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unspoken words

Remus Lupin x gn!reader ⊹ 4.7k

⟢ cw: best friends to lovers, Remus is emotionally constipated, reader has abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, alcohol, drunk arguments?, mild self-loathing.

a/n:this turned out significantly longer than i had anticipated, this is my first fic so please be kind x

Remus wasn’t sure when he started to look at you differently. He wasn’t sure when he began to daydream of more than just your usual conversations. Perhaps it was in the quieter moments, when your laughter lingered a little too long in the air, and he suddenly found himself feeling in a better mood. Or maybe it was in the way you said his name—soft, familiar, like a refuge he hadn’t realized he needed.

Remus wasn’t sure when he started to look at you differently. He wasn’t sure when he began to daydream of more than just your usual conversations. Perhaps it was in the quieter moments, when your laughter lingered a little too long in the air, and he suddenly found himself feeling in a better mood. Or maybe it was in the way you said his name—soft, familiar, like a refuge he hadn’t realized he needed.

He told himself it was nothing, just familiarity.

The way his pulse would stumbled whenever you touched his arm was just habit. That the way he watched you, the way your voice curled around his name like a melody he never wanted to forget, fondness. Perhaps it was the way you always seemed to see him, truly see him, even on the days when he felt like nothing more than the sum of his worst parts.

It became harder to deny when he started reaching for you in crowded rooms before he even thought about it. When his heart ached at the idea of you walking away. When he caught himself wondering how well your hand would fit into his, how soft your lips would feel on his neck.

The truth settled in slowly, heavy and inescapable, until it carved a burning pit deep in his gut. It was the kind of realization that couldn’t be undone, couldn’t be shoved aside like an inconvenient thought. It lingered, twisting in the quiet spaces of his mind, a relentless whisper of something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

Because admitting it—admitting that he wanted more, that he needed you in a way that went far beyond friendship—meant risking everything. And losing you? That wasn’t a possibility he could bear to consider.

So naturally, slowly he began to retract, putting space between you two for the first time in years. Fighting against every twitch of his fingers to pull you in, to allow himself the comfort he had grown so accustomed to. It was easier this way, he told himself. Easier to smother the ache before it had the chance to grow into something unbearable.

But distance had a weight of its own. It settled between you like an unspoken curse, stretching wider with every conversation he cut short, every touch he shied away from. He saw the confusion flicker in your eyes, the way your laughter came a second slower, as if waiting for him to catch up. And yet, he forced himself to hold the line, to pretend that nothing had changed.

But it had.

And worst of all, you had noticed too.

It was impossible not to, Remus’ lips pressed into a thin line whenever he drew closer to you, how his eyes darted around the room, rarely meeting yours - before, it had always felt like your eyes would find each other, no matter the distance—like an unspoken thread bound you together, pulling you into the same orbit even when miles apart.

The first real sign was when he no longer sought you out before and after his transformations. Where he had gravitated toward you—seeking comfort in your presence, in the quiet understanding you offered—now there was only absence, a space where he used to be.

Of course, you still worried for him, still tossed and turned into the early hours of the morning when the moon hung heavy in the sky. Fingers hovering over his name, itching to press dial—desperate to see if he was alright, if his last transformation made it too hard for him to chew even if he won’t admit it, if he was missing the updates of the brewing romance you suspect between the two baristas at your local coffee shop.

As the distance between you and Remus grew, the initial fear—the endless questioning of what you had done wrong—slowly twisted into something heavier, more severe. Resentment.

Remus opted to sit next to James or reside in the beat-up single armchair in Sirius’ flat, that he’d revealed to you was the most uncomfortable seat in the house; rivaling that of the rickety chair in old caretaker Pringle’s office, just to be as far away from you as possible. The sinking feeling in you stomach, that made every breath feel like the last wasn’t enough, as if overnight shifted into a simmering anger, sharp and unyeilding in nature.

You think back to the late nights you’d spent with Remus, your legs resting across his as he reclined on the sofa bed in his studio, the horror movie you had chosen droning on in the back as you revealed layers of your soul to him, and him to you. Confiding in him in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to before— the vulnerable part of you, you so desperately wanted to bury, surfaced so quickly you hadn’t had a time to hide.

Under the impression that your baggage—your past, your insecurities, your weakness—would be too much for anyone to handle, that it would scare them away. But with him, it felt different. You allowed yourself to lay it bare, hoping that he would understand, hoping that, for once, someone would stay.

And yet, after everything—he was leaving. Before your very eyes, the one person who you thought would stay despite it all, who accepted you and who you accepted was retreating away from you, building back up the wall you had once easily scaled so tall you could couldnt phathom getting over the top—felt like an insurmountable task.

Each brick he placed sent you spiralling into a reckless panic, in a desperate, fruitless attempt to appear unaffected, to appear as though the foundation of your very being that you had delicately rested on Remus wasn’t crumbling away with each second you spent in this unspoken distance between you.

