the sheets beneath his eyes. 

You do your best to keep the pity from your voice, knowing he’d hate it. “I brought you some tea,” you murmur, “if you want it.”

“Can’t right now.” 

“It’s chamomile,” you coax. “It might help—”

“I can’t.” The low rumble of his voice takes on a hard edge, and you fall instantly silent. You nod even though he can’t see it, setting the tea and chocolate on his nightstand as quietly as you can. 

You don’t tell him you’re going, sure every footstep is agonizingly loud for him. You force down the lump in your throat. Remus is miserable right now; he’s not thinking about how his tone affects you, and that’s not his fault. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You can deal with it, help anyways.

You sweep instead of vacuuming, gathering the little bits of crisps into a dustpan and dumping them in the trash. The half-eaten snacks get reshelved in your cabinets, the puddle of tea cleaned off the coffee table, and candles lit to banish the stale smell in the living room. The cinnamon ones are usually Remus’ favorite, but you trade them out for lavender on the off chance it helps with his headache. You’re washing dishes one at a time so they don’t clatter when the bedroom door creaks open. 

“Hey,” you say, relieved. “Feeling better?” 

“No.” Remus’ voice is low, and the scratch of it tears at your heartstrings. He trudges to the end of the hall, where he stops, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I need you to be quiet.” 

“Oh, sorry.” You soften your voice, freezing with your hands submerged in the warm dishwater. “I’ve been trying, I didn’t realize you could hear. I’m almost done with this, so—” 

“Could you stop?” he asks, tone going harsh again. “Just, be quiet or find somewhere else to be, please. I can’t deal with this.” 

You swallow against the intrusion in your throat. Will away the heat from your face. “Okay,” you say, the word barely a whisper. 

Remus turns, plodding back to the bedroom. You hear the door shut.

You leave the dishwater to get cold rather than pouring it out and making more noise. You sit down on the couch with a book, eyes skimming over the words as you convince yourself over and over that it’d be stupid to cry about this. Your face heats, then cools. Tears blur your vision and you blink them away. This is ridiculous. Remus is just moody, he didn’t mean it. You know better than to take anything he says to heart right now. You can’t expect your efforts to be properly appreciated, but the important part is to keep making them. When he’s feeling better, he’ll thank you in a million sweet ways, because that’s who he is. He loves you. He didn’t mean it. 

It’s dark outside when the bedroom door creaks open again. You hadn’t noticed night falling, even when the light became too dim for you to make out the words on your page. You set your book down; you hadn’t been reading anyway. 

Remus sits next to you without a word. He leans the side of his head against the cushion with a sigh. 

“Dove?” he murmurs. 

You don’t dare do more than hum in response. 

A scarred hand finds your leg, the thumb sweeping back and forth over your skin. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he says quietly. “That was…it was really mean. And undeserved.”

“I’m sorry I was being loud,” you reply, and you can’t help it, your throat clogs all over again. “I was just trying to help.” 

Your voice catches on the last word, and Remus makes a pained sound that has you silencing yourself instantly. He makes another at your response. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he rasps. “Do you want a hug?” 

You bite down on your lower lip. “Are you okay to hug?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart.” 

He meets you in the middle, pressing upon your shoulder blades like he can hold you together by sheer physical force. You try for his sake, swallowing the cries that rise in your throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, palm marking a slow path up and down your back. “You weren’t too loud, I’m just fussy. You were only being your kind self. I had no reason to be so horrid.” 

“You weren’t horrid,” you warble. “I know you’re having a hard time.” 

“That’s no excuse.” His palm makes its way back to your shoulders just in time to feel the first little sob escape you. Remus’ grip tightens. “Aw, dovey. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I spoke to you like that.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” he murmurs, kissing the exposed bit of skin where your shirt is slipping down your shoulder. “It’s not, and—” He pauses, looking around the room for the first time. “Did you clean?” 

You nod against his front, feeling the pained sigh that leaves him. 

“Fuck, I’m awful.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You were cleaning up my mess, and I yelled at you.” Now Remus’ voice sounds a tad raw too. He gathers you closer, stubble scratching your forehead as he kisses your hairline. “My sweet girl. You should have ripped me a new one.” 

“You weren’t yelling,” you point out, teasing a bit now, “and anyway, it seemed like you were already being ripped a new one.” 

“Still,” he mumbles into your hair. “You lit the lavender candles and everything. You deserve to put me through hell.” 

“You’re already going through hell,” you remind him gently, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “I don’t need to help the process along. Do you want some tea, love?” 

Remus hums. “I do, but let me get it. Let me get some for you, too, yeah?” He leans back to look down at you. “You want some nighttime tea, darling?” 

You’re alright really, but you tell him you do anyway. He looks nearly happy as he drags himself into the kitchen, and he won’t stop mollycoddling you for the rest of the night. 

[allllium]

So I have a Remus Lupin fake dating series kinda of planned out and now I'm wondering how I should post it.

Would you rather I post as I write it or wait until I have a few chapters written and post them more schedule based?

[ellecdc]

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.

[msmoony7]

posting a remus fic tn! i have it posted on my ao3 already but i thought id post it here as well :)

[inthewindandinthewater]

A Kiss, and Maybe Something More...

A/n: Hi! It's been a bit hasn't it? I've been a little busy with family gatherings and the holiday but happy New Year!!! This is just a little story with Remus, I've always had the idea in my head that Remus and baking just go together? I don't know, I kinda wanna write something where he's a GBB contestant, I just think it'd be so cute. Would y'all read that? anywho reader is painfully shy because.... she's me. I don't mean shy like cutesy shy, I mean like frozen in anxious fear of abandonment shy. I hope some of y'all can relate. Kisses - El

Summary: You intend to make bread, Remus intends for other things.