It turned in to a battle of who can build their walls higher but now, you felt lonlier than ever, you were once again trapped in a prison of your own making, and every word left unspoken made it a bit harder to be in his presence. The silence between you stretched like a chasm, thick and suffocating, until even the most casual glance felt loaded with things neither of you were willing to say.

Lily had pulled you into the corridor, trying to be pry subtly, into the strange tension that had settled between you.

"Are you two...?" she asked, her voice gentle, leaving the question hanging in the air, the concern in her eyes was unmistakable.

You forced a smile, but it felt foreign. The corners of your mouth strained with the effort, creating something that looked more like a grimace than anything genuine. Lily's brows furrowed in sympathy when your voice came out with in a freigned bright tone, artificially light yet hollow, completely at odds with the heaviness settling in your chest.

"Oh, um, we're fine. Just stretched a bit thin…with work, I suppose," you said, your words tumbling out a little too quickly.

Lily’s eyes were still searching your face, in hopes you would continue before Sirius came barreling through his too small corridor, clinging to the walls for stability—evidently very tipsy.

A long, drawn-out call of “Where have my girls goooone?” echoed through the hall. He finally reached you both, arms slinging lazily over both your shoulders, his breath warm and slightly slurred.

“Tell me it’s not just the two of you, I need some real drinking buddies,” he grinned, clearly oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.

Lily rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of relief in her smile as she playfully nudged him off. “You’re a mess, Black.”

A surprisingly heavy sigh slipped past your lips as he dragged you both back into his living room, Sirius didn’t seem to notice, too busy swaying on his feet.

The lights dimmed, music blaring too loud in one corner of the room and not loud enough in the next. Though by the time you reached the table piled with drinks, Lily had skillfully escaped Sirius’ grasp and found her way over to Marlene—who sat perched on the window-cill, blowing the air from her cigarette out the small crack, both had their eyes trained on you, the smoke now curling around them both.

You turned to Sirius, who was still swaying slightly, his eyes almost blinking unsynchronized as he tried to focus on you. "Right, what are we drinking then?" you asked.

His gaze lit up immediately, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, seen as you so graciously ask," he drawled, "Jamie made a devious little cocktail that I think might tickle your fancy."

He gestured grandly toward the table, as though unveiling some grand prize. "It's a bit... experimental, but I’m sure you'll love it. If you survive, that is."

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the glass in his hand. "Experimental, huh?" you said, a small giggle escaping your lips, you were grateful for the distraction. The last thing you wanted was for Lily to push any further.

Both you and Sirius raised your rather large cups, not breaking eye contact as you brought them to your lips. The moment felt charged, like a silent challenge between the two of you, a kind of unspoken rivalry that had always existed in moments like these. You knew very well what this meant—the tension, the expectations—and before you could second guess it, a small chorus of “CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG!” erupted from the people around you.

You tilted your head back, letting the liquor burn down your throat, the sharpness of it spilling slightly down the sides of your lips as you tried to keep pace with Sirius. His eyes was wide, mischievous, full of vigour, he crushed the cup in victory.

You barely managed to finish your drink, the liquid’s warmth spreading through your chest, leaving a bitter aftertaste. The back of your hand came up to wipe away the alcohol that now dripped down your chin, a small sigh escaping your lips as you set your cup down on the table.

Sirius, not missing a beat, cheered for you with exaggerated enthusiasm, barking a boisterous, “Atta girrrl!” His voice rang through the room, drawing more attention. He clapped you on the back a little too hard, making you stumble forward, the heat in your cheeks wasn’t from the drink.

You shot him a playful glare, trying to hold onto whatever composure you had left. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it.

He just laughed, clearly enjoying the chaos of it all, before dropping down into one of the chairs beside you, the glint in his eyes still dancing. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Silently, you poured yourself another tall glass full of the cocktail, the liquid sloshing slightly as you filled it to the brim, feeling the weight of eyes on you from every direction. When you lifted the glass, you could almost feel Sirius’ gaze boring into the back of your head.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re having another?”

You hummed back dismissively, your gaze locked on the drink in your hand, as if the peach liquid was more interesting than anything else happening around you. “Why not?” you replied, your voice casual, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

Sirius chuckled, clearly amused, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made you wonder if he was watching you for a different reason than just the challenge of the drink. “As long as you’re sure you can handle it, y/n, I’m game.”

“You sure about that, Black?”, chimed in Marlene stubbing out her cigarette with a casual flick of her wrist. Her eyes narrowed playfully as she raised an eyebrow at him, “Do you even know what James put in there?”

Sirius waved her off with a dismissive hand, “Don’t know, don’t care—drink is drink,” he stuck his tongue out at her in jest. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the exchange, starting with a careful sip from your newly filled glass, but then drinking it too quickly for your own good.

As quickly as one drink turned into two, two turned into three, four, five—and you eventually lost count. The room around you started to blur, the edges softening as the noise from the party grew distant, muffled. Sirius’ teasing voice, Marlene’s laughter, everything became a vague hum that you couldn’t quite focus on.

You didn’t care anymore. The heat in your chest from the alcohol, the pressure that had been weighing on you since you had stepped into the room—it all seemed to fade, if only for a little while.

Sirius once again coming to the rescue, seeming much more sober than despite the excessive consumption you had both partaken in, “How bout we step out for some fresh air, doll?”, you giggle to yourself quietly as he pulls you through the crowded room.

“Someone’s having a fun ni—” Sirius started, his words trailing off when you loudly proclaimed, “Of course, Siri, I loooove drinking with you!” Your voice echoed through the room, drawing a few amused glances from the people still lingering by the table.

Sirius shook his head, a knowing smile on his lips. “I think you’ve had a bit too much, love.” But he didn’t push the issue, instead guiding you towards the door.

The cool night air hit your face as soon as you stepped outside, but it did little to clear the fog in your mind. You let out an exaggerated sigh as you sat on the steps that led up to Sirius’ door, still left ajar.

“Penny for you thoughts?”

You turn to look towards him, head moving faster than you reflexes can keep up with, head almost rolling from the abrupt motion, “A penny for my thoughts?”, you quitely mumble back to yourself, taking the statement far to literally.

“Whats bugging you y/n?”, he shuffled closer to you, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder.

Out of habit, you began to pick at the skin around your nails, looking down at you lap in defeat—the sobering thoughts of Remus crept back up from where you tried to relinquish them. The breeze felt almost liberating against the heat of your cheeks, but it didn’t stop the lump from forming in your throat—quick and unexpected. The sting of shame and disgust prickled your skin as you struggled to swallow.

You really were about to start drunk crying over some boy.

“I’m tired, Siri,” you murmured pitifully, your voice small and fragile as you pressed your forehead lightly against his shoulder. The words felt heavy, like they carried more than just the exhaustion from the night, more than the alcohol clouding your mind.

Sirius didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you two, but he shifted, making sure you were settled comfortably against him. “I know, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice warm and steady, “I know.”

Your next words came out at barely a whisper, “I don’t know how to fix it.”

He didn’t try to tell you everything would be okay, didn’t offer empty words of reassurance. He simply stayed there, letting you feel the weight of his presence.

It all boils down to the fact that he isn’t just some boy, he was you best friend, your rock, your Remus.

Was.

Remus wasn’t just someone you could walk away from, someone you could forget about.

And you couldn’t just let things go on this way, if he was going to keep avoiding the fight, then you were going to bring the fight to him—he was the problem, and you were going to make him see it.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself up from the steps, a surge of anger filling your chest. You didn’t care if you were drunk, didn’t care if the world was spinning.

“I don’t have to deal with this,” you muttered under your breath as you quickly rose from your seat beside Sirius, pacing back and forth in front of him, whispering something along the lines, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. You whispered something along the lines of, “This isn’t fair,” and “He can’t just do this to me,” each phrase slipping out of you like a rushed confession, you weren’t sure if you were speaking to him or to yourself.

You brushed past Sirius, who called out your name in confusion. But you didn’t stop, stumbling slightly as you made your way towards the door.

You weren’t thinking about the consequences, about how out of control this was. Sirius did chase after you, but Merlin were you quick.

If Remus was happy with just letting years of friendship wordlessly slip away, then fine—but you weren’t. You refused to let the way you felt fester inside you like an open wound, refused to let him leave you drowning in uncertainty while he pretended everything was fine.

He was going to know.

If he was going to walk away from you, from your friendship, from everything, then he was damn well going to look you in the eyes while he did it.

By the time you reached Remus, he’s sitting solemnly staring into his glass while James ethuse about the most recent Quiddich game. You just stood in front of him for a moment, as he refused to lift his gaze and James’ words fell heavy on his tongue.

The party had dialled down severely since you were last drinking earlier, not that you noticed, you chest heaved as your sights remained locked on Remus.

“Won’t you look at me?”, the warmth in your voice had vanished, leaving only something sharp—something unfamiliar.

“Remus.” His name, even felt foreign in your mouth, distant—he heart ached to hear it the way you used to say it, laced with tenderness, with love, with something that felt like home. But now, it was just a word—empty, hollow.

It no longer carried the weight of familiarity, the quiet assurance that it always had before.

Remus had never realized how much he depended on the way you said his name—how much he had needed the warmth in it, the way it softened the rough edges of his world. But now, it was just a word. A sound. Stripped of meaning, stripped of you.

And as Sirius finally reached you, there wasn’t much he could do now, you cut all the wires of bomb and everyone was now waiting for the explosion. Your friends attempted to make themselves scarce with haste, as the tension rose in the room faster than they could leave.

Some watched through the window, others took it as the signal that the party was over and took themselves well away from the scene that was about to unfold.

Remus was still yet to even acknowledge you, let alone respond, gazing into his glass as if it quite literally the most interesting thing in the world.

“y/n-”, it came out in a short, breathless whisper.