Warnings: a little steamy, reader gets their boundaries pushed a little but in a good, consensual way, reader is very very shy, not proof read.

A Kiss, and Maybe Something More… 

“Okay, so that’s the dough finished. Now we just need to make the filling while it proves” 

You’re whirling around the kitchen in a flurry trying to prepare the different elements for your babka. Baking had always been a hobby of yours, but after you met Remus it became a couples activity and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Remus helped where he could, often you got stuck in your own world mixing and kneading all while he watched. Not that he minded, he loved the look in your eye and the confidence of your movements, something about watching you do what you love with such practiced ease set his heart humming. 

You breeze across the kitchen, barely moving your hip out of the way of the island on your way through. Going up on your tiptoes you reach up to one of higher shelves, your fingers just brushing the cinnamon before you feel a warmth against your back and a hand on your hip, effectively halting your movements. 

Turning your head to side youre met with Remus’ profile as his larger hand brushes yours to side, grabbing the spice with an ease you could only dream of. He pulls the bottle down and hands it to you just as your eyes meet his and you're speechless. Before you can open your mouth to speak he leans down and pecks your lips before separating himself and walking to the opposite end of the kitchen to look over the recipe book. 

It was little silent interactions like these that often left you frozen in place, waiting for the next beat. Remus on the other hand always seemed unaffected, likely because he was always the one to take initiative. He was the one doing the touching and the teasing and the flustering, it didn’t bother you, you had never been the kind of girl to be forward or overly affectionate. It didn’t come easy to you and you didn’t exactly have the practice he did; which, if you thought about it too much, made you sick. 

It was this spiral of thoughts that led to a series of events so oddly out of character that your own boyfriend questioned the existence of bodysnatchers and fair folk. Timidly, with shaking hands and a racing heart that you tried to quell the only way you knew how, with more thinking, you made your way across the kitchen to him, all the while trying to convince yourself that you’re being ‘totally normal’. 

When you reach him he’s still bent of the recipe, mumbling something under his breath that you don’t quiet understand. It takes you a moment to realize his muttering is in Welsh and you melt a little, he had a way of reverting back to his childhood tongue when he was really confused. You weren’t sure why but you found it so endearing, you didn’t understand a word but you liked to listen nonetheless. 

That only cemented your decision to wrap your arms around his waist and tilt your head back to hook your chin over his shoulder. Almost instantly his mumbling ceased, a moment passed before he leaned back into your hold and rested his head against yours, “something wrong, cariad?” he says, his accent a little thicker than normal. You hum in response at first but decide against letting your shyness overtake you, “no, just wanted to hold you” you feel your cheeks start to burn at the admittance and almost start to chastise yourself for being so painfully shy. 

Remus begins to turn in your hold and for a second you begin to doubt yourself, he had always said he found your shyness adorable. Did he like your reserved nature so much that this was too big a change? It seemed so simple just moments ago. But instead of pushing you away he simply wraps his arms around you and smiles down at you, “I wish you’d do more of it.” He says simple, relief floods you. 

“I’ll try.” you say softly, struggling to find much of a voice under his gaze. He leans down and pecks your forehead before hooking a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him before kissing your lips once, twice, then a third longer, deeper time. Remus holds you close to him, as though you would pull yourself away at any moment and leave him forever. He knew he needed to be slow and steady with you, that you’d never been in a relationship or been involved with many guys at all but it was difficult when you were right there with your soft lips and sweet smile. Everything about you was so inviting, who would he be to refuse you. 

“Please..” He mumbles against your lips, catching his breath for a moment “please do.” The giggle that breaks from you is so light that it makes one bubble out of his chest in time. It’s a sweet moment but a short one before his lips claim yours again and his hands travel up your body and to your cheeks, holding your face securely against his. 

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as his thread back through your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp. You sigh at the feeling, giving him the space to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring the sweet taste of the cream cheese filling you’d made prior. It makes you melt even further into him, letting your arms drape over his shoulder and your body go slack against his. He takes a step back to lean against the counter, pulling you along by waist. 

You disconnect briefly, both of your chests heaving as he dips his head to mouth at the expense of your neck. You’d never gone past making out and this felt like another hurdle he was guiding you over in his own way. As he nipped at the skin of your jaw and ran his hands over your curves you felt your mind begin to slow, the rushing thoughts of doubt and inadequacy suddenly vacated and feelings of adoration took up residence. 

Just as Remus’ hands slipped under the thick knit of your sweater and onto you flushed skin a shrill beeping invaded both of your senses. Remus winced at the harsh sound of the oven timer signifying that it was finished preheating. He sighed heavy against your neck and slowly lifted his head to look at you, “terrible timing” He says. 

You gape at him, “It’s not my fault!” You say, “pardon me for trying to innocently bake some bread” you rib at him. “Ah, am I corrupting you?” he responds, cocking his head to the side with a cheaky little grin spread across his face. Suddenly you're once again very aware that his hands are still on your waist under your shirt, thumb rubbing circles into the skin. “I suppose I’ll go and let you bake in peace then.” He begins to withdraw, but he doesn’t get far before you’re pulling him back and pecking his lips, “you aren’t going anywhere until you finish what you started” you say matter of factly, “the bread can wait, I won’t.” Remus’ eyebrows nearly reach his hairline. “Where did my girl go?” he says fondly, shaking his head at you as his hands take their place under your sweater once again. You only smile up at him and shrug before pushing your finger through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “I’d be happy to finish what I started” He says, kissing you once again