“You don’t get to do this,” you cut him off. Tired of waiting yet again for him to say something to you. “You don’t get to do this to me and act like everything is okay!”, your voice came out less conviced and more pitifully than you had hoped, sounding alien to you ears.

The liquid courage faded as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only the weight of the moment. And then—your name, spoken in that voice, his voice. It shattered your resolve in an instant, unraveling you from the inside out, leaving you defenseless against a weakness you hadn’t thought to acknowledge.

“You don’t get to make this decision for both of us.”

His brows furrowed, jaw tightening, and finally looked up at you but he didn’t interrupt. He just watched you carefully.

You swallowed, forcing your voice to steady. “I don’t know what I did to you that was so wrong, but if I’m just supposed to let you cut me out of your life—if you don’t want in your life anymore, then say it. Look me in the eyes and say it, because I refuse to let you just disappear without a word.”

Remus inhaled sharply, his lips parting like he wanted to respond, but nothing came out. His hesitation only fueled your frustration.

“Say it, Remus!” Your voice cracked, the weight of it all pressing into your ribs, your eyes filled with tears you desperately prayed wouldn’t fall. You had already spent countless nights soaking your pillow, letting the hurt spill over. You couldn’t let it happen again—not here, not now. You wanted to stay composed, needed to keep the walls up.

“Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep wondering what I did wrong, what changed, why you suddenly act like just being in the same room as me is some unbearable burden—like I’m something you have to endure.”

The look on his face was something you had rarely seen—stricken with such complex pain, a mix of regret, sorrow, and a something you couldn’t quite distinguish.

“It’s not,” he cut in, voice rough. His hands gripped the glass in his hand like it was the only thing keeping them steady. “It’s not a burden, y/n.”

“Then what is it?” you demanded. Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. You took a step back, shaking you head as spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t think you’d leave me too.”

His face twisted, eyes flashing with something unreadable. And then, finally—finally—he exhaled shakily, taking his glass with careful precision before setting it aside. When he looked back up at you, there was something raw in his expression, something unsaid that had been sitting between you for far too long.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. “I didn’t mean for it to get like this, I just—”, he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his cheeks puffing out as he exhaled sharply, as if the weight of his own words were too heavy to carry.

“I’ve been pushing you away because I’m scared,” he continued, his gaze dropping to the floor, unable to meet yours. “Scared of how much I need you. How much I’ve always needed you.” His voice cracked slightly, yet he pressed on. “I didn’t want to ruin this—us. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you because I couldn’t control myself. I thought if I stepped back, if I gave you space, maybe... maybe the way I feel, how badly I want more from you, how badly I want us to be more, would... I don’t know. I thought it would make everything easier.”

He paused, his chest tightening with every word as if saying it out loud somehow made it real, that if he didn’t say it, he could still run away from the all-comsuming feeling that bubbled in his in his gut at the very moment. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he spoke again, his voice cracking under the pressure.

"I love you."

"And I think I've been in love with you for a some time now."

The words hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. He looked up at you, almost defeated, like the weight of his confession had crushed him, leaving him exposed in a way he had never allowed himself to be before. His eyes searched yours, as if waiting for the impact of those words to land, praying that somehow, you would understand—

“You love me?” you repeated his words back to him, your voice small, barely a whisper, like you didn’t quite understand, like the words didn’t even belong to your reality. Like they were coming from another planet.

He took a step forwards, his reaching out with such a delicacy, as if he was afraid to shatter whatever fragile space was left between you, his eyes swimming an apology that didn’t reach his lips. He stopped just short of reaching you, his fingers hovering in the space between, as if waiting for you to decide whether you’d let him in, or push him away for good.

“I-I-I don’t get it,” you stammered, your face scrunching as the words spilled out, “you pushed me away for weeks on end... because you’re in love with me?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret.

“Rem—”

“I thought if I let myself get too close, it would all fall apart. I couldn’t ask you for more than you already give, if I shut myself off, I could protect you from everything that’s so... complicated inside me—”, his words rushed out, almost panicked, as if he feared he’d finally done the damage he had been so terrified of—ruined everything with his own hesitation, his own need.

“Remus!” you exclaimed, and when he raised his gaze, he braced himself for the worst. But instead of the disgust or contempt he had anticipated, your face wasn’t shrouded in anger. It was relaxed, almost... understanding.

There was no judgment there, only a quiet recognition—like you could see the parts of him he’d been hiding from everyone, especially himself.

The air between you seemed to pulse with the weight of everything unsaid, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it didn’t feel suffocating.

“Do you really think I’d be standing here right now, if through all of this, I wasn’t thinking about you?”

He remained quiet, as you stepped closer, closing the gap until it was virtually nonexistent, taking his hands in yours, fingers interlocking as you watched his eyes darted around you face, searching for any whispers of uncertainty.

Instead, you reached up to his face, your thumbs gently caressing the tops of his cheekbones. The heat radiating off of him warmed you, there were no more walls between you, no more doubts or hesitations—

His gaze dropped to your lips, your nose brushing against his, and before either of you could say another word, you closed the gap, his lips crashing softly against yours.

It was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters of something both of you had wanted for so long but had been too afraid to admit. Your lips moved together, soft and eager, tension melting away as his arms snaked around you waist pulling you in impossibly closer—making up for lost time, as if every second apart had built up to this very moment.

When you disconnected, your breath hitched, the tips of his ears reddening, a soft flush creeping across his cheeks. Heat rose from your chest to your neck, hair stood on end, the sensation of his touch lingering, the warmth of his body an anchor in the midst of everything that had once felt lost.

Your arms wrapped around him, head resting on his chest, feeling the quickened pace of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. He held you tight, like he was afraid you’d slip away, as if you could turn into smoke at any given moment.

“I’d never leave you,” he mumbled into the crook of you neck.

A declaration you didn’t know you needed, but was grateful to hear, in the quiet space between you, it filled you with the sense of peace—certainty, you had longed for for weeks.

please feel free to leave requests, i really enjoyed writing this and want to improve so i would appreciate any advice xo

[heeracha]

Wilhelm Kotarbiński (1849–1921) - Dark Star, c. 1900

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#i got it from my mama

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jay - brought the heat back

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It’s like a full-blown addiction, but instead of drugs or booze, it’s this fictional guy who’s got her wrapped around his finger. She knows it’s fucked up—knows she’s out here daydreaming about someone who’s not even real—but who cares? This guy? He’s everything. He’s charming in the worst ways, flawed in every possible sense, but there’s just something about him that has her hooked. He doesn’t even know she exists, but she’s ready to fight anyone who says a word against him. Seriously, she’ll defend his honor like it’s a fucking life-or-death mission.

He’s a goddamn trainwreck, but he’s her trainwreck. She’ll put up with all his baggage, his emotional scars, his dark sides, because somehow, that brokenness makes him feel more real to her than any real guy could. He’s messed up, but she’ll fix him in her head every single time. Maybe it’s that thrill of knowing he’s dangerous and untouchable that makes him even more irresistible. He might break her heart in a hundred ways, but it’s the kind of heartbreak that makes her feel alive, even if it hurts like hell.

And it’s never gonna happen, right? She knows that. He’s not gonna waltz into her life and sweep her off her feet. But it doesn’t matter. Because she gets to have him on her terms—no messy reality, no awkward first dates, no risking her heart for real. He’s always there when she needs him, in that perfect little bubble of fantasy she’s built for herself. And maybe she’s a little crazy for it, but at least with him, she’s never disappointed. Every time she replays his scenes, reads the fanfics, imagines their future together—it's like a high she can never quite shake. She knows it's all just a mindfuck, but she’s never felt more alive.

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HOYH NAMISS KITA

NA MISS DIN KITA HOY

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this rockstar ★

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MBC250130♡

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That was the low battery notification

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Summary: remus takes care of sick!reader

Remus Lupin x reader

wc: 568

a/n: for my own pleasure after being sick for the past few days

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Remus had noticed it since the day before, the paleness of your face and the sudden constant sneezing. You had just shrugged it off as allergies, busy with work and errands you did not have enough time in the day to think much of it.

That night, you had spent most of it tossing and turning, your clogged nose not allowing you to breathe properly. Each breath felt more and more like a struggle, and the heat of a fever creeping up on your body.

So by the time morning rolled around it was no surprise that you were barely able to get up from bed, your body felt weak, your face flushed with a high fever. You felt completely miserable, and every attempt to stand up only left you feeling dizzy.

Remus had gotten up quietly to not disturb you. He moved swiftly through the kitchen, putting together a soothing herbal tea that he had made for himself whenever he was ill. He poured the tea into your favorite mug and carefully walked back to the bedroom. He opened the door as quietly as he could, not sure if you had fallen back asleep.

The room was quite dark, the curtains were shut letting minimal light in so that it didn’t aggravate your aching head. He could hear your breathing, shallow and unsteady.

“Hey, love,” Remus' voice was gentle and quiet as he walked through the room. Noticing how quick you’d sat up on the bed, too quick he could see the pain that it had caused you, “Easy there.”

He walked over to your side of the bed, placing the tea on the nightstand before placing a hand on your forehead to check your temperature, “You’re burning up, love.”

“I’m fine, it's just a cold,” you say, although even you don't sound too convinced, “Just need to rest.”

“You're not fine. Here drink this, it'll help with the fever,” he hands you the tea, which you gladly take.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, not quite sure if you’re apologizing for your sickness or that now he is stuck taking care of you and tending to you all day.

“For what?” he smiled softly, pushing a strand of hair away from your hair as you drank your tea, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I love taking care of you.”

“Just try and rest,” he pulled the blankets around your shoulder, making sure you kept warm. He placed a comforting kiss on your forehead, and then one on the corner of your lips

“Remus- you’re going to get sick too if you do that,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet his.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head and reaching to kiss your temple, “I’ll be fine. I can handle a bit of sickness from my favorite girl, yeah?”

You smile at his words, placing the mug back on the nightstand, “I love you,” you murmur, your voice soft with drowsiness.

“I love you more, love” he smiles, helping you settle back into the pillows, “Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Just stay with me.”

With that, Remus climbs back into bed next to you. He pulls the duvet over you both, you nestling into him. You close your eyes, the warming presence next you helping you relax your muscles and slowly lulling you back to sleep.

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Yiss

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Nail polish & cologne

Remus Lupin x reader

1.7k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining

You take your spot next to Lily as Professor Slughorn writes on the blackboard at the front of the room. You’re reaching for your textbook when you hear giggles erupt from various spots in the room. The giggles are accompanied by various groans as well. It’s enough to make Slughorn hush the room. When you look at what he’s written, you understand the reactions. Amortentia. The powerful love potion that Slughorn had talked about briefly at the beginning of the term.

“Thought we already learned ‘bout this!” James groans from his station behind you.

Lily snorts a laugh before whispering to you, “Like that synopsis would be N.E.W.T. level.”

You smile knowingly. Slughorn had practically just asked someone to identify the potion and describe what it did; Snape had done so but didn’t tell anyone what he smelled. You recalled seeing his eyes flick to Lily and then back to his lap. Despite no longer talking, it was evident that he was still infatuated with the ginger. 

“As Mr. Potter so kindly pointed out, we did cover Amortentia earlier this term, although briefly. Mr. Potter, can you do the honors of reminding the class the defining characteristics of the potion?” Professor Slughorn says, his voice commanding the attention of the room. 

James stutters flustered for a moment before Sirius slides the textbook in front of his friend, open to the chapter on love potions. 

“It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them,” he reads from the book.

“And thank you, Mr. Black, for the assist,” Slughorn adds, clapping his hands together. “Now, we will be brewing Amortentia today, and I advise you all to be model students. I can only emphasize so much that any student caught with Amortentia outside of this classroom will be severely punished.” He casts a warning glance around the room. “And on a similar note, I also implore you to take note of what it smells like to you. It may just save you or a companion from consuming it unintentionally.” 

“Date rape,” you mutter under your breath, causing Lily to chuckle lightly.

Slughorn continues his lecture on the effects of the potion before discussing how to brew the potion. When he dismisses the class to gather their supplies, the boys behind you start to discuss what they expect to smell.

“Ain’t no way Prongs doesn’t smell broom polish,” Sirius says. “We’ve been victim of those fumes far too often…”

Remus laughs. “And will you smell your girl of the week or vodka?”

“You think so low of me, Moony?” Sirius scoffs.

“Please, don’t take offense, Pads. Moony is going to smell the library and morning dew. Somethin’ sappy like that,” James teases.

You can’t help but smile to yourself as you and Lily prepare the ingredients. 

“What do you think you’ll smell?” you ask her, lighting the fire under your cauldron. 

“Parchment and fresh cookies, probably. Very home-y scents, you know?”

You nod and consider what you’ll smell. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I smelled nail polish or petrol.”

Lily adds the first ingredients with a growing smile on her face. “Ah, yes, the finest smells on the planet.” 

You and Lily fill the rest of the lesson with giggles, properly brewing the potion. Every once in a while, you look behind you to see how the boys are doing. Like usual, Remus appears to be carrying the group with occasional help from James and Sirius. 

“And… I think we’re done?” Lily says, leaning over so slightly over the cauldron. 

She waves her hand to waft the fumes toward her face. She contemplates what she smells before turning a brilliant shade of red. 

“So? What’d you smell?” you ask eagerly. 

It’s impossible to not notice how the boys went immediately silent at your question. Lily shakes her head and frowns at the potion.

“We must’ve done something wrong… That can’t be right,” she mutters, reaching for her book to double check all of the instructions and ingredient measurements. 

You twist your lips in curiosity. You lean toward the cauldron and mimic Lily’s earlier motion.

Nail polish… milk chocolate… parchment… Remus’ cologne…

Wait, what? You feel your face heat up and you reach for your own book.

“Yeah, what did we do wrong?” you mumble, scanning the directions.

Lily’s silence only reinforces your conclusion. You brewed the potion perfectly. So what you smell is… nope. That can’t be right. 

You look at Lily, hoping that she had an answer she wasn’t vocalizing. Her perplexed expression leaves you little hope. 

Slughorn must have heard your dual concerns about your potion because he heads your way. 

“Finished, ladies?” he asks.

“Uh, we think so?” you answer.

He inspects your cauldron and the two of you wait for his consensus. You are so focused on Slughorn that you don’t notice how the boys are listening in. You feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach as Slughorn beams at you.

“It’s perfect. You two should be very proud. Ten points to Gryffindor,” Slughorn says before walking away to check on some Slytherins nearby.

You turn to Lily who is mirroring your confused expression.

“But… I…” you says, unable to finish any of your thoughts.

“Yeah… Same,” she says.

At least you aren’t alone in your reaction to what you smell. 

Behind you, the boys aren’t far behind with their own potion. After gathering a sample to turn in and cleaning up your cauldron, you and Lily turn around to watch them finish up. It’s obvious when it’s complete. Remus’ face turns a deep shade of red, making the scars on his face seem to glow. He takes a step back and gestures to the cauldron for James and Sirius to smell. 

The whole time you’re trying to not stare at Remus. Yes, you have a crush on him. You had for a while. You love his quiet rebellions and his brilliance that shines in the Marauders’ pranks. You love how, despite being a prefect, he gives no effort to rein in his friends’ antics. You love how he can step away from their wiles to study when it’s needed and how he always had a book with him. And it didn’t hurt that you thought he was gorgeous. His sandy hair, soft brown eyes, scars that he seemed to hide behind at times. 

You had felt like this for a while so you don’t know why it has taken you by such surprise that you smell him in the Amortentia. Maybe it’s the quiet voice in your head that reminds you that it’s a single-sided crush, an unrequited love. Of all the times you stared at him, you never caught him staring back and you were never caught because you can’t get caught if he never looks your way. 

“Ha! I’m not even surprised!” James exclaims, giving Lily a cheeky smile. 

“Broom polish like Black predicted?” Lily asks, returning his smile with a teasing one. 

“And so much more.”

Lily attempts an air of indifference, despite having smelled broom polish herself, and turns to Sirius. “What about you, Black? Vodka or perfume?” 

“I think… Wait, let me smell that again.” Sirius pauses as he waves the spirals ascending from the cauldron toward his face again. “Yes. Effie’s cooking. And firewhiskey. And smoke.”

James looks away from Lily with shock. “Effie’s cooking?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Sirius says with a shrug. “Whaddabout it?” 

“You smell my mum’s cooking? In the love potion?” 

“Yes. What’s confusing ‘bout that?”

“Just a bit… bizarre?” 

“You’re bizarre,” Sirius retorts casually. “Moons? Care to share what you smelt? Preferably something with food so Prongs doesn’t think I’m so off?” 

Remus blinks slowly, stepping forward from where he was leaning against the unused desk behind them. He took another sniff of the potion, closing his eyes and basking in it. 

“You might be off, Pads. That’s a liquid library, right there.” 

Sirius narrows his eyes at Remus. “Right, sure. That’s all you smell?” 

Remus looks away from Sirius and back at the cauldron. He nervously cracks his knuckles. Then he reaches for a vial.

“We should get our sample and clean up,” he says shortly.

“Ooo! Moony’s hiding something. What did you smell?” James asks. 

If you weren’t staring at Remus, you would’ve missed how his eyes flickered toward you. When he sees you already looking at him, he turns impossibly more red. Were you imagining it? 

Hope fills your veins. You’re sure you’re assuming too much, but what if he smells you in the potion, just like how you smell him? Why else would he have blushed so furiously when he looked at you? It would explain why he doesn’t want to tell the boys what he smells, because he knows you’re standing right there, a part of the conversation despite not having said anything. 

“Here,” Remus says as he hands the vial to James. “Go give that to Slughorn so we can pass this class.” 

“Alright, boss.” 

Just after James turns in their potion, Slughorn dismisses all of those who had finished their potion. You and Lily leave rather quickly, having already been fully cleaned up. James isn’t far behind. He’s convinced that he and Lily shared a moment in that class, which meant he might have a chance if he asks her out again soon. 

Alone with Remus now, Sirius asks again, “What did you smell, Remus?”

“I told you, a-”

“Library. So that’s what? Old books? Inkwells? Y/N studying next to you?” 

Remus goes quiet. How did Sirius know?

“Am I obvious?” Remus whispers, not looking at his best friend.

“Nah,” Sirius assures him. “Between James and Lily making googoo eyes at each other? You’re good. Although, I think it’s worth a shot. She couldn’t take her eyes off you.”

Sirius walks away, leaving Remus to finish gathering his things on his own. Had you been staring at him longer than he thought? Since when did you, in all of your perfectness, stare at him, a monster in a student's uniform? But if Sirius, Mr. Self-Proclaimed-Ladies'-Man, thought it was worth a shot, maybe it was. Maybe he’d have to find you later and work up the courage to ask you out. 

[heeracha]

i have this,,, silly ass crush on my supervisor and my silly ass brain is thinking hmmm yes a remus lupin fic yes

[heeracha]

im back with my daily scream,, someone fucking write me (NO DONT TELL ME TO DO IT IM TOO LAZY) a teenage dirtbag remus,, i fucking need that

[heeracha]

Ease My Worried Mind - R.L.

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Reminiscing about photos on Remus' nightstand. Also some serious conversations and thoughts about Remus' condition. (Remus is in loooveeee; fluffy; kissing)

Words: 1.1k

Notes: Guys this is so good. Like I'm actually so proud of this one. Pleaseeeee comment and let me know what you thought of it, comments are super appreciated!!! (I thrive on validation) Please enjoy! (Also the title is from the song 'Layla' !!)

___

It took loads of convincing to be where you are now. Remus' bed was quite comfortable. The scent of him in the sheets comforted you. Remus was in the bathroom about to take a shower.

Lyall, Remus' father, didn't like company over so close to the full moon. Remus' excessive chatting about you since first year made him believe that you were a trustworthy enough person to allow in his house.

Even though you were in your later years at Hogwarts, none of the other boys had been to Remus' home. Except James when he picked Remus up to take him to his house. Even then, Lyall and Hope didn't allow James to come inside.

It wasn't them being rude, you could tell that they were just protective over Remus. His friend group at Hogwarts was the first one he was ever allowed to have.

Lyall and Hope had been very kind to you since you had arrived, but you could tell they were nervous about the full moon being so close. They were almost too nice, but it was an awkward nice.

As your thoughts roamed about Remus and his family, you looked around at Remus' room. The walls were plastered with posters of various rock stars and movies. Upon his nightstand there was a framed picture of him with James, Sirius, and Peter. Remus was sandwiched in between Sirius and James. Sirius' arm was around Peter's shoulders, and James' hand was squishing Remus' face. The picture moved and you could see Sirius's head fall back in laughter. You reflected on the moment fondly, you had taken this picture.

Your eyes kept roaming, and lying on his nightstand was another picture. This picture was encased in a charm meant for a necklace. You picked up the charm and smiled fondly. This picture was of Remus and you. You could remember this moment exactly.

_

"Could I have a refill please." Peter said quietly as the waitress walked by ignoring him.

The group giggled at Peter's embarrassment. Although you and Remus paid no mind to this, you two were having your own conversation in the corner of the half booth table your friends had picked.

"It's alright mate, i'll go get one for you." Sirius stood up and walked to the bar, Peter following quietly behind.

The Three Broomsticks was a bit too warm for late spring, but the frost in your butterbeer made up for it. Remus' arm around your back and hand on the side of your thigh probably didn't help either, but this heat you didn't mind as much.

At this moment, Remus was whispering something silly in your ear, and you giggled. Then all of a sudden there was a bright flash in your face.

"Godric, you two. Off in your own world the whole time we've been here. Don't know why we go to Hogsmeade anymore!" James said as he snatched the camera from Lily.

"Didn't they look so cute though! That's why I took the picture," she said towards James. "You guys are going to be grateful for that picture, you look so good y/n!" Lily finished as she tried to take the camera back from James. James used this as an opportunity to stand up and put the camera in the air, much to tall for Lily to reach.

___

The picture was good. Your makeup and hair looked perfect, and Remus looked absolutely smitten as he whispered in your ear. The picture moved and cutoff mid giggle, going back to the moment when Remus leaned in.

"I'm out." Remus walked in, hair wet and messy, the only thing on was his boxers.

You put the picture back in its spot on his nightstand. When you took in his appearance and lack of clothes you blushed.

Remus dried his hair messily with his towel. He then reached in his dresser and unfortunately pulled out an old t-shirt. Putting the t-shirt on, he walked over to his bed, where you were still laying. He crawled into bed, while crushing you in the process. You laughed as he put almost all of his body weight on you. Eventually, he rolled over, and you two were lying side by side.

You looked over at him.

"Remus do your parents know that I know?" You asked him intently.

Remus looked back at you, not expecting such a serious question. You knew he didn't like talking about it, so every time you did, it shocked him.

"Yes. They do." Remus looked at you gently. "That's probably why they're acting so weird. Usually when people find out that I'm a werewolf, they don't normally want to be in our home," Remus said with a tight lipped smile, "Especially laying in the werewolf's bed." You rolled your eyes and giggled. It made sense, it did. The stigma around werewolves was still very outdated. The wizarding world wasn't very open minded.

Your hand went to hold Remus' cheek. Your thumb traced the scars on his face. Your gaze held his admirably.

Remus' thoughts raced throughout this moment. One thought was the loudest though: He was so lucky to have you in his life.

Remus was able to be vulnerable with you, which he wasn't allowed with everyone else. He was also able to tell you every thought on his mind. Most of all, he was able to trust you with the biggest secret anyone could ever hold.

Remus leaned in and kissed you gently on the lips.

"I love you," Remus said as he moved his hand on top of yours, still upon his cheek.

"I love you so much more Moony," your voice barley above a whisper, face leaning in once more for a kiss.

Remus moved his lips against yours vigorously. So much passion being shared between the two of you. Unfortunately, the only thought that passed through your mind was how you wished Remus hadn't put that t-shirt on.

Eventually you pulled away, breathless, you stared into Remus' face. Scar adorned, yet gorgeous. If Remus didn't have those scars he wouldn't look right, you thought. Those scars made him who he was, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

You both laid on your back for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly, Remus popped into your line of vision above you.

"Let's go for a walk," He said, while getting up from the bed. You immediately followed him, and put on your shoes.

If this was how being at Remus' house was, you'd never want to leave.